The Tortuous Spell Ch. 02

Her body was shaking in the aftermath of the pleasure he had given her. His body sank into hers and she revelled in the feeling of his weight on her. He groaned and grabbed her body and quickly flipped onto his back pulling her with him to lay on top of him while pulling out of her. She laid her head on his chest and tried to recover her breathing.

"Are you okay?" He finally broke the silence, his deep voice vibrating her ear laying over his chest.

She chuckled. "You've already asked me that, repeatedly."

"I'm serious, Elizabeth. I'm sorry, I -"

"I'm not, John." She sighed. Thankfully he didn't insist on continuing his apology. She didn't know how, nor did she wish to explain the tumultuous emotions that had been happening within her throughout the day. She wasn't sure what she thought about John Davis, but she did know how she felt about him. Hearing his voice after a day of being physically and emotionally drained made her feel a warmth in her chest that was the only positive feeling she had felt the entire day. She felt safe in his arms, whether that was wise of her or not.

"I brought some water and clothing, for you to clean up, if you wish." He said after a while.

While she wanted to just lay still in his arms and prolong the moment as long as possible, the necessity for her to clean herself was becoming a priority. She felt the stickiness between her legs of their combined fluids and blushed, not to mention the blood, sweat, and dirt accumulation of the past two days. She nodded and pulled away from him to sit up, bringing the blanket with her to cover her body, feeling much less brave now that her desire had been sated. He brought a bucket of cold water, soap, and clean cloth to the table then turned his back and allowed her privacy. He cleaned himself as well, removing his shirt in the process. She couldn't help but watch the contracting muscles of his back as he moved.

He had brought her a simple blue wool dress and clean shift, she wasn't sure where he had obtained the clothing but she was grateful for them. He turned around just as she was lacing up the top of the dress.

"Hey, I could have not been clothed yet." she accused.

He shrugged, "I'm only a man, my witch".

She rolled her eyes and pushed away from him. "I don't know how you do this to me."

"Do what?"

"Make me like you so much, and yet be so damnably obnoxious at the same time."

He grinned. "I'm very charming." She laughed despite trying not to further encourage his teasing behaviors.

"Indeed, you seem to have the ability of making me forget I am on trial for my life, long enough to seduce me. Your charm is unquestionable." She said sarcastically.

"Seduce you? That is not how I remember it. You put your hex on me the first moment I laid eyes on you in your brother's house."

"I did not! I am not a witch!" She responded exasperatedly.

"It's not such a bad thing," he walked closer and tilted her chin up to look down at her seriously. "I didn't come here intending for this to happen tonight, but I want you to know that I don't regret it. I'm going to get you out of here. Do you trust me?" He asked the same question he had asked her the night before.

She looked up into his bright green eyes and she decided that internally being at war between her thoughts and emotions was a waste of her precious time. "Yes." she answered wholeheartedly. She would follow her heart and if it led her astray, at least she wouldn't have long to regret her decision.

He smiled down at her and said, "Mine," then kissed her deeply and possessively. She gave herself to him completely, her lips gave where his took. He invaded her mouth like it was his long time home, and she loved it. When he broke off the kiss they both were breathing heavily, her eyes closed.

The entire two days had been utterly unexpected and perplexing. She didn't know that she had the ability to withstand the events that had transpired. It was like she hadn't really known herself at all. She was a newly widowed woman and she had fornicated with a stranger that had personally imprisoned her, with very little persuasion on his part. She frowned at her line of thought, feeling that familiar guilt as she thought of her late husband for the first time since being imprisoned.

"What are you thinking, my sweet?" he asked.

She shook her head to avoid sharing her line of thinking, but he just looked down at her stubbornly. "I'm just not who I thought I was." She answered vaguely.

"Feeling regret yet?" He arched an eyebrow at her.

He thought she felt bad about being intimate with him. He didn't know that it excited and thrilled her, she'd never felt like anything had been more right in her whole life. "I am not a good person."

"Is that a yes?"

"No." She frowned up at him.

"Ah, you're feeling guilty about your husband?" he asked snidely.

She was instantly annoyed that he could see what she didn't want him to and he wasn't taking her feelings about it seriously. "What kind of a woman does these things?" She asked rhetorically. "My husband has not been dead a fortnight and I am lying with a stranger, and I have no regret about it whatsoever. I want it to happen again." She nearly yelled at him.

He looked like he contemplated several paths to continue the conversation from there but ultimately decided on the less teasing one. "Did you love him?" he asked seriously.

"He was my husband."

"That isn't what I asked."

"I-," she paused, "I don't know."

"Elizabeth, you didn't do anything wrong. It's ok that you didn't love him, it's even ok that you don't miss him."

"I - I'm all he had." She frowned, unsure if she could argue that she did miss her late husband, and deciding against it.

"And he was a damn lucky man to have you, but he is gone," he paused and tilted her jaw up with his thumb to look at him, "and you are not."

She smirked sardonically. "Not yet."

His eyes darkened with intensity. "You said you trusted me, trust me." She looked up into his eyes and nodded wordlessly. "We should try and sleep, we are going to need it tomorrow, Gerald will wake us in the morning." She decided against asking him what was on the agenda for tomorrow as she predicted knowing would not be conducive to sleep. She wasn't sure it was something John even knew to tell her, she had the feeling his uncle and him weren't in control of this interrogation as much as she would like. John climbed up onto the mat on the table and pulled her up to lay on top of his body, she fell asleep with her ear pressed against his chest, lulled by his strong heartbeat.