I lifted my head out of the water, and felt a scream catch in my throat. On the edge of the lagoon stood a man, clothed in only a tunic and black trousers. A heavy sword hung from a scabbard around his waist. He was watching me.
The Goddess works fast.
I shut my eyes and opened them again. He was still there. A man – a real man – stood before me in the sacred grove.
My spell brought him here. I can perform magic after all!
And what magic it was. I licked my lips as I regarded my gift from the Goddess. He was more handsome then I ever could have wished. Tall, with long hair as black as night, held back from his face with plaits and leather thongs. Beneath his thin tunic, his shoulders bulged – a man didn't get muscles like that working in the village. He was a warrior. The skin on his arms was rough, criss-crossed with the white scars of battle. He had shaved recently, and a thin line of stubble darkened his square, proud jaw. A smattering of black hair ran across his chest, leading in a dark line from his belly button down, down below his leather sword belt. He wore dark trousers and thick leather boots, and leather braces encircled his forearms.
Our eyes met, and he did not look away. His sharp features betrayed nothing, just high cheekbones framing a smouldering gaze. This was the man the Goddess has chosen for me? I could hardly believe my good fortune.
"Why have you come here?" I managed to choke out.
He did not answer.
Mesmerised, I rolled on to my stomach and drifted across the water toward him. A water-skin, half filled, bobbed in the pool in front of him. The sun caught the glint of metal on the rocks beside him – he had laid aside a dagger. His sheathed sword swung menacingly at his side. He was a warrior. I would have a warrior. Wait until Rebekah hears about this-
"Have you come for me?"
Again, the man said nothing. I stopped a few feet from him, unsettled by his silence and that stony, unfaltering gaze. I drew up in the shallow water, my full height only reaching his broad shoulders, revealing the full length of my nakedness. That disarmed him at last, and he glanced away, stepping back across the rocks.
"Have you come for me?" I asked again, suddenly feeling very exposed and nervous.
The man took another step back, glancing at me and looking away again. "You must … clothe yourself, woman."
"Why?" I felt confused. Being naked was an important part of the ritual. "Do I not please you?"
"You …" he turned toward me again, and this time his gaze fell on the two sigils above my breasts. They hadn't completely washed away in the water. He seemed to trace the design in the air with his pupils. "You are … I know what you are. You are a vision come to tempt me from the path of righteousness."
"I am no vision. I am yours." What is happening? Why does he not want me? I tried to fight the tears that clutched at the corners of my eyes. Why can I not even convince this man, whom the Goddess has given me, to lay with me?
The man nodded, still not meeting my gaze. When he spoke again, his voice was tinged with sadness. "Yes, you are mine. But I am a servant of Death. Knowing me could be your doom."
I took a step back, more unsure than ever. At the mention of death, I remembered my dream from the night before. Was it predicting this man? Is this how it is supposed to go? Goddess, help me understand what to do next.
"I don't understand." My heel caught the edge of a rock, and I staggered forward to regain my balance. Warm, rough hands grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me upright. I stood, panting, gazing up at him. His eyes bore into mine, deep pools of brown with a flicker of orange flame around the iris. The eyes of a fire god.
The warrior broke his gaze and scanned the horizon, his eyes darting from tree to tree before focusing intently on the rock ledge above the waterfall.
"It is safe here," I said. "The nearest village is a day’s hike from the grove. This is why I have come–"
He held his finger to his lips. "You're not safe here," he whispered. "Not while you're with me."
I did not know what to say, or if I should say anything at all. He could break me in two with his bare hands. His gaze was so hard, so cruel. Were the men the Goddess sent always this fearsome? Is it some kind of test? His grip against my shoulder tightened, his fingers digging into my skin. I whimpered.
"You are beautiful," he whispered. He said it with venom, as though it were an accusation. He released my shoulder and raised his hand toward me. I sucked in a breath, half expecting him to slap me, but instead he stroked the edge of my breast, just above my nipple.
