Unlocking Adeline (Skeleton Key)

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Unlocking Adeline (Skeleton Key) Page 14

by J. D. Hollyfield


  “No. God, no. Keep going,” I push him to continue. His mouth goes back to where I need him, as I adjust to this new sensation. He sucks lightly, using his tongue to tease my hard tip. My thoughts are so jumbled. How have I not done this before? I want to push his mouth farther onto my boob, and beg for more pressure, but the pulling of his hair I didn’t realize I was doing, gives him the clue. He lifts his other hand, wrapping around my free breast, squeezing just as he bites the tip of my nipple.

  “Oh God, Locke, yes,” I pant, my voice sounding strange. There is nothing like this. Nothing I know how to compare it to. The way my body is so out of control with sensations, I’m not sure I can handle anything more.

  “Yer body is on fire for me. I can feel the way ye shake underneath me,” he grunts, sounding as turned on as I am.

  “More, Locke I need more,” I beg. I need his mouth on mine. I need his hands all over my skin, I need him—

  “Oh God!” I throw my eyes open when his hand releases my breast, instantly cupping my center. A place only I’ve ventured. I quickly reach for his hand to stop him. He is quicker though, taking my wrist and halting me. “I told ye never to hide from me.” His eyes are boring into mine. I stop fighting his grip and he slowly releases me, bringing his hand back between my thighs. “I’ve dreamt about this place. This part of ye. How soft ye will be. How warm. Wet and ready for me as I touch ye.”

  How? How do words have such power? My nipples perk, and my thighs squeeze, needing something. But Locke knows. He reads my body. With his scorching lips, he begins trailing kisses up my chin, until his mouth is covering mine, and he takes what he wants. And just when I think he’s done, he takes some more.

  It’s not until we’re both out of breath that he finally releases me. “I bet ye taste just as sweet everywhere, and I plan on finding out,” His eyes wicked; he begins to slide down my body. Oh God, where is he going? To my shock, he doesn’t stop until his mouth is just over my core. He brings his head down, smelling me.

  “Oh God, what are you doing?” I panic. I try and push him away from me, but his hands that are now wrapped around my hips, only tighten. “Just like I told ye. I need to taste ye. Don’t worry, ye will find pleasure, Princess. I promise.”

  Oh God. I am so embarrassed. I have never thought I would be in this position. I know about sex, but the ala carte parts of it? I am clueless. I’m worried I won’t like it. What if I’m— “Ohhh God,” I moan as his strong tongue strikes me. Again he licks, and I buck under his hold.

  Heaven. This feels like heaven with a little bit of hell. The feeling is amazing, but the wait between each assault is torture. It’s when he places a finger just inside my folds and enters me that I break.

  “Jesus Almighty, ye are perfect,” Locke groans as he works his finger in and out of me, while using his tongue. All these new sensations running through my veins are building something powerful inside me. My hands have again latched themselves back in Locke’s hair, and I can’t help but pull it while pushing his head closer to mine. As he mauls me, his fingers working faster, it’s the moment he inserts another one that something extraordinary happens. A shooting force, starting from my legs all the way up my spine, my back arches and a soundless scream leaves my lips. Stars form behind my eyelids as my vision blurs, and my first orgasm of all eternity explodes through me.

  I have never felt something so wonderful.

  In time, I slowly release my hold on Locke’s head, allowing him to crawl up my still quivering body, as he spreads gentle kisses over my navel, in between my breasts, and thankfully on my lips.

  “Beautiful,” he whispers, giving me small pecks to my mouth. I’m unable to talk, so I close my eyes and nod. It’s when I feel the sudden loss of his heat that my eyes open. Locke is off the bed undoing his shirt. Bringing the white cloth off his shoulders, he exposes his bare chest. And oh dear Lord, he is magnificent. Pure solid muscle, which is what I imagined anytime our bodies were pressed together. He discards his shirt, not missing the hungry way I’m staring at him. “See something ye like, Princess?” his voice dark and taunting.

  “I’m not sure. I think you need to keep going.” I shock myself with my bold statement. I end up wanting to kick myself when his expression turns feral, and he begins to work off his pants. It’s then I realize I have gotten myself in way over my head. I don’t know if and when is a good time to bring up the fact that I have never done anything like this before. The second he pulls his pants off completely, I know I’m in big, no huge, trouble.

