Sacrifice by A C Cobble

Author:A C Cobble [Cobble, A C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cobble Publishing LLC
Published: 2020-03-30T22:00:00+00:00

He woke up, rested and refreshed.

Confused for a moment, Oliver sat up and found himself in a wide, four-postered bed. It was comfortable, only a silk sheet covering what he quickly realized was his naked body. Beside him was another naked body. Tussled blonde hair and a bare shoulder were the only things visible, but the curves beneath the thin silk sheet hinted at her beauty.

Bright, early morning sunlight was filtering through a curtain over the lone window in the room. He could see a wardrobe, a wash basin, and a pitcher with two cups beside the bed. The rest of the room was as bare as he and the woman. Briefly, he wondered where his clothes were.

The details of the night before were hazy, but he clearly recalled running from what he guessed was Drake’s pirate crew. He remembered Giles leading them to the building he claimed was a witch’s coven. And Oliver vaguely recollected engaging in a stunning variety of sordid activities. They may not have been witchcraft, but he thought some of them might have been illegal.

He smirked at that, studying the blonde woman beside him. In his memory, there had been a girl with jet black hair. Had there been more than one, several?

Evidently feeling him stir, the girl rolled over and smiled up at him. “Good morning, m’lord.”

“How do you know I’m a peer?” he asked.

“You told me last night,” she claimed.

“Did I?” He frowned and ran a hand back over his hair, feeling how long it was, deciding he needed to see the barber whenever he could find a decent one. “Were you… are you…” he stammered, trying to find a tactful way to ask if she’d had black hair several hours before. Instead, he asked, “Are you a witch?”

Grinning, the girl sat up. “That’s about the kindest thing anyone has ever asked me.”

He forced himself to look up at her face. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know how you meant it,” she claimed, bouncing out of the bed and pouring a cup of water from the pitcher.

His gaze was fixed on her trim body.

“Water?” she asked.

“I, ah, yes,” he replied.

“I wasn’t sure if that was why you were staring at me so hard,” she teased. “Most men, after a night like the last one, can barely open their eyes except to complain about their heads and shout for coffee.”

“Coffee,” he mumbled, “that would be nice.”

“After,” she said, holding up the water to his mouth.

He drank, and a dribble of water leaked down his chin.

She sat the cup back down on the table and offered, “Let me get that for you.”

Pushing him back onto the bed, she climbed on top of him, kissing his wet chin, then working her way down lower.

“No, I…”

“You paid to have me for twelve turns of the clock,” said the girl, looking up from where she hovered above his bare chest. “I don’t want your sterling to go to waste.”

His head fell back on the pillow and he tried to think, to remember, but in moments, all thoughts but those of the girl fled his head.

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