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Devil By Daylight [Vinaein/Mim]

Just had a passing interest in family history, his eyebrow raising slightly as he heard Isla's explanation. "I see," he said. He came from a mixture of English, Scottish, Welsh and Irish himself, perhaps more from outside of the British Isles but he had little capacity to pursue such genealogical records at the moment. "It is a beautiful home," he said. "I am glad you inherited it, even if the circumstances were far from fortuitous...never have I encountered a crop of potatoes."

His frown deepend when she mentioned the woods, his eyes locking close to hers. "What sort of 'nasty things?' He asked. Superstition was common, but Isla's calm rationality did not escape him. "I had no plans to hunt here anyways, but I would appreciate knowing what I may or may not encounter here...are these legends, or are they confirmed? Is witchcraft suspected in- " he paused and a wry smile closed on his face. "...I regret to say habits die hard. I shall leave it for the moment," he added. "I've seen more than one dark wood become a legend unto itself..." that was true. He had tracked his foes into those woods before, more than once. But when Isla mentioned the five...

"I have never burnt an innocent," he said, harsher than he intended. "Never. Never ONCE. I have stood up to charades, frauds and charlatans who had accused those women of which you speak, exposed those who would've used petty rivalries as their excuses to murder their neighbors and townspeople. There are men and women of justice in the world, Isla, but I am only certain in what I have seen with my own eyes. Those who I had slain had carved up the unbaptized to store their fat to fly, devoured innocent flesh, sowed plague ans sacrificed innocent men and women...in the name of the King of Ravens, my fight is against evil..." he could not tell her of the witches he had SPARED, not now.

"...we all ahve our experiences," he finished quietly.
 
Isla shrugged when Justin asked about the woods. "The fair folk may've walked out of England with the King, but there's still plenty here," she said. "Fae aren't uncommon. Neither are bodachs, and both are known to spirit a body away. Fachans will just beat the ever-lovin' shite outta ye, I've heard. Then of course there's kelpies to lure the unwary into the river, and willow-the-whisps to lead them off the paths. And, of course, there's the Nac Mac Feegle." She shuddered. Witches were among the very few things that Feegles feared, but she'd still hate to cross one down a dark alleyway. Typically she left out a dram of whiskey at the full moon and they called it squares. She looked at Justin seriously. "Magic may've ridden out of England with the old King, Justin, but it's alive and well here. And far wilder than an Englishman might like to believe."

But she seemed to have touched a nerve when she suggested that he may have burned an innocent or two. Isla listened patiently as he listed all of the atrocities he had seen, pressing her lips into a thin line. "And I've killed a bairn and cursed my neighbor's boy to gain the upper hand in a land dispute," she reminded him tersely. "Sometimes plague is just plague."

"...We all have our experiences," he finished quietly.

She nodded once. "Aye, that we do," she returned. "You seek justice for your lost love one. I seek justice for the lost innocent of my village. When plague took my Will and Mistress Aching I could've cried witchcraft, but I didn't. Wouldn't. Sometimes bad things happen to good people, and there's no reason for it, and that's what folk around here don't seem to understand." Isla sighed. For a moment all was still and quiet, then suddenly she rose to go stir the stew to give herself something to do. "So is there a Mrs. Crowe?" she asked, changing the topic suddenly, unwilling to invite a witch killer into a quarrel under her own roof and give him more excuse to suspect her. "Or some sweetheart somewhere? Or do I have cause to hope that all that flirting in the church wasn't in vain?" She smirked over her shoulder at him. "Very sinful indeed. Matthew 5:28, sir." Even the Devil could quote scripture to suit his own purpose, and Isla's eyes twinkled playfully as she winked at him. It had, after all, been such a very long time, and she was certain William wouldn't mind. Cernunnos was a different matter altogether...but he could be dealt with. He was not the God of Abraham; his wrath could be allayed.
 
"Fair Folk indeed," Justin scowled. "I've never seen one of them," he said. "I've never encountered a kelpie, nor a Nixy, nor a 'Bean Sidhe.' No Leanansidhe has ever given me inspiration. The Fay have long since departed these lands, Isla Catanach," he said firmly. Though there was a lack of conviction behind his words, truly. He had seen those, after all who could be named as Witches...he knew full well that they had tapped into deeper powers, old and deeper magics than should be possible. "People draw upon them to explain natural phenomenon and deny what is about them...they blame the Fae as a thief might blame wolves. Even if wolves were an endangered thing in England since long ago. He tried to settle down now. "Of course, much of my time has been spent in cities. Perhaps the Fair Folk do not think me worth their time?" He added with a sardonic smile.

