It was a horrible, horrible idea, but her lips looked so damnably enticing… His own voice seemed distant as he asked, “I can come… pick you up… maybe after luncheon?”
She nodded, not saying anything. She raised her chin up.
No. No, he couldn’t kiss her. Last time he tried, he couldn’t control himself. If he was allowed to have a relationship with her—when this was all said and done—then he would take things slowly, he would make sure that those blue eyes weren’t enticing him merely because they reminded him of Charlotte.
He balled his fists at his sides, since his hands were nearly set to wander until they were around her waist again.
“Goodbye then,” he huffed, frustrated with himself.
She looked suddenly very anxious and awkward. She put her hand on the knob and pushed her door open, backing into it. “After lunch, then?”
He frowned and grumpily replied, “Yes.”
She swallowed. “Oh… okay…” She gave him a wobbly smile. “Good—”
He wondered why she had closed the door between them so suddenly before he realized that, in a brisk, protective gesture to himself, he had been the one to reach in and close the door in her face. He hadn’t even realized what had happened until he looked down and saw his own hand tightened over the doorknob.
He was losing his bloody mind!
He turned away, realizing that he was mentally broken, apparently, because as soon as his cock decided to have an opinion over what his next choice would be, he did all sorts of things he couldn’t control.
After marching back and forth down the long corridor for about fifteen minutes, he burst into Moriarty’s room and found him in the bathtub, looking like he was trying to rest by smoking a cigar and sitting there under a layer of bubbles.
Moriarty didn’t look too happy to see him. “What the hell—?” he began, looking like he was going to push his way out of the bathtub to deal with some sort of emergency.
“I need to speak to you,” Ashcroft rumbled, beginning to pace back and forth even in this smaller room.
Moriarty looked around him, and then down. He pulled his cigar out from between his teeth and demanded, “What? Now? I’m taking a bath! Can this really not wait?”
Ashcroft turned and gave him an expression that seemed to say exactly what he wanted it to, because Moriarty immediately gave a defeated groan and sat back. “Fine. Go on.” He took a long drag of his cigar then tapped the ashes off the side and onto the floor next to him.
Now, Ashcroft hesitated. He didn’t know where to start! He didn’t know what was wrong with him.
“It’s about the witchling, isn’t it?” Moriarty guessed, and Ashcroft merely pursed his lips, unable to deny it. Moriarty seemed to become completely at ease as he went on, “Look, it doesn’t have to be love, master. Just go in there and bend the girl over a table and have at. You’ll both feel better for it, I guarantee you. That is a girl who needs a good fuck if I ever saw one!”
Before Ashcroft could step up to the bathtub close enough to strangle Moriarty for saying that, or at least give him a black eye, the Huxian wisely added with a grin, “Fucked by you, not by anyone else, obviously. I don’t know what your hold-up is with her. She’s pretty, extremely rare, well-connected, educated, has loads of magical potential, and for some reason, she likes you.”
“She’s too much like Charlotte!” he groused manically. “How can you act like this isn’t sick? That’s probably the only reason I’m interested in her, and it’s wrong!”
“Actually, it sounds to me like that’s the only reason you aren’t interested in her…” Moriarty rolled his eyes and added, “You just have a type. Apparently for the naughty, argumentative, and defiant. Maybe you have some sort of thing for girls that seem to have deep down daddy issues. Maybe her eyes are just your favorite color. It could be a variety of different things, master, but it doesn’t matter. If you like her, then go for it. What have you got to lose?”
“My head if everything doesn’t go perfectly,” he reminded Moriarty dourly. “Hoel would gladly pull it off my shoulders as easily as plucking a grape.”
Nothing about Moriarty’s posture seemed to think that it was a large matter. “You’ve told me a million times that nobody lives forever. Not even you. Take it from me; if you’re going to die anyway, make sure you don’t do it with full testes.”
Ashcroft massaged his eyes through his lids with his fingertips. “As always, Moriarty, you are a bastion of wisdom,” he grumbled sarcastically.
“Some things never change,” Moriarty informed him with pride and a grin that was nearly feline, taking another puff of his cigar. “Now, I’d invite you in, but I’m afraid there’s only room for one,” he said, gesturing at the bath water. He then squinted at him and asked, “Why are you all wet?”
“I’ll leave you,” Ashcroft said, walking from the room.
“Seriously! There’s not a whole lot of water around here, and we are in the middle of a miserable, dusty, dirty desert—” Ashcroft shut the door behind him, leaving his oldest friend in a cloud of his own smoke.
He turned toward the room only to find Alice with a toddler next to her and a baby balanced on her hip. He froze, amazed by how beautiful, peaceful, and feminine she looked. “Is he still in a horrible mood?” she asked, breaking the silence.
Ashcroft found himself smiling and he leaned forward and kissed Alice on her upturned cheek, who returned the gesture. “I’m so glad you’ve come,” he told her. “If only because I missed you so much. Though you probably should have stayed behind in the tower like your husband said.”
She raised a chiding eyebrow on him and then, wordlessly, passed him her infant so, it seemed, she could pick up her second youngest who tightly wrapped his arms around her neck.
He looked down; he had been around when Cole was small, but he had never been forced to hold a child. It made him ache somewhere deep in his chest. He had once been so close to having a brood of his own…
“I can never trust a single word you say,” Alice told him. “You’re forever conspiring with my husband.” She sighed and said, “I am forever grateful to you for finding my children…”
“I did nothing of the kind, I assure you,” he promptly said, shaking his head and adjusting the baby’s weight on his waist. The child responded by sticking most of his hand in his mouth and looking at Ashcroft’s scars with a look of wide-eyed wonderment. “Maili followed me, though I told her not to as well, and then she had the nerve to go ahead and be smarter than me. She figured it out uncommonly quickly, especially for one so young…”
“Cole was telling me about her,” Alice informed him. “But how old is she?”
Ashcroft’s brow furrowed as he thought back on all the conversations he’d had about her in the last couple of weeks. “I’m not at all certain,” he admitted. “Her foster father is the great Hoel, and he’s never been accused of being specific…”
“The great Hoel?” Alice asked, wide-eyed. “My goodness…” A dark look came over her face as she added, “Back in the hive, when I was a little girl, they used to use him as a boogey man. You know, do your chores or Hoel might come and get you. He’s killed whole hives off…”
“Yes, but in reality, he’s a reasonable sort of man who has healing powers, and others, that a wizard like me would love to tap into,” he admitted. “When I first came across her, I blessed my luck to finally get an excuse to get near him. That’s before I found out she was a Byndian.”
“And now?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
He blinked at her a couple of times, confused.
“Well,” she explained, “you seem to like her more now for more reason than that. I was watching you in the courtyard a bit ago. You seem to get on quite well.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, excitedly trying to squeeze more information out of him. She was not going to be successful. In fact, he felt his cheeks slightly beginning to heat. Was it so obvious that he liked the girl?
“Hm,” he grunted, ending the conversation until he looked at the baby. “There now,” he said to the child, “you seem a little too happy about your parentage, if you ask me. They’re nothing but know-it-alls and meddlers.” In reply, the child just smiled wider.
“Some people call it being a know-it-all, but I like to think Moriarty and I are really quite wise. Anyway, if you ask me—”
“I didn’t.”
“—then I’d say you’re well on your way to having the girl fall in love with you.” She smiled, as sweet a smile as he’d ever seen on a harpy. He didn’t want to hear that; if he ended up failing her or getting killed, her disappointment would be that much greater if the girl had ended up doing anything beyond tolerating him.
“Enough, madam. Really, I don’t need the inducement.”
She merely grinned wider, looked at her baby and then at him. “You look very good like that. I do wish you’d start a family of your own. My brood could do with some playmates.”
