Mated By The Demon Collections: Paranormal Romance Read online

  “I just... just can't believe that they'd do that to an innocent old woman,” she said as Jude held her tightly in his arms. “She was harmless – just a bit senile, that's all. And they... they burned her alive...”

  Anger crackled and burned in Jude's eyes.

  “Superstitious nonsense, all of it,” he spat. “Fools, damn fools! I wish I could have stopped them... But when a mob gets bloodthirsty like that, it's sure death for anyone who tries to intervene. Those men were ready to kill anyone who interfered with their mob 'justice'. I know that they would have killed all three of us if I had done anything to try to stop them. Argh! But it's so damned frustrating! Seeing an innocent person die so horribly like that, and being powerless to do anything about it!”

  “Maybe she was a witch,” interjected Casey suddenly.

  Both Annie and Jude looked up at her with horror.

  “You can't honestly believe that!” exclaimed Annie.

  Casey shrugged.

  “Who's to say it wasn't the truth of this matter? There are plenty of things that happen in this world that we don't know how to explain. And some of those things may well be caused by black magic, by dabbling in the dark arts. I know for a fact that there are people who do such things.”

  “Yes, and they're far more likely to be evil, selfish men who lust after power than innocent old ladies with pet cats,” growled Jude in reply. “I've had enough of this topic. I need to be alone for a while. Annie, Casey, excuse me.”

  “I also need to be alone,” added Annie, and after Jude left, she too went up into the castle, heading for the sanctuary of her room.

  Casey watched her go with cold eyes. She smiled slyly, and then headed down to the stables. There, Simon the stable boy, whose knee Annie had healed, was brushing a horse.

  “Boy, get a horse ready for me,” she said. “I want to go for a ride in a few minutes.”

  “Yes m'lady,” replied Simon, and he limped over to saddle up one of the horses.

  A few minutes later Casey was on the horse and heading back into the village. There was someone she was now very interested in meeting...

  “Ah, it was a good witch burning, it was!” said the friar as he quaffed heavily on a pitcher of ale. “One more servant of evil removed from the good Lord's earth. I've done my work for the day, I have!”

  “Aye,” agreed the old drunkard he was talking to in the darkness of the dingy pub. “Damned witches, withering our crops, like.”

  “Friar Beeton, there's someone here to see you,” said the bartender as he brought the friar a fresh pitcher of ale.

  The bartender pointed his head in the direction of the door where, silhouetted against the late afternoon light, Casey was standing.

  “Who the hell is that now?” asked the friar as he picked up his new pitcher and took a deep swig of the crisp amber liquid inside it. “You, wench, what do you want with me?”

  Casey walked into the pub, wearing an expression of distaste on her hard-featured face.

  “This is a rather interesting place for a man of the church to be relaxing in,” she said sarcastically. “I wasn't aware that priests were allowed to frequent such places.”

  “I'm not a priest, I'm a friar, love,” he replied. “And doing the Lord's duties across the land is thirsty work. I'm entitled to a pint of this lovely stuff every now and then!”

  “That there's your fifth pint,” remarked the old drunk with a dry chuckle.

  The friar, however, was not amused.

  “Get the hell out of here, you nasty old sod,” he growled. “I've had enough of your company now. Go bother someone else!”

  The man grumbled under his breath but he stood up from the crude table and stumbled away.

  “Well now love, are you going to tell me what you want from me? You know, alcohol is not the only forbidden thing I'm okay with bending the rules about,” he said suggestively, while leering at her breasts, the shape of which were visible through her expensive blouse.

  She grimaced and crossed her arms aggressively across her chest.

  “Not if you were last man left on earth, and I the last woman, friar.”

  He stared at her for a while, looking both insulted and furious, but then he took another hefty swig of his ale and seemed to become more relaxed.

  “Well then, what the hell do you want from me?”

  “It seems like you have a penchant for witch burnings, friar.”

  He nodded, wiping the ale foam off of his lips with the back of his hand.