He calmed himself. Immensely now, taking deeper breaths. "Sometimes a plague is a plague. But tell that to some of your neighbors. The superstitious are quick to cast fingers about themselves, aren't they? Obviously I know you did not harm children. I fancy myself a decent judge of character and you hardly seem the sort for it. As for what I seek...justice indeed. Of a sort." He did not seem inclined to elaborate for the moment. "You are a rational woman...and no, there is no Mrs. Crowe. I've never found time to take a wife." Nor inclination, truth be told. "And...flirting in the...in the house of..." He remembered her naked body, the freckles all over, the way her breasts...

Damn it, he was blushing now! He turned his head away. Damn this vexing woman! He thought it in irritation, taking a breath. "You are taking the scriptures from context, madam!" He snapped. ...was she flirting or merely trying to bedazzle him? Tease him a touch? "...I appreciate your hospitality," he tried to add, focusing on his drink.

"Have you any plans for the evening?" He tried to change the subject. Perhaps that was...not the finest thing he might have asked at the moment
 
"Mmm," Isla nodded. "And because you've never seen them means they don't exist." Her voice was thick with sarcasm as he tried to explain away the things she knew were in the woods. He pointed out that he spent most of the time in cities and she nodded. "Aye, many of those things stay in the country, away from the noise and the people; most of them seem to just want to be let alone. But if truly you wish to test it, then by all means," she gestured toward the window that faced the trees on the edge of her property, "go to the woods and take what is theirs. See you in six hundred years."

But she changed the subject. Isla had had enough cause to quarrel for one day, and it grew tiring. She reminded him of the words of his Christ, that since he had very clearly lusted after her in his heart it was as bad as having already done with it. Justin blushed, which in turn made her giggle. Then he accused her of taking scripture out of context, which made her laugh more.

"Oh am I?" she teased. "Out of the context of shared sin? Well that is something!" Justin tried to turn the conversation again...by asking her what she planned on doing for the evening. Isla couldn't help it, she laughed harder. In better times, she was quick to laugh. "Am I taking scripture from context, or tempting you to disobey it?" she teased, shaking her head. "Well I had planned on dancing naked in the moonlight in the woods, but since there's a witchfinder come to town I suppose I'll have to think of something else to do." It was an honest answer, but said in such a tone that she might be having a lark. "After supper I had thought to knit, or perchance to read. I've some books on the shelf." She took the opportunity she hadn't had earlier to point out her shelf of books. It was a little difficult to see, however, in the gloaming. "You're good with fire," she said after a moment, "build us one in the hearth, will you? It'll be good to do it now, allow it to build, so that way when it dies down it'll be the middle of the night and you'll not be so cold. And what were your plans?"

As Justin moved to build the fire, she lit some candles from the fire in the stove and set them on the table that they might see their meal. Carefully she ladled stew into two bowls and brought them over before pouring them each another couple fingers of whiskey. The whiskey was strong stuff, and she had to admit to being a little light-headed...but a good, hearty chowder ought to help that. Isla smiled and nodded, digging in without saying grace.

"Be honest," she instructed. "I can't do things better next time if you're not honest. And if you're to stay here two months, there's sure to be a next time."
 
"Mmm..." Justin considered it as he watched her. "You put great stock in stories, Isla Catanach," he said. "If I stumbld against your beliefs, it was unintentional...the countryside has the fortune of departure from centralized politics. Nobody in this village need worry on about the going ons in Edinburgh, nor in London, nor the belligerence of the Spanish..." He looked to the woods with a sigh. "...I believe enough not to challenge them," he said in a quiet tone. "If that will satisfy you. That currently seems my main concern," he was likewise tired of quarreling. Damned if Isla didn't fancy how knowledgeable she was about this whole place. He had no desire to battle with a host on it...

He fought away his blush, glowering daggers at the woman before him. "Aye, you are! I know the damned bible, I'v erea dit in Latin and translated!" He stood with a sullen pout. "I hardly...intended to...just because your nakedness is a beautiful thing!" He caught himself, kicking himself mentally at that one. "...If I have offended you by sinning against you, I apologize," he offered quickly. "It was not my intention to dishonor you with..." the memory of her nudity, the feeling of her body...

It welled up in his memory as he set about to the fire. "I used to stoke the flames," he muttered as she went to work. "It has nohing to do with my current profession," he said as he assembled the flames to get the crackling, dancing fires burning bright. "And you dancing naked in the moonlight has its earnest appeal," he admitted. "If you do so, I promise i shall turn a blind eye..." He finished with the flames before turning back.

"My Plans...to keep warm? I was hoping you had a blanket for that much," he said. He helped himself to the whiskey, sipping it happily to feel it burn as he looked closer to Isla. "...You are more headstrong than many I have met, Isla. Here or otherwise. I confess it leaves me...uncertain how to react. And beautiful as well..." Was he...flirting? This awkwardly? He was usually not such a pathetically mawkish schoolboy.

