Free Lord Grim's Witch (a medieval romance novelette) by Delilah Devlin Page A

made quick work of his clothes, pulling them away and tossing them near the hearth. When at last he covered her, his lean, thickly muscled frame pressing her deep into her bedding, she opened her legs wide and sighed, thankful for the touch of his skin to hers.
    It had been so long she’d forgotten how much comfort and the poignant emotions the contact of musky warm skin and a heavy body could bring. Perhaps she should rethink and make a place in her life for the occasional lover. Not this one, of course, however attractive he was. She’d want someone less sure of himself and who’d respect the boundaries she set upon their relationship.
    But she’d think about that later. For now, his cock rooted between her legs until it found her moist entrance and thrust hard inside her.
    Gisele’s back arched. The thickness pressing against her inner walls wasn’t exactly painful, but it burned and stretched. His guess hadn’t been far off. It had been years since she’d allowed a man this intimacy.
    As his hips withdrew, dragging his cock against her inner walls then stroking back inside, she planted her feet on the mattress, determined to match his strokes—give him as good as he gave. She might be a woman and her sex intended to accept a man’s invasive ravaging, but she didn’t want him thinking she didn’t wield her own power or possess her own strengths.
    To press her point, she smoothed her hands down his back, over his hips and cupped his flexing buttocks, pausing there to knead the muscle and revel in the manly power of his body.
    When she slipped her fingers between the twin halves, tracing the crease to the tiny puckered hole, he growled and his strokes grew harder, sharper, lifting her bottom from the mattress with each deep thrust.
    Her lips curved, and she knew he must have seen it, because his growl deepened in unspoken warning, but it was too late. She pushed a finger into his arse, all the way, then swirled her wrist to increase the sensations and the pressure.
    “Witch!” he shouted and his thrusts grew harsher, driving the breath from her body, creating a burning friction in her channel that melted all around him, easing his movements, filling the air with moist sounds that only increased Gisele’s excitement. The lewd, raw nature of their joining and the strength of the muscles clamping hard around her finger only stoked the flame higher.
    She wanted him deeper, harder, so she brought up her legs and tucked her knees beneath his armpits, allowing him the greatest penetration.
    Then it happened. The tension and heat he’d built with his thrusting cock burst in a fiery wave of heat that licked at her sex, tightened the nipples scraping his furry chest, and forced a whimper from her clenched lips—a small kittenish sound that surprised her almost as much as the excitement rippling up and down her channel.
    “Yes, witch!” he shouted, bracing his hands on the mattress and powering his hips harder.
    When the next wave roared over her, her back arched, pulling her finger from his arse and casting her over the edge into darkness.
    His hips slowed and a low groan broke from his throat as his seed spurted inside her, drenching her sex to overspill and slip between her buttocks to the bed. Her arms and legs clung to him as she quivered, and her cunt pulsed around him.
    At last, he collapsed onto her, and his mouth met hers. His kiss was sweet—and his first to her lips. He dragged them slowly over hers as they breathed noisily through their noses.
    She was loath to let him go. Covered, subdued by the strength of his body and his large cock, she felt a contentment she hadn’t known in a long time. And if it lacked anything, she wasn’t willing to look any deeper.
    Another sound ripped through the night air. This time no soft nicker, but a shrill, frightened whinny.
    “There’s something outside,” she whispered.
    “Aye, I think you’re right. Stay here.”
    She unwound her arms and legs, letting him