“At the moment I don’t find that it would prove sagacious of me to make any plans further than twenty-four hours out,” he replied simply, trying to keep any look from his expression that would hint to his feelings about how terrified he was—of the relationship, of his future, of his guilt of letting himself feel toward the girl down the hall in the same way he had for Charlotte.
Even better, since Maili was clever. Although her memory didn’t go back overly far, Hoel had taken her in hand so that Ashcroft didn’t have to; she was well-read, well-trained, well-studied. Anwen had given her some manners and even grace, though it might not have looked like it when they were right next to each other, since it was very hard to compare lesser creatures to an ethereal creature like a goddess. The high standard she’d had to live up to had still made her extremely above average when it came to charm and femininity, while still allowing her to keep the playful spirit of a child.
“Very romantic,” she said in a very chipper, yet very sardonic, way. “Alright, alright. You have a lot on your mind, so help me bring these two to their room and I’ll release you. Apparently, it’s way past this one’s nap time.” She patted the back of the five-year-old who already looked quite asleep on her shoulder, despite he hadn’t even been held for more than a couple of minutes.
“You know,” Alice said anyway, even when he followed her into the room that the elves had given their children, which was right off of her and Moriarty’s. “Charlotte wouldn’t have wanted you to grieve as long as you have. She would have wanted you to be happy. Believe me when I say that—I didn’t know her long, but I knew her well during the time we had.”
He fought with himself to give her a blank expression instead of an annoyed one. He’d known Alice’s sister longer than even Alice had. He found it hard to believe that Charlotte would have been at all alright with him becoming emotionally involved in another woman. Even when he had gone through his grieving phase of sleeping with everything that moved, he made sure never to look at those women twice. Charlotte was jealous and very insecure about his feelings for her. She had always been afraid of him leaving her.
“I’m going to go get some dry clothes on,” he grumbled, excusing himself from the room before she was going to try to squeeze out any more emotion or bring forth any more painful thoughts.
Chapter Twenty
It was an itch that Maili couldn’t quite scratch; it was something that just buried in her brain like a tick, not letting go. It was giving her a headache.
What made her feel a million times worse wasn’t how cold and wet she felt from her failure in her first advanced spell; it was the way Ashcroft was acting right outside her door. One second he looked protective, even concerned. The next he was distant and awkward and seemed to want to be as far away from her as possible.
She didn’t want him away; despite her bad feeling, or whatever was making her brain ache, she always felt better when he was near. For better or for worse, it was true. It didn’t make sense—his presence should have been frightful because of all the facial scars or, if nothing else, the weight of his advanced age, which she could see easily even past his face, which hadn’t aged past his mid-thirties.
He was a peremptory know-it-all who preferred study over anything and everything else. Still, when he looked at her in that smoldering way he had before he’d kissed her out in her family’s garden, she went completely weak in the knees. In fact, she went all wobbly, inside and out, when she was even thinking about that look!
She knew mama would want her to think right now on her own virtue… but what of it? Perhaps if she gave her virtue to Ashcroft, then Hoel would let her give everything else to him as well as soon as Damen stopped being an option?
If worse came to worst, she’d be damned if a villain like Damen would have her virginity!
It was settled in her mind, easily as that. She’d give it to Ashcroft.
If Ashcroft would only take it… She felt like he was trying to keep her at arm’s length.
She tried her best to make herself look as seductive as possible, something he couldn’t ignore. The princess had let her borrow some of her cast-offs, and those were beautiful and barely worn, but still it didn’t seem to say, ‘Make me yours!’ like she wanted to. She wanted to give him something he wouldn’t miss.
That’s probably why, right before he was expected to come get her for more lessons, she decided to shuck off her dress and go completely nude and then sprawled on her bed, wavering back and forth between trying to position herself in a sexy courtesan sort of way and trying not to shake like a newborn lamb.
