by J. M. Davies
He chuckled like a naughty schoolboy, a well satisfied one, and he was certain that Ella must be suffering after their incessant lovemaking. He shifted onto his side and rested his head on his bent arm as he drew lazy circles around her pink areola, and she sighed in her sleep. Marcus had told her it was just sex, and she had agreed, but as he dipped his head to kiss and suckle her nipple, soaking in her musky scent, his dick jerked to life with a fury and he knew that he was lost. She belonged to him and he was never going to be able to let her go. Never. It was eleven thirty in the morning, and they should be heading out. Staying in the hotel for the past almost twenty-four hours was a huge indulgence but it had been necessary. Ella should now be sated and feeling better and stronger; at least, she would after he claimed her once more and then a hot bath was in order.
Ella woke with Marcus’s hand stroking a rising flame between her thighs and she responded by bucking her clit closer to his hand and moaning for release. Every muscle in her legs and her core throbbed and ached, but the need for him to fill her outweighed the pain and within seconds, his cock impaled her.
“God, Ella, I’m sorry, but I just can’t stop myself.” He thrust in and slowly receded out, driving Ella to distraction as she dug her nails into his bare back and rode the same wave of delight that he was on. She wanted him filling her and driving her crazy with an intoxicating pleasure. Moments later, after they rode the crest of ecstasy together, she fell back into the mattress, and Marcus collapsed next to her body for a second before he rolled to one side. He leaned over and kissed her belly.
“I’m so sorry, Ella. Stay there, while I run a bath for you. I’ll be just a minute.”
The pain burned and she ached everywhere, but she couldn’t be happier. She had never felt this complete before in all her lives. Any minute, she expected to wake up from this wonderful and erotic dream. Instead, a naked Marcus reappeared and lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her into the steaming bathroom, where he had filled the tub with hot water. The smell of roses permeated the air. Sighing contently, she let him slowly lower her into the water and she leaned back against the coolness of the tub. He lathered a cloth with soap and rubbed it all over her body. Her eyes closed, she let him tend to her, unable to argue or resist.
“That’s it, baby, relax and just feel the sensations. I promise I won’t touch you until you’re no longer sore.” He kissed her lips and lathered the soap over her breasts and arms. Ella let the hot water soothe her aching muscles and the stinging from their lovemaking. Clenching her legs together, she wandered over the past several hours and smiled. As the water lapped against her silky skin and she sank into a dreamy abyss, a memory rose, vivid and sharp.
It was the night of the full moon and for weeks, an unsettled sensation of not being quite right was getting stronger inside Lady Elizabeth Dempsey. Memories of other people and lives plagued her dreams, which sent her screaming at shadows. Her husband, Sir Charles Dempsey, was concerned but she was not sure whether it was because he thought her simply mad. Barnaby Jones, a stableman, had only the other day caught her as she fell and after noticing her strange mark on her wrist, insisted she need to meet with him in the darkest part of the woods that stretched out beyond the well-tended gardens and extensive grounds, just where the forest began, and he would explain why her dreams were filled of a witch hanging.
Fear consumed her but her need for answers overrode that. She stole out into the chill of the night, seeking him out, wrapped in a plain long gown without her corset, simply donning her chemise under her dress along with her woven stockings and shoes. Heaven help her if she be found. Indeed, her personal maid had undressed her, ready for bed, and she couldn’t explain nor ask for help. Anyway, it made breathing easier and she could run if need be. Her long black velvet cape shrouded her.
She raced through the grounds, in her front lacing half-boots, which were made of a tough cotton material, trudging through the squelchy mud and grass until the dark woods rose to greet her. The pale moon looked enormous as it gazed upon her and her blood stirred at its nearness. The bushes rustled and the trees swayed; a night owl cooed and out of the black night appeared Barnaby, his face grave and his dark eyes intense. There was a wildness about him and more so than ever tonight as he stood dressed in his black leather breeches, tall black boots, and smoldering black shirt open to reveal a thatch of dark, sooty hair.
