Damn You

The whole Scene

I must have ye now, or die,” he said, bre­ath­less, and then his mouth was on mine again, his face cold from the air out­side, and his bre­ath steaming with mine.
Then he drew abrupt­ly away, and I stag­ge­red, pres­sing my hands against the rough bricks of the wall to keep my balan­ce.
“Hold up your hands,” he said.
“What?” I said stu­pidly.
“Your hands. Put them up.”
In com­ple­te bewil­der­ment, I held them up, and felt him take hold of the left one, fum­bling. Pres­su­re and warmth, and the faint light from the open door sho­ne on my gold wed­ding ring. Then he sei­zed my right hand, sho­ved my sil­ver ring onto my fin­ger, the metal warm from the heat of his body. He rai­sed my hand to his mouth, and bit my knuck­les, hard.
Then his hand was on my bre­ast, cold air brushed my thighs, and I felt the scratch of the bricks on my bare back­side.
I made a noi­se, and he clap­ped a hand over my mouth. Speared as neat­ly as a lan­ded trout, I was just as hel­pless, pin­ned flap­ping against the wall.He took his hand away and repla­ced it with his mouth, engul­fing mine. I could feel the small urgent growls he was making in his throat, and felt ano­t­her one, much lou­der, rising in mine.
My shift was wad­ded high around my waist, and my bare but­tocks sma­cked rhyth­mi­cal­ly against the roug­he­ned brick, but I felt no pain at all. I grip­ped him by the shoul­ders and held on.
His hand skim­med my thigh, pushing at the drifts of linen that threa­tened to come bet­ween us. I remem­be­red, vivid­ly, tho­se hands in the darkness, and bucked con­vul­si­ve­ly.
“Look.” His bre­ath came hot in my ear. “Look down. Watch while I take ye. Watch, damn you!”
His hand pres­sed my neck, ben­ding my head for­ward to look down in the dim­ness, past the folds of shel­te­ring fabric to the naked fact of my possession.I arched my back and then col­lap­sed, biting the shoul­der of his coat to make no noi­se. His mouth was on my neck, and fas­te­ned tight as he shud­de­red against me.

damm you

All rights for the Pic­tures of Jamie and Claire go to the right­ful owner Starz
Excer­pt and Quo­te by Diana Gabal­don from “The Fiery Cross“
I own not­hing but the editing
Heike Ginger Ba Written by:

|Human|Woman|Mother|Wife|Friend| Photographer| Blogger| |TV-Junkie|Photoshop-Beginner|Art-Lover|Cologne-based|Outlander-addict |Sherlockian |TWD-devoted


  1. Jan Miutz
    August 30

    Hi Hei­ke!

    I am cur­r­ent­ly rerea­ding TFC! I knew imme­dia­te­ly whe­re this sce­ne came from! Hard to under­stand why folks think TFC is hard to read! Of cour­se, I wan­ted 4 years for it, and couldn’t wait to read it!?

    I couldn’t reboot my Kind­le last week. The props said to go to fac­to­ry set­tings. I was afraid I would lose ever­y­thing! Not too tech­ni­cal sav­vy, but I try! It worked! So nice to be bad on Twitter,even though I am not very good at it eit­her! Have a good week! 😀

    • Heike Ginger Ba
      August 30

      Hi Jan,

      cant under­stand the Pro­blems with TFC… love this Book so much..slow Pace yess…but some of the best J&C Moments in it…Glad your Kind­le works again..cu on TW or FB… Hei­ke Gin­ger

  2. Tammy Bursoni
    August 31


    • Heike Ginger Ba
      September 2

      Thank you very much Tammy..LG Hei­ke Gin­ger

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