by Morgan Fox
“How will you do it this time?” he asked, stalling for time and praying for more information. If he kept them occupied with conversation, then maybe they’d be too distracted to hack off his head.
“How will we what?” Esriel asked, shrugging her shoulders. “We’re just inviting you in for a nice glass of tea.” Her eyes darted to Abigail, the expression cold and methodical.
A panic-filled chill raced down his spine, telling him to get the hell out. “Yes, Tristan,” Abigail said, rubbing her hand up his back in the same direction as the warning chill. “We just want to talk with you.”
“Right,” he bit out, shrugging Abigail’s hands off of him. “Would that tea happen to have another death potion mixed in with it?”
Esriel laughed. “Whatever are you talking about? We’re not witches, Tristan. Those are the stories of make believe.”
“Right,” he said again. “And waking up a walking zombie had nothing to do with you or Abigail?” His gaze shot to Abigail, who was nervously nibbling her bottom lip. Staring at her now, he suddenly felt as if he’d figured things out. “Do you use your daughter to lure men, Esriel?” Abigail’s gaze locked onto his. Her wide-eyed expression told him exactly what he needed to know. “That’s how you do it. You use her to bring home men to sacrifice.” He cocked his head in Esriel’s direction. “I’m curious…did you poison all of them or just me?”
“That’s not true,” Abigail spat, drawing his attention to her. “I didn’t do that with you, Tristan.”
His ear perked up at her choice of words. “Not with me, but with others.” So his gut instincts were right. Esriel had used Abigail to bait men. But how many?
Abigail swallowed hard and then pressed her lips into a tight scowl.
“Don’t worry, Abigail. I’m sure that once your mother disposes of me, you’ll pick up and move on to another town. Until of course you’ve risen enough suspicion like you did with me and then you’ll be off again.” Esriel took a step back, her gaze suspicious. “Your mother is a magnet for evil, Abigail, and she’s sucked you into her vile world with its intoxicating allure.” His breath was even as he confronted Abigail, keeping Esriel in sight at the corner of his eye. “Did she promise you something? Offer to give you money, clothes…love?”
Abigail’s eyes rounded. That was it. Abigail was lonely, and that was exactly why she hurt him. She loved him, but he didn’t love her back.
“Oh, Abby, I’m so sorry,” Tristan said softly. He actually felt pity for her. “I wished things could be different for you. I wish she hadn’t destroyed you with the poisons of her soul.”
Abigail lightly sobbed, wiping her damp cheeks with the backs of her hands. “My father used to call me Abby.” Her gaze shot to her mother’s. “Before he died.”
Tristan’s breath came quick. He couldn’t miss the deep glower on Abigail’s face. “Abby, did your mother kill your father?”
Esriel slapped his face. The cold sting of her hand left a warm tingle in its wake. He licked his lips, tasting the faintness of blood. “Abigail, don’t listen to a word he says. He’s one of them. You know he is. He hurt you. I’m helping you.” She reached for Abigail, but Abigail shrugged her touch away.
“No, Mother, he didn’t.” Abigail’s gaze softened as she looked up at him. “Tristan, I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.”
“Shut up, Abigail,” Esriel barked.
“No, Mother, I won’t be quiet. We’ve hurt so many people because of your wicked desires, and I won’t be a part of it anymore.” She took a step back. “Like my father, Tristan is a good person. Tristan was kind to me. He didn’t look at me like the others.” A line of tears trailed down her cheek as she sighed. Her voice dropped low as she said, “He took the time to smile at me.”
“Silence,” Esriel cried, shoving Abigail to the ground.
“You killed my father,” she yelled, scrambling to her feet. “Why did you take him from me?”
Esriel’s fists balled at her sides. Her jaw clenched as she shouted, “Your father was nothing. He was scum. He never loved you. He wanted to hurt me…hurt us. You’re better off without him.”
“No!” Abigail cried. “I’m not.”
