“I didn’t know…I didn’t…” Reed felt terrible.
“It’s all right.”
Reed placed the tips of his fingers under her chin and tipped her head up so he could look into her eyes. “Did I hurt you?” Shaking his head, he berated himself, “What a stupid question.”
She kept her watery gaze downcast so he couldn’t see. “I’m good…really.”
“I wish I knew…” he started but then stopped.
“Why? What would have been different? The end result is the same right?”
I would have taken a pass…I think. “I could have went slower…prepared you better.” He looked at her pretty face, her disappointment apparent. Well…he amended, maybe he wouldn’t have taken a pass, but he certainly would have gone about it in a different way.
“Can’t you fix it?”
Reed almost laughed at the absurdity of her statement but held himself in check. “Raven…” He couldn’t believe he was still inside of her, and they were having a conversation. “You still want to?” he heard himself asking even though he knew he shouldn’t. Apparently his dick had other ideas and began swelling, pressing against her tight walls.
She nodded her head adamantly. Damned if she wanted this fiasco to be the memory she took from her “movie sex” moment. Granted her blockbuster movie had plummeted down to a “B” movie but it still beat the hell out of Benji Dobson, the slobbering P.E. with no D.C. (Premature ejaculator with no dick control)
Besides, if she didn’t do it now, her entire outlook of movie sex would be tainted for like, ever. Yes. She would definitely rather take her chances with someone like Reed
Reed slid his hand gently up her thigh eliciting tingling sensations. “Are you sure?” he rasped out, trying to control his urge to thrust deeply into her again.
“Yes.” She nodded biting her lip, preparing for the inevitable pain.
Lifting his hand to her face, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Very gently and methodically, he kissed her pillowy lips, and then moving down her face, he kissed her chin and continued on to the sweet spot on her neck, just below her ear.
Raven clenched her hands at her sides. Not from pain but from the way he was suddenly making her feel. When he reached between her thighs, she jerked back.
A vice clamped around his dick—at least that is what it felt like. “My God!” Reed gritted out, closing his eyes against the feelings coursing through him.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,” he groaned. “I am trying not to cum,” he explained, when he felt her tense even more.
“Oh.”
Once he got himself back in control, he adjusted himself. “I am going to touch you now,” he breathed against her lips, kissing her gently and sliding his hand down between the warmth of her thighs.
“Oh—kay,” she said slowly.
This time when Reed touched her, she tried not to move but the more his fingers tantalized the silken flesh between her thighs, the more she wanted to push against them.
“That’s it baby,” he murmured huskily against her lips. His deep sexy voice, caressing her, just as his fingers worked their wiles on her body. “You like that,” he asked, increasing the pressure.
Pressing forward, she cupped his face, kissing him back hungrily. “Uh-hmm,” she murmured against his mouth.
On and on, he attacked her senses, increasing the pressure and then softening his touch—his mouth mimicking every stroke. Soon she had completely forgotten the pain. “Reed,” she cried, writhing now against him.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coaxed her closer to the edge. Slowly he pulled himself back towards her entrance, and slid, oh so slowly back inside, making her tremble against his rigid length.
“Reed…” she cried, grasping his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh as he administered his exquisite torture.
“You are so damn sweet,” he murmured hungrily against her mouth—his dick harder than it had ever been in his life. She clamped down on him again, and this time he increased the pressure when he slid back inside.
“Does this feel all right?” he rasped, increasing his tempo.
“Yes,” she panted, peppering kisses on his face and then sucking on the saltiness of his neck.
He reached up and rubbed his thumb over her taut nipples. “Hmm, damn,” he moaned, sucking in his breath when she tightened around him again, clenching as he brought her closer to the brink.
He continued to toy with her flesh, driving her even closer. “Oh baby, you feel so good,” he gritted, trying to hold on, but he was so close.
“Reed…” she cried out, jerking upward, clenching tightly around him as the spasms of her orgasm tore through her body.
Slickened with sweat, Reed gripped her thighs, finally giving over to the moment. Pumping his hips faster, he thrust into her, again and again, his hips slamming against her soft flesh, until he too finally slipped over the edge and shattered completely.
If only for a moment
THE PASTRAVENHURST
WHEN things you set in motion do not go as planned desperation has a tendency to make an appearance. And in these moments, right and wrong blur together into a shade of gray. For Morrigan this was becoming a constant. She halted in front of the stables. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she called in a singsong voice, gripping a small bag of coins in her left hand.
A large hulking form stepped from the shadows. “Ye are late.”
“What difference does it make?” she argued, looking up at the giant. Scars of red and purple marred one side of his face. “I am here now aren’t I?” Idiot.
“I am a busy man and do not take kindly to waiting on anyone.” He snorted in displeasure and made a coughing sound deep in his throat. He hacked up a goodly amount of sputum into his mouth, swirled it around and then he spat it onto the ground at her feet.
“Watch it?” she said in disgusted and reflexively stepped away.
“I did, else I would have hit you.” He sneered at her. His beady black eyes that were too close together looked crossed, making him appear a might off in the head.
