Warlock 4

John sat up in his wagon and looked around. He rolled his head and stretched and then glanced down. He shook his head and sighed before tugging his robe down. John rolled up his bedroll and climbed down from the wagon.

Artesia was brushing John’s gelding. She looked over at him and looked away quickly. John caught the blush on her cheeks.

He noticed Zynga sitting on the driver’s bench of the wagon. She looked at him and winked. John sighed. “That’s a new level of petty, you know.”

Zynga made a rude noise and waved his accusation away. “Your new girl wanted to know how big your cock is.”

“I doubt it. In fact, that’s probably the last thing she wanted to know.”

“Please, all women want to know. They’ve just learned they can’t admit to it in the twisted societies around here,” she argued.

John shook his head and turned to Artesia.

“Oh, Master?” Zynga called. After John stopped she said, “You were delicious last night.”

John closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath to help him relax. He moved on, heading to Artesia and the horse. “Sorry about… whatever she did last night.”

Artesia choked and nodded. She cleared her throat and patted the horse on the shoulder. “I, um, I think he’s ready. I’ll get him harnessed. Zynga said we’d be moving out right away?”

John nodded. “Dilly. Ever heard of it?”

Artesia nodded. “They brew a popular ale there. Not much more than flavored water, but they like it.”

John watched her lead the horse over to the wagon. He studied her as she moved, admiring her athletic build and wishing her leathers were tighter and more revealing. John shook his head to chase the thoughts away. She was his servant now, he had a responsibility to protect her, not to threaten her with his promiscuity.

Zynga was scowling when he glanced her way.

Once Artesia had harnessed the horse she climbed up into the wagon and waited for John to join her. The three of them in the front bench was a little snug and Artesia blushed again at the close quarters.

“How far is Dilly?” John asked to try and work through the awkwardness.

“A week at least, perhaps more if the roads are bad,” Artesia said.

John nodded. “Then let’s be off, I’m looking for someone.”

“John’s eager to prove his loyalty to Mistress,” Zynga said as Artesia worked the reigns and got the powerful horse moving.

John leaned forward to glare at the imp. “I am loyal to her,” he said. “Last night was a misunderstanding that won’t happen again now that I know better.”

Artesia’s eyes widened.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear, that happens quite often,” Zynga said with a cackle. “He’s talking about something else.”

“You…” Artesia clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. “Sorry, my lord, none of my business.”

John didn’t need to look to know Zynga was grinning. He could feel it through their bond— a bond made stronger by her feeding from his cum that Mistress had violently forced out of him as their communion ended the night before.

John grunted and let Artesia guide the wagon back toward the road. Half an hour or so later they were making better time as she brushed off the rust on her wagon-driving skills and gained confidence.

“You’re doing good, Artesia,” John said after they passed the first rancher leading a group of cows to the south. “I’m going to sit in the back.”

“Too cramped?” Zynga teased.

“I’m not going to pass up this opportunity to study,” John said. “I’ve much I need to re-learn…or perhaps learn for the first time. I can’t remember.”

“I know the way to Dilly,” Artesia said, helping him put an end to the discussion.

John rose and turned to climb over the back of the seat and into the wagon. He plucked his pillow from his bedroll and sat it against the side of the wagon before unlocking his chest and pulling out the first two tomes he’d recovered from Billie. They were far from proper treatises on magic, but any wizard’s spell books had numerous notes and processes written out as the wizard perfected his understanding of how they could get the spells to work best, if at all.

Join lowered the lid and closed the latch on it and then froze as a strange sensation filled him. It was familiarity. Not that he’d done this recently, but countless times.

John’s eyes narrowed. There was something… some image. A memory that just slipped out of his reach. A chest, like this but fancier and made from a different materials. Expensive materials… but he wasn’t sure what they were.

John shook his head and sighed. The image was gone. All that remained was knowing that he’d had an important chest before. A chest that stored a great many things of value to him. Now all he could remember of it was a picture in his mind. A picture of a bone white toy sized chest.

He sighed and set the thought aside. He had studying to do. He opened the first of the books and carefully moved past the hundred plus year old pages until he found the next spell he’d been struggling to understand. With it he believed he could call upon a fire and reshape it to his will. That or smother it into nothing.