Esriel’s gaze flew to his. “This is all your fault!”
She gripped Tristan’s throat. Her wild, banshee screams filled his ears like a pounding fist to his senses. She was ripping at the flesh of his neck with her razor-sharp claws, digging into the skin as if she were trying to tear his neck apart. Abigail rushed to pull her from him, but Esriel slammed her fist to her face, sending Abigail back onto the ground. He grasped Esriel’s hands, pulling with all his might against her abnormal strength. Her eyes had turned black, while her bloodred lips and yellow-stained teeth snapped at him. She never stopped screaming. Her body flung over him savagely. He raised his legs, bringing them up enough to use his own muscular strength to flip her over his head. She landed with a heavy thud. He raced to his feet, but she was fast, driving a knife into his side, scraping over his hip. He hissed as the sting of pain caught him off guard. His hand instantly went to the spot that drew his breath away. She kicked his feet out from under him, sending his body onto the ground. She was on top of him in the blink of an eye, holding the knife with both hands, preparing to drive it into his chest.
Several gunshots echoed around him. A number of seconds passed before he realized someone had shot Esriel. His eyes widened as her body slumped over his. Shifting his weight, he let her body roll to the side, freeing him. He gasped as his eyes rose to see Abigail standing beside him, holding a gun in her trembling hands.
Her sad, frightened eyes locked onto his. “This was my father’s gun,” she muttered, dropping to her knees just as the gun slipped from her fingers. “She took my daddy from me.” Her voice reflected that of a small child. Shaking her head, she stared at her mother’s lifeless body. “I never wanted to hurt anyone.”
Just then the front door practically exploded off its hinges as the room filled with police officers. Tristan breathed a sigh of relief as the nightmare of the last few days was finally coming to an end.
He moved to stand, but winced from the pain of the cut at his side. He’d almost forgotten that he’d been stabbed.
“Are you all right, Mr. Davis?” a police officer in a black swat uniform asked.
Tristan nodded. “Yes, I’m good.”
He watched solemnly as the officers cuffed Abigail. He followed them outside the house. Before they could place her in the rear of the squad car, he stopped them. “Wait.” He met Abigail’s timid gaze, a contrast from the hard-edged person he’d seen just minutes ago. “Thank you for saving my life.”
Abigail smiled and then turned to get into the car. The irony did not escape him. He chuckled to himself as he thought about how strange it was to thank the same person for saving his life when days prior she’d tried to kill him.
“Tristan!”
Lydia’s voice stirred him, forcing his attention to snap in her direction. He rushed toward her as she struggled to get past the police officers who held her back. When the policemen saw him heading toward her, their hold eased, allowing her to slip past them. She jumped into his arms, her body quivering.
“Ah, baby,” he rasped in her ear.
“I thought the worst,” she said. “I heard those gunshots.”
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here and I’m very much alive.” He cupped her face, holding her gentle brown gaze before covering her mouth with his. “I love you, Lydia and I think you need to marry me,” he muttered against her lips.
She froze in his arms, her fingers wrapping around his biceps. “What did you just say?”
He smiled, no longer feeling the biting pain at his side. “I said I love you and I want you to marry me.”
Gasping, Lydia covered her mouth, her eyes welling with joyful tears. “Oh, Tristan,” she breathed. “I love you too and hell yes, I’ll marry you.”
She kissed him hard, moving her lips all over his face, wrapping
her arms around his neck. Then she stopped and her movement startled him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think we need to come up with a cover story about what happened to you.” She bit her bottom lip. “This is going to freak a lot of people out.”
He shrugged dismissively. “We’ll just tell everyone I was poisoned and the poison mimicked death. That freaky shit’s on TV all the time.” He winked at her and smiled as if he’d solved the biggest mystery of all. But for some reason Lydia was still frowning. “Now what’s wrong?”
“My dad,” she said plainly.
“What about him?”
Lydia smiled coyly. “If you really want to marry me, Tristan…you need to ask for my hand.”