He wore his hair longer than other men of the time and he secured it back by a leather band, the length longer than his shoulders, and stubble shadowed his jawline. Yet, fear was not what entered her mind when she stared at him. Her heart sped at an alarming rate that made her breathless. Her husband, Sir Charles, was older than her by at least four and twenty. He was a serious and quiet man who promised to look after her and not cause her any harm. Their marriage was an arrangement behind closed doors and although Elizabeth was not unhappy because there were far worse fates, it was a marriage on paper alone.
There was no love, no passion or desire. They had been married for over two months and he did not seek to enter her chamber and was frequently engaged elsewhere. She suspected that her husband was secretly meeting with another woman, his lover. Rumors were rife through the house that he visited a certain lady friend and Elizabeth was lonely. If she were caught alone with such a man as Barnaby, it would cause a scandal, but when he caught her the other day, the way his strong arms held her close against his chest and feeling his strength beat against her breasts, she wasn’t sure she could stay away.
He was mesmerizing and addictive. Standing here now, she couldn’t even meet his gaze but she had to discover the cause of her nightmares for her own sanity. However, as she sucked in a breath at the sight of him, the effect his presence stirred within her. She was not certain he even liked her, as his eyes grew darker, glaring at her. His mouth held tightly closed as he stared down at her; his eyebrows dipped sharply. He looked as if she was merely an annoyance, an irritation and yet he had summoned her here.
“Milady, you’re late,” he said sharply, eyeing the fields behind her.
“Sir, I came as soon as I could but I needed my maid to believe I was sleeping. I fear she watches me under orders of my husband.” She fiddled with her hands. Was this just a waste of time? Her boots, despite the fact they were made for outdoors, were wet and her feet soaking.
“Well, we best make haste. It’s close to the witching hour and there are too many risks as there is.”
Elizabeth stood her ground as he made to enter the still and shadow-filled forest; her heart beat wildly against her chest. What if he meant to kill her or ravage her and leave her for dead? An uncertain doubt rose as to the reason she was truly here with him. What could he possibly know or want with her?
Barnaby stepped one foot into the dense woodland, twigs snapping and bushes rustling, but he hadn’t taken two steps before he realized he was alone. Swiftly turning around, he gazed at the delicate and pale face that captivated him from a distance. Lady Elizabeth Dempsey stood, shaking with the coolness of the night or a fear that she was in danger, and yet her face shone bright, her sapphire eyes twinkled and her head tilted up. Unconsciously, his heart squeezed and the need to protect her stirred deep within, just as it had the day she had fainted before him.
That day he discovered she was from the clan of Ariana, the moon goddess. For centuries, his people, Romany travelers, had helped throughout old Europe people just like Lady Elizabeth and hid them from those who would do them harm, taking them in when no one else would and over time learned about their magic and kept the secret, working with the moon goddess herself. They traveled all over the world, forming networks and creating an alliance; in return, their children were blessed with knowledge of the future and money. His people were camped out in their many caravans far in the woods and had been drawn to this location six months ago and given a job helping on the land. Now, as he faced Lady Elizabeth, he knew why and yet he wished he could turn around and walk away.
&
nbsp; Her natural beauty stole his breath and captured his heart. Her kindness and innocence was a well-known fact throughout the household, and gossip about her virginity and loveless marriage grew daily amid fears that the lord and master of Tregowen House, Sir Charles Dempsey, for all his seemingly quiet and harmless manner, was plotting her demise. He raised his head to stare at the stars and clenched his fists. Why did men of such power crush the innocent? With her dowry secured, another lady was rumored to be his next wife. The gossip below in the kitchen and stables was endless. Yet, Lady Elizabeth would never accept him and she was way out of his reach but he wished to help. Barnaby scowled upon seeing Lady Elizabeth’s mark. Any hesitation over intervening evaporated and an overwhelming desire to carry her away from her devious husband and their loveless sham of a marriage grew daily. All he needed was to convince her. He stretched his hand out flat before her and motioned for her to join him.