My reaction to that simple touch surprised me. Far from frightening me, when he touched my skin it sent a shiver through me, as if every hair on my body stood on end. My stomach contracted at his touch, and my nipple swelled before him. He stroked it again, and my stomach clenched further, my skin like fire beneath his finger. I let out a low moan.
The warrior leaned forward, so close that I could feel the warmth of his body across my cool skin, even though we did not touch. His smell invaded my nostrils – a hearty scent of horse and smoke and sweat and something much darker and forbidden.
He leaner closer, closer … and brushed his lips lightly against mine. The touch sent a jolt through my whole body, and I felt light, as though I might float away. He brushed my lips once more, and before I could cry out, he pressed himself against me, the warmth of his chest burning against mine, and devoured my mouth in his.
He cupped my chin with his free hand and pulled me to him. His tongue parted my lips and probed inside, and I bent up eagerly, enjoying the sensation of our tongues dancing together. His taste was fresh, clean, not reeking of alcohol like the other men in the village.
As his kiss deepened, the fire rushed through me, flames licking at my limbs, dancing over my face. The heat inside me burned, threatening to devour me.
I reached down, my fingers fumbling with the clasp on his belt. He pushed my hand roughly away, and undid it himself, tossing down his scabbard and stepping out of his trousers even as he continued to probe my mouth with his tongue.
His hand still stroked my bare nipple, teasing and stroking it. Suddenly, with his mouth clamped against mine, he pinched my nipple between his fingers and twisted it. The sharp pain made me cry out, and I bit against his tongue.
He pushed me backwards, lips still clamped over mine, till we waded together into the water. The icy coolness did nothing to soothe the heat that ran through my body. The warrior pinched my nipple again, but the pain only made me want him more.
When we had waded out to our waists, he pushed me gently back into the water, the wetness washing over my body, causing a shiver of delight to ripple through me as it met with the hot fire building within. I spread my arms out and beckoned him. But instead, he pushed me away from him.
For a moment, I panicked, thinking he had rejected me. But it was not so. With one hand he grabbed my thigh and pulled my legs apart. With deft fingers he spread apart my lips and ran his fingers over my slit, dragging them along my wetness. His touch was exquisite. I had never experienced anything like this before. It was as though every fibre of me rose up to meet him, my body undulating beneath him like a flower opening in spring.
He stroked his fingers over me, slowly at first, but then faster, with a fevered urgency. My whole body began to respond. It was like a great pressure building between my legs, claiming every limb, every orifice as it spread throughout my body. The water lapped over me, adding a different kind of sensation.
The pressure of his touch increased, and the warrior drummed and twisted his fingers against me, pulling at the little bud he had raised up, the place from which all the sensations seemed to emanate. The cool water lapped against my skin, entering my slit, each ripple like an extension of his caress. I pushed myself toward him, wanting something … I didn't know what. I wanted something inside me with more substance than water.
The muscles in my legs clamped up as some strange force overpowered them. I tried to pull them together, anything to stop the moun
ting panic and ecstasy that welled up inside me. But the warrior pushed them back apart again, clamping my bud between two fingers and squeezing. The pain shocked me, but it did nothing to ease my longing.
He dug a finger inside of me, pushing it up into my warm folds. Another loud moan escaped me. The man took his second finger and thrust that in beside the first. His touch sent fire through my limbs, and I struggled for breath as my head went under the water.
As I lifted my head up again, he pulled his fingers away, and I cried out in protest. Instead, he bent down and buried his face in my triangle, his tongue stroking purposefully, first down one lip, then the other, then dancing over my bud. The warmth of his tongue mingling with the cool water as he swirled it around sent flames of delight through my body. In my belly, a great fire bubbled and fizzed, threatening to burst into flames, to burn me alive.
I strained myself against him, and as his tongue furiously circled that little bud, the fire consumed me. I cried out as great convulsions tore through me, and I lost control of my limbs, my body flopping against the water, flailing as I fought against this new sensation. My head went under the water again, but I felt nothing. I floated on a river of flame, an ocean of exquisite fire.
