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How good that feels! He pushes a little deeper and I think I might die from this. I arch back against the earth, for his member torments me, moving at m
y entrance.
“You’re as luscious as a newfound pearl, I want to savor you but I fear I cannot. “You make me want to rush.”
I stroke his face and wish that I had a candle so that I could watch him. “I do not want you to hold back, I will gladly receive whatever you can give me.”
He places his hands flat on the ground for purchase and gives me his length.
I’m full, my deepest parts penetrated and made alive by his member. With his rod buried in me to the hilt he looks down at me and shakes his head. I cannot see his face, but when he whispers my name and caresses my outline, I understand, for I know now that he has wanted this moment as much as I have. Bliss washes over me and yet I silently curse the world, for I want time and I want a bed where I can ride him over and again, eking out every last morsel of pleasure into the long night. When he begins to thrust, I grip his shoulders and I lift my hips to meet him, eager for all of him.
I hear a creature scurry in the bushes, voices in the street beyond. Fear that we will be discovered makes me desperate, and I run my hands over his back. The heels of my shoes are hard against his bottom as it bucks up and down with each thrust of his long rod inside me. It is so slippery there that he glides in and out with ease, and I feel him stroke every part of me. Overwrought, and overheated, we hurry, and we grind closer and closer still, until we barely move apart. Instead, we rock each other for the rub, gasping at each stroke, and when he spills I am folded beneath him and taking everything he has to give. There is a sob in my throat as I put my hand over the place where we are joined, relishing how that feels. I peak in his arms, even while he still jerks inside me. Clinging to him, my body arches and then seems to lift and peel away from this world, and I float, dazed, in the moment of my release.
Holding each other silently, I hate to feel him slip from inside me as we level, but I know he must. As he does, I turn my head away and I see lamplight pass on the far side of the graveyard, close to the kirk. As the lamp sways I see that it is the Reverend Slater out on some mission, and my breath catches in my chest at the sight of him. Nodding in that direction, I place my fingers against Irvine’s lips, until the old preacher is gone.
“Hurry, go that way and be quick about it,” I urge, pulling my skirts down.
He is hesitant. “I’ll walk you back as far as Shore Lane—”
“No, no, it is not safe. We must go separately.” I do not say what I really want to do—to take him home and lie with him all night long—because I want to protect him, and I know he’ll be hounded out of the village if we are found out.
“Will you meet me again?” I ask, before he goes, my heart heavy with longing.
“Aye, gladly I will,” he says, and kisses me one last time. A moment later he turns away, walks quickly out of the graveyard and is gone, and even though I’m alone now, I do not regret it.
I’m glad of what has happened between us.
Mighty glad.
16
ZOË’S EYES FLASHED OPEN AND SHE SAT UP IN the bed, clutching the covers to her chest, her heart pounding. Even as she did, her body jolted and her pussy dribbled hot juices between her thighs. She’d had another vision, and this one was even clearer than the last.
Annabel had addressed her directly and told her to pay attention so that she would understand. It was as if she had given her a window into a moment. Did she want her to know something, as Grayson had suggested? Would the mystery of Annabel McGraw be solved, after all these years, and could she truly be part of its unraveling? There was definitely an invitation there, something that gave her a choice to forge a connection with the dead woman. She lay back, wondering if she was ever going to get a solid couple of hours rest in this place.
“So much for sleeping alone,” she said out loud as she slumped back onto the pillows. She took a moment to assess whether there was a presence in the room. There didn’t seem to be. Her eyes closed but it wasn’t sleep she wanted. Her thoughts were chaotic as she tried to recount every detail of the vision, to store it away. Physically, it had left her feeling aroused, and yet she was equally fascinated by what had been revealed. Annabel had had two lovers.
She ran her hands over her breasts and lower over her belly, to the juncture of her thighs. “I’m a woman, like Annabel.”
That’s when she remembered that she had a date with a man, a man who wasn’t Grayson. Sitting bolt upright, she looked at the clock. She’d slept all afternoon. She only had twenty-five minutes before Crawford was due. Her stomach was growling. Pulling on a T-shirt, she darted down to the kitchen and crammed bread in the toaster.
After a quick snack, she checked the time. She had fifteen minutes. It was just about doable. She raced back up the stairs and into the bathroom, wondering if anyone had ever had such a chaotic, unusual holiday.
When Crawford knocked at the door, she was still in a daze, trying to find her fancy bra. Where the hell was it? She’d managed to lose an earring at some point as well, although she thought she’d probably dropped that while wandering in Dundee. Darting over to the window with her dress clutched to her chest, she stuck her head out and called down to Crawford. “I’ll be down in a minute. Just getting dressed.”
Great start to the evening. But after everything that had gone on, the visions and the weirdness with Grayson earlier on, was it any wonder? Regret welled inside her when she paused to think about him for a moment. It was him that had her in this mess, she thought, determined not to let Crawford know what state she was in. She was awake half the night because of him, and she’d slumbered after the latest vision, and now she couldn’t even find the bra she wanted to wear.
All the same, she couldn’t help wishing that it was him she was going out with, and that they hadn’t argued. Snatching up the bra she’d abandoned earlier, she wondered if she’d even remembered to pack the pretty one at all, but she was sure she’d seen it lying around here earlier. That’s what she got for not unpacking properly. No matter, the day bra would work with the summer dress she planned to wear.
Pulling on her outfit, she grabbed her strappy high-heeled sandals. After a quick application of lipstick and mascara, she combed her hair and was done. It was the fastest makeover job she’d ever done, but she looked reasonable, considering. The dress she’d put on was a clingy sheath. It outlined her figure, gave her a healthy glow, and when she wore it with heels it made her feel confident.
Jogging back downstairs, she paused. Despite the horrible disagreement earlier, she felt she ought to let Grayson know about the new information that had come to her during the vision. She’d agreed to be his research assistant and she hated to let people down. Scrabbling about in her bag for a pen and paper, she scribbled a message, crumpled the piece of paper in her hand and darted out the door.
Crawford was sitting on the sea wall, well back from both houses. He gave her a lazy smile.
“Sorry about that. I’ve just got to drop this note next door and then I’m ready.” She thought he might come over and join her, but he stayed where he was. She walked to Grayson’s door and slid the note through the letterbox. As she did, she wondered if she might have phrased it a bit better, but she was in a rush. At least she’d done the decent thing and filled him in on the latest information.
Crawford watched her with curiosity as she walked back to him.