  “Damn right. Can't stand witches! It's my God-appointed task to make sure every last one of 'em is burned and removed from this plane of existence!”

  “Tell me, how would I go about identifying someone who I think might be a witch?”

  “Well, there's all manner of ways to do that.”

  “Just tell me the most common ones.”

  “Does she have a pet? Particularly a cat? If it's a black cat, she's certain to be a witch. Even a black dog, that's a strong possibility too.”

  Casey shook her head.

  “She doesn't have any pets. What else should I look for?”

  “Does she read books?”

  “Yes. She's got a lot of books and scrolls.”

  “Ah! Now we're onto something. What kind of books are they?”

  “I believe they're about potions and poultices and such things.”

  “Is she married?”

  “She was, but her husband died a few years ago. Now, I am convinced that she is trying to bewitch my half-brother. What's more, she has two eyes of different colors.”

  Friar Beeton nodded grimly.

  “She's a witch alright. An especially evil one too, with those strange eyes of hers. There's no doubt about that in my mind.”

  “What shall we do about this, Friar Beeton?”

  The friar took one more sip of his ale, and then looked up at Casey with an uncanny fire burning in his eyes.

  “Why, there's only one thing we can do, love. Burn her.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Simon the stable boy peered through the grimy pub window, standing on top of a wobbly barrel. He could see Casey talking in hushed tones to the suspicious-looking friar, and that familiar smirk of evil smeared across her face told him that she was up to no good. He ducked down when he saw her standing up to leave, and waited for a few moments until he heard her and her horse clopping away on the cobbled street. He waited until he was sure that she was gone, and then he limped into the pub. He took a seat next to the old drunkard who had been talking to the friar earlier.

  “Excuse me sir,” he said.

  “What do you want, boy? What are you doing in here?”

  “That young woman who just came in here, she's my sister, see,” lied Simon. “Our father sent me here to keep an eye on her, as she's often up to silliness. She's always getting in trouble, she is. Would you mind telling me if you overheard what she was talking about? My poor old dad is about your age, he is, and that girl is always causing him such heartache.”

  The old drunk's face softened a bit at this, and he took a swig of his booze before replying.

  “Ah, well, I'm sorry to hear that,” he said. “That there friar, he's a schemer, he is. I don't like him one bit. He got all of us riled up earlier with that witch burning, but now I've begun to think that maybe he's not as devout as he claimed to be. Anyway, that sister of yours was asking him about how one goes about identifying a witch.”

  “She said she thinks she knows someone who's a witch?”

  The old man nodded.

  “Yes. She described a person who's recently moved into your house, I believe. Said this woman is bewitching her brother – why, little lad, is that you she's talking about?”

  “No, no, it must be our, er, older brother,” Simon stuttered.

  “Ah well, anyway, the friar is convinced that this woman she's talking about is indeed a witch. I think that the friar is going to organize another witch burning... Yes my boy, I think that's what's on
his mind.”

  Alarm colored Simon's face and he stood up quickly. He now knew exactly what kind of devious plan Casey had hatched.

  “Thank you sir!” he said to the old drunkard as he hobbled as fast as he could out of the pub.

  He climbed up onto the horse he had borrowed from the stables, and immediately kicked the beast into a gallop. He had to get back and warn Annie as soon as he could.

  Back at the castle, Annie sat alone in her room, thinking about the brutality she had just witnessed. There were so many aspects of it that she found immensely disturbing – the mob's bloodlust,

  how easily they had been conned by the evil friar, and how powerless she had felt in the face of it. In addition, she felt frustrated because she hadn't been able to get any of the herbs or chemicals she needed, and as such she was unable to continue working on medicines to combat the upcoming threat of the Black Plague. As she sat and pondered these thoughts, she heard a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” she said.

  Jude walked in the door, carrying two large goblets of wine.

  “I thought you might need these, after what happened in the village today. I know that I could certainly use a drink after that.”

  “Thank you Jude,” she said.