John’s study took him through the day and it wasn’t until the sun was dropping in the west that he felt he’d understood it well enough and memorized the intricacies of the spell form that he could being experimenting. His stomach rumbled, remind him he hadn’t eaten all day. His magic hungered too, a low buzz deep in his belly that would grow more and more insistent the longer he denied it.

John put his books away and looked around, noticing the road had grown more crowded and their progress slower. A city was ahead, a large one this time. Beyond it was the ocean. The same ocean he’d sailed on the Red Witch, although he was further north now.

“I sailed a ship on those waters not long ago,” John said as he climbed back onto the bench and sat beside Artesia.

“I’ve never been on a ship,” she said. “I can’t swim.”

“Neither can many sailors,” he said. “They’d never admit that though.”

“How can—” she cut herself off and shook her head. “I’m sorry, my lord, I forget the world’s not meant to be fair nor make sense.”

John chuckled. “It seems that way, doesn’t it? You do know I’m not a lord, right?”

She shrugged. “Land owner or not, you’re my lord until you’re done with me.”

“Fair enough, I suppose. My time on a ship was enough. I think I’m done with sailing. For a while, at least.”

“I’ve always been curious,” she admitted. “I’ve heard tales that if one sailed far enough north there were jagged islands circling a great geyser that sprays boiling water hundreds of feet in the air like a swimming dragon. When it wasn’t spewing the water a whirlpool formed, drawing the sea into the bowels of the earth. Or maybe the belly of the dragon?”

John chuckled. “I’m sure it’s no dragon, but it sounds like there’s something amazing at play.”

The line of people slowed, forcing Artesia to slow the horse while she craned her neck to see ahead.

“Soldiers,” John said as he caught sight of them moving along the line and checking things. They wore the livery of Khalas, the city they sought to enter.

“We could go around,” Artesia offered. “You seek Dilly, not Khalas. Three more days will put us at Meelak, then another two days to Carvin.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit Meelak,” Zynga said. “Wasn’t it the first city to rebel against the king? Miners made a deal with some dwarves to grant their guild access to the mines in return for supporting their claim to freedom?”

Artesia and John both looked at the halfling. “Sounds like you know more than we do,” John said.

Artesia nodded. “I… maybe. They’ve got a fair number of dwarves.”

“And Carvin has elves,” Zynga said. She cackled and said, “Wait till you see them.”

“I’ve seen them,” Artesia muttered.

John saw the shift in Artesia’s demeanor. “Am I missing something?”

“They’re sand elves or some such,” Zynga said. “Hardy but smaller than even the wood elves of the north. They’ve been pets of the people of Carvin for ages now. Since long before the kingdom fell apart.”

“Pets?”

“Slaves,” Artesia corrected.

John grunted and watched the soldiers getting closer to them. Some of them were short, he realized. Short enough to be dwarves. Their beards confirmed his guess, although most of the human soldiers were bearded as well.

“Last chance,” Artesia offered when the soldiers had nearly reached them.

“To leave? No need, I think,” John said. “We’ve nothing to hide.”

“As you say, my lord.”

John glanced her way and then had to look back as a human soldier stopped next to the wagon. He turned his attention to the man and wondered how heavy and hot it would be wearing a hauberk of chain under a leather vest with small plates sewed into it.

“Need to search your wagon,” the soldier said.

John glanced into the bed of his wagon and shrugged. “There’s not much to search. What are you after?”

“A woman,” he said as he leaned over the back of the wagon to make sure it was as bare as it looked. He grunted and eyed John’s chest. “What’s in there?”

“Books,” John said.

He looked doubtful. “Books?”

“Unless this missing woman is the size of my assistant over there, she wouldn’t fit in my chest.”

“Would if you cut her up.”

John heard Artesia gasp. “By the saints, man, what sort of barbarian do you think I am?”

The soldier shrugged. “There’s a reward for her return. The bastard daughter of King Pelagryn.”

“Is that right?” John asked. “What’s she look like?”

He shrugged. “What hair’s she’s got looks like dirty sand, same as them other filthy elves from Carvin. Scrawny like an elf, but pretty if you like women with no meat on their bones.”

“Wait, she’s like an elf but not one?”

He looked around. “Half-breed, I heard.” He shrugged. “She’s not hiding here. Move along and Saints be with you.”

“And with you,” John said.

Artesia had to wait a moment for the riders in front of her to start moving. Once they did she cracked the reins and they lurched forward, heading toward the city. More soldiers lined the road watching the traffic pass them or talking amongst themselves. John paid them no mind and did his best to look focused and alert while his mind raced.

