Destiny's End

Chapter 5: Warrick-2

One of our grooms was still awake when I rode Monte up to the stable door. “I’ll take him, Mr Warrick.”

“Thanks, Alfie.” I dismounted and handed him the reins.

“Been to see Miss Meggie?”

“Just to say goodbye. She’s a fine lass.”

“Aye, she is.”

“Take good care of Monte.” It would be a long time before I saw him again.

“I will, sir. Good night.”

“Good night.”

I knew at that time of night Thorny Walk would be locked up—Mother’s little punishment for me riding out when she’d wanted me at her side all evening—but that didn’t worry me. A large oak tree grew outside my window, and I’d learned early to climb down its height to escape the cold, cutting words my parents would toss at each other, sharper than any blade. Earlier that evening, I’d left my window unlatched. Mother never checked to see if I was in my bed, and the servants never came to that level once the bedchambers had been prepared for the night.

I leapt to catch the first branch and then scrambled up the rest of the way.

The window slid up quietly, and I swung a leg over the casement. I decided to leave the window open to let the late summer breeze in. I stripped off my clothes and folded them carefully. Our boxes had already been picked up by the train station’s luggage cart earlier in the day, so I’d pack them away in a valise, along with the items I’d need for our London stay. Mother had informed me earlier in the day that we’d be stopping in Town for a few days before travelling on to Liverpool.

Those clothes would have to serve as a memory of Thomas until I could return to him.

I stretched and ran a hand down my body to cup my c**k and balls. I’d wash myself in the morning, but for now I’d keep Thomas’s scent on me for as long as I could.

I yawned so hugely the hinges of my jaw almost locked and took a step toward my bed.

Suddenly I realised I wasn’t alone, and I whirled around to see the gypsy Nicolae standing just inside the window.

“What are you doing here? How dare you?” I took a step toward him, expecting him to back away—I was the taller, after all—but he just stood there, looking me over from top to toe.

It occurred to me I was naked, and I covered my private parts, blushing when I realised how ineffectual that was.

He continued to look me over. His eyes, which had seemed so mundane when I’d first met him, now glowed golden, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from them. My mouth went dry, and I found myself leaning toward him.

He stalked toward me, and I shivered.

“You will not cry out, little brother.”

“N-no.”

“I have no wish to hurt you,” he continued. “But if you make a sound you will leave me no choice. Do not do that.” His forceful words aroused me as nothing had, and I began panting. He grinned, spun me around, and pushed me onto the bed.

He kept me in position with negligent ease, the weight of his body pressed to my upper back.

There was a rustling as he opened his trousers with his free hand. I shivered as I felt his c**k prod my anus, and I tried to buck him off. Even though I was roused by his actions, I needed to fight him. When that proved unsuccessful, I bit at his hand. He wound his fingers in my hair and yanked.

“Cease,” he snarled. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

I moaned. If I wouldn’t permit Thomas, whom I cared for above all things, do this, how could this gypsy think I’d hold still for him buggering me?

He had the advantage of me, though, and all I succeeded in doing was wear myself out, while he pushed me deep into the bed. The angle resulted in my feet inches off the floor, keeping me helpless as he shoved past the ring of muscle. He must have prepared himself before he’d set out to do this deed—he achieved maximum penetration with minimal discomfort, but he was big…oh God, so big. I whimpered as he stretched me, filling me to the point of pain, but somehow filling me to the point of pleasure, too.

I was helpless, at his mercy, and I relished it. After all, even if my face hadn’t been buried in the pillows, how could I cry out for help now, when I would be found like this?

“You didn’t let that other one have you.” He grunted in satisfaction.

I didn’t answer, but how could he know that?

“I am sorry, little brother. This is the way it must be.”

For a split second I understood, and the future was revealed to me—somehow different from what Syeira had promised. Then the shroud of forgetfulness descended once more, and all I knew was this moment. No, he wasn’t sorry, and no, this wasn’t the way it had to be. It was the way Nicolae wanted it to be.

“I’m going to make you spend, just from my c**k in your arse. And you’re going to love it and beg me to do it again.”

Was he right? I didn’t want to think so, but my hard c**k made me think he might be. Still, I tried to fight, tried to buck him off again, but it only drove him deeper. He reached beneath me, caught my testicles, and gave them a squeeze that bordered on the painful.

“None of that,” he said, his tone gravely. “I would have made this pleasant for you, but now you’ll accept how I give it to you.”