"If there is any way I can assist you while here, do not hesitate to ask."
 
"I hardly...intended to...just because your nakedness is a beautiful thing!" Justin was blushing, stumbling over his words when the truth slipped out.

Isla's mouth dropped open a little and she grinned. "Oh really!" She tried to keep from laughing, just so he wouldn't think she was laughing at him. She wasn't; it was more a combination of disbelief and embarrassment than anything. She was used to being the aggressor, even when she and Will were courting, and such naked honesty while refreshing was unusual.

"If I have offended you by sinning against you, I apologize," he offered quickly. "It was not my intention to dishonor you with..."

He trailed off and Isla managed to close her mouth, though she still smiled. "With honesty?" She chuckled as she ladled out the meal. "You've committed no sin against me that I've not against you. I'm just more subtle about it." She winked before directing him to build a fire and bringing the bowls to the table. When he promised to turned a blind eye to her dancing naked in the moonlight, she shook her head. "I should be more offended if you did. And what were your plans?"

"My plans...to keep warm? I was hoping you had a blanket for that much," Justin answered.

"I had meant after supper," she said, blowing on a bite of chowder before eating. "But if it's warmth your after, well...you know your way around the house. Should you feel the need to inspect for any more traces of sorcery." There was a suggestive look to her as she said this, but merely turned her face into her cup as he confessed that he was uncertain how to react to her. "Headstrong is a good word for it," she admitted. "Ma called it offputting, but Will always said he liked a challenge." She wiggled her shoulders a little. Another bite. Another sip. She was starting to get in her cups a bit.

"If there is any way I can assist you while here, do not hesitate to ask."

"Oh, there's a number of ways you can assist me, Justin," she said with a chuckle, "but most of them would be uncouth to ask. So I'll stick to setting you to chores." She allowed a pause. "So what did you do before, that you tended flames? Before all this witch hunting business?"
 
Justin considered his words again, lightly cursing himself as he scowled to his cup. He grumbled something that might have been an apology. "...Really and truly," he said quietly at her laughter, recognizing there was no mockery in it. Was she making...interest clear? He could not be sure through this. "...Subtlety seems to be a vice I sorely lack at times." Not a witch. But vexing indeed, this Isla Catanach...

The mention of offense were he to turn a blind eye at her nude dancing made him envision such a thing. He withheld the blushing with great effort, controlling his breathing as he pictured her naked skin again. The thought of her...in a cheerful, uninhibited dance was suddenly in his head, unbanished from his thoughts. "After supper perhaps I shall...read, explore the nearby land before the woods...see more of your house. Get to know Kellas better and- " he stopped at that suggestive look, suddenly suspecting other intent. But...

God help him, he wanted that the more they spoke. "Aye, perhaps I should stay closer. Inspect the place thoroughly for any sign of....anything!" He finished as he finished his own cup. "You may assist me by...pointing things out. Answering questions. I shall assuredly not bother you to the fullest extent I am able, Isla..."

'Uncouth to ask.' He stopped short at that. "...Yes. Chores and....couth, very couth those are." He glanced towards her chest involuntarily, before he looked back up to her head. "It was only...chores back then. With my own parents, my family...a more peaceful time..." he confessed.
 
"Most would say subtlety is a virtue among virtues," she countered lightly.

She flirted with him through supper, though it was difficult to tell whether he was cottoning on to her lewd hints. Justin mentioned a desire to explore the land and get to know the cat better, but stopped short at her look. He turned an about-face, suddenly deciding to stay close to the house in order to inspect it. Isla smiled over her bowl, the fire and candles casting a warm glow over her features. The fire of her hair softened to a warm, burnished copper, and her eyes appeared to glow greener than they had in sunlight. She leaned her chin on her hand, the whiskey starting to go to her head as she watched him speak.

"It's better to stick close in the night," she confirmed, her voice low, sultry. "And you're welcome to inspect anywhere in my house you'd like; I've nothing to hide. I'll answer all your questions honestly as I can, promise." Isla smiled warmly, then chuckled again when he stumbled over his words and glanced down at her decolletage. "Well, good to know you grew up honest then," she said when he talked about his family. "None of these spoiled numpties who can't even fetch a bucket from a well."

With supper over, she washed up the two bowls with what water was left in the bucket, tossing the dirty water out into the spiral next to the door when she was done. Halfway to the sofa, she stopped and looked down at her feet. She took two more steps. She giggled and shook her head.

