by Raven, Sandy
She began to cry now, unable to stop herself, but she continued with her story. Lia told him how she was abducted. That the two men had been instructed to kill her, but saw an opportunity for profit instead and sold her into slavery.
She exhaled a weary sigh. “I feigned unconsciousness to discover their plans. My abductors were ordered to return for my brother and Maura in a few months. He just turned eight years old. I wasn’t there for Christmas, or for his birthday, and he probably thinks I’m dead. Maura is old and doesn’t move so easily as she did. Your Grace, I don’t know how much time I have, but I must hurry if I am to save them. If they’re still alive.”
She cried harder now, breaking into sobs and trembling violently as she released all the fears pent up inside her these past weeks. Since awakening in the harem she’d been able to keep it all within because of her plan to escape if the prince refused to help her.
Now, everything had changed. She was bound for a country even farther away, decreasing any chance of rescuing her only remaining family.
Ren understood all too well the pain Lia felt at the betrayal of her aunt, and the fear for her sibling and nurse. Betrayal by a relative was why he was here in Morocco. He stood and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. She felt so fragile and small as her body finally gave in to all the pressures she’d been under. He hadn’t decided yet what he’d do, but if he was to do anything at all, time was of the essence.
After several minutes, Lia pulled away, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I will please you every night. Live out my time in service to you, gladly. And I will repay any expenses you incur on my behalf, if you will only rescue my brother and our nurse from my aunt’s home. I will do whatever you ask of me—anything—for them. Please? Will you help me?”
“I will think on it,” he replied, as he mentally wondered at the speed with which he could recall his crews and sail to Italy.
Large green eyes, red-rimmed and glistening with tears looked up at him and something constricted in his chest. Wisps of sable-colored hair had fallen loose from her comb, and blew into her face from the gentle breeze in the garden. He brushed it back with his fingers, his palm touching her wet cheek. She rested her face in his hand, closing her eyes.
“I haven’t much time,” she whispered. Backing away, she fell to her knees before him, her hands rubbing her legs nervously as she stared up at him. “What can I say, what can I do, to persuade you to help me? I would give my own life to spare his.” She folded her hands together in a praying fashion, begging him as a fresh wash of tears began to fall freely down her face. “He’s just a baby. My parents loved him so.”
“I haven’t refused you, Lia. I said I would think on it, meaning my current plans must be altered, and arrangements made.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks, and rested his hand on her face. “And I’m sure your parents loved you as much as they did your brother.”
“They did,” she whispered.
Lia took his hand and brought the palm to her lips. The simple gesture sent a raging inferno through Ren’s body. The tip of her tongue traced a line between his fingers, causing his breeches to become uncomfortably tight. He groaned as she took his middle finger between her lips and gently sucked, the tip of her tongue sliding up and down the digit, making his cock harder.
Taking his hand away, he stared into her eyes. Right at that moment he decided. It was the solution to both their problems. “I know a way.” His gaze lowered to her moist, full lower lip, wondering how it would feel on his.
“Anything, Your Grace,” she whispered. Bringing his hand back, she kissed his palm once again, then his wrist, and then the inside of his bare forearm.
“You should hear what my dilemma is first, and understand my proposed solution.”
“Anything within my power is yours.”
He raised her hand, lifting her to stand before him. He gazed into her deep green eyes, and felt a hot tremor course up his arm to his chest. “I need an heir. A legitimately born son. As soon as possible.”
Wide-eyed, she stared at him, obviously shocked by his words. “For that you would need a wife.”
“To save your brother and your nurse, you need me and my ships.”
“Your Grace, surely a man as handsome as yourself, assuming you have a little coin, can find a lady to marry in your own country.”
“I don’t want someone from my own country.” He held her chin in his hand as he stared into her face. “I want you.”
“But we don’t know each other,” she said, then closed her eyes. “I’m Catholic and will not convert.”
“You might have to in order for our son to inherit my title.”
“Why? Why me?”