Nearly an hour later and with the sun beginning to drop below the edge of the sea in the west they reached the outer city. Taverns, squalid markets, and ramshackle brothels were scattered amongst the huts and shacks people used as houses. North of the city the ground rose steadily upwards into hills that turned into mountains in the distance. The houses built outside of the keep were nicer and the roads better kept.

“I know a tavern where the ale’s not too watered down,” Artesia offered.

John glanced around. Talas had some rougher boroughs to it but Khalas seemed dirtier by far so far. “Nearby?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“If it’s all the same, I’d rather we push a bit further into the city.”

“He likes his whores to smell pretty,” Zynga chortled.

John rolled his eyes. Artesia guided the wagon down the dusty road and didn’t bother to give Zynga a response.

“I’ll find something,” Artesia said and twitched the reins to guide the horse down the street and then turned onto another that led up into the hills. They rode for several minutes, moving slower at times than a man walking might, but also safe from scoundrels and thieves that eyed them until they made their way a nicer section. The taverns had windows with shutters and glass rather than boards and the walls and roofs didn’t look patched or falling apart.

“How’s this?” she asked as she slowed the horse and moved in front of a tavern called the Hidden Vein.

“That should do,” he agreed.

She pulled the horse to a stop and said, “I’ll park the wagon, my lord. Do you need anything out of it?”

“I’ll transfer my things to my pack and take them in,” he said.

“I’ll do that,” she said. “I’ll need your key, my lord.”

John studied her. “Is this where you steal what I have, sell it, and escape?”

“It could be,” she admitted with a faint smile. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of it.”

“Well, I appreciate your candor,” he said.

“Truth is, what then? I’d be out of gold in no time and then forced back into something like before. Where’s that end up? You promised to teach me things… and with you nobody looks at me and hides their children or checks to see if they still got their purse.”

John nodded and produced the key to his chest. “The pack’s inside with it. Bring it when you’re done and then after see keep what weapons and equipment you need and sell what’s left.”

She stiffened and then glanced at him. She forced the trace of a smile off her face and nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

“Zynga,” John said as he climbed down from the wagon. Zynga hopped down on the opposite side and met him in front of the tavern. They waited until Artesia moved the wagon down the street and into the yard beside the tavern where they had a small stable.

“Let me guess,” Zynga began.

“Watch her,” John said. “If she tries to steal anything or slip away, don’t stop her but keep an eye on her. “I’ll come for her after I’ve eaten.”

“Really? Eating?”

“She needs time to test her loyalty and I need some food, I’m famished.”

Zynga shook her head and turned away from him muttering something about mortals. John watched her go and then turned and went into the tavern.

The tavern was loud, busy, and cleaner than John expected. He moved to a table and caught a barmaid’s eyes. He nodded to her and she smiled. John sat down and waited for her to approach.

She arrived with a goblet and set it down in front of him, “Khalas Red, my lord,” she said when he raised an eyebrow at the wine. “You looked thirsty.”

“I am,” he agreed without taking a drink. “Hungry too. And I need a room— two rooms. One for myself and another for my servant.”

She hesitated and nodded. “Of course. I’ll see what we’ve got. We have a cow roasting on a spit or if you’d prefer there’s fresh fish chowder.”

“I’ll have to beef,” he said.

“My lord,” she bowed again before slipping away.

John watched her go and admired the way her skirts swayed. She might do nicely, he mused. Elsewhere in the common room it seemed to cater to merchants and perhaps even minor nobles or guildsmen. No one was drunk or boorish. The barmaids seemed ready and eager to serve and none were hard pressed or likely to have bruises on their bottoms from being pinched too much. All in all, it seemed like the Hidden Vein was a nice place.

John reached for the wine and took in the aroma. Pecans. He smelled pecans. Intrigued, he sampled it and swirled it around his tongue. Definitely pecans. It was dry and nutty, but quite good. He nodded and sipped some more before setting it down. Yes, this place was a rare gem.

A fresh voice cut through the background noise of the patrons discussing today’s haul from the sea or mines. “Pardon, my lord, but I hear you need two rooms?”

John looked up and blinked in surprise. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and she wore a pair of silver rimmed spectacles that had probably cost a small fortune. Her prim and proper look contrasted with the what he felt about her. His infernal nature was on high alert and it sensed things in her that were like a fresh bowl of milk to a cat. He had to have her, she was too delicious to pass up, no matter how much she tried to look like a strict matron of a monastery. “Why, yes, I did— I do, I mean. One for myself and one for my servant. She’ll be by in a bit, her meal is on me as well, whatever she wants.”