"Why'm I still wearing shoes?" she asked of no one in particular. Bending down she untied her boots and kicked them off, placing them neatly by the door before turning back and continuing to the couch. "Shoes might be useful, but they're dead uncomfortable," she said, putting her feet on the middle cushion then pulling up her skirts. She looked over at Justin as she bared her thigh and pulled at the ribbon holding up her stockings. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked, rolling one stocking down then the other, then letting her skirts fall again. "I figure you've seen more than just a flash of ankle, no use pretending they don't exist." She laid her stockings out over the arm of the couch before curling up and looking over at him. "I've a little while yet before I feel tired. I'd be glad of the company if you'd sit." She patted the spot next to her.
 
"Some might say subtlety is a virtue. You do not seem to be one of them." Now his tone was teasing, his smile widening as he stared at the woman before him. He was enjoying Isla's interest despite himself. It might have been ill-advised in totality, but Isla was so vivacious, so unapologetic in her love and zest for life. It was infectious and made him want to be...closer to her? To know more of her? His heart was thumping deep within his chest while he tried to control himself, seeing her over his bowl...

And he smiled back, the shadows casting an orange light over his face, dancing and flickering shadows against him as he combed back his short black hair. "I appreciate you quite possibly preventing a mob from murdering me earlier as well, Isla," he said with a touch of humor. "We'll stick close as you need in this evening," he finish, tone calm in response to her own dulcet and sultry tone. "I have seen the cellar and it seems the only beast lurking within is Kellas. And I grew up very honest...I try to remain honest as well...."

At her removing her shoes, he realized he was still in boots. After receiving permission, he undid them, glad to be able to relax as well. "Thankfully, I had my own provisions and clothing...it gets old sticking in the same clothes day in and out, I promise," he said before...he saw her thigh. The creamy white, dotted skin...

"I...do not mind at all," he said. "Please, I have seen much of you already. He comfortable," he added as he walked to sit by her. "I would...very much like to be company now."

....he was usually not this awkward, but try telling HER that.
 
Isla shrugged. "I've no opinions on subtlety one way or the other," she said lightly. "Sometimes I'm subtle, sometimes I'm not. Depends on how easily I think I can get what I want...and how good the other person is at picking up hints." She grinned and chuckled.

She leaned against the arm of the couch as she watched him in the firelight, then shook her head when he thanked her for preventing the mob from murdering him. "I kept them from murdering me," she corrected, "though I admit, 'twould've been a shame if they'd got you too." She kicked her shoes off and sat on the couch.

"Thankfully, I had my own provisions and clothing," Justin said as he removed his own boots. "It gets old sticking in the same clothes day in and out, I promise."

"Oooh, lookit me," she mocked playfully with a grin, pulling up her skirts. "I'm Justin, I'm some bigshot city folk, I've got more'n two shirts!" She laughed--it was nearly a cackle--as she pulled off her stockings and laid them neatly over the arm of the sofa. "We've not much in these parts. I've got all of two dresses and three pairs of stockings, and lord help me if one of them rips. You'll probably hear that I lark about naked in the woods, communing with my heathen gods." She rolled her eyes at the truth. "Really I'm just washin' me knickers." He sat with her, with the declaration that he would like to be company. Isla smiled at his awkwardness, then stretched out her leg and nudged his thigh with her toe.

"Alright then," she said with another nudge. "If you're going to be company you ought to act like it. None of this mysterious stranger stuff. Tell me about yourself." After a pause she giggled and wiggled her fingers at him. "Before I witch you and make you tell me all your deepest, darkest secrets anyway."
 
Justin was finding her....vexing. Adorably so, but vexing was absolutely the word for it. And all that about hints. He was neither blind, nor foolish, but this was making him all but pout as he stared at her. "Hm...at the time, the mob doubtless would have turned on me as well." He let his bare toes touch against the floor while he walked across to her. ....hints, he thought. Hints and more, he thought...he had a feeling what she was hinting at. Part of him wanted to pick up and respond all the more, but he knew deep down it might not be prudent. He was investigating this village. He was living with her now! The risks outweighed any notion of satisfaction.

....almost. He scowled at her with the mockery of him. "I am a servant of church and crown, I can afford shirts!" He groaned. "I swear, you've more a tongue on you than any other woman I've yet to meet, Isla Catanach! Next you'll mock me for the horse! Actually, I shouldn't give you ideas!" He threw a hand to his head with a loud groan. "With you, I'm starting to believe you do lark naked about the woods and prance in the nude through the trees just to harangue at them if they dare to stare at you!"

....before her foot touched his thigh. He almost groaned at that, going red as he turned to stare at her. "That is NOT funny...but..." He sighed. "I was briefly a soldier...before I found this calling thanks to friends. I used to work at my family's old homestead...there, is that a fair start?" He made to poke her, almost playfully.
 
