Otherworldly Discipline: A Witch's Lesson (15 page)

“Because there was a creeping osolat underneath my window. And then I thought I saw a creeper on my ceiling, and then—”

He put his hand over his eyes. “There’s no creatures like that in this entire realm. And if there were, they wouldn’t get in here
.
”

“They did live in the realm for a long time—until just five centuries ago! But this is their natural habitat. And I truly doubt a dark defense spell or a creature protection is quite enough to keep them out!”

How does she know all that
?
“Where did you get all these paranoid concepts?” he asked, trying to pry her off of his body. The more he tried, the tighter she seemed to cling.

“A book of Ashcroft’s,” she replied simply.

“Jesus, Charlotte. Go back to your room!” he hissed. “Stop being insane.” He heard her sniffle, and immediately slumped his shoulders, feeling his resolve softening. He groaned and put his arms around her, giving her a comforting hug. “Alright. Fine, then. You can stay,” he promised. “
As long as you g
et your index fingers out of my ribcage.” He stroked her hair out of her face.

She unwrapped her arms from him, but she still pressed herself into him. “Really? I can stay?”

“You’re out of here at first light,” he added. “But yes, if you’re that adamant.
Just
don’t get used to this.” He pointed his finger in his face to illustrate that he was threatening her. “No funny business,” he added, laying back down into his pillow.

“Funny business?” she echoed with a sniff. But then she grinned and readjusted herself close to Moriarty’s long body. “Thank you, Moriarty.”

“Don’t speak of it,” he replied with a sigh. “And I mean
ever
.” But she was already asleep. Before he could even count to five, so was he.

*
*
*

“Damn Charlotte,” Ashcroft hissed, finally sinking into an ice bath. He’d already spent with his hand twice, and sleep still wouldn’t come because of the erection that just wouldn’t quit. He almost didn’t blame it. After all, what had happened with Charlotte was stuff dreams were made of. Sexy underwear, innocence, submission, and the fact that she wanted
his touch.

It had seemed impossible that she wanted him to touch her. After all, his severely scarred face had warded off hundreds of women in the past. But Charlotte had ached for him, despite what she’d said earlier.

And now he ached.

Climbing out of the tub eventually, he groaned as the first beam of sunlight shown through the window at him, lighting his path. He dressed for the day and then paced in his room for a long moment before he opened the door that adjoined to Charlotte’s room, just to look in on her. Just to see her face, remember how innocent it was.

But she wasn’t there.

He walked closer to her bed to confirm, looking at the sheets that were tussled around as if she
had tossed and turned restlessly
. Now, she was gone. He left the room and went down to the study to look for her. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t in the dining room. She wasn’t in the garden.

Dread tightened his throat. Moriarty wouldn’t. Would he? No. He’d spent with the
Earthside
trollop just last night! He had sex every week with another woman. He had no reason to have Charlotte. None at all. Certainly, she wouldn’t be in his room.

As if possessed, Ashcroft opened Moriarty’s door without knocking, trying just to silently walk in, quell his paranoia, and then leave without insulting his best friend with uncalled for accusations.

Barely breathing, Ashcroft loomed over the side of Moriarty’s bed, unable to believe what he was seeing. Charlotte was under the covers with Moriarty, who had his arm slung under her. She had her face pressed onto the man’s bare chest as he slept, unconsciously petting her loosened hair. She was sleeping, breathing deeply, with a satisfied smile on her face.

Ashcroft ground his teeth, clenching his fist around the sword at his hilt. Somehow Moriarty sensed he was in the room, because his eyes popped open like a shot and looked right at Ashcroft, who looked at him in a manner that was seriously considering homicide.

“Fuck!” Moriarty cried, jumping out from under Charlotte, falling clumsily to the far side of the bed but jumping back on his feet quickly. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he pleaded, putting up his hands.

Charlotte woke up with a start. “Ashcroft, no, wait—”

Not what it looks like
.
That’s it. He was going to kill him. How could his best mate betray him like this? When he knew how much he wanted Charlotte?

The sword was wielded. “Son of a bitch!” Ashcroft lunged towards Moriarty, and the man did something he probably hadn’t done in a century—he turned into a fox. In this new form, he fled underneath the bed, around Ashcroft, and flew out the barely
open window that was letting in the night air. Ashcroft pushed the shutter open the rest of the way, and could see Moriarty’s red, black and white tail bound through the gardens. “Come back here and I’ll skin you and nail your treacherous hide to my wall, you bastard!” he bellowed out of the open window. “You hear me? You’re dead
!”

“Ashcroft.” A voice behind him was so quiet, and so nervous, that he was amazed that it didn’t calm him at all. He turned and stared at Charlotte with a sinister glance. “I’m the one that came in here. He tried to kick me out, I swear.”

“How long?” Ashcroft hissed, stepping towards her.

She swallowed and nervously replied, “H-how long?”

“How long have you been fucking him
and teasing me? I
a
m
quite
sure you had a nice time laughing behind my back, have
you not
? And I thought you were so innocent…” He couldn’t keep his mouth from spitting out his obvious disgust.

Her eyebrows narrowed. “Just what do you think happened here?” she demanded. “I haven’t been doing anything with Moriarty!”

“It did
no
t look like nothing,” he snapped. “
I’ll not have you lie to me after all this.
”

Her shoulders straightened and she lifted her chin. “So what if I did fuck him? What does it mean to you? It’s not like we’re in a relationship. Every time we have a moment, you sprint out the door! And now you have the nerve to be jealous? How dare y—”

He bent down and kissed her punishingly, pressing his lips hard against hers, pressing her head to his with his hands. She tried pulling back from him at first, but then he heard her moan and she opened her mouth for his protruding tongue to delve.

