‘Ye believe me know do ye?’ ‘Aye. He magic’s wore off when she was away from me for so long.’ Cien looked at me, his eyes cold and distant. I stared back into them, trying desperately to remember that he loved me and he still wanted to marry me even though he knew I wasn’t of his time. He still loved me. Unconditional love. He was trying to get me out of here so I wasn’t going to be killed. But right that moment, with his eyes as cold as a winter sky, it was hard to remember. It was cold hate shinning in his eyes, and for the briefest of moments, I thought it was directed at me. That cold, hard hate. But something poked through, a glimpse of warmth underneath. I almost smiled, almost. Instead I dropped my head down and started crying again. ‘Why does the bitch cry?’ Cien looked back at him and shrugged. ‘Mayhap she knows she is going to die. Mayhap it is because she knows she will never be the Laird Frasers wife.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Who knows.’ Alex continued to watch him. Evie spread her legs wide for Rose, her pussy lips so aroused that they were almost around the thin strip of panty material. Rose dipped her finger in Evie's slick wetness, feeling her shudder, and holding her hips firmly down with her other hand. She pressed harder against the flimsy material, running her nuckles against Evie's pussy, up and down several times. Rose still never touched Evie's clit directly, instead alternating between the firm pressure of her knuckles and the teasing feel of her nails against the panty material covering her clit. Evie began to shudder uncontrollably and push at the material of her panties, trying to take them off. "Please... please," she moaned, bucking her hips. Rose could stand no more. She tore off her skirt, revealing her own black lace panties, also obviously wet in the center. She jerked at the knot on her bodice, cutting the laces with her knife. Peeling the rest of the corset off her, she revealed her freckled, exquisite, pear shaped.
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