“I have two rooms but they aren’t next to each other,” she said.

John slid his finger along the table and flicked a tendril of magic around her wrist. It slithered up her arm like a snake and caused her to shudder. She reached up to brush her shoulder but it was already gliding up her neck. She gasped, giving the magic an opening to slip into her mouth and to twirl sensuously around her tongue. She took a deep breath, forcing her chest out and teasing him with a view of the cleavage her bustier left on display.

“That’s fine,” John said. “I’d appreciate if you showed my room to me when I’m finished eating?”

She sucked in a breath and glanced around. “I… I’d be happy to,” she stammered. “It’s just that this is my inn. If I’m away—”

“I’m sure you can trust your employees to take care of it, can’t you?”

She blinked and put her hand on his table, leaning forward a little as his magic stroke something deep inside of her. She bit her lip and nodded. “Yes…. Yes, of course. I… pardon me, my lord, I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. Of course I can trust my girls. I need some air, my lord, if you’ll excuse me?”

John smiled. “Of course. I’ll send the girl helping me to let you know when I’m ready.”

“Thank you!” she said and blushed. “I mean, thank you for letting me know… I… I need that air now.”

John watched her go and couldn’t help but chuckle. She was going to be a handful. Perhaps two handfuls even, he mused as he thought back on her cleavage.

The barmaid returned with a pitcher in one hand and a plate in the other. She refilled his goblet after setting the plate with roasted beef and a loaf of honeyed bread in front of him. She smiled and said, “Has Matron Brie stopped by? She said she was coming to arrange your lodging.”

John smiled. “Oh good, I expect she’ll be coming soon.”

Her head tilted a bit but she smiled and bowed her head before slipping away to tend to another customer. John watched her leave and didn’t bother to look ashamed when she glanced back and caught him. She blushed instead and couldn’t find it in herself to be bothered by his behavior.

John set to with the fork and knife he was given. The beef was delicious after a day without eating. He paced himself instead of gulping it down and turned the barmaid away when she offered a third cup of wine to him. He relaxed at his table, studying several of the people in the room and deciding that nobody here was very interesting. The girl serving him was excited and thrilled by the way he treated her with respect and then eyed her like she was another piece of meat he was going to eat. That, he could tell, was the height of her deviance.

A few of the women— and more than a few of the men— in the tavern were unfaithful. None seemed to be engaging in any affairs at the moment, but he could sense it in their auras and smells. John marveled at the awareness he seemed to possess. He hadn’t been around large groups of people since Mistress had changed him. Or perhaps his powers were still maturing and coming to him.

He caught his barmaid’s eyes. She hurried over, blushing on the way. Was her bustier loosened a little? There was an extra jiggle to her bosom.

“Can I get you something more, my lord?” she asked.

“Your Matron, I think it’s time for her,” John said.

She bowed her head. “Of course, I’ll fetch her straight away.”

She slipped away and glanced back to make sure John was watching her. She even grabbed her skirts as she slipped around the bar and gave them a tug, showing off a length of her leg almost to her knee. Scandalous in Khalas, no doubt.

John chuckled and finished his wine waiting for Matron Brie. She appeared from the back and hurried out, flashing a breathless smile his way. “My lord, are you ready to see your rooms?”

“Just my room,” he said. “My servant’s name is Artesia. She has a cut on her cheek I stitched myself. Please show her the same courtesy you’ve shown me.”

She blushed. “Of course. If you’ll follow me?”

“Happily,” John said as he rose. She led him through the common room and to the stairs that led up to the guest rooms. John noticed the volume in the room dropped a little as a few people took notice. Apparently being serviced by Matron Brie was unusual. He couldn’t hide his smirk. They had no idea how much servicing she was about to do.

She took him to a door at the end of the hall and opened it. She stepped inside and waited for him to follow her.

“Will this do, my lord?” she asked. “A table with pitcher and basin, one of my larger beds, freshly stuffed, I might add.”

“There is one thing missing,” John mused as he looked around. He shut the door and leaned his staff against the corner of the wall behind it.

“My lord?”

He turned on her and smiled. “Some companionship.”

