“Lorana?” Falcon asked, his golden eyebrows furrowed as he focused on that one perplexing name. “But we have been calling you Lorcan for centuries.”
Lorana sighed, her pale eyes darkening. “That would be due to Desmona. She taunted me with ‘Lorana can, Lorana cannot’, in reference to my ability to release myself from her hex. The name Lorcan eventually stuck due to her persuasive and mischievous nature, and because it seemed better fitting an old wizard man than Lorana did.”
“But who is this Desmona, and why would she taunt ye so and change ye into an elderly gent?” Catriona’s curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she made the prompt decision to appease it.
Lorana’s delicate jaw clenched. “She is an evil, vengeful sorceress who has held me under her spell for nearly four centuries. The only worthy thing about the hex proved to be that of becoming mentor over Falcon and John, and seeing all the good they have done over the generations. I suppose it served to soothe my maternal instincts raging within, as well.”
John chuckled, drawing Catriona close. “I must say I am in shock that a beautiful maiden has been hidden all this time beneath that wrinkled old skin.”
“By Jove, you can say that again!” Falcon interjected with a snort.
“Well,” Salena said softly, taking Lorana by the hand, “we all thank you for the part you have played in our love matches, and we welcome you back and wish for your future happiness.”
“Thank you,” Lorana whispered, a tone of humbleness in her feminine voice.
“Ah, well then, Lorcan—er, Lorana,” John supplied cheerily, “you will have to tell us the whole tale of this Desmona character over supper. Shall we all depart and invisilate to Sedgewick Castle?” He stretched and grinned sheepishly. “I definitely have more than enough energy to do so.”
Falcon threw his head back and guffawed. He slapped John on the back. “Eh, after all that spicy lovemaking, you should be set for eternity!”
They all chuckled, including Lorana. “‘Tis true, you should. And I should well know, for part of my torture was to have to watch all that delicious lovemaking, yet be deprived of it myself.”
Falcon’s mouth hung open. “You watched us this whole time? You poor thing.”
“I…” Lorana’s pale complexion pinkened, but despite her apparent embarrassment, she snorted. “I am the most sexually educated virgin to ever walk the face of this world.”
Collective laughter filled the barn.
Catriona’s giggles died down when something caught her eye. “Och! What is that there in yer robe?” She pointed to Lorana’s chest. Beneath the surface of her garments, a lump stuck up. Light glowed through the layers of fabric.
Lorana’s gaze fell and she gawked at the protuberance. Her hand shook as she traced its outline.
Salena went behind her and pushed aside Lorana’s hair. “‘Tis a chain with something attached.” She pulled on the necklace until the object emerged out of the neckline. Walking around Lorana so that she could face her, Salena held the jewel in her hand and cooed, “Oh my, ‘tis a gorgeous pendant with a sparkling amber stone.”
Lorana’s gaze rose, and Catriona saw that tears filled her eyes. “Thank the Lord, my spell has finally given me my Sagitar,” she nodded. “It means that Desmona’s curse could be nearing its end.”
“Sagitar?”
“Aye,” Lorana sniffed, the tears now streaming down her cheeks. “‘Tis my destiny’s key. Soon, I pray my antidote spell will finally free me of Desmona’s cruel hex. If I conjured it up correctly all those centuries ago, I should now find my soul mate with the Sagitar, and then this whole long nightmare will be behind me.”
She suddenly gasped, her gaze snapping from one to other. “But please, you all must remember… Should Desmona ever come to you, do not reveal to her my remedy spell and the medallions’ roles in breaking her curse. All three medallions must remain a secret from that vile bitch until my mate has been found and I have been released from her powers. That is the blessed day I will finally rejoice in my own revenge.”
Epilogue
One month later
“Mmm, aye, me gorgeous husband, just like that,” Catriona purred, arching her back.
They lay before the blazing fire in their suite at Sedgewick Castle. Falcon and Salena had long since returned to Wyngate Hall outside London, but Lorana had chosen to stay on at John’s manor for the time being. The early March winds whistled around the keep, but their fortress of endless love within the chambers kept the newlyweds safe and warm.
