The Witch's Thief by Tricia Schneider

did. “I want to see your eyes when I take you.”
    Her heart pounded in her chest. The heat swelling in her belly lit her body on fire. She writhed with want, need.
    She needed him.
    Only him.
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    With one hand he lifted her derriere, placing her entrance against his member. The tip of his hardness brushed against her opening.
    Slowly, he entered her.
    The corded muscles of his shoulders and neck tensed. She watched in amazement as he pushed into her a bit and pulled out. He pushed further in, easing into her, stretching her muscles to accommodate. He did this a few times, and she writhed beneath him, never taking her eyes off of his. Then he thrust all the way.
    A slight pain tore her, but he moved again, and the pain turned to pleasure of the most agreeable sort. His rhythm increased, and soon he pumped into her. Her breaths came in gasps. He rocked his hips faster. Her fingers found her breasts, caressing her nipples in the way he had done.
    He groaned as he watched her.
    Her eyelids drifted closed. Her heart pounded. She gasped for air. A pressure built within her, similar to what she experienced with him on the floor. He coaxed her towards release with each thrust.
    And then she was calling his name over and over. Her muscles clenched around him, squeezing him. He cried out, and with one last thrust, his seed spilled inside her. And stars burst beneath her eyelids.
    ****
    The startled sound of a shocked feminine gasp woke Julia. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyelids was her face buried in a pillow not her own. A peculiar musky aroma tickled her nose. She jerked her head up. A masculine groan rumbled from under the sheets beside her.
    She turned her head to the right and blinked, certain she was dreaming.
    Basil Merriweather lay stretched beside her, a tantalizing view of his naked chest peeking out from under the sheets. Julia tore her gaze from his chest to his face to confirm he still slept.
    So, what noise woke her?
    “Julia!”
    Julia turned to her left to find her sister standing not two feet away, hands on hips, her expression turning from shocked surprise to outraged anger and back again. She was at a loss for words as she lifted a hand to point first at Basil and then to herself.
    “You…and he…” she said, clearly trying to articulate, but finding it difficult.
    Julia sat up, pulling the sheet with her to cover her bare breasts. The sight perplexed Marianne further.
    “Julia!” she exclaimed, her cheeks now flushing scarlet. From anger or embarrassment, Julia could not discern.
    “Keep your voice down,” Julia whispered, glancing back at Basil. But, he slept undisturbed.
    “I won’t wake him,” Marianne sputtered. “How could I?”
    “Oh, yes. Force of habit that,” Julia said with a rueful smile.
    “ Julia! ”
    She sighed. “Yes, dear, I know my own name. Would you please get past the ‘Julia’ part, and tell me what you want to say.”
    Marianne clenched her fingers into fists.
    “What. Are. You. Doing ?” she asked, pausing with each word. She added with a nod toward Basil, “With him?”
    “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”
    Her sister did not take this statement well. Not at all.
    “None of my business? None of my business? ”
    But, now was not the time for this particular discussion. Basil stirred beside her. If she kept up a dialogue, he was bound to wake.
    While her sister ranted, Julia slipped with slow and quiet movements out of the bed and searched the dimly lit floor for the remnants of her dress.
    Lucky for her, Marianne woke her. It was not yet dawn so the servants were still abed. No one would notice her slipping back into her own bedchamber.
    Despite her past relationship with Basil, Julia did not want the world to know she had consummated said relationship. She couldn’t even imagine what his aunt might say if she ever discovered Julia’s indiscretion. Julia did not wish to trap him into marriage, nor did she