“I desire you.” She tried to turn away, but he prevented her with the merest increase in pressure. His thumb stroked her lower lip, then two fingers stroked her cheek. “And I think...,” He moved in closer and lowered his lips to within a hairs breadth of hers, and whispered, “you do not...,” He pressed them to hers momentarily to gauge her reaction. She sighed in his arms, and he added, “dislike me.”
Acting on that intense desire to truly kiss her, Ren claimed her mouth finally, and after an awkward moment, she parted for him. She tasted of the wine she’d just drunk, dusky sweet and extremely rare. His tongue traveled the sharply uneven planes of her teeth, and dueled with hers.
He held her to him, his hands roaming her back from the arc of her shoulders to the curve of her well-formed bottom. She wore nothing under the pantalettes, and that knowledge stirred him even more. His hands roved forward, around to her waist and upward, covering her breasts. Full and firm, her nipples were hardened with desire, and he flicked his thumbs over each peak. When she pressed into him and wrapped her arms around his waist, his cock throbbed uncomfortably behind the placard of his breeches. He hadn’t frightened her with his ardency, which was something he worried about because it had been so long for him. But she still had not agreed to his proposal, and he wanted to know. Had to know.
“Do you agree to my terms?” He whispered near her ear as he began to kiss a trail down the long column of her neck. She nodded, but that wasn’t good enough. For some reason he needed to hear it from her lips. “Say it, Lia. Tell me you agree.” She moaned as his lips reached the sensitive area where her neck met her shoulders.
“Why?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
She sighed as his thumbs raked over her hardened nipples.
“Yes.”
“Yes to what?”
“I will marry you.” Her words came out on a whisper, as her knees buckled under her. She marveled at the sensations as her entire body awakened under his touch. Where did those words come from? Lia couldn’t believe she’d just agreed to marry the man. He’d used her own body against her, to get the response he’d wanted. Even now, his hands moved on her body bringing her to life, as if until this moment she had merely existed. His firm lips worked magic on hers, and she arched into him giving him more, offering her body to him.
Starved for breath, she tried to pull away, but one hand curved about her neck, bringing her even closer. She didn’t think she could get any nearer to him than she already was. His fingers raked through the hair of her nape, and traveled upward, pulling the comb free. Then his nimble fingers unclasped the choker, and dropped it onto the dressing table. Turning away from her, he took her hand and led them to one of the two intricately-carved wooden wing chairs in the center of the room.
He lowered himself into it, and said, “Disrobe for me, Lia.”
She stood between his spread knees, her thighs touching his, and stared at him, trying to decide if that was a request or a command. If she did not comply, what would he do? Her pulse began to race, and the room started to feel warmer as she contemplated her next move.
“I asked you to disrobe, Lia.” In the dimly lit room, she trembled at his request. She wasn’t afraid, and it wasn’t particularly cool out, so she didn’t understand her bod
y’s reaction to his words.
She began to move, slowly at first, taking the hem of the tunic in her hands and lifting it upward. Disrobing would be fast, as she wore nothing beneath the outfit. She removed her tunic, exposing her breasts to his gaze. She watched his expression and thought she saw the corner of his lips curve, revealing a dimple.
Lia could now see some truth in the old whoremaster’s words. A willing woman could ask her man for the moon and he would attempt to give it to her. Only old Ashraf never said the power a woman held over a man would thrill her to the point it made her want to please him.
Once the tunic was on the floor, her hands went to the drawstring waist of the pantalettes and untied them. “Let me,” he whispered before she lowered them.
Eyes lowered as instructed she felt a warm excitement in her breast. “Look at me.” She did as she was told, fighting a strange desire to smile at him. His hands raked her skin as he placed two fingers into the waist of her pantalettes, his rough palms grazing over her sensitive flesh, and pulled the drawstring loose. Removing his hands, he let the silken garment fall to the ground.
Lia stood before him, naked except for the sandals on her feet. His hands reached out to touch her breasts, and she leaned into them, wanting his touch on her body. She held his gaze. His hands moved lower, coming to rest over her belly, sending rivulets of fire through her veins. One hand turned and he cupped the smooth, hairless skin of her femininity. He looked into her eyes, and she understood his question.
