Lord Grim's Witch (a medieval romance novelette) (7 page)

“Sheriff, we should stop,” she said, remembering Lord Grim could come upon them at any moment. While she felt no particular loyalty toward him since he hadn’t professed a loyalty or affection for her, still she feared his anger should she be caught so soon after sharing favors with him.

“Tibor. Call me Tibor,” he said, his hands aiding her movements, raising her up and forcing her down hard as his gaze remained on the place their sexes met. “Doesn’t seem appropriate for you to call me sheriff while you’re riding my staff.”

He made her smile. He had that gift—even when she fumed at his deplorable wit. She found it poignant, almost overwhelming, that his gift of humor might be snuffed out in the coming hours. Overtaken by a demon’s curse.

Her movements less tentative now, she slammed down to meet his upward thrusts and circled on him as Lord Grim had her, screwing him, trying to recreate the sensations that had taught her what the fullest ecstasy was—and then there it was, that bright, shining moment as she was thrust straight into the darkness.

Unable to do anything but gasp and moan, she collapsed over him as his body thrashed beneath hers, his awkward, disjointed strokes quickening until he erupted, spewing his essence into her body, shouting at the last moment.

Which awoke her to the realization they couldn’t possibly hide what had occurred between them. She lay down upon him, her thighs still spread around his hips, and hid her face against his chest.

His hands rubbed in soothing circles on her back. “Thank you, mistress.”

She murmured, her breaths sounding like little sobs, because she knew she’d made a mistake. Lord Grim and Tibor had opened up a whole new world of sensuality, and she didn’t know how she would go back to her staid, celibate life after this night was over. They’d made her want more from her life.

The door slammed open, and she twisted to glance over her shoulder. Lord Grim stood in the doorway, his dark gaze narrowing on the two lying abed, still joined.

Tibor remained silent beneath her, but his hand clasped her shoulder, holding her body to his.

She pushed against his chest. “You have to let me up.”

“Do you think he will hurt you?”

“He doesn’t look especially happy.”

Tibor smoothed back her hair where it stuck to the sweat on her cheek. “I think he is deciding whether to join us.” He lifted a brow and aimed his glance at Lord Grim, who heaved a sigh and began to shed his clothing.

“Must I brand her, so that you know who owns her?” Lord Grim growled.

“Would you truly mar this perfect skin?” Tibor said, caressing her backside.

Gisele shivered at the enticing thought that the two of them might lie with her. She held her breath as Lord Grim’s expression grew impossibly darker.

His clothes dropped to the floor. He was angry—he was also very aroused.

“You’re overdressed,” Tibor murmured and tugged her gown over her head, leaving her as naked as they were.

Gisele shivered as all was revealed to Lord Grim. His glance dropped to where her sex still swallowed Tibor’s cock and his jaw clenched. What would he do?

Perhaps there was something she could do to soothe his savage beast. “Let me up,” she begged.

Tibor’s hands fell away, and she rose, embarrassed by the succulent sounds her body made when she drew off his cock. Her belly jumping with nervous agitation, she made her way toward Lord Grim.

When she was within arm’s reach, he grasped the back of her head to hold her securely while his mouth slammed down on hers. She tasted his anger, felt it in the hardness of his lips as he ate her mouth, branding her lips with his fire.

His eyes remained open, accusing. She didn’t dare blink beneath his hard glare.

He tore his lips away and cursed, and then pushed her down his body, forcing her to kneel in front of his cock, which was rigid and pointed straight at her mouth.

Her eyes widened as she read his intent. She’d heard of the act, but hadn’t ever thought it might be a pleasant thing. But his hard glare brooked no arguments, so she bent closer, opened her mouth, and ran her tongue down his length.

His fingers tightened in her hair, and she could tell she had pleased him.

The sound of a throat clearing beside her drew her gaze to Tibor, who moved to stand next to Lord Grim. He leaned down and grabbed her hand and brought it to his cock, wrapping his fingers around hers. She hadn’t any choice but to squeeze him tightly.

Tibor lifted one sardonic brow to his master in challenge.

Lord Grim narrowed his eyes, but his lack of protest was something she took as assent, so she let Tibor guide her hand up and down his shaft as she resumed her exploration of their lord’s cock. She glided tongue and lips along his length, sucking softly, until he cursed again and guided her mouth over the tip of his rod.

He thrust into her mouth, gliding over her tongue until he butted against the back of her throat. She gagged, and he relented, withdrawing, only to glide back inside.

With one cock filling her mouth and another growing harder inside her tight grasp, Gisele’s own excitement rose swiftly, overtaking her again. She murmured a protest and drew back, shaking her head until Lord Grim released her hair. She stared up at him and leaned toward his friend and swallowed his cock all the way to the root.

Tibor gasped and his hips jerked, thrusting his cock deep into her mouth as she pumped her hand on Lord Grim’s now. She worked them both for a while, alternating between them until the scent of their warming, aroused bodies was too much to bear. She sat back on her heels and dragged harsh, ragged breaths into her lungs.

“Come,” Lord Grim said, holding out his hand to help her stand. Then he pulled her to the bed and lay down on it, tugging her down on top of him. “Take me inside you.”

Behind her, the mattress dipped and groaned as Tibor came down behind her, his body sliding against her back and his hands encircling her to cup her breasts. He kneaded the mounds, rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers until she thought she’d go mad.

