Regency Rogues Omnibus

by Shirl Anders

  Saxon led her forward, and up another set of steps. He seemed decisive, yet she remembered the myriad of corridors. It had seemed that none of them led to the ground floor from the dungeons below, but somehow bypassed that access and instead went higher into the castle. She was impressed with Saxon as he stopped at each corridor, looking around the corner first before continuing forward quickly and quietly.

  Suddenly, Saxon grasped her arm and pulled her into the arch of a closed doorway. She did not see or hear anything, but Saxon looked down the hallway intently. Then, she heard the movements and saw the shadows wavering on the ceiling of someone, perhaps coming in their direction.

  Saxon pushed the latch on the door, and then he entered the room silently with Joelle beside him. His gaze was everywhere at once, searching out the room. “Empty.”

  Joelle stepped forward beside him. “But it is a bedchamber setup for someone to return to. Maybe there are clothes?” She turned her head quickly to him, “Do we have time?”

  Saxon moved to the door adjoining the bedchamber as he spoke. He knew by the layout it must lead to the next room and it was possible the rooms connected this way all the way down the corridor. “If you see something, quickly grab it. But...” Joelle moved forward toward the armoire as she listened to him. “I want to topple the candles in these rooms as we go. Hopefully through a bit of time delay they will start some fires.”

  “Our diversion?”

  “Exactly.”

  Crossing the room, Saxon took a candle from the wall sconce beside the bed and he tossed the candle onto the bedding. Joelle had a bundle of clothing in one arm as she picked up another candle off a side table. She lobbed it toward the curtains.

  “Next room, Joelle.” Saxon stopped at the connecting door for a moment. “Slowly, dear heart, slowly.”

  They continued through four rooms this way and Saxon knew there were only two rooms left until the end of the corridor. Nevertheless, in the second to last room when he stopped and he took a breath, then he peeked into the room, something instantly cautioned him. It was not someone else’s presence, but a chilling smell.

  “Oh spirits, that is awful.” Joelle evidenced her distaste by nuzzling her nose against his upper arm as she leaned into him looking into the darkened room.

  “Are there any candles left there, Joelle? Can you get one?”

  Joelle left, then returning quickly with one. Saxon thought for one brief moment it would be wiser to just leave out the door to the room they were in. Nevertheless, some instinct made him enter the darkened room with the sickly sweet odor. He nearly wished for a cloth to cover his nose as he stepped in the room holding the candle up high. He could see that the room was different from the others in the fact there was no connecting door to the next room. Instead there was an open archway. The candlelight did not delve as far as that room, however the room they were in was dimly lit and appeared to be like a dining room with a long table and numerous chairs.

  Saxon bypassed the table, moving toward the other room, where the odor was becoming stronger. Then, just before he reached the archway, he saw something glint, catching the candle’s light in the other room. Extreme caution attacked him.

  “Joelle, stay here.”

  But something told him that he had to see. He just assumed Joelle obeyed him as he stepped forward, finally succumbing to the need to raise his handless wrist to his nose, as he did so. Saxon lifted the candle and nearly dropped it in the same motion.

  “Oh my, Lord.”

  Saxon evoked God’s name with horror running violently through his brain. Joelle cried out with sharp aversion behind him, but he could not take his gaze from the abomination in front of him. It was an altar of decaying human parts, set up in a circular frame and raised above the floor. The different body parts were assembled into the shape of a human body, but all of them were not quite reaching the other that they should attach too.

  “Oh, my God, my God, Saxon. The last limb. That’s why Hellion said . . . he said.” Joelle fell silent with a small cry.

  The face of the pieced together monstrosity was just dried skin. Hellion had skinned a man to get it, Saxon thought, feeling nearly as if he were not really in his own body. “Burn it!” he snapped with fury. “Burn it to the ground!”

  Joelle went for more candles as he rushed forward to find as many means as he could to start flames about the room. At one point he noticed his hook placed in front of the corpse-limb altar as though it was an offering and he grabbed it, while setting flame to the front of the sacrilegious abomination.

