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.

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