John circled his tongue around her taut nipple once again, driving her to madness and making her pussy engorge with blood. She hissed and fisted her hands into the bear rug she lay on.
Catriona pulled in a deep breath and savored the mixed scents of burning wood, all-male heat and sexual arousal. He skimmed a hot hand down her abdomen and traced her clitoris with a slow-moving, butterfly-light fingertip. As his mouth bypassed the Scorpian—her immortal lifeline—which lay nestled between her globes, he moved over to suckle at her other breast. When he pinched one lip of her labia between his fingers and stretched it up and away from her hole, her eyes widened at the new tactic. The pain-pleasure sensation made her groan and wriggle under his touch. He repeated the same procedure on the other lip, following that torturous new talent with the sinking of one long finger into her wet cunt.
“Oh!”
“Ah, Cat, I cannot ever get enough of you. You are far beyond sweetness and utter perfection.” He pumped her pussy, tracing his tongue under the curve of one breast, moving down further still across ribs, navel. Shivers of delight raced across her flesh.
“Well,” she panted, “ye’ll be havin’ an eternity to try yer best to get enough, love.”
“Never!” he vowed, and between his teeth, he nipped the skin stretched over her hipbone. “I love you, Catriona Lawton. I will never tire of you, my Gypsy.”
She groaned. “And I will never tire of ye, me thief. I love ye with all of me—”
He closed his mouth over her sex and stole her breath—nay, her heart!—from her chest. She bucked up against him, basking in the hot wetness that stroked her folds. Her hands stabbed into his hair, tangling in the long, thick mass of midnight silk. The fire at her right crackled in time with the snaps of pleasure that burst in her pussy. A log shifted and sizzled, ashes rising into the flue just when he shoved that finger deeper, adding a second to the outer ring of her anus. He circled his fingertip around the tight hole using drippings from her cunt to moisten it for entry. But when he slowly sank the digit into her ass, the other finger still in her vagina as he continued to devour her clit, she thought she had died and gone to heaven. A heavy, languid wash of desire engulfed her, followed by a desperate, sudden urge to slam herself up against him. She lifted her hips and bucked upward, crying out when sparks of lust licked at her womb and deep into her rectum. He groaned and slurped, loath to release her from this tormenting ecstasy.
It did not take long. The hot slickness of his tongue lapped back and forth over her nub, and the more she reached for him, the more he increased the pressure. It sent her swiveling up into a plume of violent, smoky hunger. She rode the smoldering cloud, her vision blurring, her lungs burning, as she traversed the very edges of heaven. Catriona suddenly stilled her frenzied dance and a ragged breath caught in her throat. The climax exploded in her like gunpowder igniting inside a cannon. The muscles in her ass and pussy convulsed around his fingers, sweet ecstasy spattering her as if her burning body lay beneath a welcoming torrent of rain. She showered his tongue and stubbled chin with her milky cream. Deep, yet high-pitched moans carried throughout the chamber in a lover’s song of joy.
John was ravenous, she knew by the crazed gleam in his vivid blue eyes. He nearly clawed his way up her body, his naked chest inflating and deflating with his impatience. “I have to get inside you, Cat—” he entered her in one long, violent stroke, “now.”
“Oh, bloody hell,” she rasped, hooking her an
kles behind him. “Ye’re so big!”
“Too late, wife.” He panted as he pummeled her, in, out, deeper, harder. He pushed up onto his knees taking her with him so that she straddled him in an upright position. She nearly swooned when the firelight danced over the aroused expression on his handsome face. “You are stuck with me and my huge cock for eternity.”
She would never be able to get enough of his thick girth and length, even in this erotic position with her weight pressing down firmly upon his tool. Catriona gripped the solid meat of his shoulders and slammed downward, grinding her clit against his pubic bone. His hands clenched her ass cheeks, the fingers biting into her mounds. He bent and kissed her neck making shivers of delight rumble through her blood. The kisses turned to sucking, then nipping. He growled and she felt his cock twitch inside her, a sure sign he hovered near his peak.
One hand came down on her bare rear in a sharp smack while the other continued to clench her flesh.
“Oh!” She gasped, surprise making her head snap back. She looked into the eyes of a wild animal at the very second the pain eased into pleasure. Trails of heat led from the point of contact on her ass to deep inside her loins. The fire on her buttocks had turned into some sort of wanton drug in a matter of seconds. She welcomed the warm, sticky discharge from her pussy. It pooled out around the base of his cock and dribbled onto his swollen sac. And Catriona knew at that moment her husband was introducing her to yet another hedonistic pleasure.
“Again. Do it again.” Her voice came out breathy, pleading.
“Mmm.” He smacked the other cheek, his teeth grinding together. “I am going to—aw, hell, I cannot hold back!”
The orgasm engulfed her as his hot cum filled her womb. She bounced up and down, drawing out the pleasure, focusing on the pain that continued to burn on her rear. It seemed to go on and on, both of them struggling to hold tight to one another as their bodies jerked and twitched. She felt the unmistakable sensation of John absorbing energy from her, and nothing in this world pleased her more than giving such a gift to her forever lover.
They fell in a tangled heap on the fur, John murmuring soft, sexy words of love in her ear as he nuzzled her neck, kissed her earlobe, stroked her sensitive breasts.
A knock sounded at the door.
John raised his head. “Who goes there?”
“‘Tis I, Lorana,” came the soft voice.
He sighed and set Catriona from him. To her, he murmured, “Don your nightrail,” as he wrapped a linen sheet around his hips, then bent and jammed on his braies. To Lorana, he raised his voice and barked, “Enter!”
The arched oak door swung slowly open. Even after the month since Lorana’s transformation, Catriona’s breath still caught in her lungs upon sight of Lorana. Her brilliant, almost pastel beauty could only belong to that of a princess. The long undulating locks of her flaxen hair spread around her lithe, feminine curves like the cape of a queen. She wore a burgundy, fur-lined cloak under its glorious spill, and Catriona could see that she had donned a sturdy black day dress beneath. The Sagitar dangled between her full breasts glittering golden in the languid light of the room. As Lorana glided further into the room, her silver eyes startling against the paleness of her heart-shaped face, Catriona caught a hint of her sweet, almost innocent essence.
“Forgive my intrusion at this hour, my lord,” she said almost as if she were a peasant in awe of her master. Her delicate girl-like voice sang in direct opposition to her fully ripe body, sure evidence she was all woman. “‘Tis just that a very important matter has arisen.”
John blinked and strode up to her. “Lorana, what it is? Are you all right?”
She nodded, one hand reaching out to grip John’s arm. “Aye, I am fine. ‘Tis just that…” Lorana spun and crossed to the fire, looking down on the very spot where they had just made love. The firelight danced upon the smooth planes of her face casting her in an angelic light. She reached up and fondled the Sagitar, and from her place at Lorana’s left side, Catriona could see her eyes searching far into the flames beyond the stone hearth.
“Lorana, are ye ill?” Catriona flew to Lorana and set a firm hand on her shoulder. She pressed her palm to Lorana’s forehead, but the skin felt cool to the touch.
“Nay.” She lifted her gaze, swung it slowly toward Catriona. Unshed tears filled the smoky orbs. “But I must go. Now.”
“Go?” John took quick strides across the room and flanked her other side. “Where? Why? Lorana, what has happened to make you insist on departing so abruptly—and at this hour of the night?”
Her lips thinned. She lifted the Sagitar and thrust it toward John. “This. This is why. It calls to me, a spell of my own making, tempting me beyond endurance. It calls me to my soul mate whom I do not even know. I cannot fight the medallion’s pull any longer. I cannot even wait until sunrise, the lure is so fierce. It tells me to go at this very moment, to follow my heart and not stop until I find him. So I must.”
