Untamed {Mature Reading}

Chapter XI

Bianca's body burned all night long. She tossed and turned beneath her furs trying to get rid of the ache that throbbed between the meeting of her thighs. The mounts of her breasts ached as if they were silently screaming out for Callum's touch. It was an awakening and a death all in one.

This is what it is like, she thought as she let out a strangled groan of frustration. This is what it is like to desire another.

She had heard whispers that had been shared by a fire with giggles and knowing smiles. Women and girls, old and young who had all felt the need to be wanted, touched. Bianca had always felt like a traitor to her gods for even showing the briefest of curiosity. She had never known a touch that could unravel her so.

It was not yet fully light when Bianca tossed away the furs.

There was a restlessness about her that Bicana could not shake. A strange energy that coiled and unfurled in her veins. She didn't know what to do with herself as she paced along the length of her room, the rough stone underfoot scraping at her soles. Her blood was heated with this new need, her mind constantly relaying the shared kiss over and over. She could think of little else, her stomach doing a strange dance inside of her as a mixture of excitement and embarrassment warred within her

She had never kissed a man before, never had felt such things. Perhaps it was the god's cruel joke that she was to desire the very man who had destroyed so much of her life. Had it not been a part of the prophecy? That she was to suffer at soft hands to her body?

Bianca tried to think of Callum's hands as soft, the large bear-like paws rough with callouses, but could not fit them into the mold. Her body also felt anew with need, but it did not seem to be suffering in any other way.

She wanted to see him, but the thought of Miss Grey and her father stilled her. No, no -  of course she couldn't see him. He was destined to marry another. A fairer girl, a lady. One fit for a Laird. Not some wanton priestess with no people and a prophecy hanging over her head.

You should be thinking about how to serve the gods, her mind chastised. Not how you can serve that beast of a man.

She could tend to the horses or help out in the kitchens, but the idea of being around people put her at ill-ease.

Bianca dressed quickly, however she did study herself a little longer in the looking glass than she would normally. Her hair was an array of russet curls, eyes bright and feverish. Her pale gold cheeks were alive with colour, flushed with an emotion she was new to.

She did not have the fancy and elaborate dresses like Miss Grey had. There was little to flatten her body, to lift and accentuate areas. She was plain, ordinary, if not for her eyes, which were a clear pale grey of a coming storm. Perhaps the only feature that could make her seem different, somewhat interesting.

When there was little else to do to improve her appearance, Bianca turned away from the looking glass and slipped out of her chambers.  

There was no purpose to where she walked but her feet took her to the library she had gone in her first night, the same library where she swore she saw a glimpse of humanity in Callum's eyes. Maybe wanted to believe that there was something behind the kiss that they shared, maybe she wanted to believe that the goddess of death and war had it all wrong. 

"There you are," 

Bianca turned to see a harassed looking Moira, her pale cheeks blushed with excision. Bianca slowed her pace, watching curiously as the girl stopped before her. "I've been looking everywhere for you," The redhead continued. "Yer meant to be assisting the Lady today." Moira's gaze swept over Bianca and a brow arched. "The Laird himself ordered so." 

Something in Bianca's heart sank at the thought but she nodded in acceptance. 

"C'mon," Moira muttered. "Her Ladyship is not one ter wait." The way Moira had spoken her words gave Bianca the impression that the maid did not have much of an opinion of the future Lady Lockhart.