Slowly, the heat left me, the cooling water extinguishing the searing in my veins. Exhausted, I lay back in the water, my whole body feeling as light as air. The man let go of me, and I floated gently away.
The warrior bent over me, his handsome face a silhouette against the grey sky. He grabbed my legs and pulled me back. "I'm not finished with you yet," he whispered in my ear.
He rolled me over on to my stomach, wrapped one muscular arm around my shoulders and pulled me up against his body, lowering me down upon his member. My whole body quivered with longing for him. I opened my legs wider to ease his passage. A brief flicker of worry flared in my mind. Will this hurt? The girls in the village all say it hurts-
With one thrust, the warrior entered me and pushed himself through my hymen, sending a searing pain through my torso. It felt like he was cutting me, as if he stabbed his blade within me instead of his cock. I whimpered.
He pulled out of me, pressing his lips against the back of my neck, his kiss searing my skin. "I'll be gentle," he murmured against my skin, as he dug his fingers deeper into my hips, and pushed himself inside me again.
A few more painful strokes, and the pain gave way to a warm, pleasurable fullness. His thick shaft filled me completely, a missing piece of me that had found its way home. The man began to increase his speed, heaving and thrusting against me. Gasping against the power of his thrust, I sank against him, arching my back and pushing my pelvis up to meet him.
He clasped me tight against his body, his strong hands lifting me up and out of the water. I turned my head over his shoulder and his lips met mine, his tongue pummelling mine, hungry and ferocious.
He ran his fingers across my back, the hairs on my back rising against his touch. He buried his head in my shoulder, biting the soft skin near my clavicle. The sharp pain sent another rush through my body, and I could feel the pleasure rising within me again. My cheek brushed against his rough chin, and he bit down harder. I cried out as another wave of ecstasy hit me, and he cried out too, thrusting into me with such force I thought he might split me in two.
I rode that wave of pleasure as the fire from within me torched every limb, consuming me, blinding me. I rose out of myself, so I seemed to view the scene from somewhere above me – a woman sprawled in the water, her face serene as a powerful man shuddered above her, releasing the last of his seed into her welcoming body.
This is one powerful spell.
I returned to my body, my limbs slack and tingling. Panting, the warrior lay over me, his body pressed hard against mine. After a few moments, he withdrew, climbing up onto the bank and reaching for his discarded clothing. I continued to float, rolling onto my back and staring up at him, up at the sky.
Ulrich
What have I done?
I stared down at the woman. Her perfect, naked figure stretched out across the water, her limbs slack with the pleasure I’d given her. My stomach churned with rage. Rage at myself. I couldn’t believe I had just done this.
I glanced up, desperate to look away, to look anywhere apart from the beautiful siren before me, her every movement clouding my thoughts, pushing me away from reason. Here in the grove the trees were thinner, and I could see a patch of sky peeking through. Angry grey clouds crept in at the edges, and the air started to cool rapidly.
Wonderful. Even the weather was against me.
"A storm is coming," I said, pointing up at the black clouds. She glanced up too, tilting her chin toward the sky, elongating her swan-like neck. Why did she have to be so beautiful?
Why, why did it have to be so good?
I brushed a strand of hair away from my face, feeling heat creep through my cheeks. She had some smudges of dirt across her chest, and I longed to brush those away too, and caress her soft skin once more. This won’t do. I’d already compromised myself. I needed to get away, before I compounded my stupidity.
"I must be going," I tore my eyes away from her, and waded out of the water. My trousers and boots were crumpled in a heap on the edge of the pool, where I’d left them. Not even waiting for the air to dry my skin, I tugged them on.
"Please stay with me."
