by Wendy Vella
“It’s all right, come away now, Max. Your stitches—”
“She’s a witch, everyone knows it!”
The man had blood pouring from his nose, but still glared defiantly up at Max.
“She’s a bloody angel!”
“My wife can’t give me children, and I blame her!” The man pointed at Essie, who was now at his side.
Max dragged the man to his feet by the neck of his shirt and shook him hard.
“You’re an idiot if you believe that! Go home and treat your wife better, and do as Miss Sinclair says. Only then may you be blessed with a child.”
“I’ll not do it!”
“Then rot in hell for all I care,” Max snarled. “But if word ever reaches me that you have so much as raised your voice to her again, I’m hunting you down, and there will be nowhere for you to hide.”
Before Max could strike him again, the man shook himself free and ran. Myrtle followed, barking loudly.
“Myrtle, come here!” Max roared, following the man to ensure he left the property. He did not want the dog to get a boot to the head.
“Max, stop now. Please.”
It was her “please” that stopped him. The word held desperation. Turning, he looked down into Essie’s face. Worry had drained it of color, and her eyes were damp with tears she fought to hold back.
“Did he hurt you?” He cupped her cheek, her unshed tears affecting him more than they should. “Tell me!”
“He did not hurt me, I promise.”
“Don’t cry.”
She sniffed loudly. “I’m not going to.”
As the anger began to drain from his body, he felt the pain return. Swift and searing as fiery pokers, it stabbed into his side, taking his breath.
“Christ!”
“Bertie, take his other side.” Essex moved to his left and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“You will not be able to hold me if I fall.”
“I’m stronger than I look.”
“Come now, Max.” Bertie took his other side, careful to stay away from his wound.
“I can walk,” Max muttered
She said nothing further as they reached his room. She silently helped lay him on the bed, and then checked his wound. He had not pulled the stitches, surprisingly. She left, and returned minutes later with a cup.
“Drink this, it will help with the pain.”
“I need nothing.”
She lifted the cup to his mouth, and he would end up with it all over him if he didn’t open. He knew the determined look she wore.
“Essie, about—”
“Thank you for defending me.” She had not met his eyes yet.
“Look at me.”
Instead she went to pat her dog, who was once again at the foot of his bed.
“And now I must go, Max.”
“Where?” He reached out to grab her, but she had stepped from his reach.
“I shall send Bertie in with your meal.”
“Essie!” he called to her as she left the room, but she didn’t stop, just kept on walking, leaving him alone again with his thoughts.
Max slept, as whatever she had given him had insured that. He felt better upon waking, and felt his strength was returning. He would be able to leave here soon. Could ride a horse if necessary, and knew that it was fast becoming imperative that he put some distance between him and Essex.
She was becoming a fixation. Far more alluring than any well-dressed lady of London, she touched him in places he was sure no woman had ever reached before.
She had infiltrated him, broken through his barricades and found the raw places. The places he wanted her to soothe.
Climbing out of bed, he made for the windows. Darkness had long since fallen, but he still felt it, Raven Mountain looming over him like a menacing shadow.
This whole place unsettled him. The mountain, the people. He had the strange feeling he was meant to come here, and could not work out why.
“Max?”
He turned to find Essex in the doorway, holding a candle. She wore a dressing gown and slippers, and had obviously been roused from sleep, as her hair was tousled and her eyes still unfocused. Sweet, he thought, achingly sweet. Max felt his body stir in reaction to the picture she presented.
“Are you all right, Essex?” He made himself stay where he was and not go to her, which his body was begging him to do.
“I-I…. Did you call out to me? I thought I heard you.”
“No.”
“Are you hurting?” Lowering the candle to a chair, she took a step toward him. “I can take a look at your side, and make you something if need be.”
His feet moved before he could stop them, and seconds later he was at her side.
“I am in no pain.”
“Oh. Well then, I shall return to my bed.”
Max cupped her cheek when she made no move to leave.
“You need to go now, sweet Essex. Leave me before I do what my body is yelling at me to do.”
She swayed toward him, one of her hands resting on the bare skin of his chest through the open shirt. Her touch made him shudder.
“Wh-what do you want to do?”
“To take you,” he whispered. “Lose myself in your body, as I have wanted to since I woke with you in my arms.”
She did not pull back, and her eyes were clear now. But Max saw no fear, only a need that matched his own.
“Go back to your room.” His words brushed her lips. “Hell, Essex, I’m begging you to go back to your room.” The words were wrenched from Max. “I have no willpower around you.”
“I don’t want to leave. I want you too. Want this need inside me to be extinguished. I’ve never felt this way before, never experienced such passion for a man.”
Christ, he was shaking like some innocent youth about to make love for the first time.
“I-I have no right to ask this of you, Essie, as I have nothing to give you. I can make you no promises beyond tonight.”
Her eyes held his, open and honest. She did not look away or behave coy.
“I want this, to lie with you. Beyond that I ask for nothing, either, as I have no wish to marry. What I want is to experience what can be between a man and woman.”
“Last chance,” he rasped, cupping both her cheeks.
