LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
Jillian rolled her eyes as Gavin felt the need to touch her hand again. She was getting a little sick of this petting business and now remembered why she preferred Broderick.
When at first, she had seen Broderick she decided he wasn’t much to look at, not like Gavin. Gavin had a pretty face, almost too pretty to be a man. And he was not as large as Broderick either, nor as attentive. Sure, he came around to seeing things her way after a spell or two, or was it three? She fingered her lip, tracing the bottom, trying to remember. Yes, it was three. Three different spells she tried to get him to fall in love with her and on the last one, she must have gone overboard because he became disgustingly clingy. And not just a little either, which she could have dealt with. But it was terrible. He followed her around like a love-struck puppy dog, and when they made love, (if you could call it that) because she was certainly not in love with him, he was so careful, so gentle as to not hurt her, she wanted to scream. Not with passion mind you, but rather with irritation.
All she had to do was let out one little moan, (a fake one) and Gavin either froze up for fear of hurting her, or he lost what little restraint he had and after one or two delicate thrusts he would lose control. Panting he would roll off her body and after asking her if it was good for her, (where she lied and said yes, of course) he would go to sleep. Not just a soundless sleep—he would snore so loud she couldn’t catch a wink for herself.
For a while, though, after she faked her death, she did fancy one or two times that she may have been a bit hasty in getting away from him and his tender ministrations to her person.
Broderick on the other hand, he liked it rough. When he took her, there was no mistaking whether he was enjoying himself. He was heavy handed too, and would not think twice about knocking her around a bit when she wasn’t acting precisely the way he wanted her too.
Unlike Gavin, it took a bit more to get Broderick going. He made her suckle him, (down there) and would wrap her hair around his hand, moving her head until she was nearly gagging on his length. Then he would flip her over and thrust inside her body before she was even ready for him. Hard and fast is how Broderick liked it, and once he got going there was no stopping him and there was no asking if he was hurting her.
At first, she even believed she may have even enjoyed it a bit, the roughness and the urgency, fumbling hands, moans, groans, gasps and explosive orgasms. Even the shaking of his body when she flattened her hand against his chest as she straddled him. She rode him, hard and fast, just like he wanted and at the time, she wanted that too. She loved the control she had over such a large man, the way he would bend to her will, just for a bit of attention from her.
Even during all this, she had to acknowledge the first few times she was with Broderick she thought she may even be in love with him. He was so nervous, you see, but once he had her, things changed rather quickly.
And instead of her being in control, he turned the tables and was the one who held all cards. If she told him she was not in the mood, (something she did quite often with Gavin and he readily acquiesced) Broderick, however, did not even care. He would laugh and tell her to get on her knees and that if she was lucky he would let her suckle him before he took her.
Needless to say, she acted out and received a slap or two instead because the last thing she wanted was to be choked to death by him as he shoved his length down her throat. When he did this, his musky scent filled her nostrils and the wiry hair surrounding his shaft chaffed her face.
It was during these times that she thought about Gavin and the tenderness he had shown her and this was also when she realized that Gavin was not weak at all, but actually, quite the opposite. He was a strong man, for he was more worried about her pleasure than he was his own.
After one of the more brutal times, she told Broderick she was going to leave him; that he did not pleasure her as he once had.
Unfortunately, that is when she made another mistake in a long list of mistakes.
Broderick was, she supposed, in retrospect, in shock. However, that did not last very long and before she could leave, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her across the room. Broderick was never gentle but this was so much worse. He threw her against the table and jerked her gown up over her head. Still holding her hair, he released himself, and shoved himself forcefully into her body. She suffered through the worst of it, vowing to leave as soon as she could, but then the real beatings started. He cuffed her on the side of the head, making her see white, and as she cried out from pain, he seemed to enjoy himself even more.
Once he was done, which during times like these, never took as long, he would pull out and release his seed on her buttocks.
This seemed to feed a perversion in Broderick she had not seen before. Soon their lovemaking turned more brutal. And when hitting her with his hands wasn’t enough, he used a belt on her bottom and back, making her skin pucker and bleed as he took his pleasure forcefully.
Back then, it seemed her days were filled with tending her wounds, and her nights were filled receiving them again.
Then, the fateful day arrived that Broderick retrieved her from his room (it was more of a dragging) and took her to the loch. Up until that night, she had all but forgotten about Gavin.
Broderick, however, not realizing this, had other ideas. He wanted her to see him kill Gavin and in this, she was nearly glad he would because if not for him and his overtly tender ways, she would have never entertained being with Broderick in the first place.
That is what she thought she wanted, until she saw him with another woman, the one that was here now. And in the moment of watching the love in his eyes for another, (a love that was real and not a result of a spell that she cast) it stirred something deep within Jillian and she vowed she would be the one he looked at with such love and tenderness, again—this of course, was not as easy as she had expected, however. For the Gavin she knew, the one she spelled to make fall in love with her in the first place, was no longer in love with her, nor did she think he ever was, no matter how much she tried to tell herself differently while Broderick was using her body poorly.
The person Gavin loved and would give his life for, was that stupid girl in the cook room at this very moment. And the only thing to change that, as Jillian well knew, was to take her away from him for good.
♦
In the cook room, Paige was attempting to make something edible for Gavin and the men. She tried not to think on making anything for the redheaded bimbo in the hall, the one Gavin was making a spectacle of himself over. If she did, she would be tempted to spit in the food.
After about an hour, Paige was able to prepare a sort of stew from some vegetables the men had in their bags as well as a rabbit they had caught that was somehow already cooked. She had no idea it was from the man in the stables and that they had stolen his food before he had a chance to eat it.
Elvis was revived somewhat from his days of lying around and waited, with his tongue lolling out of his mouth by the table for some scraps that he hoped she would give him.
“I hear you,” she told him, taking the rest of the meat off the bone to dump in the stew. There was some crispy pieces and a few bones, although too small for him to really enjoy. Once she was finished, she dropped the remaining bits on a plate and set it on the floor.
It didn’t take Elvis long to devour it all and once he was done, he looked up at her with hopeful eyes, wagging his tail.
“You may as well stop begging,” she told him. “I don’t have anymore.”
Elvis stopped wagging his tail and walked to the door.
Normally, Paige would be wary to let him out, but since the men were back, she didn’t see any harm in it.
Walking across the room, she wiped her greasy hands on a towel and opened the door for him.
Elvis bounded outside with more energy than she had seen from him in days.
The sky was a blanket of grey and the wind whistled faintly through the pine scented branches of the same tree she had taken a limb from to use for a broom.
Enjoying a moment of fresh air, Paige walked further out. She was just to the path by the tree, when her skin prickled. From experience, she knew this was not a good sign.
Of course, unlike the last time this happened, Elvis was nowhere in sight, having run over the hill to who knew where.
She backed up a bit, trying to get closer to the door without being obvious. Paige didn’t feel particularly frightened, like she had when Broderick was around, but she also didn’t want to take any chances. When she was close enough to the door, she turned around, and ran back inside.