“Urgh! I can’t do it,” Maili finally moaned, getting off the bed and crossing the room to collect her underthings.
It was quite a surprise when she was tugging on her chemise over her naked body and she opened her eyes to see Ashcroft in the doorway. He looked absolutely frozen in his steps, his dark brown eyes wide with shock.
She gasped, her whole body blushing from head to toe, and she grabbed her dress to put in front of her, blathering like a right idiot. “I… I…” She swallowed.
Those eyes of his came to life and he looked her over before that smoldering look. “Damned temptress!” he grunted, and then the space between them was eaten up in two strides before he wrapped his arms tightly around her and began kissing her hungrily.
She unfastened his cloak and let it drop on the floor before her, and he gripped his fingers into her waist as they both tasted each other, their tongues warring with fury. Her dress was on the floor, forgotten, leaving her naked from the waist down. This was actually going to happen this time.
Ashcroft grabbed her ass and actually picked her up before tossing her onto the bed. He was so strong that he’d handled her like she weighed nothing at all; compared to him, she was nothing but a doll he could do anything he wanted with, a fact that had her stomach tied up into nervous, yet excited, knots.
She thought Ashcroft would crawl onto the bed, prowling toward her until he had his body over hers. She was surprised when he grabbed her ankles and tugged her toward him until her bottom was near the very edge of the bed. He easily pried her thighs far apart with his calloused hands before he stepped between them. He grabbed at her chemise and tore it apart until her breasts spilled from the cloth. His rough fingers palmed her breasts before they pinched one of her raised, hard nipples.
She was panting, unable to decide if she should simply relax and let Ashcroft have his way with her, or if she should make him slow down and take her gently, since it was her first time—the first she could remember, at least. But she didn’t want to speak to him; her body was responding to his as if it already knew exactly what to do, and his pinewood scent was making her feel heady and drunk. She was running her fingers through his dark hair, and it felt like she was sinking entirely into a pleasure-filled existence, her body on fire, her senses heightened. “I need you inside me,” she murmured dreamily before whimpering impatiently, “Please.”
She saw a flicker of sentience in hi
s eyes; something that made her aware that he considered the consequences of what he was doing for a split second, before deciding quickly that he could live with the aftermath. “Stay still,” he growled at her, letting go of her breasts just long enough to quickly free himself from his trews.
Somehow, when she’d seen him nude before while she was peeping at him from her tree perch, she didn’t recall his member being massive. That was probably because she was too far away to see any details, or she wasn’t exactly paying attention to the phallus. Now she was, and she wondered, with fear, if she could actually take all that inside of her. Either way, she was surprised when she looked between her legs and saw him grab one hand around her thigh to steady her and with the other, he lined his member against her slick opening, running it up and down the slit.
Although she was frightened of his cockhead when he’d first pulled it free, now every time he pressed it up and down her slit, she thought she’d gone to heaven. Her back arched up, savoring it, letting it madden her. She ground herself hungrily against him. “Shh.” He stroked her inner thigh with his free hand like one might pet an animal. “Relax, now. You’ll get this.” He continued to tease her as he leaned down and took one of her breasts into his mouth and suckled.
She groaned, “Ashcroft!” at the ceiling. It was a moan of impatience, which seemed to be building the more he touched her. He began to trail his lips and kisses down toward her belly button now. “Ash!”
He nibbled on her stomach, making her squeal. “I’ve never seen such impatience…” he tsked.
“Stop teasing me, you bastard!” she growled back at him.
He grinned and said, “What a mouth on you…” He kissed back up the length of her and then plundered her mouth again. She felt him line himself back up to her entrance again. “Does the whiny little witchling need a dose of my big—” he pushed his head in and she gasped as he had to push again, harder, and bust through her virginal wall, “hard,” another push, and it was gone, “cock?” with one more push, he shoved his length deep into her to the hilt.
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