Lacybourne Manor

Chapter Ten Perfect Fit

Marian was not cheerful when she entered her house after Colin brought her home.

Marian was frightened.

What she witnessed outside the restaurant was no accident; it was not an impatient driver.

It was something else.

She’d followed Colin and Sibyl there and she’d been watching the restaurant (in between bouts of doing her grocery list and writing a letter to a friend) for over an hour. She saw the car drive up, she noticed that it didn’t park or turn off its motor but she didn’t know it was waiting to run down her precious charges.

She did know it was a black BMW although she had not seen the driver (who never exited the car), if it was a man or a woman and she did not note the number plate.

She’d let down the side.

Marian should have been watching carefully, she should have had her eyes peeled for anything, however, she had no idea that dark soul would make a move so soon.

It had been only at the last second, when she felt the malevolence, that she used some of her cheapest magic and blinked her eyes to light the headlamps of the car in warning to the couple. If she hadn’t, likely the two, who both seemed deep in thought, would have been mowed down.

Marian herself had no idea of the state of play between Colin and Sibyl. Sibyl had been pretty adamant about her feelings regarding Mr. Morgan a few days before at breakfast (these feelings were that he was a raving madman). Marian was relatively certain that they were still in combat mode from what she saw in her crystal ball. She was pleased as punch that they seemed to be out on a date though Colin’s stony face was a bit unwelcoming, that wasn’t exactly unheard of with Mr. Morgan and Sibyl looked bemused, poor girl.

But that car had been waiting for them and aiming at them with the desire to run at least Sibyl, but likely both of them, down.

Marian was going to have to work faster. She was going to have to get some charms together to protect both Lacybourne and Brightrose. She’d likely have to do something to protect both their cars. And she needed to get to work on some potions that took time to mature, just in case she needed them. On top of all this, she was going to have to be very vigilant.

She really hoped that Mr. Morgan was the charmer that many of the National Trust volunteers gossiped to her that he was. He was going to have to make swift work of it with Sibyl.

Why Colin didn’t tell Sibyl about the ill-fated lovers, Marian could not understand. Sibyl’s kind heart would have melted straight away.

He didn’t though and she was willing to give him his lead, for awhile.

But if this dragged on, and they didn’t realise they were destined for each other, destined to fall in love and then consummate it after that realisation, they were in big trouble.

Sibyl woke up, aroused.

Not just aroused, highly aroused.

And the reason for this was a light touch at the skin of the small of her back, an area always sensitive, an area that no lover had ever truly discovered or, when they did, made appropriate use of.

Until now.

She was on her side, facing the fireplace, away from Colin, and her eyes fluttered open.

She could feel the heat of his body even though only his fingers were touching her, drawing delicate figure eights and zig zags on the small of her back, dipping tantalisingly every once in awhile to her bottom.

This light touch caused waves of glorious sensation to shoot down the insides of her thighs, up her back and zoom straight between her legs.

“Are you awake?” Colin’s husky voice sounded in her ear.

She nodded her head against the pillow and could only say, “Mm hmm.”

She did this because didn’t trust her voice. She was about to whirl and attack him. She clamped her legs together and tried to think unsexy thoughts but the pulsating heat between her legs made this task impossible.

He kissed her shoulder lightly.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Oh goddess, he knew, he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

“Fine,” she muttered but the word was shaky.

His body moved closer, his hand at the small of her back flattened, smoothing over her bottom and she felt a sense of relief that he was going to stop. Then it started its distracted figure eights and zig zagging again.

Her body tensed.

“Tell me about it,” Colin encouraged.

“About what?” Sibyl answered quickly, confused and wondering what he meant. Did he want her to explain how it felt, what he was doing to her?

“About your dream,” Colin murmured in her ear, using his stubble-roughened chin to move the heavy hair away from her cheek.

“What dream?” she whispered, her mind not processing anything but the fact that her bones had melted to water and her blood had heated at least one hundred and fifty degrees. Even her breasts had swelled and were aching for his touch, though he hadn’t even so much as looked at them.

She was beginning to panic.