Isla through her head back and laughed at his vexation at her teasing. "Lookit me," she teased again, crinkling her nose as she laughed, "I'm Justin! I can afford a horse!" This time she did cackle. But there was nothing wrong with the occasional cackle, in her opinion. Just so long as it didn't turn into gingerbread houses and poisoned apples. "Well, come to the woods at night and see if I shout at you for gettin' an eyeful," she challenged with a grin. "Come to think of it, this is my house. Maybe I won't bother luring you into the midnight wood if I wanna harangue ye for starin' at me starkers." Isla stretched out one pale, smooth, freckled leg and nudged him with her toe. "Alright then," she said, nudging him again, "If you're going to be company you ought to act like it. None of this mysterious stranger stuff. Tell me about yourself."

She threatened again to witch him to make him spill all his secrets, but Justin was game. She listened as he spoke, briefly, about his life. Isla tilted her head curiously.

"Where did ye soldier?" she asked, curious. "Didja think it was a good cause, or didja just need somewhere to be? There's no shame in it!" she added quickly. "My Will was a soldier for a while, when he was my age and a little younger. But ah..." She smiled slyly. "Well, we believe in a free Scotland up here. That's all I'll say about that, I s'pose."

"I used to work at my family's old homestead," Justin added. "There, is that a fair start?"

He made to poke at her playfully and Isla dodged, but not fast enough. A queer squealing noise escaped and she clapped a hand over her side. "Oi, that's not fair!" she protested, though she was still smiling. "Here I open my home and hearth and you go and take a cheap shot like that?" She leaned forward and poked back, aiming for Justin's ribs.
 
At her mockery, Justin actually scowled, looking a bit frustrated by how well Isla had gotten him in her impression. And that laugh, more like a wicked cackle that emanated forth from her mouth, along with that thick Scottish accent. He didn't like to be mocked at the best of times, but Isla was making things even more difficult than they probably had to be. "I would not wish for any such eyefuls, I assure you!" He reached out and gave her a playful nudge back. Returning it a bit harder with the second nudge. "Perhaps I will, er..." He tried to think of a decent threat while she contemplated him.. "I have told you about myself! I am from England, from a respectable family!"

He tried to think of what else. "Being a soldier was...a job. Fighting for the crown to defend our holdings, for god and country," he repeated as he tried to settle down. "....and a free Scotland is quite admirable. Though perhaps..." he trailed off. "I am not here to involve myself in local politics," he said as much a reminder to himself as a declaration to her before...he lunged to begin pking.

When he jabbed her, he paused as a she all but shrieked and jumped. She lunged back in turn. "Aha, so I've found your weakness!" Like a good soldier, he deflected her blow and plunged his fingers home to her ribs, beginning to move them to tickle her ruthless and without remorse. "There, I have you now! Let us see where your mockery has gone!" he grinned, bearing her down as he tickled her relentlessly.

Suddenly...truly enjoying himself with this strange and bewitching Scottish woman.
 
"I would not wish for any such eyefuls, I assure you!" Justin protested, nudging her back.

"Oooh sure, riiiight." Isla nodded and gave him a sarcastic thumbs up with an exaggerated wink. "I'm sure you wouldn't."

"Perhaps I will, er..." He struggled to think of something to return fire.

Isla laughed. "What? Run starkers around me house your own self?" She laughed again and leaned back, laying the back of her hand across her forehead as she rolled her eyes back. "Oh God please no! Anything but that!" But Justin answered her questions about his life and why he had been a soldier. She nodded understandingly. "Right. God and country," she echoed, though she didn't quite sound like she bought it. When Justin expressed admiration for a free Scotland, however, she raised her eyebrows slightly. "Well that's more'n I've ever heard any Englishman admit before."

But they hadn't time to continue their discussion on politics. He took a cheap shot, lunging forward suddenly and poking her in the side. Isla yelped and twisted away before returning fire. Finding herself blocked, she tried to retreat...and found herself trapped in a corner. Justin bore down on her, pinning her to her corner of the sofa as he tickled her relentlessly. Isla squirmed, trying to fight back but unable to raise her arms long enough to find an opening without getting tickled.

"Ocht nooooooo! Dirty cheatin' sonofaCornishman!" she cried, twisting this way and that until she was on her back on the couch, helpless beneath him. Her legs tangled around his as well as in her own skirts. "Hospitality means nothin' t'ye English Devils!" It was all in jest, of course; all in good fun. Despite her protests she laughed uncontrollably, squirming beneath him. "Comin' takin' advantage of poor Highlander widows! I knew ye was nothin' but--hiccough!" She froze and put her hands over her mouth, a grin creeping out from behind her fingers. "Now lookit what y--hiccough!" Isla laid under Justin, firey hair fallen from her braid, splayed out around her, giggling in the firelight as she struggled with a sudden case of hiccups.
 