She rose to her toes and kissed him. The touch was fleeting and innocent, and beast that he was, he would take what she offered. Seizing control of the kiss, he teased her lips with gentle caresses that eased the tension from her spine and had her clinging to him in seconds.
“Open for me, Essex.”
His tongue slipped inside to caress hers, and Max’s head spun. Just kissing her was causing a frenzy inside him.
He undid the tie at her waist and pushed off her dressing gown, then worked the ribbons at the back of her night shift loose. Sliding a hand inside the opening he had created, he caressed her back. Her skin was warm and silken to touch, and he wanted more.
“You inflame me.”
He tasted her sigh as his hand swept the swells of her bottom and up the line of her back, stroking each knuckle on her spine with infinite care. Stepping back, he looked at her.
“Take it off for me, Essie.”
She didn’t hesitate at the husky command; she reached for the hem and dragged it up her body and over her head.
“Sweet Christ, you’re exquisite,” Max whispered, his gaze devouring what she had uncovered. Candlelight only enhanced her beauty. She was a vision of lush curves and pale satin skin. He pushed a handful of hair over her shoulder, then ran his fingers down her chest to cup the fullness of a breast.
“Look at me, Essie,” Max whispered. She lifted her eyes to his. “Tell me you see your beauty as I do.”
“Max, it’s all right, you have no need to speak that way.”
Taking her hand, he led her to the mirror. Placing Essie in front of him, he gathered her hair and draped it over her shoulders, exposing her to their eyes.
“Th
is,” he said, caressing the side of her face, “is perfection. I have travelled thousands of miles and not once have I seen the color of your eyes in another, or the sensual curve of your lips.”
She watched his hand as it traced her lips.
“I do not like to look at myself like this.”
Max held her still as she tried to turn away. “Let me show you what I see, Essie. Please.”
“The others in my family….” She turned her face away from the mirror. “They are so much more than I am.” She whispered the words, and he knew they caused her pain.
“I don’t believe that.” He turned her face back to the mirror. “No one could be so much more than you. Your skin is sun-kissed, unlike the other pallid ladies of society. Smooth as silk,” he whispered into her ear. “I long to worship every inch.”
Max trailed his fingers down her arm and over her stomach, and her eyes followed.
“When I woke with you in my arms my first morning here, I watched you for minutes while you slept. You looked like an angel... my angel. The neck of your chemise had swept low, and I could see this.” He stroked her ribs as he moved upward to cup a breast. Max looked at the scar that ran along the length of his hand. It appeared big and brutish against her soft, unblemished skin.
“Feel what you do to me, Essie.” Max groaned, placing a hand on her stomach to pull her back against him.
“I-I feel it,” she gasped as he pressed his hard arousal into the curve of her buttocks. Max knew that, unlike other innocent woman, Essie had experience of the body. She’d tended many conditions, and knew what people looked like without their clothes. She was not embarrassed or shy.
“You do this to me, Essie.”
“Max, I-I— These feelings....”
“I won’t let you hide from me, Essie. I will not allow you to hide what you are feeling here in this room from me.”
“What of you, are you hiding things from me?”
He held her eyes. He had lied, and he was hiding things from her, but not this. Not what he felt being here in this room with her.
“What I feel for you here in this room, here at Oak’s Knoll, I am not hiding from,” Max said, and it was all he could give her for now. He prayed it was enough.
“We barely know each other, and yet I want to be with you,” she whispered, placing her hand on top of his where it sat on her hipbone. “I am not afraid of you, or this, Max.”
Max kissed the side of her neck, tasting the sweet nectar of this woman. Moving his fingers inward, he parted the soft folds between her thighs.
“Look at my hands on your lovely body, Essex.”
“I’m looking.” Her head fell back onto his chest.
“Let me love you now.”
“Yessss,” she hissed as the tip of one finger stroked the hard bud between her thighs, making her shudder.
“Tell me you’re beautiful.” How could she not see what he did? Were all the men she encountered fools, to not see her beauty?
“Yes, Max, you make me beautiful.”
“I can wait no longer, Essie, I need you now.”
“Then take me,” she urged, turning in his arms to wind her own around his neck. “Kiss me, Max.”
Chapter Six
Both were breathless in seconds as their kisses grew fiercer. Slowly they moved backward as one, until Essie felt her thighs touch the bed.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Max. Your injury… we must go carefully.”
“You could never hurt me.”
“But—”
He pressed his fingers to her lips. “I want this… I want you, Essie.”
“Will you let me take off the shirt then, let me touch you, Max?”
“No... I—”
“I’ve seen the marks on your back. I hate that you suffered to get them, but they are part of you,” she whispered. “Let me touch you.”
“I-I want that, but no one has ever touched me there before.”
Essie heard the vulnerability in his voice. She would not touch him there tonight if that was his wish. But next time… if there was to be another. He would trust her enough to allow that intimacy, she vowed.
“Let me help you take off your shirt.” Her fingers were unsteady, yet they never faltered as she pulled the hem over his head.