He pushed her down
against
the mattress; she was already panting, her breath already hoarse. He’d wanted this since the first moment he’d seen her. And here she was—beautiful, dressed in only a thin night gown, and already ruined. There was nothing to feel guilty about. Anyone could have sex with a loose woman.

He didn’t have to be tender. He didn’t have to be gentle or sensitive. He was going to take her as hard as he wanted. She wouldn’t walk straight for a week…

Ashcroft lowered his arms, wrapping one around her chest and drawing her up to her knees as lifted her nightgown enough so that he could fondle her ass. When he felt her silk panties in the way of his skin touching hers, he ripped them off of her with a firm, skilled yank, even as she made a short peep of surprise. And then he began to paw her with abandon.  He could feel the welts the night before, feel the heat from her skin.

She stopped kissing him long enough to let out a whimpering squeak as he squeezed her flesh
with
his hand. He didn’t stop, merely pawed harder, a growl at the back of his throat. “Be gentle with me,” she begged him softly, pressing her hands against his chest.

He growled again and squeezed one more time. “No. You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” he breathed, picking up her body and carrying her further up the bed.

She bit her lip as he laid her down. “Ashcroft…” she began, pleadingly. “Look, we need to talk about what happened. Mori—” He pressed his lips against hers firmly to silence her. He didn’t want to know what happened between her and Moriarty. All he cared about was what was now going to happen between them.

He pressed his body between her thighs and then began to snake up her nightgown slowly, letting his hands feel every piece of her skin as he raised the cloth off her body. Eventually, she was completely naked, which she acted like she wasn’t used to. She put her knees up and curled her arms over her breasts, her face blushing bright red.

He leaned back as he undid his scabbard, dropping his sword sheath onto the floor unceremoniously, unable to take his eyes off the sight in front of him. Her skin was so soft that she shimmered. Every curve, even her flat belly and the small, dainty tuft of hair between her legs was exactly as he had imagined it. He undid his belt and released his member which had been bound against his lower stomach, and her eyes widened with awe, a gasp to her lips.

With a wolfish grin, he pulled her hands away from her breasts, revealing her pink nipples, which he lowered his mouth to
and sucked
hungrily. Her body curled up to meet him. He moved his hand inside her thighs, and then up into her sex where he delved his fingers into her tightness.

He was going to erupt any second if he didn’t have her. But even one of his fingers was a tight squeeze, he tried pushing two in, but…

His body froze in horror as he felt her hymen, perfectly attached. His mind felt like it was going to burst with the realization of what he was doing, and then he yelled throatily as he released his seed against her thigh disgracefully.

It was the most
shameful
moment of his life.

*
*
*

Charlotte was panting; grinding against Ashcroft’s finger. She closed her eyes, feeling completely lost to pleasure, lost in the moment. Here was Ashcroft—the sexiest man she knew, and he was about to take her virginity.

The problem with Moriarty would surely be fixed up in time. Moriarty had served under Ashcroft since he was able to take human form at all—for nearly seven hundred years. There was no way that Ashcroft would throw the relationship away because of a little misunderstanding
, Charlotte was more than sure
.

It was all just happening too quickly to keep up. Ashcroft’s kiss was—so delightful. So deep, so scandalous and fulfilling. His every touch, be it rough, was pure heaven, even if it did make her heart race with nervousness. His mood was dark, but then—that’s when he was most sexy, anyway… When his eyes looked steely and unforgiving like they were now.

Now, he was sucking on her breast like he expected it to carry some antidote for misery as he ground his thick, long, pulsing member against her thigh. He suckled and nibbled, letting a deep, growling moan escape his throat as he delved another finger into her folds.

And then every muscle in the man’s body locked instantly—his eyes rounded with what looked like horror, and then he pressed his mouth into her, roaring with his release. It sounded so passionate, so animalistic, that it drove Charlotte into an instant frenzy, but he immediately withdrew both of his fingers and recoiled away from her, cursing in his original Elvish language, and stood up, keeping his back to her as he tugged up his pants.

She had never had cold water dumped on her, but she imagined that was what it was like. “What’s wrong?” she asked, already feeling rejected.

“You’re a virgin?” he demanded as if she had fooled him on purpose.

She blushed. “I…”

He pointed to the bed. “What was that with Moriarty, then? Why are you even in this room?”

Her eyes narrowed. Her blood actually felt hot in her veins. She was humiliated, rejected, and still covered with her tutor’s seed. She cleaned herself off on the sheets, figuring she’d just change them, and then took the quilt
from
the bed and wrapped it around her body to cover herself. “We didn’t do anything, like I said! I came in here to sleep with him because I was too afraid to be in the room by myself, you insensitive prick.”

He swallowed visibly, but his eyebrows were still lowered darkly. “Why? What do you have to be afraid about?”

And she listed all the creatures that come out at night in the Otherworld—every single creature or demon or monster that lives off the good, eating people, eating animals, eating souls, eating dreams. And there were hundreds of them. She read them off like an encyclopedia.

He tried to get a word in, but she didn’t let him until she was finished, where she cut her hand through the air. “And Moriarty has protected me once. He wouldn’t hesitate
.
”

“And I would hesitate to protect you?” he interjected, looking like he was daring her to say it.

“All you do is hesitate. I’ve wanted you since June, and the only reason you took me is because you thought it was safer to take your friend’s sloppy seconds rather than have me for yourself. You’re a coward. And I needed a friend, not a lecture.”