She blushed. “My lord! I… this isn’t that kind of… well… I could send for—”

John stepped closer to her. She backed up a step and bumped into the wall. He reached up and stroked a finger up her neck and gently cupped her cheek. His magic warmed her skin and poured into her, fanning the flames of her not-so-hidden desires. She gasped and leaned into his hand. “My lord,” she moaned.

“John,” he said. “Call me John.”

She took a breath and shuddered. “What are you doing to me?” she breathed.

“Holding you,” he said. “In a moment, I’m going to be fucking you. I have a feeling you’re going to be special, Brie. Very special.”

She swallowed and reached up to grab John’s robe. She blinked the lust out of her eyes and stared into his. “I haven’t done this in years.”

“Don’t worry, your body still knows how.”

“Oh, I know that,” she purred. “I’m warning you that if you’re going to bed me, you’re going to do it right or I’m going to force you to keep doing it until you do.”

John smiled. “I had a feeling about you.”

“And I’ve been running down my legs since I saw you,” she said. “No man’s done that to me in a long time. Now shut up and get your robes off.”

John pulled his robe up and tossed it on the floor. She blinked at the sudden action and then took in his lean and manly body. She sucked on her lip and started yanking at the laces of her bustier. John pulled his boots while she shed her bustier and then helped her remove her sandals and dress.

She rushed him but he stopped her after her firm breasts pressed against his chest with a finger to her chin. He held her back long enough to reach up and remove her glasses. She blinked and smiled, lighting up her face. She reached up to remove the pins and ties that kept her hair in a bun and let it down. It fell about her shoulders, wavy from the tension it had been under.

“You’re beautiful,” John breathed as he stared at her.

She blushed. “You’re too kind,” she said. “A few years back I was. I’m too old for that now.”

“Nonsense,” John said. He reached up and slid his hand between them, cupping and squeezing her breast. They weren’t as firm as he’d first thought, but no sane man would dare to complain. She did have a few years on her, but she hid them well and was by no means old. Older than he looked, certainly, but still in her prime. “Any man of any age would be daft to pass you up.”

She blushed. “I don’t want any man.”

John kissed her and swept her up in his arms. She melted in his arms and then attacked him, hugging him back and kissing his mouth with a hunger he hadn’t felt since his time with Steff and Little Red. John’s heart skipped a beat and then was forced to beat on as she twisted them around and led him to the bed. She clung to him and leaned back, falling onto it and pulling him with her so he landed on top of her.

Her hand slid down and around his shaft and she broke their kiss to gasp. She shifted and stretched so she could look down at him and then back up. “Are you part horse?” she asked.

John chuckled. “Don’t worry, it will fit.”

“Oh, I know that,” she said with a wink. “It’s going to hurt though.”

“I won’t—”

“You better,” she growled. “If you think I’m going to let you fuck me and not leave me walking funny for days after, you’re a fool.”

“I’m not that big a fool,” John said. “You’ve been running down your leg, you say?”

“For ages, it feels.”

John stood up and grabbed her before she could reach for him. He flipped her on the bed and held her down as she struggled. His cock landed on her bottom and slipped into the crack of her arse, making her go still.

“Well why didn’t you say so,” she huffed and pulled her knees up under her so she could raise her hips higher. Her movement made John’s manhood shift and slide along her cleft until he felt her wetness rubbing against the bottom of his shaft. She pushed back and ground against him, leaving the base of his cock and balls slick.

“Don’t you dare be gentle,” she growled over her shoulder at him. “Fuck me like the woman I am.”

John pulled back so he could position himself at her entrance. He rubbed around a little, teasing her and drawing a fresh growl from the sultry matron. Satisfied that she was ready, he held himself at her entrance and said, “You do it. You prove to me how bad you want me in you. Split yourself on me.”

“Somebody’s got a big head,” she said and then giggled at the double meaning of her words. She moved her hands to the bed to brace herself and tested him with a gentle nudge. When she felt him spreading her she grinned. “Ready?”

John opened his mouth to respond but she slammed herself back on him. His cock bowed and then straightened as he burrowed inside her cunt. She made it nearly the entire way down on him before he struck the guardian of her womb. Brie stiffened and shuddered, her body racked with ecstasy and agony. She waved, frozen and confused by the conflicting sensations until she let out a long and loud groan. She shuddered around him, coming undone and exploding after years of pent up frustrations would no longer be denied.