Isla Catanach was officially, no question, the most unbelievably vexing, infuriating woman he had ever even heard of. Even nobles, even relatives of royalty did not give him so much trouble as this! He thought with a dark scowl while he looked to her. "I will show you 'stalkers,' woman!" He had pounced on her firmly, fingers set into her ribs as they moved there. He dug them in, aiming to punish her all she could.

"In the name of England, god and country, I punish you, scandalous one!" He pinned her down, grinning as he got rather carried away with all of it. He tickled under her arms, her ribs, trying to keep it as innocent as he could but certainly wishing to see her punished. "Taking advantage, woman?! Seems to me you've brought this on yourself..." He stopped as her braid came loose, the witch hunter paanting as he gazed down at her with lidded eyes. "You...consider yourself...amply chastened..." he murmured.

The way she giggled was almost an intoxicant. He was smiling as well, smiling more than he had in so long while he peered down at her. "I trust that will serve as a lesson. That is what awaits you with further...insolence..." He looked deeply into her eyes, his shoulders heaving while he examined her. "Lady Isla Catanach..."
 
Isla's giggles gradually died as he leaned over her, looking down at her and panting. "Oh aye...thoroughhiccoughly chastened..." She couldn't help but giggle more, now in slight embarrassment, as the hiccups ruined her sentence. She held her breath hopefully, trying to dull them.

"I trust that will serve as a lesson. That is what awaits you with further...insolence..." Justin's shoulders heaved as he caught his breath while looking down at her. "Lady Isla Catanach..."

"Hiccups of death," Isla confirmed, letting her breath go, cautiously hoping they were gone. "Eternal suffering. Got it, Justin Crowe." Her voice was quiet, warm, as she looked up at him. Her hands were on his shoulders, but she wasn't quite certain when she had done that. "You're not too bad, y'know. For a wee English bastard." She smiled and one hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck, where she curled a few locks of hair around her fingers.

Isla wasn't sure when she had leaned up to kiss him, pulling him down with a gentle pressure on the back of his neck. But she was aware when their lips parted because hers were tingling. Grey-green eyes flicked over Justin's face as she lowered her head back to the arm of the couch, though she didn't remove her hand.

"Sorry I uh..." Her fingers still twisted locks of his hair. "I'm not sure what..." For once words failed her.
 
"Thoroughly chastened..." he all but mumbled, gazing down into her eyes. Now she was...having hiccups? He also flushed at that, like a silly little schoolboy! He had never met anyone who might do this to him, nowhere close. "There...just breathe easily," he told her, looking into her eyes . "There...that's the way," he added with a tender gaze as he panted softly. "Eternal suffering indeed...no human has ever been as afflicted as you with your hiccups, eh?" He murmured before her hands found him.

Her hands laced themselves against his shoulders. "You're not so bad for..." For a what? "A wild...Scottish..." he fought for the last word. "Wild Scottish..." nothing came to mind and he deflated, rather defeated, even staring at her. "Scottish....woman!" That's it..." he whispered as she found his hair, feeling there.

Then he felt her lips. A soft and gentle touch to his own. His eyes widened in shock when she separated, staring up at him, seeming as surprised as he was. Had she just kissed him? Was that a thing that had actually happened? Had Isla Catanach, suspected witch he was investigating, just...

Kissed him? Had he liked it? Rather than think about it, he leaned down and kissed her in return, a brief touch of their lips before he separated as well, staring at her. "I...forgive my presumption!"
 
"You're not so bad for...A wild...Scottish..." Justin struggled to find a comparable gentle insult. "Wild Scottish..." He deflated, leaving Isla giggling again.

"Witch?" she supplied.

"Woman!" he declared at the same time. "That's it..."

Isla chuckled warmly. "Well, you've sure showed me," she teased softly before leaning up and kissing him gently. She hadn't quite meant to kiss him, not consciously, though she certainly had no regrets when she did. Justin's eyes were wide and though she didn't look a way she chewed the inside of her lip nervously. "Sorry, I uh...I'm not sure what..."

What, what? Not sure what she was doing? Not sure what she had meant by it, or why she'd done it? Those were all lies. She had no feelings at all for this man--no romantic feelings anyway--though she liked him well enough. But what did romance have to do with sex? Not that kissing would necessarily lead to sex, but it had been an age since she'd kissed a human and it had felt nice. Nicer than she wanted to admit, the witch who had declared to herself on more than one occasion that gods were enough for her. Isla searched for some sort of explanation, some sort of way to extricate herself from a potentially awkward situation--him being a witch hunter and her being a witch and all--when he leaned down and kissed her back. It was soft, gentle, and brief. Too brief.

"I...forgive my presumption!" Justin stammered through an apology as well, leaving Isla underneath him smiling and shaking her head gently.

"Shut up you idiot."

The admonition was soft, affectionate, as she slid her hands from his neck to the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. It was harder, deeper than the first, more needful. One hand remained with the cloth bunched in her fist while the other slid to Justin's ribs to pull his body against hers, then up to his shoulder to hold him against her. Teeth scraped gently across his lower lip and the tip of her tongue slid briefly along it as one knee came up and pressed against his side. No more of this dancing around it.
 
The way the damned woman (well, not LITERALLY damned, unless being vexing was a sin. In which case she was going to be sent to the lowest depths, he mused sourly to himself) was looking at him...Justin was breathing deep and heavily. "I will show you...more- " he had been cut off by that kiss. Such a simple and warm kiss, such a little thing. And yet there he was...there they were. They were returning to one another, lips together as Isla came up to seal her mouth to him.

Justin was no Catholic priest. He took no vows of celibacy or chastity. He was free to indulge (even if it was frowned on) and he did so on occasion. But this was highly irregular. Improper, even. He was investigating her, after all. But Isla's strange ways, her poise and her charm and all of her pure grace...it was more than he could resist. How could he even begin to try? He stopped fighting and he leaned in at the return of her case, feeling her flames.

He also forgot she called him an idiot. Given the circumstances, that seemed only fair. When she yanked him in, his kiss was hot and ardent. He surrendered to it, arms about her as he kissed her heatedly. His lips crushed to hers, his body close to her own as he gasped softly. He looked down at her before he was kissing her again. "This...this is..."

He couldn't finish that.
 
He gave in, finally gave in. At last Justin returned the kiss, crushing his lips against hers, sliding his arms around her middle as they pulled one another close. Isla slid both hands into his dark hair, gripping it firmly but not painfully. He gasped softly as he pulled away, looking down at her with lustful eyes.

"This...this is..."

The corner of Isla's mouth quirked and she shook her head slightly. "Don't."

With that she pulled him back in again, making a small noise of pleasure against his lips before pressing her tongue gently against them, a gentle request for entrance. Both of her thighs pressed against his hips, her skirts sliding down immodestly as she pressed her hips up against his, grinding against him, sighing softly. Slowly she broke away from their kiss, only to press more kisses to the corner of his lips, his cheek, his jaw. Isla peppered kisses in a line along the witch hunter's jaw, up to his ear where she took his earlobe gently between her lips. Leaning up further, her teeth pressed gently against the ridge of Justin's ear.

"Touch me." It was a breath of a whisper, but unmistakable. Even more unmistakable as she slid one hand from his hair, over his neck and shoulder, along his arm til she found his hand and slid it to her breast, over her clothes. "I want you to touch me Justin." Isla's lips pressed against his flesh behind his ear, along his neck, fingers pulled away his collar where her teeth left sharp little nips soothed by a soft tongue.
 
Was this wrong? he didn't have the answer. Maybe it was, he thought with a bleak sense of futility to the objection. Maybe it could be. Maybe he was past the point of no return. Maybe he was too far gone. But damned if he would stop now. He couldn't. He didn't want to. It was as simple as that. Kissing Isla's soft lips, body pressed against her own...his own was hardened from years of training and travel, thick muscle in his lean frame as he kissed at her lips.

Her tongue probed his mouth, his lips opening to allow it entry. He slid his own against it skillfully before Isla peppered kisses all against his face as he pushed his hips to her own. He rocked against her with a low sound, more like a wolf's growl than a man's sigh. "Touch me," she said as he obeyed. His hands slid up against her chest, feeling and squeezing her breasts with more intimacy than he had shown earlier. His hands cupped and squeezed at her breasts, before he tugged a skirt up, fingers trailing up along her thigh.

No asking if she was certain. He wanted her just as badly.
 
Jacket. Vest. Shirt.

Layer after layer Isla clawed at his clothes until finally his shirt tugged off over his head and she slid her hands over smooth, warm skin. Justin was lean, graced with muscle that moved beneath skin that was smooth but not flawless. Warm, flawed, and so very human. And it had been so long since she had connected with someone so human, she didn't care that it was wrong. She didn't care that he was here to murder her. She cared that he was here and real and that he wasn't like her flawed, unearthly beautiful, selfish, larger-than-life gods. Justin was just a man, and that was inexplicably important to her in the heat of the moment. She leaned back with a smile to admire him in the firelight for a moment.

"You're so beautiful," she murmured, before gasping when he rocked his hips against her and breaking the spell of reasonability.