  “Saxon, Saxon.” Joelle tugged his arm, coughing. “We must go, Saxon!”

  “Rot in hell!” Saxon blurted as he threw the candle down onto the floor and he turned to follow Joelle. He never thought that he would view either Joelle or himself as lucky. But now he did!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Saxon successfully brought them to the rear of the castle without being seen. Joelle stood to the side at his gestured direction, as he looked both ways. His handsome face was a study of concentration in the waning moonlight.

  “The cutlery, kitchen, and service entrance should logically be this way. Some servant’s horse, perhaps. If not, we will round the castle to the stables.”

  Joelle thought it was logical and well thought out, better than her urge to simply run screaming into the burgeoning dawn. She used a Saxon term. An Englishman’s, idiosyncrasy. “Right.”

  Luck was with them, because the grass they walked on made it easier for their bare feet. A short time later they came to exactly what Joelle knew Saxon hoped to find. A stand of horses tied behind the castle. The dirt and gravel road getting to the horses was a hasty bit of tiptoeing and wincing, until they arrived and Joelle saw only one horse was saddled.

  “Luck is with us, although I cannot imagine this will be pleasant dressed as we are and being as bruised as you must...”

  Saxon’s discourse slipped to a halt as Joelle watched him reach for the bay-colored horse’s reins.

  “I will manage. It will be an adventure. I have never ridden anything but a sidesaddle.”

  Saxon’s dark eyes gleamed at her. “Front or back, Madame Firefly?”

  Joelle felt her cheeks heat unexpectedly at the endearment he used that she secretly cherished. “You pick. I have no clue which will be better for a hasty escape.”

  Saxon turned partially away from her with his bare shoulders moving for a moment and when he turned back she saw a small hook strapped to his left wrist.

  “Now, I can help you up,” he said, with a left-sided quirk to his lips, while she remembered kissing the flesh of his left wrist so passionately.

  A moment later, while gingerly straddling and using as little space as she could manage on the front of the saddle, Joelle was impressed with Saxon’s dexterity using his hook, as he mounted behind her.

  “Sit on the cloak too, Saxon.”

  Joelle knew it was little enough barrier for a gallop. A second later her breath caught in her lungs as the first forward galloping step of the horse came. She heard Saxon grunt the same reaction behind her as he leaned up in the stirrups and she knew which part of his anatomy he was trying to protect. The initial pain grew worse, but not as shocking between her thighs as she strove to ignore it. When they rounded the east side of the castle, Saxon kept the bay-horse to the tree line, however after a good distance, Joelle was able to look back and see a partial view of the front of the castle.

  They could see the fires they had set, against the dusky pre-dawn sky. And also, a clamorous hive of activity outside, spreading across the front lawn.

  “Odds are they will not realize we are gone or be able to follow us for a while,” Saxon said with his mouth pressed to her ear as the horse galloped steadily beneath him. “I have a hunch there is a river back here and if there is, we can follow it.”

  “Yes, they will think we took the road,” Joelle called, but her words were lost in the wind.

  “Say again,” Saxon said agai
nst her ear.

  Joelle turned her head back and he turned his ear to her as she repeated herself, and then she felt him nodding. She wished she could stay like that, with her cheek pressed to the side of his jaw. But the gallop was too ungainly and she had to keep her face forward and her inner thighs tensed in a manner she was unaccustomed to, to stay astride the horse.

  They were both weak, without sleep and food for several days, and both their bodies were battered in the wrong places for a swift escape on a horse. It was a study in willpower that was utterly draining. Therefore sometime after, when Joelle noticed in the early morning sunshine that the stand of trees they were passing through had a uniformed look about them, without really thinking, she blurted, “Those are apples!” Less for their food value than the possibility to stop the horse’s seesawing between her thighs.

  Saxon pulled upon the reins and he brought the horse to a walk. Joelle could feel the tension in his body. “We cannot keep this up. We are going to have to eat and rest. Perhaps, try on some of those clothes you have to see if they will help.”

  They were both of common understanding of each other’s intimate pain without needing to overtly state it. “I say they would never guess that we would stop within five miles of the castle. They will think we have traveled further taking advantage of the time they had to spend on the fire.”