Yes! I loved his tone, I loved how he bent me to his will. If Thomas had ever spoken to me like that, would I have had the same reaction? My c**k was so hard it ached, and I thrust mindlessly against the coverlet.

And then the gypsy did something, and all thoughts of my Thomas vanished as my c**k swelled.

I had no thought to be ashamed, just as I lost all thought of avoiding his thrusts and instead rocked back against him. The gypsy settled back on his haunches and brought me up onto my knees. He constantly targeted that spot within me, and my c**k grew hard, harder than it had ever been with Thomas, and leaked copious amounts of precome. This time when he reached beneath me, he handled my balls gently. I panted and whined as he pushed me closer to my climax.

With a growl, he thrust forward one more time, and then held himself still. I could feel his liquid heat pouring into me, filling me, and I trembled. An odd fancy occurred to me—if I’d been female, this act would have seen me bred. I buried my head in the bed’s covers and surrendered to his mastery over my body.

When he was finished, he pulled out of me and turned me onto my back. Although my c**k was smeared with precome, I hadn’t spent, and I shivered and whimpered. His golden gaze held mine and seemed to burn in the dark of my room.

“Stubborn gadje. You think to make a liar of me?” He leaned forward and dipped his tongue into my foreskin, something Thomas hadn’t known to do, and I cried out, but he still didn’t give me any satisfaction. He ran his tongue around the head of my c**k and tugged hard, then folded his tongue into a point and dipped it into the slit.

I thrashed my head back and forth on my pillow, and he growled once more, the vibration of the sound driving me closer to climaxing.

Then he pulled off.

“No. Please. Don’t stop!”

His laugh was triumphant, but I couldn’t find it in me to resent it. In fact, that was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted…needed…more.

He ran his tongue from the base of my c**k to the crown, took it between his lips, and set to work with a strong suction.

I panted and wrapped my legs around him, determined to keep him close to me. He laughed again as he shoved two meaty fingers into my arse. My internal muscles spasmed around those fingers, and he continued f*****g me with them while he sucked my orgasm from me. Unlike Thomas, I’d always been silent when climaxing, but now I had to bite the heel of my hand to muffle my cry of completion.

The gypsy removed his fingers from my body and wiped them and the remains of his own climax on the bed covers before he did up his trousers. He hadn’t even bothered to strip them off.

And I found that wildly arousing.

He pulled me up to him, and I was certain he would try to kiss me. I raised my face to his, and while he tightened his hold on me, he didn’t kiss me.

“Nicolae?”

I was emotionally exhausted, powerless, and incapable of struggling out of his grasp, although I had no desire to. He lowered his head, and I waited for him to brush his lips over the spot where neck and shoulder joined. Instead, he sank his teeth into the muscle of my shoulder.

The pained scream that should have come out of my mouth was little more than a pathetic yelp. I stared at him in abject horror, almost overwhelmed by the pain but unable to do a thing to stop him.

Yet when he raised his head there was no blood smeared over his lips. I forced myself to look at my shoulder, at the horrible wound that should have shredded it, to find only a rapidly fading scar.

“What…what did you do?”

“I’ve marked you as mine.” He touched my shoulder. “When this returns—when you’re able to count each tooth mark—then you will know it’s time for your destiny to be fulfilled.”

“What destiny? What are you talking about? I’m leaving England,” I protested weakly.

“But you will be back.” He got to his feet and extended his hand toward my face. I flinched away from his fingers, and irritation filled his eyes. He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed until he forced my lips to part. Then he lowered his mouth to mine, and bit at my lips and tongue.

Finally, he tossed me aside and made his way to the window.

“Why, Nicolae?” I wiped away the blood on my mouth, feeling almost nauseous. “Why did you do this to me?”

“We have been tied together on the wheel of life. I’m yours. You are mine. Protest it as much as you want.” He glanced back from the window before he stepped out into the night. “It has been seen in your palm.”

What was he talking about? I stared at my palm, but I could see nothing of any significance beyond the tooth marks I myself had placed there in order to keep silent.

I went to the window and looked out, but there was nothing but the night. I pulled down the sash and latched it, not that it would do any good—the damage had already been done.

How had the gypsy made me wild for his c**k? What had made me willing to betray Thomas?

Tears streamed down my cheeks. When I left England, my body would take, not the scent of my best friend submitting to me, but of this gypsy who had plundered my back passage so thoroughly, who had made me submit to him.

I wouldn’t go to bed smelling of the gypsy, though. I poured tepid water into the bowl on the washstand, wet and soaped a flannel, and then I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed.