“And what about you, Mr. Miles?” she asked teasingly. “Do you want the suburban lifestyle? A wife and two and a half kids?”
“Well, I have no need for half of a child, and I was thinking more close to… say, twenty children at least,” was his certain response. “And abiding in and around the Earthside is fine for meeting a wife, apparently, but not for raising children—especially ours, since our cross-breeding would no doubt lead to shape-shifting wizards of sorts that other children might find a bit odd…”
She blushed. They’d never had a conversation like this, or really talked much about the future. What was entertaining was the fact that he was calling his future children ‘ours’. “Twenty?” was all she could say.
“Well, not all at once,” he assured matter-of-factly. “But over the years, we might have quite a brood. I refuse to be conservative about reproduction. There are several realms and several worlds, and if we had an army of ten thousand, we’d still barely be making a dent on the overall population. I never understood why so many folk only have one child every century or so. Take Charlotte’s mother—she’s her mother’s first child! The woman was nearly seven hundred. Children simply aren’t so troublesome to have them so seldom...”
“Moriarty,” she sighed, aiming a chiding glance at him. “Remember that you haven’t even engaged me yet. I think you should do at least that much before we start talking about having future litters.”
He sat up on his elbow and peered over at her, his milky-brown eyes scanning over her body as she sat down at the window seat. “You’re right. Ashcroft was just rebuking my manners this afternoon like I was some errant schoolboy, and he’s getting to be all too right. Supposedly, I have no manners anymore.” He whipped his body up and walked over to the closet, removing his shirt.
“Is that big news?” Alice asked, chuckling wryly. “I’ve been saying that since I’ve first met you.”
“You didn’t meet me under the best of circumstances,” he said from the closet. When he came out, he came out with what looked like a scarf. “I let it all go to the wind that night, and could barely pick up the pieces. Though your biting wasn’t very well-mannered, either, I might add.” He winked and then offered his hand to help her up.
She looked at the hand dubiously and grinned. “Where are you leading me?”
“On an adventure,” he assured, pulling her up and leading her to the bed. He pulled her up so she was kneeling on the mattress, and then he came up behind her and put the scarf around her eyes, blindfolding her.
“Now, should I be trusting you this much?” she asked him, chuckling.
“Absolutely not. I’m surprised you didn’t run from the room screaming as soon as I came out of the closet with the scarf,” he told her. “Serves you right.” He began to pull up her nightgown over her shoulders.
She began to snicker. “Alright, Morry. I’m beginning to feel like I’m naked more often than I’m clothed,” she complained lightly. “Besides, how am I supposed to reciprocate if I’m blinded?”
“You know I like being in charge,” he reminded her, manipulating her body until she was flat on her back over the pillows. “You’re getting too modern for your own good. Before you know it, you’ll think that it’s up to you to run the show. And that simply won’t do for either of us.”
She listened to him remove his trousers and covered her breasts as she waited. “Won’t it?” she teased.
“No,” he growled playfully. “It’s a good way to get yourself a spanking…” He hummed thoughtfully, “Although you’d like parts of it...” She felt his rough fingers ply inside of her thigh from both sides towards her clit.
“You always say that. I always end up liking all of it.” She smiled demurely, but then frowned when she realized she couldn’t watch him smile devilishly back with his golden eyes glinting at her. She reached up and she tried to push the scarf off her face.
He grabbed her hands and brought them to his chest. “So quick to give up on my game?” he chuckled.
“Well, a lot of what I like is visual,” she replied. “If you weren’t attractive, this might work better… But I like looking at how handsome you are. I mean, all things considered, YOU’RE the one that that should be blind-folded...” she added with a frown.
She heard him sigh at her, and she was fully expecting, as soon as she said it, to get yet another lecture about how attractive she was. She always said that it couldn’t be helped—she had never received a compliment in her whole life until she met Moriarty. She had only seen compliments performed on television and dreamed… And he would then reply that yes, she could help talking about herself that way, and would give her a firm smack on her poor rear end.
It wasn’t that surprising when Moriarty heaved a heavy sigh and pulled his arm around her waist and dragged her body over his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You always have to do this…” he groaned, and then he began giving her very firm smacks with the palm of his hand on her bare bottom.
Quite alarmed, mostly because she was now blind and helpless, she flailed and bellowed, “Morry! For god sakes, this is ridiculous! It’s insult to injury!”
“Actually, its injury to insult,” he corrected and then, when she tried to take off her blindfold again, he snapped, “Don’t take it off, Alice. I’m perfectly serious.”
She whimpered as his hand came down with more SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! sounds that she was very positive that Ashcroft and Charlotte would be able to hear… The reason she knew this was because it was so mind-bogglingly easy to hear Charlotte’s punishments from their own room.
And the worst part was that she couldn’t see anything, so she was forced to focus on nothing but the pain, which was quite immense. She reached behind her back and tried to grab Moriarty’s hand in attempt to stop him. That didn’t work well at all; he just pinned her hand to the small of her back.