“Lady Elizabeth, you can trust that I mean you no harm, but you must come with me now. There are many creatures of the night of which you are unaware of and discovering something as rare and precious as you would be far too tempting for them to resist.”
A gasp escaped her mouth and she flicked her pink tongue outwards, sweeping it across her full lips. Desire flooded his loins, rendering his cock rigid and making his breeches uncomfortably tight, and he groaned. The tips of her fingers touched his hand; a bolt of fire surged straight into his heart and jerked him forward.
“Where are we headed?” Her softly spoken words brought him back to the present and a vision of another time and place disappeared. If he could carry her away right now, he would, but she needed to learn about who she was and what she was capable of, and that would take time. She needed to meet with her clan and Ariana. He nodded toward the mysterious woods.
“A place not far from here where your kind gathers, but we must be quick.”
Elizabeth shivered but stepped toward him.
“Ella, Ella—you have to get out of the water. It’s stone cold.” A rough hand shook her shoulder, and she shivered. Darting forward, the cold water sluiced down over her pert breasts. She gasped as if she had woken from a deep slumber. Her previous lives often revisited her in dreams but never where she felt a connection with another person. In this memory, she knew exactly what Barnaby was thinking, and the resemblance to someone now was striking. Shocked she couldn’t speak and blinked as the realization sunk in.
“Ella, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Marcus’s face loomed in close toward hers as he crouched next to the tub and brushed her wet hair away from her face.
She stared at him with her mouth wide open. Okay, his hair was shorter, clothes different but it was him. He was Barnaby, which was impossible because he wasn’t a soul-shifter. Was he?
“Come on, you must get out. You are freezing.” Marcus held up a warm fluffy towel in front of the bath and she stood up, letting the water fall down over her body as he wrapped it firmly around her. Ella tucked the towel between her breasts and opened her mouth to speak as she lifted her leg to navigate her way out of the wrought-iron clawed tub. She followed back into the bedroom. How could Marcus have existed then and now if he was not a soul-shifter? And surely she would know her own kind because they had a certain distinct scent—with him, there was nothing. Was that because he was her mate? Did he know he was a soul-shifter? Until recently, he was completely opposed to the idea that his mother was gifted with foresight. Added to the fact that he also had dreams of her indicated that he probably had inherited his mother’s gift, but could he also be from her clan? She wanted to say something but without sounding weirder than normal and after everything they had shared, would this be too much for Marcus to hear? Barnaby did not resemble Marcus identically but as she remembered his eyes and the way their hands had touched, something reached inside her soul and told her they were one and the same.
If Barnaby was Marcus, then how many times had their lives been intertwined or overlapped, only for fate to intervene and send them in different directions until now?
“Ella, you need to get a move on. We have a rental car being delivered soon. Tregowen House has a Halloween event going on today, so there will be lots of people, which will be good as two more won’t stand out too much.” He watched her as she rubbed the fluffy towel along her wet skin.
As their gazes locked with each other, she realized the inner struggle he was fighting because his face was rigid with control. She might desire him incessantly, but it seemed he, too, felt that burning need. The power she held over him filled her with such elation and confidence that she let the towel drop to the ground so his gaze could feast upon her.
There was a groan and within seconds, he gathered her into his arms and impaled her up against the bedroom wall. Her skin was still moist from the recent bath but tingles exploded throughout her belly as he kissed her pert and ready nipples. A cry escaped and she realized the noise came from her own mouth as Marcus sucked and pulled at her breast. His rough, early-morning stubble grazed against her skin but she moved her body against him, needing his lips to carry on creating the ecstasy that was building. She raked her hands through his hair to pull him closer, but he pushed against her. His hoarse voice echoed in her ear. “Lift your legs up and wrap them around me. I’ll hold you.” Marcus placed his hands along her hips and lifted her as she complied with his request. The hard arousal of his cock was evident in his jeans as he pushed against her throbbing clit and she moaned, needing him as much as he needed her.