  “Jesus. What are you planning to do with that?” I accidently let my thoughts slip. I’m not sure this is going to work out. I am petite for my age, but him, and that. No way. He’s going to split me in two. I open my mouth to argue, but he’s already on the prowl, his weight over me, and his heat turning me into a pile of mush. “Locke,” I whisper, trying to tell him. But his mouth on my breast causes my brain to malfunction.

  “Shhh. Don’t worry lass, I promise to be gentle with ye,” he coos, working his way to my other breast and taking a mouthful. God, he is so good at that. He uses his knee to push apart my legs, his strong hands gripping at my waist.

  “Locke,” I say again with a little bit more force, unable to fully separate my sternness from my plea.

  “Relax, Princess, ye will feel me soon enough. So needy ye are,” he breathes into my chest, lifting his head, ready to take my mouth.

  Just as he adjusts himself where he wants to be I yell, “Locke!”

  Halting him in his pursuit, “Jesus, what’s wrong?” He looks at me, waiting for my response. Now that I’m in the spotlight, I don’t know how to confess something that he may not be happy about. The longer he stares at me, and the longer I stare back, the realization begins to set in.

  “Adeline?”

  “Yes?” My voice sounds weak.

  “Are… Are ye a virgin?” God that sounds so pathetic when he says it. Like I’m a child or inexperienced. I feel embarrassed. I try and turn my head, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. He catches me by the chin, bringing my head back into focus. “Look at me, Addie.” I want to refuse, but I can feel his eyes boring into me, and I open my lids to his fiery orbs. “Jesus Christ, tell me now, are ye?”

  “Yes… Yes, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, I—” His mouth comes crashing down onto mine. His hands come up, holding my head in place while he kisses me. His roughness is back as his tongue delves into my mouth, hitting every single part of my mouth. He begins to slow, then releases me. Lifting up, I’m nervous he is going to tell me this was a bad idea.

  “Ye are mine. Do ye hear me? Only mine.” His words are strained.

  “Wait, you’re not mad?” I ask, needing to know before we go any further.

  “My God, Addie, mad? No, I’m not mad. I’m… I’m fucking honored to think I will be the only one who gets to take something so precious from ye. Ye are perfect. Pure. And I am going to ravish every part of ye, until I feel ye in my blood. God, Addie, thank ye.”

  His words hit me hard. I wasn’t expecting him to be so happy, or thankful. I never really thought that saving myself was important. When I was young, I wanted to save myself for my prince. When I grew up, I couldn’t get rid of it to save my life. And now, funny how life works, I’m about to give it to the one person I spent half my life wishing would take it from me.

  “Please, Locke.” I don’t know what else to say. My body is humming for something. I need him inside me. I need his closeness. He presses another kiss to my lips and again guides himself where he needs to be.

  “It’s going to hurt a bit, okay? But it will pass.”

  I nod, quickly wrapping my arms around his neck. “I trust you.”

  Those three words do something to him in that moment. His eyes grow black, his beautiful crescent mark still shining through the darkness. It’s then I realize my own mark is on fire. Waiting no longer, he pushes inside. The burst of pain shoots through me and Locke covers my screams with his mouth, kissing away the pain. O
nce he is deep inside, Locke stills, allowing me to get used to him. He pulls out just a tad, and slowly glides back in.

  “God, ye are so tight,” he moans, his teeth grinding. He begins to move again, the pain slowly subsiding, and something else moving into its place. Pleasure. I know he is trying to take it slow for me, but as the pleasure overrides the pain, there is nothing I want slow.

  “Locke, move, please,” I beg, my fingers scraping down his back.

  “I don’t want to hurt ye.”

  “I’m going to hurt you if you don’t start moving,” I threaten, needing friction. With my kitten of a threat, he begins to move. Him filling me is a feeling like no other. Each thrust. Each rhythmic movement that brings our bodies together and closer, so exactly, is something I want never to end.