  They sat down on the edge of her bed to drink the wine, as there was only one chair in the room. They both drank quickly, as they both felt drained and unsettled from the events that had unfolded earlier.

  “I can't believe that happened,” said Jude, shaking his head. “It feels like a nightmare... Yet it was reality.”

  “How can people be so cruel, so barbaric?” asked Annie.

  “It happens, when the spirit of the mob takes hold. I've seen it before... When people get into mobs like that, something else takes hold of them. It's as if their individual minds are erased, and this evil collective mind takes over all of them. If there's any true witchcraft and devilry in this world, it's not practiced by old harmless women. It's practiced by mobs like the one we saw earlier.”

  Annie clasped her hands and shook her head sadly.

  “It makes me lose hope sometimes, people acting in such ways.”

  Jude finished his goblet of wine, and then set it down on the floor. He cupped Annie's chin gently in his right hand and turned her face towards his, so that he could lock his eyes into hers.

  “Never lose hope,” he said softly to her. “There is good and light in the world, and evil cannot defeat it, so long as people like you keep on hoping and believing in the forces of good.”

  Annie finished her goblet of wine too and put it down. She gazed deeply into Jude's eyes.

  “Thank you Jude,” she said. “You're a reminder that despite the darkness, good will prevail in this world.”

  She was feeling a bit light-headed from the wine on her empty stomach – and the liquor also boosted a boldness into her veins. She leaned forward and kissed Jude; the kiss was slow, gentle and lingering, and it got her skin tingling in the most delightful way. Their lips parted, and Jude stared deeply into Annie's eyes. Then he leaned forward and kissed her, but this kiss was a lot more forceful. His tongue pushed through her tender lips, and its heat and wetness immediately began exploring her mouth. Annie felt her heart beginning to pound in her chest, and her breath started coming to her in short, sharp gasps. All of a sudden their arms were around each other, and they fell back onto the bed. It was as if a dam wall had broken and a flood of pent-up water had come storming through the rubble. Passion gushed and sloshed like floodwater between them; Jude's strong hands were all over Annie's body, while her desperate, fumbling fingers were working at speed to unbutton his shirt and tear it off.

  His fingers too were working at double time to unlace her blouse, and with dexterous finesse he undid the last lace. She paused in her own task to raise her arms so that he could haul the blouse off of her, and then her small but firm and pert breasts spilled out, exposed in the orange candlelight.

  At that moment she managed to undo the last button on his shirt, and with eager fingers she managed to get it off of him. She could not help but marvel at the marble-like solidity and definition of his muscles; Jude was not huge, but he was ripped with perfectly-chiseled, lean muscle, and there was not an ounce of fat on his torso.

  Jude cupped Annie's breasts in his hands, and squeezed and massaged them as he continued to kiss her with vigorous passion. His grip alternated between being firm, being gentle, and being downright powerful, and with each touch his steady, steely fingertips brought to her breasts, a different wave of pleasure shivered through Annie's body.

  Now his hands began to move downward, exploring the soft, subtle curve of her belly. Then his right hand was inside her skirt, exploring and feeling and still creeping down, ever down, toward the place where the heat was at its most intense. With his left hand he continued to fondle her breast, and now he began to move his mouth down, nibbling, biting and sucking on the side of her neck, and then her throat, and then the little hollow at the base of her throat, to which he paid an inordinate amount of attention, it seemed.

  Then his right hand pushed through her soft bed of hair between her thighs, and his fingertip brushed ever so gently over her exposed, waiting clitoris. This touch, fine and soft as that of a feather, sent a wave of intense ecstasy boosting through Annie's veins, and she could not help but cry out. Jude noticed this, and he returned his right fingertip to her clit, keeping his touches rhythmic, delicate and ever so soft. It was the slight pressure that did it for her; whenever she touched herself on lonely nights, she preferred to use a soft, gentle caress rather than the forceful motion she had heard that many other women enjoyed. For her, rhythm was the key – and Jude was getting the exact rhythm that she needed just right, and it was building up like a boiling steam-head of pressure, like a kettle rattling and screeching on a fire. That was, in fact, exactly how she imagined his deftly-working finger between her legs; as a fire, burning bright, sending pleasure-charged heat surging through every vein and artery of her body.