Did he know about her dream man? Did he know about her idea of one true love?

“Your nightmare last night,” he answered and went on. “It’s all right, Sibyl, it’s over, it’s daylight now and you can talk to me about it,” he assured her gently.

Even the reminder of the horrible nightmare didn’t distract her from what his hand was doing. The nightmare was the same one she’d had over a week ago, before meeting him.

Her body continued to react to what she realised now was what he intended to be a soothing touch, though it very much was not.

“Colin?” she asked, and she heard the tremor going through his name.

She had wanted to ask him to stop, but his lips were close to her ear and he mumbled a vibrating, “Mm?” and, already aroused, the sound of it thundered through her and she was done.

Before she could stop herself (or even think of stopping herself), she whipped around, pushed him on his back and attacked him.

She manoeuvred her body, swinging her leg over his hips to straddle him and before he had a chance to react, she leaned into him, tilted her head and kissed him, hard.

She didn’t even try to be gentle. She was primed and ready for him.

Now.

Her mouth opened, as did his, her tongue darted inside and she moaned just tasting him.

Goddess, even first thing in the morning, just like always, Colin tasted divine.

He, to her extreme pleasure, immediately deepened the kiss

Tearing her mouth away, she realised his hands had settled on her waist. She rained kisses on his eyes, his cheeks, sliding her tongue down the column of his throat to dip it into the space between his jutting collar bones. She felt his hands slide up her sides then in to her back then they separated, one going up between her shoulder blades, one down to cup her bottom, all the while scorching a lazy trail of fire.

She dragged her lips down his chest then she ran her teeth across his nipple while one of her hands went between their bodies to wrap around him and she was thrilled beyond rationality that he was already hard.

She heard his sharp intake of breath.

“Sibyl,” this was a groan but she was beyond responding.

She lurched up, releasing him and running her fingers down his arm, pulling it away from her until she found his hand and as she did she kissed him, again ravenous. She wanted to devour him, her body was on fire for him, and she kissed him hard and hungry as she pressed his hand between her legs, whimpering as his fingers slid against her wet, sensitive flesh.

“I want you, Colin,” she whispered against his mouth, “now.”

The minute he touched her wetness, he understood. Then she watched his lips form a deeply satisfied, even smug, smile. While they did this, he slid a finger inside her.

“Thanks be to the goddess,” she breathed and closed her eyes in rapture as his finger filled her.

At her words, the finger disappeared and he flipped her on her back in one smooth move. Parting her legs expertly, Colin didn’t hesitate, he drove into her.

Sibyl cried out at the ecstasy of it.

Even though it had been only minutes since they started, it felt like she’d waited an eternity for him. She lifted her hips to receive his thrusts as she wrapped her arms about his waist, holding onto his tight, muscled behind for dear life, her nails digging in. She buried her face in his neck, tasting him there while one of his arms curled around the top of her head, giving him leverage to pound into her, harder and deeper.

It was glorious.

“Yes,” she purred in his ear. “Harder.” She nipped him there and her hips lifted to meet every thrust, each one deeper, sending spirals of desire shooting through her.

He stopped thrusting and started grinding and she caught her breath, ready, right there.

She knew it was going to happen, she knew it was going to be intense, beautiful, like always with Colin, and, right before she exploded, she whispered reverently, “Goddess, Colin, you fit me… perfectly.”

Then she gasped, arched her neck and cried out as everything in the world but the space where their bodies joined was obliterated and she felt the shudders of pleasure course through her with pure, sweet violence.

So consumed was she in her own climax, she missed his but vaguely noted he’d wrapped her legs around his waist in his final moments.

After they both came down, still deep inside her, Colin gave her his weight and both of them lay panting and speechless.

Finally, he came up on his forearms and looked down at her.

“That’s quite a way to combat a morning mood.” His voice was low, sexy and rough with residual desire and his handsome face was soft with approval.

As the last waves of pleasure subsided, she felt them immediately replaced with acute embarrassment.

What on earth was she thinking?

More to the point, what was she doing?

She’d just attacked him!