  Neither she, nor Saxon, questioned the fact that Hellion or his cult followers would eventually come after them.

  “Right. And they will not think of the river, which is what we are going to look for as soon as we dress, eat, and rest. A boat, somewhere down the river.”

  They picked apples, filling one side of the hem of her cloak with them, while they each ate one. Now that the horse was walking, it was nearly bearable, and Joelle had never tasted anything as fine as the apples juices bursting into her mouth. Then, a little while later, she was the first one to see the field barn and she quickly pointed it out to Saxon. They found it was filled with hay and it appeared that the main farm residence must be miles away. But the best find was Saxon’s, because he found a water pump.

  They both walked as though they had huge balls between their legs and Joelle could not help laughing at the picture they made. “I am sorry.” She pressed a hand to her mouth looking at Saxon where they had stopped by the water pump.

  She burst out giggling again and Saxon’s chuckle followed as he bent to pump some water, while he cautioned, “Not too much at once.”

  They drank, hid the horse and tended to him, then they found a spot in the hay at the rear of the barn to collapse in.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Ouch,” Saxon winced, and Joelle saw that it was more than just his battered body. The straw had easy access to poke his bare skin in any willy-nilly fashion.

  “Let’s lay out my cloak.”

  Joelle did not allow herself a chance to think about it. They had seen each other naked for so long. Now was not the time to have hesitations about it. She just took the cloak off, then laid it out. Saxon watched the cloak and not her nudity. Then, she lay down on her side and he scooted over on his side facing her. She resisted the urge to cover her breasts or between her thighs. At this point in time, it really was a bit silly.

  “I need a hug, firefly.” She was so grateful to him. She reached for him easily and they embraced, snuggling closer. Her bare breasts pressed into his chest, while her chin pressed against the side of his neck. “Just what I need,” he sighed.

  “Yes,” she murmured, stroking his back slowly. She could feel the warmth of his hand pressed into the small of her back.

  “That riding was quite harrowing. For you also?” Joelle nodded against his neck. “We will find a boat to take us down the river. Then, we will trade the horse or my hook for a ride. The hook is silver.”

  “You are very clever.”

  “I have proof that I only shine in the light of your inventiveness.” Joelle leaned back to look down on the side of Saxon’s face as he looked down at her bare shoulder.

  “We will make it then?” she asked, half questioning, half answering as she felt a telltale stir firming against the thin cloth wrapped around Saxon’s waist, to which her lower belly was pressed too.

  Saxon’s head lifted as he spoke. “Together we will.”

  Joelle wanted nothing so much in that moment, but to kiss Saxon. A free kiss. Not coerced by a hypnotist. Her desire made her courageous. “I want to kiss you.” Her gaze lingered on his full sensual lips.

  Saxon’s answer was to lean forward and their lips kissed. It was like the first kiss ever between them. It was new, soul entrancing, and gently exciting. His lips moved over her mouth slowly and her mind centered exclusively on the sensation of their mouths touching each other. As natural as time passed, their kiss deepened and her nipples thrust outward in acknowledgment, poking the firm sinew on his chest. She purred her pleasure, humming against his lips, while she felt his male organ thicken and stiffen against her.

  “I live for the sounds of your purrs, firefly.” His mouth turned against her lips, “I want you.” Joelle’s answer came with an undulation against him. A woman’s sexual body stretching of beckoning. His lips abruptly pulled from hers. “But, I mustn’t.”

  “Hm,” she murmured with disappointment. Nonetheless, she followed him with her lips, until his head lay back and she pressed her mouth down over his lips.

  Her body shifting brought his warm hand to cup one of her buttocks as her naked mound found the lightly hairy bareness of his thigh. Then, her lips which were searching, living, and lusting with his mouth spoke to her sex and her sex agreed by riding his thigh with little craving undulations. It seemed a moment later that she conquered any hesitation Saxon had because he used his hand on her buttock to help lift and ride her mound over his thigh. She could feel the dampness she exuded, painting his flesh and making the way lightly slick.