  Locke continues at a pace almost tormenting, until I bring my nails to his back, scraping down. This sets him off, groaning into my mouth, and slamming into me. “Ye feel incredible. I don’t ever want to this end.” I want to feel like this for eternity, but I’m too close. I try and fight it, because I don’t want to stop, but the pressure builds again and as it hits the highest peak, another orgasm crashes through me. I brace myself, throwing my head back, while Locke picks up his pace, thrusting deeper and harder. Once, twice, three more times until I feel him grow even bigger inside me, throwing his own head back, moaning through his own release.

  We lay there, Locke’s heavy weight still on top of me until we’re able to catch our breath. Too soon, Locke flips us so I’m now on top. As my face lies on his heaving chest, a smile breaks across it. “I feel ye smiling, was that okay for ye?”

  I giggle, feeling more than okay. “Yeah, I was just wondering why I haven’t done that before. If I knew it was going to feel so—”

  Locke flips us once again, now towering over me. His eyes suddenly change, the fire replacing his sated ones, from just a moment ago. “Ye will not speak of anyone else, do ye hear me? Ye are mine, Adeline. I will gut any man who looks at ye, do ye hear me?” He’s furious; the thought of me being with someone else angers him.

  I’m not sure whether to find it romantic or scary, but I fight the smile either way. “Got it,” I respond through my breached lips. He wipes away the runaway hair sticking to my cheek, a gesture I’m beginning to love from him.

  “Now that we have that out of the way, how do ye feel? Are ye sore?” he asks, skimming his fingers down my side.

  I feel a little sore, but nothing crazy. I feel more bliss than anything. Happiness. “I feel like maybe we should do all that again, and then you should ask me.”

  His eyes light up instantly. My sexy ogre deep into lust. “I will accept yer challenge.” He smiles mischievously, and we start from the very beginning.

  We ride back to Wren in the early morning, the sun seeming a little brighter than before. As I snuggle into Locke’s hold on me, I can’t stop thinking about what happened last night. The way he consumed me. Took every part of my body and demanded I submit to his touch. His words were like scorching lyrics that will forever be embedded into my mind. But what did that all mean? As Wren comes into view, another feeling brews to the top of my mind. What happens from here? Locke must feel me tense because he squeezes me tighter, placing a small kiss to the base of my neck.

  “It will be fine. Don’t think about it.”

  I lift my head, turning to face him. “What will be fine, Locke? What happens from here?” We took a big step last night. I took a big step. With me giving myself to Locke, does that mean that I chose to stay? Does it mean he has chosen to take up a wife? I think about how we didn’t use any protection, and we may have done exactly what I was throwing my hands in the air yelling no way to, and that’s get pregnant.

  I mildly panic. I never asked Locke if he was going to marry me. I let my heart lead the way last night, and without thinking, I allowed him to do so many things without asking if it meant that he wanted me. Wanted us. We were so lost in the moment, the ale intensifying the emotions brewing between us. The way the townspeople brought us together, as if we were the most dazzling couple they’d seen since the king and queen themselves.

  Last night, he vowed that I was his. But what did that mean? When I looked into his eyes, his telling eyes, they didn’t scream any promises to me. Even before he laid me down, he didn’t promise me anything but pleasure, which he certainly gave me. In those eyes I got lost. Lost in a thought. A hope. A dream that he was letting me in. But now, as we hit the last mile marker before entering back into Wren, I realize he vocally promised me nothing.

  “Locke, I think we should talk about—”

  “Locke! Locke!” We both turn, spotting a woman coming into view, her slender frame running toward us, breaking what I was going to ask. It’s then I feel Locke tense behind me.

  “Who is that?” I ask, as the woman makes her way closer to us. Wearing a royal blue empire dress, making her look perfect in just the right places as her hair flows around her face. It’s when she is close enough into view that I notice how beautiful she is. Her perfect her hair as blonde as the sun, and her eyes, a shade of green only the lucky ones are born with. Locke doesn’t answer my question, but kicks the horse for us to meet the woman sooner.

  “What is it, Farah?”

  Farah? The story from Ellie comes back to me and a knot tightens in my gut. This is Farah. Locke’s, in not so many words, girl.

  “Tis my home, please ye must come and help me. The piping has cracked and Mother cannot get it to stop. The house is being flooded.”