John didn’t feel what she felt but he knew what was happening to her. His magic was more than just infernal, it was based in lust. Brie had no magic, but she already knew the riddle of lust that his Mistress had shared with him. Pain and pleasure were one and the same. In a case like this, John could believe it.

Drinking from the energy she poured into him certainly helped. In fact, if Brie could get off from something as simple as that…

John grabbed her hips and tunneled into her with magic, opening her to him and pulling back before slamming his hips forward. This time his flesh met hers. Her bottom struck his loins and his cock speared so deeply into her she thought it might come out between her tits. He pulled back and did it again, then again and again. Her groan turned breathless and then, a few pants later, into a rising howl as he fucked her from one orgasm straight into another.

She collapsed onto the bed, held up only by his hands. He rocked inside of her, driving only a few inches in and out while he ground his hips in circles against her. She moaned and groaned, barely conscious after the power of her sudden climaxes. Rather than driving her into a third and making her pass out, John slowly pulled out of her.

“Saints no,” she cried. “Don’t leave me! Not yet… so empty… so cold.”

“No way I’d leave that,” John promised as he rolled her over and pulled her legs up. She tried to help but barely had the strength to keep her eyes open and smile at him. She opened her mouth but John chose that moment to slide himself back into her. He hilted inside of her and her eyes crossed.

She shuddered in a mini orgasm and then managed to pull herself from the edge of pleasure-induced madness. “Saints,” she panted.

John stroked himself in and out of her slowly. She moaned and let her head loll back and forth. He hands found the strength to grip his thighs and she pushed. “John… slow… please.”

John chuckled and slowed his movements to a gentle rocking motion. “You told me not to hold back.”

She groaned. “I didn’t… I can’t…”

John slowly pulled out of her. Her eyes closed and she shuddered the entire time. Tiny burst of energy sparked from her and were swallowed up by John’s demonic side. She was nearly wiped out and he knew it.

John laid down on the bed next to her while she shivered and shook. He took her in his arms and pulled her up and over so she was cradled against his side. She continued to tremble and dozed a little against him. John looked down at himself and frowned. As pleased as he was because of the magic and knowing that he’d truly upended her world, he wanted release.

He looked down at her and wondered. A little shifting and sliding and he could slide his cock between her tits and…

John sighed. No, he couldn’t do that. Well, he could. In fact, a dark part of him kind of liked the idea. Unloading on her sleeping form felt like such a depraved and wicked thing. But no, he wouldn’t do that.

He shifted a little, not so he could slide himself between her breasts, but just to get more comfortable. Brie moaned and mumbled. She shifted to tuck herself against his side and lay her face on his chest while she slide her arm up and under his shoulder. She settled and her lips ended up brushing against his nipple. Her lips parted, allowing her warm breath to wash over him.

John closed his eyes and groaned. He’d never known his nipples could be so sensitive. Not just sensitive, but erogenous. His cock throbbed and a pearl of his pre-cum slid out of the end and dripped down onto his stomach.

John started when he felt something even hotter than her breath. He looked down but couldn’t see anything. He lowered his head back to the pillow slowly and then felt it again. Her tongue. She was teasing his nipple!

Brie’s lips shifted and pursed before closing around him. Her tongue began to lathe him, earning a groan. Brie shifted, obviously awake now, and began to nibble and suck on him. John groaned and swore under his breath. This was torture!

She pulled her mouth free and looked up at him. She shifted, coming up on the bed and kissed him, hard. John’s head spun for a moment from the skill her tongue and lips possessed. He’d taken the lead earlier but this woman had talents beyond his wildest expectations! He should have known when she drove herself onto him the first time. She was experienced… very experienced.

She shifted on the bed, drawing him onto his side. Her free hand stroked his cock while her right hand moved under his head. Was she trying to—

John felt the press of razor sharp steel against the side of his neck. His eyes snapped open just as Brie pulled her face back from his. He stared, struggling to make sense of things.

Brie glared at him, her eyes wild, tired, scared, and excited. She licked her lips before glancing at the knife she’d pulled from the hidden sheath at the head of the bed. Her eyes darted back up to his. “Don’t say a word unless I ask. Don’t even think a word,” she said. “You’re blood won’t be the first to stain this bed— why do you think I had to have the bed re-stuffed?”

John swallowed and felt the edge of the knife scrap his throat. He didn’t speak.

She nodded. “Good. Now tell me, John— or whoever you are— what are you really doing here?”

THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR