A Gypsy's Thief

by Titania Ladley

  He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, drinking of her flavor, tantalized by the silky wetness of them. A sharp quickening in his belly sent a rush of blood to his cock. He felt his balls draw up in anticipation of release.

  “But—”

  He shook his head to halt her dissent. “Nay, I do not require to know a person inside and out in order to protect them from evil. Ah, but I have just made the determination that I would, nonetheless, like to become familiar with all of you…if you would but give me the opportunity.”

  “Och, mon. ‘Twas but a dream ye cannot protect me from. But this dream, this horrible nightmare…it seemed so verra, verra real.” She shuddered and he drew her closer.

  “‘Tis all right now, love.” He paused for a moment rubbing her arms with his hands as curiosity burned in his brain. He longed to call Falcon in to spy upon her thoughts, but that would only serve to chase her further away. “Care to talk about the dream?”

  “I… Nae, ‘tis done and well gone, thank the stars of the blessed dead.” She glanced away, her wide gaze drifting to the window’s display of the dawning of a clear day. A quaver hovered beneath the surface of her voice. “John, I cannot dally much longer. Ye…ye do not understand. I dare not—”

  “Mmm,” he murmured, ignoring her reference to departure. “I love the way your voice is released between your lips all breathless and husky with emotion when you speak. Your brogue enchants and holds me spellbound, like a symphony of harps. Frankly, Catriona Graham, I’m captivated by every little thing about you.”

  “John…”

  “Shh.”

  Unable to resist—and he supposed as a tactic to distract her from the lovely weather outdoors—he slid one hand down into the neckline of her gown, slow, deliberate, until his palm became filled by her breast. She gasped and the nipple sprang to life against the pad of his finger. His free arm glided downward. As it made its maddeningly slow trek, he caressed her shoulder, her spine, each plane and angle of her waist, until he had her held firm to his side.

  She groaned, her head tipping back so that her long tresses brushed his knuckles. “And I find meself spellbound by a sorcerer.” She hissed it out with a note of half-reluctant passion, half-injured pride. The ambiguity only endeared him more to her.

  Inhaling deeply, he drew in a lungful of her sleepy aroma. “Oh, my Cat.” He captured her mouth with his, and pressed her back into the bed so that his lower body covered hers. John tasted paradise, his tongue sweeping and probing into the sweet sea between her lips. She breathed in, breathed out, her chest falling and rising into the hand he continued to explore her breast with.

  Greedy now, she combed her fingers into his hair, drawing him down tightly against her. She devoured his mouth as he did hers. God of eternity, have mercy! John’s pulse beat erratically. His cock throbbed. He ground the hardened mass into her warm thigh, reaching for relief that would not come.

  Already, revitalization poured into him just from her amorous kiss. But John had to get closer. He needed more—he needed it all. Dragging the gown up with one firm stroke, he found what he sought. The soft curls gave way to the wet petals of her pussy. She whimpered into his mouth when he stroked the swollen clitoris. His movements were slight and fluttery in the beginning, just enough to make her want more, to send her upward toward a pinnacle she could not return from. Catriona’s body writhed beneath him, and she cried out and bucked when he finally buried his middle finger into her sticky passage.

  “Oh!” She tore her mouth from his. Her voice came out in a succession of short rasps. “Ye…oh, please. John, I-I do so want ye again.”

  “Want ‘tis a strange thing, is it not, Catriona?” His teeth nipped first her jaw, then the silken flesh of her neck. His finger moved in and out, coated with her white cream, warmed by her passion. As he spoke, he shifted and slid the gown up further with his other hand, all the way until the peaks and slopes of her chest were bared for his perusal. Both nipples sat atop the mounds like glistening jewels. He hungered for them, longed to taste every inch of her flesh both outside and in. So he did.

  Lord of immortals, she tastes salty and sweet, like a decadent French tart!

  “It can make you wild,” he went on, seducing in whispers. “That burning want can make you do things you would never have thought to do before now…”

  “Aye,” she murmured. “Aye.”