Although, Morrigan was sure he was anyway. Why else would he do a fool’s errand? “Did you find him?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Where is he?” Her eyes gave away her excitement at the prospect of finding him.
“Now, now, I ain’t telling ye a thing until I get that coin you promised me and my men.” He nodded his head for affirmation, giving her a look filled with loathing.
Morrigan’s step faltered. “Here,” she said, shoving the purse out to him. Merlin’s warnings from her dream flitted through her mind…let fate decide their paths… she started second-guessing her decision. Maybe…she should leave them be. Her hand trembled.
Grabbing her arm with his meaty hand, he yanked her forward off her feet. “I want something else sides coin from you,” he growled, his putrid breath wafting over her face.
“What?” She struggled against him, desperate to put some distance between their bodies.
“I want a kiss.”
“No!” Morrigan could not disguise her horror. “That was not part of the deal.”
“If ye make a deal with me, you need to make sacrifices too.” He smiled revealing a mouth full of broken jagged teeth, brown from rot.
Bile rose in her throat. “The deal is off.” Her feet swung in the air. “I have changed my mind,” she yelled. “Now get your filthy hands off of me.”
“You think you are so high and mighty, sitting in your castle,” he snarled hotly, inclining his head toward the keep, “like a Queen.”
“I do not think I am a Queen,” she argued, beset with fear suddenly.
“Right,” he said, giving her a doubtful look, yanking her forward. “I don like women like you.” He grabbed hold of her hair, forcing her head back roughly. “You sit on your pedestal passing judgment on poor folk like me!” He pulled on her hair even harder.
Tears flowed
freely from her eyes from pain. “I do not, I swear,” she lied.
“I can see you are lying to me but that don’t matter, I ain’t leaving without my kiss.” And with that, he lowered his mouth to hers and took what he wanted.
Morrigan opened her mouth to protest but the man was too strong. He caught her tongue between his teeth. A loathsome smile broke across his face as he held her tongue trapped. He increased the pressure, drawing blood.
The acrid taste of copper filled her mouth, choking her slowly. The end was near, she could feel it…the face of a much younger Merlin flashed before her eyes as her body shook from lack of air. Her eyes rolled back in her head and finally her body went limp in his arms.
Disgusted, he dropped her to the ground. “Not so high and mighty anymore. Are you…witch.” He bent down and yanked the purse of coins from her hand. Grunting in satisfaction, he turned and walked away.
Merlin looked at the reflection in the gazing pool as the water turned red before his eyes. Tightness gathered in his chest. He stumbled backward, grappling for purchase on the table.
“No. No. No! This cannot be happening!” His hands shook as he lifted them to his face, trying to block out what he had seen but it was no use. It was burned into his mind, scarring him from the inside out. Bright angry lashes surfaced on his otherwise flawless skin, as he tried to contain his grief. He could not breathe. Stumbling forward he flung his arm out in the air. Books upended and shot off the shelves in a wave, clattering across the markings etched on the floor. Unshed tears burned his eyes as he made his way over to cabinet on the far wall. The doors swung open with a protesting groan. With shaking hands, he withdrew the object he sought—a chest inlaid with amber, burned red in the dim light of the chamber.
“I will not let…this …” his sobs stilted his words; he could not finish what he wanted to say. Reaching up around his neck, he grasped the chain, jerking it off. A key of gold, swung haphazardly in the air. With shaking hands, he unlocked the chest and lifted the lid. The smell of rot permeated the air. He reached in and gingerly removed a single long dead rose.
He held the once beautiful flower in his hand.
“A red as bright as your own heart will bleed if you squeeze it too tightly from need.” He wrapped his hands around the thorn-ridden stem and squeezed, and squeezed until his hearts blood dripped down into the goblet on the table. He closed his eyes and let the memories wash over him as his blood flowed freely from his hand.
Once the goblet was full, he reopened his tear-filled eyes and pulled a piece of parchment across the table. A raven’s feather sat beside it—a makeshift quill. He dipped the end in his blood and scribbled the words down he needed.
“Until the key is found,
the door of time will be bound,
locked within for all time
…may no other be allowed piece of mind.”
He stared down at the parchment, blessedly feeling nothing for the moment. His blood turned a blackish color on the page, just like the rose he had held.
A new plan
THE PRESENTRAVENHURST
IN another century, a much older, wiser Milford ran just as quickly down the long passageway. The two keys in his pocket clanked together with every step he made. A constant rhythmic reminder, of what he had done. Winded, he hit the end of the corridor, making a sharp left; he teetered sideways and barely made it around the corner without falling. Inside the room, he struck the torches, and pulled out the cases he had stored. With both hands, he picked up handfuls of treasure and dropped it into the cases. He wasn’t picky about what he chose; he knew every piece was worth its weight in gold. Beads of perspiration broke out on his face as he exerted all his energy trying to fill the cases as quickly as possible. Once finished he zipped up the each case, and flipped them over on the ends and pulled up the handles. Grabbing each handle, he struggled to pull them back down the long passageway he had just come down. Once again, he wondered if there was an easier way.