  He rumbled in his chest as his tongue dashed into her mouth. The soreness of the ride and the temple sacrifice was deeper inside her. What she did now was as arousing and tempting as Saxon’s mouth on her sex. She wanted more! Perhaps she wanted to prove the natural goodness of it, or perhaps because she was simply selfishly allured. Saxon was everything desirous to her. He was her ideal of attraction. He even tasted like more . . . more . . . more.

  Saxon knew he should stop. Not that he was the soul purveyor of the igniting affair. Nevertheless, he was the man and he cared, and he would not be the sexual instrument of physically hurting Joelle again. There was no hope that after his brutish coupling upon her at the ritual that she could take his penis inside her. It loomed as a tragedy in his mind on more fronts than one. However, the exquisite feel of her over him, pressing supple female curves, riding the butterfly of her heart with wet promise over his thigh, and her lips. Oh Lord. Her lips, god help him, her lips. How could he ignore the inspiration and dedication they inspired? He was lost in the feel of her, and he did not want to be found. He was tumbling toward relenting, as his mind played, “what if’s,” with him.

  What if they did not couple, what if they kept from that, “what if?” He knew it would aid his healing. It would tug his mind away from reality. But it was a decision he could pull away from. He was strong enough.

  Well . . . he made the decision with a delicate mouth carnally sucking his tongue. He wanted light and fire. More, he wanted Joelle’s mind to twirl away into what pleasure he could give her. He found that love was equal degrees of greed and giving.

  Their flesh warmed as their mouths played deeper and deeper into passion. Joelle’s body moved over him. Her bare breasts tantalizing his chest as her hips swayed and she wiggled her pussy from his thigh to the base of his penis, with the rigidness of his penis lying down between his thighs. The thin material he had wrapped around his waist, and hanging like a loin cloth, did not hinder the feeling of dampness or heat as Joelle rubbed her impassioned pussy on the root of his prick. His hand helped, lustily squeezing, fondling, and guiding the curves of
her naked ass. He could spend hours just playing with the curving configuration of her buttocks. Her hard little nipple tips grazed up his chest, burrowing around with her increasingly aroused movements.

  Saxon kept his hook out to the side, away from their entwined undulations. But the part of his brain that could still function knew it was safer to remove it in the throes of lust. Leaving Joelle’s lips was a conquest of its own, yet he finally managed . . . nearly, with just pecks of her lips as he said with a husky tenor. “Let me take my hook off.”

  Joelle rotated her pussy as she kissed down his jaw, purring, and he squinted over her shoulder trying to see the straps. She was not helping as she nibbled down his throat using his body like a mat that she could sensually undulate on. However, her lower position did allow him to see better. Now if he could just get his eyes to focus. Fire and light. Fire and fire, he thought, finally able to toss his hook aside as his lady of fire suckled on the depression between his neck and shoulder. It seemed she was not willing to nibble lower and lose her seat at the base of his cock. He groped her buttock with a squeeze, tickling his finger along, and then into the crease.

  “Rise up,” he ordered.

  “Mm.” she moaned. The sound half-petulant at leaving her perch, but she found his lips again with a heated kiss, while she rose up on her knees. He had intentions, but it was very hard to think straight as arousal steamed through his thoughts. And then, he remembered to tug his wrap aside rather haphazardly in an awkward manner of trying to do two things at once. But he managed to get it free and himself bare as his hand returned downward for his prick, and he lifted it, until it lay on his belly.

  “Now, ride this, my hot little firefly.”

  Saxon used his fingers plied intimately along the sultry crevice of Joelle’s swaying ass to guide her understanding. She scooted upward on her knees, until her pussy lips spread out over the roundness of his shaft.

  “Oh mm.”

  Saxon agreed wholeheartedly as Joelle braced her hands on his shoulders, sliding her knees back until she could rub the soaking heat of her splayed pussy from the root to the head of his penis. Lord, and back again. The position put her breasts ripe for the picking and his mouth heated with the desire as he raised his head to nuzzle her lusty mounds.