  He inserted another finger, joining it with the first. She moaned, thrashing her head from side to side as he closed his mouth over one tight knot. “Like making love with me…”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She nodded her head vigorously, arching her back when he rammed a third finger into her pussy. His teeth clamped playfully onto the areola.

  John held up her breast, slathering its roundness with his tongue. “Like allowing others to watch as I bring you to climax?”

  “Mmm, I…oh, ye’re such a wicked mon.” Her sweet song came out on a shudder. “Ever since I opened me eyes to find yer healin’ hand at me breast… Ah, ye tempt me beyond distraction.”

  Her words pleased him more than he could say. Aye, he yearned to be her only tempter, and a large part of him wanted her completely to himself. But Salena had suggested something to him and Falcon recently. Her notions of magnifying their powers twofold taunted John, teased him to utter lunacy. Images of the four of them entwined in lovemaking embraces burned in his mind like smoldering coals in the hearth. He knew what benefits and pleasures it would bring them all, including Catriona, even if she did not comprehend it just yet.

  John had heard the door open and click shut shortly after he had gathered Catriona into his arms to soothe her fears. There had been no need to see for himself who had entered her chambers. He had known without a doubt Falcon had come to apprise himself of the situation, to make certain the screams had not been due to danger within John’s quarters. It was merely a part of their bond and caring, a facet of their brotherhood that went unsaid between them.

  This very instant, Falcon and Salena both watched. John knew it with a sharp instinct without even glancing over his shoulder. Falcon’s cock would be stiff within his braies, his upper body bare after bolting from bed. Salena’s pussy would be hot and slick with desire as she watched John make love to Catriona. Her nipples would be pressed like ripe berries against the thin fabric of her low-necked nightgown, the Centaurus dangling between her full breasts. And she would be watching with a sparkle of approval in her aqua eyes.

  Aye, the prim woman of years past, long since turned wanton. It had all been Salena’s suggestion, a foursome rather than their usual trio. She fervently hoped making love with two women at once would bring about twice as much immortal energy than John and Falcon normally gained with one woman. Salena’s eternal life, it had seemed, had evolved into such a feverish love for her husband and a fondness for John, that she had become a near crusader in the cause to keep them both powered.

  “You speak of temptation, my vixen?” He shoved her arms above her head and drew the gown up, exposing her lush body for all to see. John dragged it over her face but he left the sleeves on her arms. Winding the bulk of the garment around her forearms, he bound her in place.

  She whimpered, her emerald eyes glazing with lust. “More. I yearn for more. Please, remove yer braies.”

  “Look at you now. A shrine of seduction,” he accused, ignoring her plea.

  “More…”

  “Oh, I promise you,” he warned, “you will get more, much more.” Holding her arms in place with one hand, he took the other and shoved the braies down over his hips, kicking them off.

  “Hmm, promises from a thief. Ah, if only he would just deliver and cease snatchin’ me verra breath from me lungs,” she rasped, her flared hips bucking against his thigh.

  Such true womanly passion, such inborn seduction! If his cock got any harder, it would burst. Just knowing Falcon and Salena watched her response to his touch brought John to a whole new pinnacle of pleasure. And he wanted Catriona to feel the same rus
h in her loins, wanted to be certain of her desire as she learned of the hedonistic turn of events.

  He wedged his way between her legs and aligned his rod with her cunt. “Turn your head, my love, there toward the portal. I want you to see what your beauty and fire have caused, what promises you seek.”

  Her dark eyebrows dipped in confusion. She licked her lips making him thirst for their dew. Slowly, she rolled her head to the side. John entered her at the precise moment her gaze became fixed on Salena and Falcon. Catriona gasped followed by a strangled moan of ecstasy.

  Slick. Oh-so slick and tight! Being a tall, slender woman, her body had no problem accommodating his length. The girth of him was all but choked by her snug pussy. He nearly spilled his seed right then and there.

  “T-this is not happenin’. They…they are watchin’ us.” Lustful fascination edged her voice. Her hips began to move. He felt her inner walls spasm around his penis. John looked down at her, her arms secured above her head by the haphazard wind of her gown. He could see one eye narrowed with yearning as she kept her head turned toward the door. A wild, animal-like gleam shone from its depth, as if she were a surrendering mare being ridden by the king stallion. He studied her regal profile, the small, straight nose, the lips swollen by his kisses. And, oh, that body!