“Last night when I saw you, and took off your clothes, I remember thinking you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen. A warrior,” Essie whispered, running a hand down his chest, carefully avoiding the bandage. “I thought you looked like a lion. Fierce and proud. Your eyes glinted gold in the firelight.”
“No one has ever called me beautiful.” His laugh was unsteady as she reached the opening of his breeches.
“You are beautiful. A beautiful lion,” Essie whispered. She kissed his chest, her touch causing him to inhale.
She felt different suddenly, emboldened by the beauty he saw in her. Essie wanted this... wanted more. For the first time in so long, she was certain of something. She wanted this man, and tonight she would take him and have no regrets, just as he would take her.
Reaching for his breeches, she undid the button, and ran her hand over his stomach. It was flat and hard; she found no spare flesh. Her fingers brushed the tip of his erection, and the breath hissed in his throat.
“You know the male body well, Essie, and yet I think this, what we are about to do, is new for you?”
“It is, and yet I would not want to be anywhere else. This, being here with you, Max, it feels right.”
She saw a flash of doubt on his face.
“I care nothing for what you have or don’t have. Possessions, wealth, and property mean very little to me.” Essie touched his cheek, making him look at her. “Forget about what lies outside the door awaiting us.”
His hand was in her hair, and with a gentle tug her head fell back, and he was kissing her once more. Essie lost the ability to think; she could only feel. His hand was on her body, tracing each curve and cupping her breasts. His fingers stroked her nipples and sent ripples of pleasure through her.
She felt his hot breath on her neck, and then lower, until he was licking one of her breasts.
“Oh” was all she could manage as he took one of her nipples into his mouth. His hands continued to touch her, stroke the secret place between her legs, and all Essie could do was hold on as the tension inside her escalated.
“Max!” Her body spiraled tighter as he pushed a finger inside her. It was exquisite, and she shuddered as pleasure swamped her.
“Christ, you are beautiful,” he whispered against her lips as he eased her back onto the bed. “And I want you very much, Essex.”
“I want you,” she whispered. Her hands pushed his breeches down his thighs. Essie was not afraid of the human body; she had seen it in many different forms. Max had a beautiful body, so powerful and strong.
“God!” He threw back his head as she touched the hot flesh of his arousal. She trailed her fingers up and down the skin, and then wrapped a hand about it and stroked him.
“Sweet Christ, that’s good.” His hands cupped her face and tilted it upward. She saw the savage expression, but felt no fear. Max would not hurt her. His hands circled hers and eased them away from his body.
“Trust me, Essie.”
“I-I do.”
Starting at her neck, he began to kiss his way down her body, and by the time he reached her stomach, Essie was writhing, her fingers clenching handfuls of the covers. Lifting one of her legs, he kissed the inside of her thigh.
“Max?”
“Just feel, Essie.”
She felt his breath there. The hot sweep of his tongue and warmth of his breath, and then she could think no more as sensation after sensation swept through her. The pressure was exquisite, and then he eased a finger inside her once more, and she shattered for a second time.
“You must take me inside you, sweetheart. My injury will not allow me to brace myself on my arms too long.” He urged her to her feet, then sat on the side of t
he bed and pulled her onto his thighs, her legs straddling his. Cupping her face, Max kissed her, and then lay back on the bed.
“Lift up on your knees.”
She did as he ordered, and felt him pressing at her entrance. Easing down, Essie felt him slowly enter her, stretching her wider. Silken muscles clenched as he stroked forward. There was discomfort, but also wonder. So this is what happens.
“God, you feel good, Essie.”
She felt his hands on her waist as he met her maidenhead, then he took control and pushed through, pulling her down onto his chest as she cried out at the pain.
“Sssh, sweetheart, it will ease,” he soothed.
The feeling was unusual, and yes there was discomfort, but there was also pleasure that she was now joined to this man. His hands were stroking her back as she listened to the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear.
“Sit up now, Essie.”
She did as he asked, and then he was lifting her hips, easing her slowly up his arousal, and then back down. The silken glide of his flesh inside her stirred her body to life once more. Max gritted his jaw as his hips drove up to meet hers as she came down. His hands cupped her breasts, and Essie came down harder and faster, eager to reach that pinnacle she had found before.
Max’s hoarse cry met Essie’s as she threw back her head; together they flew over the edge.
Breathless, Max wrapped his arms around Essie and held her close to his chest. He felt the brush of her breath on his shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. He wondered what had just happened, how an innocent had made him feel something no other before her had managed. For the first time in his life he’d lost control, felt lust so powerful he had been beyond reason. She had touched his back, touched the welts that had been inflicted on him as a child, and he had not shuddered. What did that mean? How was it possible that this woman had come to mean so much to him in such a short time? The panic began in the pit of his stomach.
“Max?”
“It’s all right, Essie,” he soothed, easing the grip he had on her hair.
“What’s your name, Max?”
“You know my name,” he said, trying to control of himself. She deserved to know more, but he could not tell her... not now, after what they had shared. He had deceived her by withholding information he should have shared. Guilt settled on his shoulders.