  With her own hands, trembling from the immensity of the pleasure Jude was giving her, Annie reached down and started to unbuckle his expensive belt. She pulled and fumbled and yanked, and eventually the clasp came loose. All the while he kept up his gentle rhythm on her clit, while moving his mouth down, still licking, sucking and lightly nibbling on her flesh. His roving lips met her right breast, and an altogether different wave of pleasure started to ripple through her body, gaining momentum as Jude's tongue began to work its way over her stiff, pale pink nipple. Now the two sources of ecstasy were working in tandem, and Annie could hardly even focus on the comparatively simple task of getting Jude's pants off. Still, she had an unshakeable desire to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her, so she forced herself to focus through the intensity of the sensations pulsating through her body, and she managed to yank his pants down, exposing powerful, ripped thighs, at the center of which stood a long, straight and solid tower of flesh, wrapped with python-like veins and crowned with a proud, dark head. She gripped the head, which was shining in the light with the force of its immense hardness, and started to rub on it, slowly and gently.

  Now it was Jude's turn to moan with pleasure, and she felt his body shiver at her strokes, which she soon started to increase in speed and pressure.

  Still, it was becoming increasingly hard to concentrate, with the force of the joy that was boosting through her system through Jude's relentless stimulation of both her nipple and her clitoris. The opening between her thighs was dripping wet now, and the hot moisture coming out of it was spreading across her inner thighs. She wanted Jude inside her so badly now, and she wanted to tell him this – but when she opened her mouth, the only sound that came out was a low, protracted moan of pleasure.

  That was it; she knew that she would not be able to speak, not until the coming orgasm, which was just around the corner, had erupted. Jude, meanwhile, was panting and gasping now as currents of pleasure rippled through his own syste
m, as Annie continued to pull and tug at his throbbing, steel-hard member.

  Then, Annie's orgasm hit. It felt as if a glorious thunderstorm was erupting inside of her, with its howling winds and beautiful lightning crackling and surging and blasting out from the very center of her being, and firing out its wonderful, bliss-giving electricity to every single nerve ending in her body. She couldn't keep on working Jude's pillar of flesh any longer; all control had left her, and she felt, in this moment of utter, heavenly bliss, that she could no longer control the motion of even a single finger, let alone her whole body.

  However, it was as if Jude could read her mind. All that Annie wanted now, as the orgasm surged and burned its glorious flame within her, was for him to be inside of her. And that wish he fulfilled, sliding his rock-solid length inside of Annie.

  “Oh God, you're so wet... So wet, yet so tight, so amazingly tight,” he gasped as he fed all of his substantial size into her, inch by pleasure-giving inch. As her first orgasm began to fade out, Annie felt the first stirrings of a second one coming along as Jude began his thrusting. In, then out, then in, then out again, at a solid and controlled rhythm – but a rhythm which was increasing steadily in speed as he began to sweat and pant. Now Annie had regained some control of her senses, and she wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him in closer to her. She spread her legs out as wide as they could go, and then moved her body down, so that he could get all of his wonderful length inside of her, burying his flesh sword into her, right up to its hilt, with every forceful stroke.

  She gripped his buttocks, one in each hand, as he hammered her with a now-furious pace. His cheeks down there were, like every other muscle on his body, rock-hard, as if sculpted of cool granite. Now, as his thrusts became ever more vigorous and powerful, Annie felt the waves of a second orgasm coursing through her body. Jude was beginning to thrust at an almost superhuman pace now; never before had Annie experienced such an intensity of penetration as she was currently feeling. And with every rapid- fire thrust, yet another wave of pleasure added to the tsunami that was on the point of being unleashed.