  “What are they doing, Catriona?” He bent and tasted of the dusky slope of her neck. “Describe it to me.”

  “Mmm, John, oh, John…that feels so verra good—and ‘tis so wicked what they are doin’.”

  He drew back and rammed into her, his breath escaping in a ragged wisp, just as hers did. “I beg of you, tell me, what wicked things do you see, Cat?”

  “She is half naked…ah, such a beautiful little body. He has her…bent o’er the back of the chair. And, oh, John, h-his…”

  “His what?” John demanded. That sexy Scottish burr only added to the allure of her. It made him crazy to hear the husky, accented edge, to feel its robust stroke in his ears. Beyond control now, he yanked the gown from her arms and gathered her up so she could cling to him. Unable to bear it any longer, he swung his gaze to see Falcon nude, forgotten braies down around his ankles. His powerful body tensed and glistened by the firelight as he stroked himself in and out of Salena’s hole. She was bent over a wing chair near the fire, her gown shoved up over her hips, the round swell of her ass jiggling with each pounding thrust.

  “God help me, but his shaft looks so verra huge and…nice.”

  John let out a groan. He was almost there. But he had to hear it from her mouth first. “Will you do it? Will you make love with me—and them at the same time?”

  She cupped his face in her hands. Pressing her mouth to his, she murmured, “Aye. For ye, to see if ‘twill give ye the massive powers Salena theorizes it may. Please ken, me thief of hearts, only for ye do I agree to yer hedonistic request. To supply ye with that much needed energy just this once before I depart.”

  Despite the mention of her impending departure, glee slammed into him at the exact moment the orgasm escalated. “Thank you, my Cat.” He thrust in and out of her slickness, loving the scent of her sex, her soft flesh against his chest, her warmth. John took her mouth in a gentle, insistent kiss, drinking of her wild flavor. And he knew he had fallen in love with a witch when her muffled cry of ecstasy filled his mouth at the exact moment Salena and Falcon groaned out their pleasure.

  John’s body spasmed with the energy he took from Catriona. He spilled his seed into her womb and collapsed in a heap of centuries-old relief.

  Chapter Five

  “Who is this Duncan chap?” He lay on his side facing her, his head propped upon a fist. With his free hand, he trailed a finger over her hipbone, skimmed her silky waist. Across the room, Salena and Falcon silently prepared to slip from the room.

  Catriona’s gaze darted lethal and sharp to snare him with an incredulous look. She slapped his hands away and drew a blanket across her nakedness. “Where did ye hear that name?”

  He stared agog at her, briefly stunned by her brusque reaction. “From your own lips, Catriona. You dreamed of this Duncan. You called out his name in sleep with utmost fear in your voice.”

  “Nae!”

  “Oh, aye.” He leaned closer, determined now to get to the bottom of this abrupt change in mood. John reached across her and planted one hand on the bed. The heat from the swell of her hip warmed him to the very bone. “Now I inquire one last time, who is he?”

  “He is Duncan McNicol of the clan Nicol,” Falcon said as he pulled up his braies and fastened them. He strode around the chair and across to the adjacent sofa, Salena on his tail. “Of the clan she no longer pays homage to.”

  Catriona’s sharp, indrawn breath preceded her scathing words. “Ye bastard! How dare ye invade me mind? How dare ye?” She scrambled up and away from John, huddling alongside the mahogany headboard, the blanket drawn tight beneath her chin.

  “My apologies, milady,” Falcon said with conviction as he sank into the overstuffed settee before the fire. “But with your life in extreme danger, I find it necessary.”

  Salena curled onto Falcon’s lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Normally, the move would have roused John’s libido, but there appeared to be a pressing matter at hand before pleasure could be sought once again.

  “Catriona, none of us—particularly John—are here to hurt you.” Salena gave a gentle smile, one that had her eyes twinkling with emotion. Her long burnished locks flowed over her bosom. “You must believe that. Obviously, your troubles over this Duncan plague you even in sleep, otherwise, we would not have been awakened by your screams of terror this eve.”

  Teardrops glittered in the corners of Catriona’s eyes making John’s heart ache. He started to reach for her, but halted at her words. “‘Tis none of yer affair. Any of ye.”

  John eased back, hardening his expression. “We shall see about that.”

  “Mayhap ye are daft and a wee bit too arrogant for yer own good,” she snapped back on a sniffle.

  He could not help but clench his jaw. “Nay, simply practical…and finally accepting of Lorcan’s visions.”

  “Lorcan! Why is it this old wizard seems to have a place in everyone’s life?” she spat.

  “Everyone?” Falcon put in from across the room. His voice held a trace of curiosity laced with a knowing assurance, despite the single, questioning word.

  Salena slid a glance of womanly insight from John to her husband. She unfolded herself from Falcon’s lap and glided toward the bed, her gaze fixed on Catriona. Salena’s full breasts bounced as she walked, the pink nipples straining against the thin fabric of her gown. “We all must know…have you seen Lorcan?” Salena asked of Catriona.

  The low firelight leaped and flickered behind Salena as she sashayed nearer. John could see the luscious swell of curves outlined by the orange shimmer of light, the contours of her labia silhouetted by the glow of the fire behind her. Tenderness, gratitude and a sort of awe for this special woman welled up inside him. Nay, he would never be able to love her as Falcon did, but there was a bond there, one between all three of them, that would now have to be expanded to include Catriona. Oh, she would not be accepting it anytime soon, but if he could not convince Catriona she belonged here, fate would play its usual role and do it for him. And it seemed Lorcan had already been playing his part in seeing to the future as well.

  As John watched Salena move closer, he thought of Catriona’s lush body. With the exception of Salena’s, it had fit his large girth like no other woman in history had—nay, even more precise than Salena’s. Catriona had not feared his big size upon sight, or experienced the usual pain and tenderness during lovemaking that usually sent women fleeing for the hills. That alone, Scorpian and fate aside, proved to be enough to seal his future with her. Her gift of love to him would come with time…if it had not already. If the surprisingly strong surge of love he felt for her did prove to be reciprocated, this Duncan fellow—whoever the bloody hell he was—would have to be eradic
ated from her mind.

  “Gentlemen…” Salena sat next to Catriona, nudging John aside. He rose grudgingly and stood at the bedside. In spite of their partially clad bodies, Salena gathered Catriona in her arms, ignoring Cat’s rigid response. Only the linen sheet Catriona coveted and Salena’s sheer gown stood between them. “Please leave us this instant.”

  “Nay.” John shifted his stance and started to sit.

  Salena halted him. She reached out and curled her hand into his, her eyes angling up at him with stern affection. “We must ease her into this, John. Go now—and take Falcon with you. Imbibe in a tankard or two of ale, then return in but an hour’s time.”

  “Ale so early in the morn’?” Falcon chimed in, sidling up beside John.

  Salena waved a hand. “Ah, then break your fast. Just go. It—she—will be fine.”

  “Do not speak of me as if I am a child forgotten in the next room.”

  “I am sorry,” Salena said gently, her jovial gaze shifting to Catriona as she patted her arm. “It is sometimes necessary to converse with thick-skulled men in such a fashion.”

  Catriona suppressed a short giggle that warmed John’s heart. Mayhap he should step out for a bit and see what magic Salena could work on the stubborn woman? Between the three of them, they should be able to get to the bottom of this Duncan character whom seemed to have plagued Catriona’s past.

  Falcon slapped John companionably on the back. “I believe my wily wife has spoken. Come along, my good man. Let us go and see what mischief we can stir up with the cook while the ladies converse in that female manner…which a man will never comprehend.”

  Salena snorted. “Be off with you both!”

  John nodded. “As you wish.” His wavering gaze took in the sight of the two women sitting adjacent to one another on the bed, Salena’s left arm draped over Catriona’s bare shoulders. It did something to his insides, made his stomach tighten with both desire and an unexpected bit of jealousy. It was irrational, he knew, but nonetheless, it made his body go taut with anxiety as he jammed on his braies and stepped from the room.