“Moriarty! Please! I was making a joke!” she pleaded desperately.
“You’re not a very good comedian. You ended up insulting the girl I plan to spend the rest of eternity with, and I can’t have that.” And he continued peppering her bottom with firm smacks. “I don’t want to have to start using my belt on you, Alice, but I’m not going to allow you to bring yourself down for the rest of our lives simply because your first thirty years were poor.”
She gasped. The belt? That sounded quite dramatic, although she could tell he was serious; she hadn’t been with him very long before she realized his pet peeve, which was her low self-confidence.
Which was very sweet, in a way… In another way, she lamented her low pain-tolerance and wondered why she never seemed to get her honey-nymph strength or speed when she was being spanked… But then she realized that it’s probably impossible to get amped up into crazy ass-kicking mode when she was feeling guilty, like she always did.
“Fine, fine!” she cried. After a little bit, he stopped and allowed her to put her hands over her hot skin and scurry off his naked thighs and then further up the bed.
“Wait, wait,” he said as she was busy pressing herself among the pillows. She was surprised when he pulled her back by the waist and situated himself over her and was kissing his lips against her shoulder.
“I’m really no longer in the mood,” she informed flatly.
“I disagree,” he said, his fingers delving into her wetness, teasing her. “And I’ve never been more in the mood in eight hundred years, I swear to you. You have no idea how delicious you look right now.”
Alice grumbled doubtfully.
But he had been perfectly sincere—Alice, his blonde-haired goddess, bending over with her hands covering her bright pink bottom while blindfolded was enough to make Moriarty pop. He couldn’t believe that she was his—he never thought that he would have a woman so attractive and so perfect as his own. He was amazed, however, in how she had no idea about how perfect she was.
He played with her until she gave her little squeaking moans that she couldn’t keep in, even though he knew
she thought she wanted to, and then he fed his length into her inch at a time until he was completely in her, and kissing the back of her spine, savoring being in her. He was absolutely certain there was nothing better—that he had never been happier when he was joined with her, never more complete, never more drunk with pleasure.
He meant to tease her body for an hour before he slipped a ring on her finger. But as it was, he brought her to a quicker relief. She was so sensitive to touch it didn’t ever take her long to bring to an orgasm, which lasted a long time, and soon she pulled her own released from him.
His heart beating, he laid down in the bed next to her and cradled her into his arms. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known inside and out,” he said, and put a ring into her hand. “And I will prove it to you every day if you marry me.”
She plucked at the scarf quickly as she gasped, then quickly looked down to the ring in her hand. “Oh, Moriarty… It’s so beautiful,” she told him, gazing at the topaz ring inset in intricate silver. Her birthstone surrounded by a sacred metal…
“That’s been mine for nearly five hundred years now, just waiting for your hand… If you’ll honor me by wearing it…” He didn’t add that it used to be a ring of a witch he helped destroy around that time, but thought it might make an interesting story one day. At the moment, it was hardly romantic.
She blinked down at it. For a moment, he actually twitched with concern, and he was sure it was visible before he was able to catch himself. He was suddenly very worried that she would refuse him.
What a horrible prospect! He wouldn’t be able to live. He wondered how he was going to die! Now he knew it would be because a bloody female was wont to break his heart as soon as he put it on a ledge—
“Of course I’ll marry you, Moriarty,” she assured with a giggle. “I swear; I’ve never seen you break a sweat, even when fighting against a whole flock of demons.”
He made a deep sigh of relief and pulled his arms tightly around her. He had worried himself almost to a sickly state, and found that he was dizzy.
“This is a little bit unconventional, isn’t it?” her voice murmured pleasantly in his ear. “Aren’t you supposed to be on one knee? And clothed?”
“Yes, yes. That’s what Charlotte told me when I said I’d engage you this week come hell or high water. She said to get down on a knee like a gentleman, and I said that if I did that, you might not know me.” He grinned when she kissed him.
“So everyone knows about our engagement?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Yes,” he answered quickly, and then he stopped to think about it, to see if there might be someone that possibly didn’t know. “Yes,” he said again with a nod. “Don’t look so surprised, Darling. I’ve always looked upon you as mine. You think I would take long to make it official?”
She shrugged. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t. I was pretty sure that you were tired of me, and I’d put you in a position.”
“What position?” he coughed, incredulous.
“You know… I live here, you live here. You can’t really be rid of me… I can’t go because I’m being trained… Even though I’ll never catch up with Charlotte as long as I live… She’s so smart it’s scary. Maybe the honey-nymph side numbed my wits.”
Moriarty hummed unhappily, not wanting to think about Charlotte when he was naked and absurdly happy about gaining himself a wife. He wanted to talk about his plans, their honeymoon, but instead he found himself having the console Alice that she wasn’t stupid. “You know, right before I met you, I was calling Charlotte stupid. She was such a slow learner… Slow reader. Slow everything—the only thing she knew how to do well was play that violin of hers. And let’s face it; she doesn’t even have the best taste of music, there, either. Lived here four months and she hasn’t played Mozart at all or anything like him…”
Alice laughed. “I can’t believe she’d ever been known as stupid,” she told him, shaking her head. “Besides, it’s a mean thing to say.”