With her own animal noise she pressed her hips back, grinding against the erection straining his pants while one hand slid down to squeeze his ass playfully, fingertips pressing into the leather, as he touched her breasts. Her free hand drifted to her own chest, tugging her laces free with more urgency than she had earlier in the day, leaving her bodice open before tossing it aside. One thigh trembled gently as he ran his hand along it, slowly and inexorably upward. Desperate lips planted burning kisses along his skin, tracing a pattern across his chest. The hand on his ass slipped around his hip, between them, gently rubbing him through his pants as she peppered him with gentle kisses interrupted by an occasional, pleasurably sharp nip on the shoulder or chest.
 
Isla's fingers were like claws, seeking to rend and shred at his clothes. Away went the shirt and her hands pressed to his bare skin. He was panting heatedly, feeling her fingers. Soft, but with a touch that bespoke of being used to working the earth. The scent of her, the sight of her, the feel and the taste. He went in, kissing her again with a new fire, that matched the dancing and flickering flames about them. He made a noise that might have been her name, tossing aside his shirt and suddenly grateful for the security her home offered. So out of the way from anyone else. Nobody to decipher what might happen here. Then she felt his rear, making him gasp softly.

He undid her laces, tugging the top apart to bare her breasts as she cast her bodice away. His hands grasped at her breasts, squeezing and fondling there. He went down to kiss at her chest. He kissed at the valley between her breasts while her hand found him below. He was gasping deeply as she felt him, his body hardening below. His hand went up her thigh until it was between her legs.

He began to rub, skillful and slow. He kissed down at her breasts, mouth finding a nipple as he sucked there, tender and then harder. He tugged gently with his teeth before transferring to the next, rubbing slightly harder with a need he had not even been aware he had.
 
Despite the coolness of the evening, Isla's skin burned with passion as Justin tore away her shirt, discarding it on the floor with his own. Creamy, speckled skin reflected the light from the fireplace as he bared her breasts, her nipples peaking in the chilly air. He fell to her with enthusiasm, squeezing and kissing as her hand slid to his rear, then slid over his hip to touch him. One hand, hardened by work but not covered in the rough callouses of a farmer or craftsman, slid slowly up one smooth thigh.

Finally his fingers found her center. Isla gasped as Justin rubbed her clit skillfully. He'd certainly been with a woman before. His fingers were slow, methodical, exploring her sex and paying attention to which touches dragged little mewling moans from her lips. She squirmed beneath him, groaning and moving her hips against his hand as he touched her, one hand sliding into his hair again to press his lips against her skin as he sucked gently at her breasts. All the while she massaged his hard shaft through his pants. She groaned as he rubbed slightly harder, and Isla's fingers deftly unlaced his pants, pulling him out and stroking down his length.

"Justin..." She was able only to manage a whisper as her fingers wrapped around his cock, sliding down to the base before coming slowly back up. The pad of her thumb smeared a bead of precum over his head as she stroked him in time to his own attentions. As she drew closer to that peak of pleasure, Isla gently pushed his shoulder away. "Sit up," she whispered, pushing gently again on his shoulder. "Sit back."

Isla helped him into a sitting position so that his back was against the couch and his feet on the floor. With a grunt of frustration she pulled away her skirts before straddling Justin's lap. Slowly but firmly, skillfully she stroked his cock, moving in time with the motions of her hand, gazing intensely into his eyes. Her free hand braced on his shoulder as she crushed a desperate kiss to his lips.

"Do you want this?" she whispered as their lips parted, leaning her forehead against his and closing her eyes, never ceasing the motion of her hand on his shaft. "Truly?"
 
Her skin was hot. Pale, dotted with freckles, framed by fiery red hair. Warm and responsive to his touches, his kisses. He forgot he had seen her nude just a short time ago. He forgot anything but his desires and his want of her. This felt intimate, passionate, something for only the two of them now. He purged away all feelings of unease or awkwardness. If this was a sin, then so be it. He could feel her hands all over him and it only made him want her all the more. Panting, his lips darted across her neck, down to her breasts as he replaced the chill of the air with the warmth of his lips.

His mouth locked around a nipple, the Witch Finder sucking there as he teased her below. Deliberate, skillful, he touched her and caressed her with a burgeoning passion while her fingers worked at him. He held himself back as Isla exposed him, her hand working there. He was nearly ready to to push himself against her when she spoke his name, a clarion call against the lust filling him.

"Isla," he returned as her hand slid down upon him and back up. He obeyed her without any hint of reticence, pulling himself up and sitting back, slightly confused but heeding her wishes. But then she was in his lap, against him, Justin feeling her weight upon him as she stroked him up and down. "I want this..." his voice was almost desperate.

"I want you."
 
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