She closed her eyes and turned her face away at the same time she tried to push him off by pressing against his chest. It was one thing for him to buy her body and an entirely other thing for her to attack his.

Goddess, she was a raving wanton! What must he think?

She needed to escape.

She pressed against his chest harder.

He didn’t move.

“Sibyl,” he called.

“Colin,” she said to the wall, her eyes still closed, “Please get off me.”

He still didn’t move.

“Sibyl, look at me,” he demanded.

She shook her head but his hand came to her face and forced her to do as he said.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered.

She did and hers were filled with rebellion mixed with a good dose of humiliation.

“What just happened?” he seemed to see only the rebellion and she knew this because his voice was still low, sexy and rough but his face was no longer soft with approval but his eyes were intense with scrutiny.

“You were touching me,” she explained, her tone accusing, deciding her best course of action was to place blame quite squarely on his very broad shoulders.

“Touching you, yes, seducing you, no. What just happened?”

She shook her head.

“Sibyl,” he was using his smooth, even voice that meant he was close to losing his cool.

“I told you, you were touching me,” she repeated.

He waited but the expression on the hard planes of his face told her it wasn’t patiently.

Sibyl, again, obviously had no choice but to give him what he wanted.

“In a very sensitive spot,” she admitted reluctantly.

At her words, he looked startled. She should have been pleased at that but instead she felt all the more embarrassed.

“A very sensitive spot,” she stressed.

He simply stared at her but the intensity in his eyes was quickly fading to something much less hard and far warmer.

“I get somewhat,” she hesitated, fighting for the right words, “Out-of-control if someone touches me there for any length of time.”

“Does this happen often?” Completely gone was the intensity and in its place was something entirely satisfied and more than a touch amused.

“Never quite like this,” she confessed, his hand on her face had relaxed and she looked away again. “But no one else had done it so,” she hated to say it but there it was, “well.”

He kissed the exposed line of her throat (but not before, out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of his mouth twitching) and he murmured against her skin, “I’ll have to remember that.”

“I shouldn’t have told you.”

He lifted his head and, there it was, right there in front of her, his lips were twitching. “You don’t think I would have discovered it eventually?”

“No one else has,” she informed him, straightening her head to look at him again.

And that was when she saw his eyes start dancing with hilarity, absolutely dancing. At that look she lost all embarrassment and became instantly grumpy.

“Then they weren’t very good at it, I’d already suspected. You jump and moan every time I touch you there,” Colin told her.

Sibyl grunted with ill-humour.

“Or lift your ass to meet my hand,” he continued informatively. “I was already intrigued.”

“Thanks Colin,” she gritted between her teeth. “You can stop talking now. I think I have the picture.”

He grinned at her before his head dropped to nuzzle her neck.

Then he suggested, “Let’s talk about your dream now, shall we?”

Her body went rigid.

She could not, under any circumstances, tell him about her dream.

She could provide an entire list, even in writing (if he were to require) of every sensitive spot on her body (behind her ears, the skin underneath her breasts, and so on).

But she could not tell him about her dream. She could not tell him she’d seen him in her subconscious before she’d ever even met him. He’d think she’d lost her mind.

This meant she was going to have to lie to him.

And Sibyl hated lying. It wasn’t a very nice thing to do and she wasn’t at all good at it. One could get caught up in lies but Sibyl always got caught up in them. She was too absentminded to remember what she’d said, she always had been.

“It was nothing,” she muttered, trying to blow it off.

“It was enough for you to kick me, rather forcefully, in the shin and drive you from the bed and the across the room.”

Her eyes rounded at this news. “I kicked you?”

Colin nodded.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Surprised me, I was dead asleep when it happened.”

Without her volition, her hand went to rest on his waist.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly and she meant it.

His body became quite still as he watched her face. He seemed captivated by something there, so much so he was lost in whatever it was.

“Colin?” His body jerked at her calling his name and his eyes cleared.

“Tell me about it,” he commanded, his voice now strangely husky.

“What?” she asked.

“The dream,” he persisted, rather annoyingly, Sibyl thought.

“I said it was nothing.”

“Tell me,” he urged.