Even though they’d already broken the one rule, the major rule of no sex before marriage, he’d play along for her. Tristan knew her parents were old fashioned, and he respected that. He prayed she wouldn’t make him wait until their wedding night to have her again. Being without her would kill him for sure.
Nodding, he told her, “I have no problem with that.” She smiled, moving in to kiss him again, but he stopped her. “But what if he says no?”
Lydia’s smile broadened. “I guess we’re just gonna have to find out.”
Chapter Six
One year later
Soap dripped into Tristan’s eyes, and the burning sensation had him cursing. He quickly put his face under the shower of warm water and rinsed his face, blinking to use the water to flush out the soap. Suddenly something cupped his balls, and the shock sent him slamming against the far shower wall with another curse.
He blinked several times before his vision cleared. Lydia stood with the shower curtain pulled back. Her cheeks were rosy from her laughter.
He inhaled deeply, calming his racing heart. “You think that’s funny, do you?”
He leaned forward, grabbed her hand, and hauled her into the shower. She squealed as he made sure that every inch of her body was saturated. The red dress she wore hugged every delectable curve, molding around her round, perky breasts and hips that he instantly placed his hands on. The soft feel of her body beneath his hands had his cock hardening.
Gazing down at her serene face, the laughter between them slowly faded, leaving him with a burning desire firing in his gut. His cock jumped as his fingers strolled up to the V-neck collar of her dress. The heat from her skin poured into him, and he loved how alive he felt. His blood pumped wildly through his veins, warming every part of him. His mind filled with delight as he thought of all the things he wanted to do to her and now could thanks to her.
My Lydia.
His fingers glided down between her breasts, over the flat plain of her belly, circled the curve of her ass, and down her thighs until his fingers teased along the edge of her dress. Ever so gently, he pulled the damp material up over her body. His fingers sought to glide along every inch of her flesh until the dress was removed. He left her standing in her sexy red-and-black panties and bra. His mouth watered as her berry nipples beaded through the fabric, beckoning him to sample them.
He locked onto her fiery gaze and knew the passions awakening inside him were hot and alive in her as well. He took possession of her hungry mouth, delving his tongue between her lips. Sliding into the moisten depths, he tasted her and enjoyed the warm vanilla flavor. His kiss was greedy, taking all he could from her. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back, gliding down to his ass. She held him, urging him on. He unfastened her bra, peeling it free of her body. He tossed it over the shower curtain, and it sloshed as it hit the floor.
Meeting her gaze once more, he kissed the sweet smile of her lips, and then kissed along her chin, neck, and collarbone, massaging her breasts and sampling her soft, smooth skin. He flicked his tongue over her erect nipple and gently sucked, drawing light, fluttering moans from her throat. She clung to him, wrapping her hand at the back of his neck, capturing him in the fondest embrace.
The moment his fingers reached the waistband of her panties, he heard her gasp. He didn’t stop there. Pressing further, he found her slick arousal as his finger slid between the folds of her pussy, gently teasing her clit. She kicked her head back with a cry. He dropped to his knees and stripped her of her panties.
He licked his lips and gently kissed the dark patch of hair between her legs. He inclined his head back to look at her, his mind on fire with desire. “I have an idea,” he told her, rising to his full height. Reaching around her, he turned off the water, took hold of her hand, and led her to the sofa in their living room.
“I want you on your knees with your breasts resting against that back of the couch,” he said, pointing to the sofa. He’d pictured this as the first place he’d have her, and it sure wouldn’t be the only place.
“But I’m all wet.” she told him, spreading her arms to show him that she hadn’t dried off.
He couldn’t fight the wicked grin that surely eclipsed his face. “I hope you’ll get even wetter,” he told her, kissing her sweet mouth.
She nodded with a sexy grin and got into the position he requested. She was good at doing what he wanted and even better-looking doing it.
“Spread your knees a little wider and arch your back. I want to see that pretty pussy.”
