Lacybourne Manor (Page 128)

Lacybourne Manor (Ghosts and Reincarnation #3)(128)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Phoebe carefully locked them in.

And just as carefully, Marian sprinkled a protection charm on the threshold.

* * * * *

Mags ran to the kitchen. She found the huge pot hidden in the butler’s pantry and with an unladylike grunt she tugged it out, brought it to the kitchen proper and hefted it onto the burner. She lit the gas underneath it to the highest heat and pulled the lid off the pot.

Then she peeled the aluminium foil off the top.

Then she removed the plastic wrap that had been underneath the foil.

It did have a very foul odour, one that needed to be hidden for a variety of reasons.

Marian bustled in sprinkling something from a glass vile onto the floor and whispering under her breath. This she had done all through the house where Colin and Sibyl’s guests would be.

Jemma and Tina bustled in and Phoebe followed them.

Mrs. Griffith (a little slow anyway) brought up the rear.

“Mrs. Griffith,” Jemma said, trying to sound stern, “you should be in the lounge.”

“If you think I’m going to miss this, you’re mad,” Mrs. Griffith returned, a highly unusual smile cracking her face.

Before anyone could say anything else, Marian seemed to come to herself and noticed the pot.

“That will not do at all,” she said to no one and then snapped her fingers.

The flames flew up on all sides of the pot, licking it and crackling in the air.

Everyone jumped back a step.

“Let’s go, ladies. We have work to do,” Marian commanded.

Without hesitation, as they had been instructed earlier at the barbeque, they formed a semi-circle around the pot, trying not to breathe the putrid fumes.

And they started to chant the words Marian had taught them over vegetable shish kebabs.

* * * * *

Sibyl was on her back on the bed, Colin on top of her, Colin all over her. His mouth was at one breast and he’d pulled down the other cup of the nightie and there his fingers were teasing her. Unlike normally, when the spirals of hot desire went from her br**sts, her stomach, tingling up from her toes and zooming toward the space between her legs, instead, the spirals were zooming out from between her legs and going everywhere.

She’d torn his sweater off, nearly ripped it off over his head before he pushed her back on the bed. Now he was only in jeans, she in her nightie and she could stand it no more. She wanted his skin against her skin, she wanted him inside her.

She put her hands in his hair, tugged his head up to hers and kissed him with every bit of love (which was a lot) and every bit of arousal (which was a lot, a lot) she felt.

He tore his mouth away and gazed at her with eyes blazing so intensely, she was sure she’d melt.

She whispered, “Now.”

Without hesitation, he left her. As she absently heard thunder fill the air, she watched with fascination as he removed his jeans and then leaned forward and in one, quick, luscious jerk, he pulled her panties down her legs. He smoothed the lace up over her h*ps as she reached for him to bring him to her.

He spread her thighs and surged over her and with one, fierce, beautiful, fluid movement he filled her.

“Yes,” she breathed.

* * * * *

“Yes,” Beatrice breathed.

They were finally na**d on the cloak, skin against skin. Royce had taken pains to make her ready for him, he’d tasted her, tempted her, teased her. He couldn’t believe the beauty of her body, could not believe she was all his, to touch with his hands, his lips, his mouth.

He was certainly going to enjoy a lifetime of this. Very, very much.

Now with his head bent to her breast, he pulled her nipple sharply in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and listening to her soft, exquisite moans.

His fingers had found resistance earlier but he had loosened it using her unwavering trust in him against her instincts, as well as his talented fingers, and they were now, finally inside her.

And she was dripping wet.

She was ready for him.

He spread her legs and rolled between them while his mouth took hers in a sweet kiss, his hands moving to frame her face.

“This will hurt, my love,” he murmured against her lips as he found her with the tip of his shaft and, controlling his h*ps with an immense effort of will, he slid inside her just an inch.

Her eyes grew wide as she felt his invasion.

“Royce,” she breathed.

He slid in more, mere centimetres and gritted his teeth. He had avoided death in countless gory battles on countless blood-drenched battlefields but the exquisite torture of her lush tightness was finally going to kill him.

“I can’t stop the pain, but I shall try and make it…” He had to stop speaking and again grit his teeth so he wouldn’t drive into her with the wild abandon his body was demanding but only press in less than an inch more.

“I can’t…” she whispered.

“You can, my sweet.” He slid in further. “Trust me.”

“I can’t…” It was softer this time and her head moved to the side as he slowly inched in and let her adjust to his further intrusion.

“Trust me,” he repeated.

“I can’t…” she said and then with a glorious jerk, she slammed her h*ps down towards his. She emitted a soft cry of pain that was drowned out with his low growl as she embedded him fully inside her.

Her eyes opened and they were clear and trusting when she finished, “Wait.”

* * * * *

In both times, the golden air sparkled brightly with white-hot flashes, some of them nearly blue. They tingled skin, the glittered through hair, they brightened the air and they flashed everywhere like fireworks close to the ground.

* * * * *

In the kitchen at Lacybourne…

“Oh my…” Mags muttered, staring at the air.

“Don’t stop chanting,” Marian ordered, staring in the pot.

* * * * *

Close to a copse of trees outside Lacybourne…

“Dear goddess…” Esmeralda breathed as the sparks tingled her skin.

The dark soul cursed under its breath.

* * * * *

Royce drove in further, deeper, hearing her soft panting and feeling it throughout his body as Beatrice’s hands moved, restless and demanding, all over him.

“Royce, something… is happening… to me.” She couldn’t control her voice.

“Let go, my sweet, let it happen,” he urged

Trusting him, her head tilted back, her neck arched, she lifted her knees and he drove into her deeper as he buried his face in her neck and listened with profound satisfaction to the glorious sound of the pleasure overwhelming his sweet, beautiful new bride.