“I’d rather not. I don’t want to think about it,” she demurred, beginning to get panicky.

And anyway, why, exactly, did he want to know so badly?

“Sibyl, tell me.” The huskiness had vanished and he was lapsing into his smooth, angry voice again and she decided he was not going to let it go.

So she gave in, in a way. “I’ve had it before. It’s just… not nice.”

“Yes?” he prompted.

“In it, I’m sleeping.” Her mind was racing, she was going to have to make something up and decided, in case it came up in the future, or she dreamed it again and kicked him or hurt him in some other way (which she hoped she never did, indeed, she hoped never to have the awful dream again), she would remember what she said. “Peacefully, alone… I mean, by myself, sleeping by myself… all alone…”

“Go on,” he prompted when she’d trailed off, his eyes assessing. “You were alone, by yourself, sleeping.”

Sibyl nodded. “Then someone, or it feels like more than one person, I never see them, they don’t have faces, drags me out of bed and they slit my throat. That’s it.”

“Christ,” he swore immediately after she finished speaking, dropping to his side and taking her with him. Once there, he pulled her deep into his body and repeated, “Christ.”

She tipped her head back to look at him, feeling guilty at her white lie and somewhat surprised (in a funny, happy way) at his reaction. He seemed so concerned, it was almost touching (well, it was actually very touching but she didn’t want to consider that).

He dipped his chin to look at her.

“Last night, you touched and kissed my throat. Why?”

Oh goddess, she’d forgotten she’d done that.

“I don’t know,” she fibbed for she bloody well did know. “Maybe just a spontaneous reaction. I was kind of out of it at the time.”

He was watching her closely, very closely and she was fairly certain he knew she was lying. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out, she was the worst liar.

“That’s all?” he asked, his voice showing his doubt.

She thought it best not to utter another word so she nodded.

He seemed to decide to let it go and tucked her head under his chin as his hands roamed her back. This she found soothing, even though she still felt guilty for lying to him.

“Do you want breakfast?” she asked against his throat, wishing to be on another subject.

“What?” he queried distractedly.

“Breakfast,” she forced her head back and he again dipped his chin to look at her. She noticed he looked lost in thought and she explained teasingly, “You know, the first meal of the day. The most important meal of the day. Breaking your fast. The French call it petit dejeuner. The Spanish call it desayuno.”

He awarded her one of his fabulous grins and, at the sight of it, Sibyl felt her entire body relax and warm.

“I know what breakfast is,” he told her, his voice low and effective.

“Would you like some?”

“I’ve got to take a shower and get to the office.”

For some reason, Colin’s announcement made Sibyl feel a vague sense of disappointment.

Well, if she was honest, not all that vague. It was more like a keen sense of disappointment.

She hid it by pushing her face into his throat again and then she worked with every ounce of strength in her to push the disappointment aside.

This, she had to remember, was a temporary arrangement. He’d paid for this, paid for her.

This was not boyfriend and girlfriend having a morning quickie and an affectionate chat.

This was not that at all.

And with those thoughts firmly (kind of) planted in her brain, she whispered against his skin, “I need to take Mallory for his morning walk.”

Then she shoved away from him and started to leave the bed but he caught her forearm.

Half in, half out of bed, Sibyl looked back at him.

“I’ll be back tonight,” he told her, his grin gone, he was watching her and she felt as if he could see passed everything, straight to her heart.

“Same time?” she asked and the words made her feel wrong. They made her feel like what she was to him, a word she was not allowed to say but she should never allow herself to forget.

“Yes,” he replied.

She nodded and with a rough movement jerked her arm away. She had to get away from him, now. She could get lost in him, she knew, especially when he turned into sweet, teasing Colin. When he was like that, Sibyl could start pretending that this was more than it was and she mustn’t ever do that.

Ever.

She snatched her robe off the hook on the back of the door, shrugged it on, grabbed some clothes and ran out of the room.

She dressed in the bathroom.

Then, with effort, throughout her errand of the morning, she kept her mind carefully blank.

After she arrived back from Mallory’s walk, Colin was gone.