  I’m not sure why she needs Locke specifically. “Don’t you guys have a plumber you can call?” I don’t realize I even spoke out loud until they both turn to me. “Oh, I mean, I was just saying that most people have plumbers.” Great, now I look rude in front of her. Locke’s scowl is slowly growing back. Is he mad at me? I suddenly become agitated. Is he mad I was not nicer to his girlfriend?

  He jumps down from the horse and lifts his hand to escort me down. “Hurry, Locke, ye must come now,” Farah pleads again, wrapping her hand around his bicep, while he’s still holding onto mine. I pray that he tells her to find that damn plumber. He wouldn’t just leave me for her would he?

  “Adeline. Go up. I will go see what I can do for Farah. We will meet at lunch to finish our conversation.” As he practically dismisses me, Farah takes his hand and they walk off toward the village cottages.

  My heart sinks. I want to yell out that he can finish his discussion on his own, but I won’t release my lip, that I’m biting so hard, to expel any words. He didn’t promise you anything, Addie, the working part of my brain reminds me. My brain’s right. He didn’t. As I watch them until they are out of sight into her home, I turn with my head low.

  I go to kick a stone in my path and, “Ouch,” I whine as the stone doesn’t move at all, but my toe does. I lean down to massage the poor thing, when I hear footsteps coming my way. I lift my head hoping it’s Locke.

  “Ah, there ye are! The whole castle thinks ye have run off.” Christof approaches me. He’s wearing his typical attire. His dark slacks with his white shirt, covered by his slick coat.

  “Why, did you miss me?” I respond, at least happy to see his face.

  “I certainly did. Now that I know ye weren’t kidnapped by bandits or escaped our trudges.” He makes it to me, and as always, takes my hand, placing a kiss to my palm. “How are ye fairing today, milady? Would ye like to go for a walk?”

  I turn my head toward the direction of Farah’s home then sigh, turning back to Christof. “You know what? Yes, I would love that.” He offers his approval with a smile and tends to my arm, wrapping it around his. We walk for some time, without talking. He takes me into the berry fields, plucking a berry here and there, and placing them into my mouth.

  “These are very good. Much better than any berry I’ve had at home.”

  “Well, yes, it’s because we use a wee bit of magic in our crops,” he says, plucking a raspberry and placing it on my tongue.
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br />   “Magic? And how does magic make your berries taste better?” I ask unbelieving.

  “It’s simple. We crop with love. And love can be a magical thing.” He smiles, and I stare at him. Then I laugh. And laugh some more.

  “You are ridiculous, Christof MacCowen.”

  “Ahh yes, I have heard that before. So, how was yer night away? Did ye enjoy yerself?” he asks, mischievously. He knows I was with Locke, so he must be curious.

  “Well, it was amazing actually.” I shrug my shoulders. His eyebrows go up, fighting a smile. “Shut up. I know, that sounded really lame.”

  “No, I just didn’t know my brother had it in him. Then can I assume he broke? My work here is done?” I remember the fury in Locke as he questioned me about his brother. His anger thinking I had been with him. He didn’t want anyone else to have what was rightfully his.

  I match his smile. “I guess he did.”

  Christof picks me up and swings me. “Fantastic! So when is the wedding?” I’m giggling as he twirls me, finally placing me back down on my feet.

  Then my smile fades. “No wedding. I’m not sure what happened between us changes anything. There were no promises discussed.”

  “Oh my silly princess, if Locke shared himself with ye, that was his promise. Haven’t ye realized by now he is a man of few words? Plus, the sun was shining extra bright today. It’s a sign. It means our future king and queen have come together.” He looks at me, and I’m unsure if he is messing with me. I mean the sun did look particularly bright today.

  “You’re messing with me, right?”

  “That, I do not. The book knows. And when it knows, the kingdom knows.” That is ridiculous. I just roll my eyes at him. I go to swat at him, and he laughs, putting his hands up claiming truth.

  “So since you are off the hook, why don’t you spill who you’re in love with, Christof MacCowen of Wren? Maids talk. I know you’re not living like a monk,” I tease. He looks at me, testing the sincerity in my question.

 

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