He almost lost his balance as she did exactly as he instructed. His steel-hard cock was jutting out, and he wanted nothing more than to slam into the depths of her body, but he wouldn’t. Not yet. He had other plans for his seductive angel.
He moved behind her, rubbing his cock between her damp folds. He groaned. His entire body erupted with a fevered shiver. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees, placing his face directly behind her pert ass and slick pussy.
He licked between her legs, parting the lips of her cunt, sliding his tongue over her clit. She arched further, moaning as he feasted on her, devouring her essence. He flicked his tongue over the bud and clasped his mouth around it, sucking gently.
Her wild moans were driving him crazy, and his cock jerked in response. He slid his finger deep inside her and slowly pumped it in and out. Lapping at her wetness, he slipped in a second finger, stretching her.
“Tristan,” she cried, pushing back as her body gave way to her release.
He refused to stop his assault on her body. He couldn’t. Not just yet.
I want her writhing breathless beneath me.
He had so many things in store for her sweet little body. She’d finally given him everything he desired. A life with her, a home with her, and now he would give her everything he had. She’d captured his heart long ago, but now she would have all of him. There was nothing he wouldn’t give her.
He traced his drenched finger from her pussy and up between the cheeks of her ass, circling the knot that tightened as he touched it.
“Do you trust me, Lydia?”
“Yes,” she muttered, her breaths coming out sharply.
“Then relax. I won’t hurt you.” He kissed and massaged the round globes of her rear. “I told you that I wanted to take you here.”
He licked her cunt and circled his tongue around her anus. “Oh, God,” she cried.
Pride sprung up in his chest as he heard the pleasurable cries flutter from her throat. Her body was pressing back against his, begging him for more. Nothing could stop him from giving her all she desired. He’d waited for this moment since before he’d asked her father for her hand in marriage.
As promised, he hadn’t touched her until their wedding night, and now that she was his, truly his, nothing could prevent him from loving her completely.
He dipped his finger inside her pussy once again, and her husky pants of pleasure were almost his undoing. “Oh, baby, you’re turning me inside out.”
He placed his damp finger at the entrance to her anus and circled the knot, gently pressing in. She hissed, arching her head back as he worked his finger deeper.
“That’s it, baby,” he said, his chest tightening as he watched her body respond to him.
H
is mouth watered as a wave of passion took hold of him. With his free hand, he reached down and greedily stroked himself. He wanted to plow into the depths of her body, fill her with his cum, but he had to wait. This was for her, and he wouldn’t ruin it because his brain and cock were running on overdrive.
As she pushed back against his finger, he asked, “How does that feel, baby? Do you like the way I feel inside your ass? Are you ready for more?”
God, he knew he was. He wanted so badly to feel her tight grip on his cock as he pushed passed the tight ring. “Damn. Baby, I want to be inside you so bad.”
“More,” she begged.
Using his saliva, he moistened the area of her anus and slipped in a second finger. Again she hissed at the invasion, but she didn’t fight him. She welcomed him, slowly moving back against him.
With his other hand he stroked her clit, slipping two fingers inside her pussy, while his other two fingers teased her anus. “Oh. My. God,” she cried breathlessly.
She gripped the back of the sofa for support as he pleasured her body. He licked his lips, wishing he was flexible enough to suck on her clit while his hands tormented her body. His cock tingled, reminding him just how desperate he was to be buried inside her.
“Tristan!” Her raspy voice teased his senses, and he couldn’t help but smirk, knowing he was doing that to her. Gently he eased his fingers from her body. She whimpered as if disappointed that he’d done so.
She cocked her head to look back at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“I think you’re ready for more,” he said, pushing to his feet and taking her by the hand. “Do you want more?”
She gazed up at him with passion in her eyes. With a devilish grin, she said, “Yes, I’m ready.”
Tristan kissed her, his own desires melding with hers. “Follow me.” He led her to the bedroom. “Crawl onto the bed and lay on your back.”