Lord Grim’s hands closed on her hips and lifted her onto his cock, and she sank down on him, taking his great girth and length in easy lunges until her quim met the crisp hairs surrounding his sex.

“Lean over him,” Tibor whispered in her ear.

She did so, not questioning what he intended, knowing instinctively she would love whatever he would do.

When he reached beyond her for the crock of ointment, she watched fascinated as he swirled his fingers in it. They disappeared behind her back, a hand parted her buttocks, and Tibor smeared the ointment into the crease dividing her bottom.

She tightened her cunt around Lord Grim’s cock, understanding now what Tibor intended. “Oh, God,” she sobbed as fingers slipped inside her dark entrance.

Unable to hold back, she pumped forward and back on her lord’s cock, while Tibor eased inside her. The ointment blunted the pain, but when his cock replaced his fingers, she stilled, not believing she would be able to take him there.

Her entire body trembled, and she sobbed, so close to ecstasy her body tightened and spasmed.

When Tibor thrust deep, she screamed, suspended by Lord Grim’s hands bracing her shoulders and Tibor’s thick, strong cock stroking into her arse. The men murmured their approval in low, rasping voices, praising her courage and her beauty, until her body exploded with delight.

As Lord Grim eased her to his chest, she heard him say softly, as though from a great distance, “If this isn’t your last day on Earth, I’ll kill you myself, Tibor.”

*

“What will you
do with the woman?” Tibor asked, stretching his legs in front of him as he rested with his back against the packed, earthen wall of the dungeon.

From the opposite side of the bars, Geoffrey rubbed a tired hand over his face and shot him an aggravated glance. “What can I do? I cannot wed her.”

The sheriff nestled his back against the wall as if seeking a more comfortable position. “I can,” he drawled.

Geoffrey’s hands clenched as he imagined choking the life from his friend. The full moon had come and gone, and his friend remained his mischievous self—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be in deeper trouble.

“Think about it, Geoff. We could share her.”

“Do you really think she would agree to such a notion?” he growled.

“She is a woman with a mind of her own. She will have to be brought around to the idea.”

Marriage with the lovely, sensual witch was out of the question, however he might desire it. Any alliance he made would be for expedience sake and the good of Grimoult and his other holdings. But the prospect of taking another woman to wife held little joy for him.

However, he already knew he could never let Gisele go.

“I’ve brought you water for a bath and fresh clothing,” a soft voice said from behind him.

Geoffrey’s body hardened instantly. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know your sheriff is incorrigible—but I already knew that.”

Geoffrey remained seated and watched as she drew closer and passed a bundle through the bars of Tibor’s prison. The fact they was able to hold this awkward conversation at all was due to her skill and devotion. “I’m grateful to you, Gisele.”

Her head turned, and her steady gaze locked with his. “Do you care for me, milord?”

Direct as always, she possessed an admirable courage. “I believe I will come to love you, mistress.”

“And what are your feelings, Sheriff?” she asked, spearing Tibor with a challenging gaze.

Tibor snorted, and the corners of his mouth curved. “My cock aches, and I’m sure there isn’t another woman in all of Grimoult who can relieve it. I am in dire need of your curative powers.”

Gisele took a seat beside Lord Grim in the gloomy chamber, carefully tucking her skirts beneath his knees. With her gaze on her lap, she whispered, “I’ve lived alone for a very long time—outside the fold. I thought I was content.”

Geoffrey cupped her small chin in his palm. “And now?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know I was lonely. Not until you both accepted me within the circle of your friendship. If you wish to share me, I’ll be honored to accept.”

Something warm and painful lodged inside his chest. “Then you must marry Tibor. I will not allow you to live in shame should you bear a child.”

He reached out to wrap an arm around her shoulder and brought her close to his side. She rested her head against him. He kissed her hair.

“Now that we’ve planned my wedding, do you think you could release me from this cell?” Tibor said, his lips stretching into a mischievous grin.

Geoffrey rose and lifted Gisele into his arms. “And miss an opportunity to have her all to myself?”

Gisele smiled up at him and gave Tibor a fluttering wave of her fingers. “We’ll send the steward down in a while with the keys.”

“Ballocks! Don’t you think I’ll be so agreeable after we are wed, mistress.”

Her smile widened. “Tibor, I knew you wouldn’t die last night. The scratches never pierced your skin.”

Tibor’s mouth gaped, and Geoffrey laughed so hard he shook the woman clutching his shoulders. “And we thought we were leading you into temptation.”

With a deep sigh, she settled into his embrace. “My mother always told me to begin as you wish to proceed. I knew what I wanted from the outset of this adventure.”

“Two lovers?”

Her smile slipped. “Love. Acceptance. I’m content with what we have.”

His voice roughened. “Gisele, I will never let you harbor any regrets.”

“Sire, I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“What about me?” Tibor asked, a petulant note in his voice.

Gisele’s gaze narrowed with determination “You, sir, shall have a very short leash!”

Delilah Devlin is a
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bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred fifty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Kindle, Kindle Worlds, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.

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Sm{B}itten

Truly, Madly…Deadly

Knight in Transition

Wolf in Plain Sight

(read Chapter One below)

M
ax Pushed Through
the door of the bar determined that tonight he’d either get shit-faced or fucked. Which, didn’t matter. So long as he could blow off the steam that had been gathering a head since the botched mission hours before. The bar was a regular haunt—only a block from his house. If need be, he could crawl home. The smoky air, the loud grinding music, and the smell of stale beer appealed when he had an axe to grind.