John started to protest, but his jaw snapped shut in resistance. “Very well, then I will call upon Lance, Berwyk and Aric to escort you indefinitely.”
“Nay, ‘tis not necessary. Have you forgotten I am immortal too, with powers of my own? Just because I am female does not mean I cannot fend for myself.”
John blinked. “I see…well then, how about simply for company? You cannot be left unaided out there in that nasty world. And I do not wish you to become lonesome.”
Lorana smiled, the warmth and affection reaching her glistening eyes. She pressed her palm to his cheek and stared up into his eyes. “Your concern warms my heart, John. I readily admit my own concern for you and Falcon was haphazard due to Desmona’s spell. So to have the care and worry I attempted to show you and Falcon over the centuries returned to me means more than you will ever know.” The tears trickled down her ivory cheeks, but the smile remained on her face. “I pray you both have known that I have loved you like you were my own sons. That I will always love you.”
John inhaled and drew her into his arms, his breath coming out in a resigned groan. “Aye, your love was always apparent, despite Lorcan’s peculiar ways.” He pressed a kiss on top of her head. “And Falcon and I always returned that love and affection in our own curious way.”
Lorana squeezed him tight and quickly withdrew. She scurried toward the door. “I must go now. I will visit you all on occasion. Please give Falcon and Salena my love.” With her hand on the doorknob, she slid her gaze to Catriona. “And to you, as well, Catriona. I will always be indebted to both you and Salena for your parts in breaking down this spell.”
Catriona nodded. “‘Twas me pleasure. Godspeed to ye.”
Lorana merely bowed her head and backed from the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Catriona wound her arms around John’s neck and pressed her cheek against his thick chest. Lorana’s unique, faint scent of sweet ginger still clung to John’s clothing. Catriona inhaled its aroma, feeling a great sense of indebtedness to Lorana for her part in their happiness. She was so grateful to have happened upon John that day weeks ago, and glad that she did not have that long journey of searching for love ahead of her as Lorana did.
“John?”
“Hmm?”
“How long do ye suppose it will take her to find her intended mate?”
His breast expanded as he drew in a lengthy, deep breath. “She may not realize it or wish to face it, but my feeling is that Desmona is not through with Lorana yet. Aye, I suspect it will be a long, cruel journey before Lorana finally finds her mate and is released from the spell…if ever.”
Catriona kissed him, loving the gentle giant she had been bound to by destiny. When she felt the stirrings of his cock through the thickness of her nightrail and his braies, she decided she would wait until a better time to tell him of her recent séance encounter. During meditation earlier that day, the spirit of a dead man had come to her adamantly demanding to speak with Lorana. Within seconds, she had lost the connection, leaving her w
ondering if she had imagined it.
But right this moment, Catriona knew she did not imagine the huge erection pressing into her abdomen. Aye, she would inform her husband of the strange spirit contact at a more appropriate moment when passion was not stealing the very voice from her soul.
The End
About the Author
Titania Ladley knew it was necessary to hang up her stethoscope forever and write fulltime when her characters started coming to work with her on the graveyard shift. A pretty scary prospect when a nurse is unable to tell the difference between patients, spirits and her over-active imagination. So for the benefit of mankind, Titania clocked out one morning after working a grueling twelve-hour night shift and dragged her persistent characters home with her. She marched in the door, tossed her bag of medical paraphernalia into the spare bedroom and put her trembling, tired hands to the keyboard. You bet she was scared out of her booty! But there was just no other way for Titania to live—nor was there for her patients. ;-)
Happily, Titania’s never looked back. Residing in Minnesota with her very own hunky hero, one child remaining at home and twins in college, Titania devotes her spare time to family, reading erotic romances, walking, weightlifting, crocheting and baking fattening desserts. And arguing with her stubborn alpha males and kick-ass heroines.
Titania welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Also by Titania Ladley
A Wanton’s Thief
Bat Scratch Fever
Enchanted Rogues anthology
Jennie In a Bottle
Me Tarzan, You Jewel
Moonlite Mirage
A Gypsy's Thief Page 19