I couldn’t trust myself to turn around. Already my cock was brushing against the inside of my leg. How are you ready again so soon? I angrily lashed out at myself in my mind. You know you cannot do this. You know what a risk it is. I faced a white oak tree and pulled my tunic over my head. I tried to think of something unsexy, like mangled, plague-ridden bodies, or Tjard - my plump Löwe, my assistant - dancing naked, his skin flushed with drink.
"Please? I have a home in the forest. I will feed you and you can keep warm by the hearth–"
That sounds so good. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I resisted. I shook my head, and picked up my sword. The blade felt heavy in my hands, as if reminding me of the grisly duty upon my head. The blade was carved in one of the bishop’s armouries, and bore a delicate engraving of Christ’s Crucifixion, a fitting reminder to my victims of the authority under which I worked. Sighing, I wrapped the leather belt around my waist. My hands trembled as I tied the belt and adjusted the scabbard.
"What's wrong?" Her voice was pleading. I could hear her moving closer, sliding her gorgeous body across the surface of the water. “Did I not please you? Was this not how it should be? You must understand, it was my first time. I'm sure next time it will be better–"
"There can be no next time," I said. I tried to sound harsh, final. But the words came out as a whisper. "Not even for someone as remarkable as you."
"What do you mean?"
"You are like a dream," I said, still not daring to face her. I feared that if I did, I would lose my composure. "An angel." But I know you are not from heaven, but from the dark places. You are a woman, and because of that, I can’t trust you. Especially not now, when my freedom looms so close.
"Angels don’t do … what we just did."
I laughed, bitterly. She stepped onto the dirt of the bank, and clasped my shoulder, her fingers like fire against my skin. I couldn’t help myself. I turned again, my eyes locked on her emerald orbs. She reached up with those fire fingers and touched my face. The skin tingled where her fingers caressed my cheek. A deep crimson marked her cheeks.
"Why do you blush?” I said the words harshly, hoping to scare her off. “You say you are a virgin, but I can hardly believe it. You must have this effect on every man you meet."
"What effect? I don't understand."
She’s toying with you, my father’s voice screamed inside my head. She is a woman, and all women are the same. Her only goal is to ensnare you and control you. But she sounded so sincere, so confused. Despite the protests screaming in my head, I placed my hand over my chest. "It feels as if a drunk warrior is standing on my chest, and has
fallen asleep. And as much as I fight him, I can't get him off. It feels as if I am powerless against you."
The siren brushed her fingers against the hilt of my sword, her eyes boring into mine. "I do not believe a man like you would ever be powerless."
Get away from her, now. My father roared. But I ignored him. My blood boiled in my veins, and my cock pressed against my breeches, once again hard and craving her delicious flesh. "I was riding through the wood, and I heard a woman singing. I thought I had imagined it, but then I rode along the ridge and saw you swimming. I was overcome with the feeling that I had to find you. I needed to have you.” I gave her a smile that I suspected was at least as frightening as it was sincere. “I'm used to getting what I want."
If she saw anything sinister in my face, she ignored it. Instead, she smiled back at me, all sweetness and light. "And so you did."
My blood was a river of fire. My heart throbbed in my ears. I grabbed her neck and wrenched her head forward, so that our noses were practically touching. My breath came out in short, quick bursts.
Her green eyes bore into mine, flashing first with fear, but then with something else. Defiance? Desire? Curiosity? Our faces were so close I could feel her breath against my lips. Inside my trousers, my cock bounced, begging to be set free upon her lush body once more.
"You must forget me.” I hissed. “I am not a man who should be remembered."
“How could I forget you, when you have brought me such pleasure?” Her words came out breathy, forced. I realised I was holding her too tight around the throat, my fingers digging in to her soft skin. I loosened my grip, momentarily horrified that I had inflicted such pain.
You inflict pain all the time, and you enjoy it. This is nothing. It is better that she should see the real you. That way, she won’t try to follow you.
"You must," I whispered, tightening my grip around her once more. "You must forget this day ever happened, or it will be your death, and mine."
Witch Hunter: dark medieval paranormal romance (Witches of the Woods Book 1) Page 3