Tale of the Necromancer (Memento Mori 3) - Page 42

When Tomaz laid her down, she felt straw at her back. Opening her eyes, she saw that he had taken them behind a small structure. It was dark and far away from where they might be seen. At least it is not a barn. At least I will not be rutted like an animal surrounded by what I’ve become.

Tears stung her eyes. Fritz knelt at her side and wiped them away. “What wrong, pretty?”

“I am a whore…”

He chuckled. “No. No whore.” He kissed her cheek where he had stroked the tears away. “Not job. Trade. Ours.”

Ours.

A whore with three clients is still a whore.

But I will be free of Gideon. Far, far away from where he could find me. Swallowing the rock in her throat—and her pride—she took in a deep breath, held it, and let it out in a wavering rush.

She nodded.

“I fear I will be a terrible harlot. This is my first time.”

Fritz blinked. “Virgin?”

She nodded.

With a huff of a laugh, he said something to the others under his breath that she didn’t quite catch. But at their expressions, she knew he had relayed the message.

Oskar tutted. “Was für ein Mann verschmäht so eine schöne Frau?”

Smiling, Tomaz nudged her knees apart. She let him kneel between them, and she watched in rapt fascination and nervousness as he placed a hand close to her head to lean down over her. He caught her cheek in his palm.

He kissed her, fiery and passionate. Where Oskar was sweet and tender, invading her mouth like they were in a dance—Tomaz claimed her like they were in a brawl. His tongue tangled with hers.

She moaned against his lips. She couldn’t help it. It was…it was good. When he parted from her, her body felt flush, and her chest was rising and falling faster than it had before. He smiled down at her again, his dark eyes smoldering in lust. “Tja, ich würde sagen—sein Verlust, unser Gewinn...und natürlich ihrer.” He sat back.

Detached, feeling almost as though she weren’t really there, she watched as they undressed her. Tomaz finished unlacing her house dress, and she let them pull it from her. Her underthings followed shortly after.Soon, she was naked before them, lying in the straw. She felt like a foolish peasant girl, lured away by the promise of kindness in exchange for debauchery. And that is what I have become.

Oskar lowered himself to her, and she gasped as he captured one of her nipples in his mouth, worrying it between his teeth, sucking on her as though he were a babe. She whimpered in nervous fear and twisted her hands into the hay beneath her. But matched with it in equal step was…was pleasure. It felt like bliss.

“Shh, shh.” Fritz lay down on his side beside her and turned her to meet his gaze. “Look me.”

“Watch,” she halfheartedly corrected him.

Chuckling, he stroked her cheek. “Watch.”

Tomaz let out a hum from over her. “Wenn wir ihr Deutsch beibringen, haben wir den verführerischsten Übersetzer, den ich je gesehen habe.”

When his hands grasped her knees, she went rigid and let out a squeak of fear. She looked up at Tomaz to see him still kneeling between her bare legs. He was staring down at her sex, a hungry and needy expression consuming him.

And he had freed himself from his pants.

Oh, oh, God above. Oh, God above!

She knew what it meant to make love. She did. Though she had never experienced it herself, the details had not escaped her. She also understood fucking. And that was what this was. It was not love. It was a transaction. She knew what she had implicitly agreed to with them.

But to see him there? Like that? Ready to plunge himself inside her?

Panic broke over her, and she struggled. She shoved Oskar away from her.

“No, no, watch—” Fritz turned her head back to him. “Watch me. Marguerite. We help. We save.”

“Save…” She shivered.

Tags: Kathryn Ann Kingsley Memento Mori Fantasy
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