Devil's Fire

by Melissa MacNeal

  As if sensing my thoughts, he pulled the curtains across the glass. The back of the carriage dimmed cosily, and he turned me so I faced the rear wall, where he and Hatch had stacked my quilting materials as well as mammoth sacks of flour and pecans and coffee. Scents of cinnamon, cloves, and cocoa mingled with the perfume of my sex, coaxing me to breathe deeply.

  I relaxed. With Hyde standing behind me, caressing my breasts while he kissed the sensitive skin beneath my ears, I forgot all about being afraid. I began to move in his rhythm, rubbing my backside against his blatant erection. He coaxed me forward, and I nestled against the stack of sacks, which cushioned me like a soft pillow. Flour wheezed out and made me laugh as it landed on my nose.

  ‘If you bend at the waist and lean into those bags, you’ll discover a whole new range of sensations from this direction.’

  I stiffened. ‘You’re not going up my arse, are you?’

  ‘No, no,’ he assured me, his breath sending streaks of lightning down my spine. ‘Simply entering that same little gate from another way. You’ll love it. I know you will.’

  His words were becoming thick with desire, his movements more desperate. I leaned forward as he’d suggested. Seconds later, I felt a draught when my gown swished up over my back and my drawers fell to the floor. Hyde fumbled with his fly buttons while he placed his other hand between my legs.

  ‘Spread for me. Lord, I’m so thick and heavy, I might —’

  My gasp drowned him out, because he’d parted my folds and shoved two fingers inside me. I was dripping already, so the friction of our skin made a secretive, sucking sound — yet another sensation to add to the repertoire I’d begun yesterday. With a moan, Hyde slid his cock between my folds, rubbing the outside of me with quick, frantic strokes.

  ‘Bend lower,’ he rasped.

  As I did, he entered me. Hugging the soft, pillowy sacks, I braced myself to withstand his thrusts. I felt myself rising quickly towards climax again. His guttural cries told of a need only I could satisfy, while the thumb he pressed against my aching nub reminded me that he still put my pleasure first. His cock pumped relentlessly; his privates made a slapping sound each time he buried that column deep within me. A now-familiar tightness devoured me and I cried out with my own release. It sent Hyde into a series of spasms that filled me with his hot, gushing seed.

  When he collapsed against me, our weight caused an avalanche of supply sacks. I landed beneath him with a squeal, giggling helplessly as more of the flour and coffee fell around us. The carriage air grew hazy with white powder, which settled on our clothes and faces, but we were too busy kissing to care. Hyde rolled on top of me, his low chuckles vibrating against my chest.

  ‘I might have to visit the monastery more than once a week,’ he teased. His eyes glowed as he brushed flour off my cheeks. ‘Leaving you there among the monks might not be such a good idea. I know damn well they’ll want you as badly as I do, sweetheart.’

  ‘Ah, but they have their vows of celibacy,’ I reminded him. ‘And what you said yesterday is true. You’ve cast your spell, Hyde. I couldn’t possibly want another man.’

  His smile sent little streaks of joy through me. After we caught our breath, he helped me up from the carriage floor and we straightened our clothing, sharing playful kisses. It felt so wonderful to engage in these things without being spied upon, and without the morbidity of Mount Calvary pressing upon me.

  When we returned to the seat, however, reality set in. Beau’s back was now laced with snow and the sky churned with whiteness. The horse instinctively kept close to the mountain, shaking his massive head to clear his vision. Hyde took the reins again. Although his face remained calm as he surveyed the landscape — or lack of it — I sensed he’d require his total concentration to guide us safely through this impending blizzard.

  I sat silently beside him. My panic flared again, yet I knew better than to distract him with nervous chatter. I tried not to think about what disasters might lie ahead; tried not to see phantasms and eerie, shifting faces as the snow hissed and swirled against the windows. Pulling my cloak closer around my shoulders, I shut my eyes. Hyde had assured me the weather at Heaven’s Gate remained balmy enough for the vineyards to thrive, so I told myself that once we passed through this atmospheric layer, we’d ascend into sunshine again. After all, he had no reason to lie to me. Did he?

  How many desperate young women had he escorted up this mountain? How many had been so flattered by his attention — easy prey for such a handsome man of means — that they gave themselves to him as eagerly as I had? For all I knew, I’d arrive at the abbey to find Hyde’s previous conquests awaiting his return. Each believing herself Mr Fortune’s favourite, these women would snub me and do their best to intimidate me.

  I must have shuddered, because his arm slipped around me. ‘You can open your eyes now, Mary Grace,’ he said softly. ‘We’ve passed through the worst of it, and we’ll arrive within the hour.’

  How much time had gone by since our lovemaking? I’d lost all track, so it was a great relief to hazard a glance through one eye and see only dull grey rain hitting the window. I relaxed against him. He pressed his lips to my temple, and I decided I was foolish to fret over his other women. My stay at Heaven’s Gate would allow me time to consider my feelings for Hyde, and a chance at an income, as well. I would simply have to have faith in the future, and in my ability to make the most of it.

  Poor Beau struggled along a stretch of the road where rocks and mud had washed down the mountain. The carriage lurched precariously, but we made it around the obstacles without sliding over the canyon’s edge. Had I not been so preoccupied with whether solid ground remained under our wheels, the view would’ve been breathtaking. Higher we climbed, until we left the stately stands of lodgepole pine and spruce behind us. The sky remained heavy and dark, and the rain pelted us like a barrage of gunfire.

  But then we rounded another bend, and there it was. Even from a distance, Heaven’s Gate exuded the quaint charm drawn into the labels on its products. On a brighter day, I could imagine it resembled a fine cathedral, up here close to God, so I held that image in my mind while we plodded along. Beau’s breath encircled his head and his muscles bunched with the exertion of hauling such a heavy load. The man beside me had relaxed, so I fantasised about the fine quilts I would soon design. No sense in dwelling on the ominous shadows behind those towers, or in the sense of foreboding that loomed around the abbey when the clouds covered the sun.

  I must have dozed again. It was a dreamlike kiss that awakened me, to discover that the inner tinglings I felt came from the warm hand covering my breast. I allowed myself to remain in that state between wakefulness and sleep while Hyde unbuttoned my bodice to caress my bare skin. My nipple stood at rigid attention already, and his damp tongue drew circles that made me whisper his name.

  ‘So responsive,’ he murmured, ‘so perfect. I’m going to miss you, sweet lady.’

  I moaned, shifting lower on the seat. He must have stopped the carriage somewhere while I was asleep, because we weren’t moving. Instead of the storm, I heard the rustling of wings, as though birds were settling in for the night.

  ‘Open your eyes, Mary Grace. I want you to be looking at me when you come.’

  My eyes did indeed fly open, because a decisive thrust of Hyde’s fingers wakened my entire body. Somehow he’d found a sweet new spot inside me, a pleasure-pain so intense I clutched his shoulders. His face was a study in seduction, its manly contours shaded by a slight stubble and its square jaw clenched. Those russet eyes glowed from behind a thick wedge of his hair, which was mussed from being under my skirts. When his nostrils flared, I realised he was as caught up in my passion as I, and a final, deep lunge of his hand made me scream and squirt a torrent of juice.

  I grimaced, mortified. ‘My Lord, I’ve relieved myself all over you.’

  ‘No, it’s not what you’re thinking,’ he assured me with an awed smile. ‘Some women can climax from deep within, when touched
in the right place, and it seems you and I have accomplished that! Just another reason I want to keep loving you — to discover how much pleasure you’re capable of enjoying.’

  I was too muddled to understand what he meant, but I had faith Hyde Fortune would bring me to further glories over time. And he wanted to keep loving me!

  He stroked my hair, his expression pensive. ‘May I ask a favour, while we’re still alone?’

  ‘Anything,’ I whispered.

  His smile made my insides shimmer, for it was obvious he cared for me. ‘Would you…do you recall what Yu Ling did for Sebastian, as we watched through the peep-hole?’

  He sounded almost shy, as though afraid he were asking too much. I saw the Celestial quite vividly in my mind, taking the sextant’s thick, red erection into her mouth. It gave me pause, knowing how long and strong Hyde’s member felt when he thrust it inside me. Yet how could I refuse him? He’d mentioned this desire before. And he’d always seen to my pleasure first, as he promised.

  I ran my thumbnail up the bulge in his trousers with more confidence than I felt. If that little serving girl could please him with either set of lips, I would have to aspire to even bolder heights to prove I was a better lover than she. So I reached for Hyde’s front buttons, and was rewarded by an eager smile.

  Solomon jutted out proudly as we freed him from the constraints of clothing. I grasped the solid, pink base and squeezed, letting Hyde guide my hand’s rhythm and pressure. Once more I imagined the scene we’d spied upon, and extended my tongue towards the jewel of juice at his tip. With a moan, Hyde braced his foot against the edge of the seat. My licking made him pant in desperation while his hips quivered.

  ‘Take me — God, take me in your mouth, sweetheart. Now.’

  Making my lips into an O, I slid them down his shaft. He smelled of sex and sweat, and the secretive taste of him was nothing like I’d expected. Up and down I slid, letting my tongue slither wetly around him while I fondled his sac. His excited little gasps cheered me on; he speared his fingers through my hair to increase the speed of my strokes. I could feel him tightening, straining towards release. Solomon filled my mouth and prodded the back of my throat, until Hyde paused with the tip of him just inside my lips. He made a strangled sound, and then filled my mouth with warm spurts of cream that tasted like salty-sweet butter.

  For a moment, I was at a loss. Now that he was spent, what did I do with this liquid? Hyde was catching his breath, his member deflating but still between my lips while I feared my mouth might overflow. Again calling upon recollection, I realised Yu Ling hadn’t spat afterwards. So I swallowed in two big gulps. Hyde cradled my head against his flat lower belly, his pleasure evident in his sigh.

  ‘What a woman,’ he crooned. ‘You’ve given me another fond memory to fill the hours until we can play this way again. Lord, but you’re a natural at this, Mary —’

  The sudden opening of the carriage door made us both jump. Cold air blew in around us, but it was a chilly female voice that sent gooseflesh all over me.

  ‘Brother Christy is waiting,’ the intruder insisted. ‘We thought you’d been detained by the storm, until Ahmad came to report your carriage parked at the edge of the vineyard.’

  I wanted to die. Through the slit of one eyelid I saw a woman who suited that disdainful voice perfectly: with her steely hair pulled back in a tight knot, wearing the severe black uniform of a maid, she was the picture of a shrewish spinster who delighted in making others feel unworthy. Behind her, several people clad in simple brown tunics peered curiously into the carriage. At the sound of a snicker from among them, Hyde snatched the door from her.

  ‘We’ll see Brother Christy momentarily. Meanwhile, I know my way to the abbey without a group escort. Thank you.’

  He slammed the door. ‘Should’ve known Mrs Goodin would sniff us out!’ he said in a disgusted whisper. ‘Once we entered the grounds, I pulled over, hoping the rain would stop before we unloaded the kitchen supplies. But I couldn’t help wanting you one last time.’

  I was frantically adjusting my dress, wishing for a mirror so I could straighten my hair. ‘Nothing like making a grand entrance,’ I hissed. ‘Now all those people will think I’m some sort of hussy, come to —’

  He stopped fumbling with his buttons to take my face between his hands. ‘You’re more a lady than any of them can ever hope to be — because I say so, and because you’re mine,’ he insisted. ‘So stand tall and walk proud, Mary Grace Michaels. And stop blushing. It’s far too becoming.’

  As though his words weren’t confirmation enough, Hyde suddenly plucked the remaining pins from my hair. ‘We’ll show them just what sort of woman you are, sweetheart. We’ll make them wish they had half your inner strength and beauty. After all, you’re going to lay them several golden eggs, so to speak.’

  Ah, but the goose in that story lost her head, I mused.

  As Hyde took up the reins and urged Beau back on to the vineyard path, however, I kept my concerns to myself. Perhaps he was right: perhaps my quilts would redeem my unseemly entrance into this mountaintop world. I knew better than to assume Mrs Goodin would ever have a better impression of me, but I trusted Hyde’s judgment. I would only be a whore if I let them treat me like one.

  Chapter Five

  Stripped and Cleansed

  As the carriage approached the abbey, with its Gothic spires and leering gargoyles, I sensed we were being watched even though none of those previous onlookers loitered outside its massive double doors. Heaven’s Gate loomed like an ancient sentinel, and in my imagination’s eye the stone pattern above those tall, lozenge-shaped windows formed eyebrows raised in disdain. Those who came here were being warned to repent and prepare for the Kingdom.

  I tried to brush the flour from my skirt. ‘Hyde, I’m a sight! What will these monks think when they see us? They’ll know damn well what we’ve been doing.’

  He pulled Beau to a halt. ‘They’ll regret ever taking a vow of celibacy. And they’ll envy me as the luckiest man alive. No doubt they’ll have a lot of praying to do, to get beyond their lust and covetous thoughts.’

  His gaze remained steadfast — not a hint of a grin — until I scolded him.

  ‘Why, that’s the most — you’re incorrigible!’ I swatted the hand he was easing up my thigh. ‘I’ve come here to work, Mr Fortune. I care about making a bad impression already.’

  His face relaxed into the boyish grin I’d come to love. ‘They must accept you as you are, Mary Grace. Some of the vagrants who’ve come here from the Home for the Friendless are guilty of far more grievous sins than ours, yet I’ve never taken anyone back down the mountain. Lost souls seem to find a purpose here that makes them stay.’

  When I looked beyond the forbidding facade of the monastery, his words rang true. Although it was January, the grass grew lush and clusters of white cottages gave the place a more homely air. Beyond these living quarters grew groves of trees laden with fruit, and a huge garden laid out like a patchwork quilt. Then row upon row of well-tended vines stretched towards the horizon, heavy with grapes that glistened in the late-afternoon sun. This little world atop the Rockies could’ve been a still life rendered by an idealistic artist, perfect in every detail of form and colour.

  Hyde was right. Work well done was its own reward, and I was silly to let my state of disarray override my reason for coming here. This was my chance to start fresh as an artisan whose talent would justify her presence until she was on her feet again, emotionally and financially. Not many females got such an opportunity. I decided to stop whining and present myself as a resident worthy of respect, whose dignity would not be compromised by unseemly appearances.

  I’d no sooner stepped out of the carriage into Hyde’s arms than those heavy fortress doors opened. That shrew in the dark uniform stalked towards us, followed by a shorter, plumper monk with the most cherubic face I’d ever seen. I liked him immediately, but we first had to endure another scolding from the woman who’d thrown open the carriag
e door.

  ‘High time you arrived,’ she said in an accusing voice. ‘Brother Christy and Father Luc have been forced to delay their afternoon prayers, thinking you’d be here sooner.’

  Hyde bowed slightly, still holding my hand. ‘Mrs Goodin, I’d like you to meet Miss Mary Grace Michaels. As her father, the Reverend Jeremiah Michaels, has recently passed on, she’s come to share her quilting abilities — and the profits from them — here at Heaven’s Gate. I’m sure you’ll make her welcome.’

  The woman’s expression soured and her fist found her hip. ‘Your explanations for these foundlings grow more incredible with each one you leave us, Mr Fortune.’

  ‘And where would we be without the people he brings, and his promotion of our products?’ the monk behind her demanded. He stepped forward with his hand extended to Hyde, but his bright smile was all for me. ‘We’re delighted to have you, Miss Michaels. We hope your stay here will ease the grief of your father’s passing and bring you the peace you seek.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I murmured. It was the first time anyone had expressed concern about my situation without blaming me for my father’s suicide and the wrongdoing that drove him to it.

  ‘Mary Grace, this is the Brother Christy you’ve heard me speak of,’ Hyde said with a smile. ‘I have no qualms whatsoever about entrusting you to his care between my visits.’

  After being caught by those curiosity-seekers, I felt immediate relief when the chubby monk took my hands in his as Hyde looked on. Brother Christy’s round face beamed like an angel’s in a religious painting, although I saw no halo floating above the sun-streaked blond hair, which fitted his head like a bowl. Blue eyes twinkled behind rimless spectacles. Although he exuded a fatherly air as he gazed up into my face, I sensed he was young in outlook if not in years. He seemed ageless in an almost mystical way, and I couldn’t help smiling at him. Just being near this diminutive man made me feel happier than I had in months.

  He turned to Mrs Goodin. ‘Our friends are tired and hungry after a longer trip than usual,’ he remarked. ‘Would you please have a meal and a basin of warm water brought into the guest quarters? I’m sure Hyde and Miss Michaels would like to freshen up before they meet with Father Luc.’