Time is running out
THE PASTTHE GLENN
A hand roughly clamped down on her shoulder shaking her awake. Marguerite was in mid-scream when another hand came down on her mouth. When she opened her eyes, Darias was hovering above her, his expression one of lethal intent. Suddenly terrified, she immediately tried to jerk away, struggling for purchase on the grass behind her.
“Do not move,” he warned, barely above a whisper. He let go of her mouth and lifted his finger, pressing it to his lips. The metal of his sword made a chilling sound as he removed it from its sheath. Staying low to the ground, he crept forward through the thicket toward the tree line and the open field beyond.
Marguerite crawled up on her knees and looked around, her heart hammering out of her chest. She had envisioned them both riding off into the sunset together, into their very own happily ever after. But that was not to be the case, apparently. It was typical. Nothing was easy.
A blood-curdling scream split the air followed by the clash of metal, the ominous sound rang out harshly, dispersing the quiet of the forest.
Fear spurred her movements. There was a rock jutting up from the grass a few feet away and she scrambled over to it and picked it up. It was about the size of her palm, the edges pointed and sharp. Noting the heft, she wrapped her fingers around it and rose to her feet. Staying low to the ground, she made her way over to the tree line. A scream threatened to tear from her throat when she saw what was happening.
Three men surrounded Darias. A fourth was on the ground, his blood coloring the grass red underneath his still body. One of the men lunged forward, his sword slicing the inside of Darias’ arm. Fresh blood seeped through his sleeve. She clamped her hand over her mouth, the hot sting of tears welling in her eyes.
Darias’ long hair twirled in the air as he spun around with lightning speed and plunged his blade into his assailant’s heart and extracted it just as quickly. The man fell forward in the grass with a heavy thud right beside the other man. The smell of fresh blood permeated the air.
The other two men gave each other wary looks but still circled around him—one in the front and one now in the back. She could see by their expressions what they were about. They were waiting, their minds spinning variables of attack.
Standing in the middle, his body angled to the side, Darias waited as well. There was an eerie expression on his face, his eyes locked only on the man in front of him. He smiled and it was not a normal smile, it held lethal intent.
The man in the back nodded his head and together the two men ran at him.
At the last moment, Darias bent his body at an awkward angle, missing the lethal strike of his assailant from behind and sliced his sword upward, gutting the whoreson like a pig. Blood flowed from his stomach as his innards spilled out onto the grass, his limp body following.
Now there was only one left and he was the biggest of them all. He was a beast of a man, with too small beady eyes, a baldhead, and red and purple scars marring the entire right side of his face. He swung the battle-ax making a circular motion with his arm. The blade whirled through the air, hissing and then he slammed it down into his meaty palm. “Looks like its jes you and me pretty boy,” he said, and spat onto the ground.
“Hardly a fair fight,” Darias said, readjusting his stance, his left hand snaking slowly around to his back.
“This is gonna hurt me more than it does you.”
“That’s funny.” Darias smiled boldly “I was thinking the same thing.” Then he winked.
Letting out an ominous growl, the beast of a man barreled forward, swinging his battle-ax up in the air.
It happened so fast Marguerite could not comprehend what she was seeing until the beast of a man stopped abruptly. He stared in disbelief down at the dagger jutting from his chest. With a heavy thud, his ax fell to the ground. “That’s not fair,” he complained.
Darias shrugged. “I did warn you.” Then he swung his sword around, and silenced him for good. His baldhead bounced when it hit the
ground and the earth shook as his body followed behind.
Leaning forward Darias removed his dagger from the man’s chest, stood back up, and walked away.
One for the road
THE PRESENTRAVENHURST
CECILY hastily pulled on her clothes. “What did you say?”
“What?” Lucian asked, pulling on his boots.
“Come on Lucian. Cut the shit. What did you say?”
Lucian stood up and raked his hand through his hair a vulnerable look sliding over his face. “I told you I loved you.”
Tugging at the bottom of her shirt, she swallowed hard. “You love me?”
“Yes. I think I do,” he said with meaning.
“It’s an either or question Lucian. Not an, I think,” she snapped, not wanting to believe him. It would change everything. All this time she had been so sure he was just using her.
“Damn it, Cecily!” He shook his head. “Why do you make everything so damn hard?”
She felt pangs of doubt in her gut. “It is a simple question.”
“What is love, if not what we share together?”
“So poetic and yet still not a definitive answer to my very singular question.” She turned away, brushing hot tears from her face, hating herself for even caring.
He reached forward and placed his finger under her chin, turning her face toward his own. “The singular answer to your question is …yes,” he breathed and then gently placed a kiss on her lips. When she didn’t respond, he pulled back. “Aren’t you happy?”
“I am,” she insisted, feeling sick. “More than you will ever know.”
He dropped his hand. “Could have fooled me,” he said, looking wounded.
Cecily took a breath. “Lucian, I didn’t know.” She twisted her hands together.
“What didn’t you know?” He eyed her cautiously now.
Tears welled in her eyes. “I had no idea you felt that way…about me.”
“Yeah, well I don’t usually make it a habit to talk about my feelings. It still doesn’t mean that it is not true.”
Now and Forever:: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVEL ROMANCE NOVEL (RAVENHURST SERIES Book 5) Page 17