She grabbed hold of his leather buckle and undid the belt, pushing his trousers down to the ground. Underneath, Marcus was naked and his eager and ready erection sprung upward, ready to sink inside Ella’s warmth. He paused from kissing her neck and lay delicate kisses along her collarbone as his sex nudged against her silky entrance.
“I cannot help it any longer—forgive me.” He pushed his way into her wet entrance, and she let her head fall back against the wall; her fingers dug into his shoulders as he pumped and pumped inside her.
She lifted her hips to match his rhythm and skin smacked against skin. Marcus claimed her mouth, possessing every inch with his tongue to mark her as his. Ella was certain she even heard him mutter the word mine as he pushed in as far as he could. Wave upon wave of ecstatic sensation built and then erupted inside her, and finally she screamed his name in release before she rested her head on his shoulder.
Feeling her muscles clamp so tightly around him as she came and hearing her call out his name sent him over the edge into his own euphoric release, and he spilled his hot seed inside her before he leaned his arm against the wall for support. Marcus was still partly dressed with his shirt on—minus a few buttons—but he didn’t care. He gave Ella a gentle kiss just below her earlobe and eased her to the ground, feeling her silky skin with his hands as she slid down his body. God, she was beautiful and he just couldn’t get enough. After telling her in the bath that he would leave her alone, he had succumbed as soon as he saw her stark naked, standing brazen like the goddess Aphrodite. This needed to stop; he couldn’t think straight around her and that would put them both in danger. He needed things to get back to the way they were when he felt in control and in charge, not like some lovesick teenager who was beholden to his dick.
Sighing, he let go of her and moved back, not looking her directly in the face. “Ella, go and get dressed. I need to have a quick shower and then we’re leaving.” Marcus walked straight into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
There was no doubt in Ella’s mind that something just changed and the temperature turned arctic. He was in a mood but why?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ella squirmed in the leather seat of the sleek silver Range Rover Sport HSE TDV6 that Marcus rented for the trip out to Tregowen House. There was no need for any words or directions as the state-of-the-art SUV already had the route plotted on the GPS, and so there was an awkward silence. Marcus had barely spoken to her after the shower and Ell
a did not want to speak now because she knew that something was about to erupt between them that would spoil the blissful contentment that she had experienced over the past twenty-four hours. So, rather than confront him over his blatant indifference and mood, she thought about Tregowen House, the mansion built in the seventeenth century, a place of grandeur and manicured gardens and even a maze that she once was lost in. It had once been home.
Back when she lived there, it was 1816 and she had married a titled man, Sir Charles Dempsey, in a simple ceremony. She was Lady Elizabeth Dempsey, eighteen years old and an orphan until her marriage. Sir Charles was a friend of her father’s and she had been betrothed to him for several years. Her mother died in childbirth and her father died fighting the war in America. Life on the Welsh country estate was quiet but good and she was safe, until the truth emerged about her alliance with the clan of Ariana and her fondness for Barnaby.
The marriage, from beginning to end, was an elaborate hoax that left orphaned heiress Elizabeth Dempsey a prisoner at the mercy of the Elusti. A complex operation was in play from the beginning to get rid of her quietly; Sir Charles had contacted the Elusti, a mercenary group that for centuries traveled through Europe under the proviso that they were working for the church. They were hell-bent on righting the error of human weakness and evil ways and used the “Bloody Code” as a way to bring criminals to justice if they refused enlightenment. They doled out severe punishment in secret and underground dwellings, where spectators could gather and watch as the victim was tortured. The reluctant converts who refused to admit guilt achieved eternal justice by death. Sir Charles Dempsey conspired with a bunch of local scoundrels to abduct her and Barnaby, only for them to be discovered and confirming that they were lovers. He had conducted this elaborate plot to rid himself of her and thus allowing him to be free to marry his real love, a lady of little wealth, and keep all the inheritance. Elizabeth would be left with men who were merciless and bloodthirsty.