“Well, she’s a teenager, so I’ll give her past self the benefit of a doubt. But Charlotte did something. You know what Ashcroft thinks? That she’s cheating somehow. He just doesn’t know how she’s cheating.”
Alice’s eyebrows lowered. “Fine thing to think about one’s fiancé…”
Moriarty waved the offense off. “He never thought her stupid, only indolent. And he still thinks her so… Which is why it’s so dastardly troubling that she came to know so much. I daresay, it’s been keeping him up at night…” He began to run his fingers through her silky blonde hair, sighing contently. “Anyway, you’re wrong,” he was happy to say. “You’re very, very fast. Very quick-witted, and not lazy at all. Blood is about all you have in common with your sister, I assure you… Except this tendency of yours to be naughty…”
She snuggled into him. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it. The hard part is getting you to spank me without accidentally getting you to spank hard.”
He chuckled and patted her well-pinkened bottom. “No doubt you’ll become a master at your craft in time, my love. Just no pretending that you’re not a goddess.”
“I will do my best,” she giggled, and said it like it was impossible, but she was saying it to appease him. He didn’t press her, though… He was too looking forward to making love to her yet again that evening.
Chapter Thirteen
“Charlotte…”
Charlotte woke up that night in a cold sweat. She looked to her side and realized that she hadn’t woken up Ashcroft, who was sprawled out on the bed with his hands over his head, gently snoring.
“Charlotte…” she heard a whispering voice call sing-songishly from outside the window.
She swallowed hard, not daring to move and barely even daring to breathe. She just listened to the winter wind howl through the trees.
Again, her name was called. She was certain she wasn’t imagining it, now. She had to see what it was, although she dreaded approaching the window. But she eventually pulled herself slowly out of bed, her eyes widened to the shadows brushing across the room. Her body trembling, she silently tiptoed to the frost-dusted window and peered out into the garden.
It didn’t take her long to see movement, and if she wasn’t dizzy with fear already, she might have screamed when she saw a dark figure from the edge of the garden wave at her from the tree line, urging her to come down.
Her eyes widened, and she found herself shaking her head. “Go away,” she whispered, knowing it was Lachlan. “Go away, go away…” She winced her eyes shut; wishing with all her might that he might just disappear from existence.
“Charlotte…”
She hesitantly opened her eyes again and saw his figure hold up something in his hands. When she squinted, she could see he held up a roll of parchment in his hands. She shook her head again. “No, no…” she squeaked, horrified.
From his hand, the roll of parchment turned into a paper bird, which flew up to her window.
Her mouth went dry, and she realized that he wouldn’t leave until he’d communicated something horrible to her. She stood on her tiptoes, quietly undid the window latch, and pushed the window open.
Cold winter wind blew violently into the room, chilling her down to her bones. But the paper bird continued to fly towards her until she had it in her hands. When she touched it, it turned back into a roll of parchment.
She heard a distant laugh, and looked down only to see the figure of Lachlan give a small bow, and then he disappeared. She looked down at the parchment in her hand as she tried to close up the window again.
She was just turning around, to see if Ashcroft had been disturbed, when she realized he was not a foot behind her, peering down.
She gasped, startled, and hopped a good foot backwards. She put the parchment behind her back.
He glared down at her for a moment, then pushed her aside and peered out in the direction she had been looking towards Lachlan, but obviously didn’t see anything,
because he didn’t turn as pale as a sheet. Instead, when he saw the garden was empty, her turned around. “Who was that?”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, but she knew she sounded guilty.
He put out his hand.
She looked at it, seeming stunned.
“Give it to me,” he ordered sternly.
“Give what?” her eyes rounded and she took another step back.
He grabbed her arm and reached around to grab the parchment out of her hands behind her. “Charlotte, it’s too late in the evening to be playing childish games with y—” His sentence dropped instantly when he looked down and recognized the emblem on the parchment.
“Charlotte? What is this?” he demanded, shaking the parchment at her.
She hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know yet,” she replied, but she did know it was horrible, whatever it was, and she stared at her feet.
He ripped open the parchment and then went to light the lamp at his bedside. He sat down on the bed and his demeanor became very tense as his eyes quickly rushed over the words on the page.
She bit her lip, wishing he’d read it aloud so she’d know what the note contained. Instead, his eyes rolled up and over at her, accusing her with a look of utter abhorrence. Her mouth dropped open. “Wh—what does it say?”
“You signed a contract with Lachlan?” he asked her, his voice a low rumble, very akin to thunder.
“I… I… Yes,” she admitted, but as his look at her darkened. “But just a little one.”
Otherworldly Discipline: A Witch's Lesson Page 23