“I have been denuded for your pleasure, Your Grace,” she said in a quivering voice, while willing her knees not to give out.
“I’d not thought to ask before now, but how old are you?”
“I am nineteen.” She wondered if the fact that she were so old would repulse him.
“That is good.” His fingers parted her and one slid over her nub, causing her to moan, then buckle slightly at his invasion, her hands reached out to his shoulders to steady herself.
“Relax, Lia,” he whispered, his warm breath caressing her neck. “Enjoy what you are feeling.”
“I....” She couldn’t speak because the clenching sensation in her womb began to spread through her entire body, sending a flood of liquid warmth flowing to her core. An aching need to be filled began and she rocked back and forth over his hand, pleasuring herself on him.
The Englishman chuckled softly, and removed his hand. “Not so fast, my sweet one, we have all night.”
His hands traveled down the inside of her thighs, to her knees. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts, perplexing her. “I was taught to pleasure my master. No one told me I would find such pleasure in my master’s touch.”
He lifted one of her feet and placed it between his knees on the chair. “Then your instructor did you a grave disservice.” His hands caressed her calf and lower, to her ankle, where he untied and removed the gold sandal she wore. When he finished, he did the same with her other leg. Once the second sandal was removed, he allowed her foot to remain between his thighs as his hands roamed upward again. His touch trailed sweet excitement and torture over the inside of her calf, knee, and inner thigh, to continue his exquisite exploration of her most private place.
“No man has ever touched you?”
“Never, Your Grace.”
“Ren,” he corrected.
Lia groaned his name as his fingers found her sensitive nub again and began to rub over it with a gentle touch and rhythm that caused a moan to slip from her mouth. Her eyes had long ago closed, and her breathing became ragged as she focused on the pleasure he gave her. Occasionally he would dip a finger or two into her to bring more of her wetness forth. He caused an exquisite torture she prayed would never end. Her entire body thrummed with sensations, all originating under his hand and ending when she fell headfirst into a dizzying vortex that opened up and began to pull her in. Lia moaned as the delicious sensations increased, building up inside her as she spiraled out of control.
When she thought she could take no more, he moved his fingers inside of her and his thumb continued the ministrations on her nub. His other hand cupped her bottom, steadying her as her entire body quivered, then tensed. Lia cried out his name as she shattered into thousands of pieces before collapsing onto him.
He gently slid his fingers out of her, and brought her down onto his lap then wrapped his arms about her, holding her close. That simple act of holding her within his arms, caused her to feel safe and cherished, even if only for the time being. It was something she’d not felt in quite a while, and not something she wanted to lose. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he cradled her while she recovered her strength and breath.
Lifting her in his arms as he stood, he carried her to the turned-down bed, and laid her across it. The sheets were cool, and when he pulled away from her, the night air swept across her heated skin, chilling her. His boots hit the floor with a thud, and she watched as he shed his clothing.
When she had first seen him earlier this evening, she thought him to be a large man, but she’d underestimated his size. Surely this was the tallest, broadest-chested figure she’d ever seen. A faint sprinkling of soft black hair covered his entire body, thicker in some places than others.
With his back to her, she watched as he lowered his breeches, admiring his form while he was unaware. He was beautiful, she thought. The Englishman was truly a human form to rival that of the great sculptures of male nudes. When he turned to her, she stared at his engorged organ. The marble dildo she practiced fellatio on was no where near this big. Lia wondered how she was expected to take that within her body. She didn’t have long to wait, because soon the bed sank under his weight, and he stretched out next to her.
Once again, he reached out a hand to lightly skim over her belly with his knuckles. They traveled upwards to cup her breast. Her body reacted to him in ways she’d never expected or had been prepared for. She watched as her own breasts seemed to stand taller when his thumb rubbed over the top. He pinned her down with an arm as he lazily leaned over her. Then his mouth came down onto her already hardened nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He laved on it softly, running his tongue over its tip, sending more rivulets of fire coursing through her.
Her body involuntarily arched up into him as she moaned. He slid over her and did the same to the other nipple. His lips and tongue trailed hot kisses upward, over her neck, and chin, to taste her mouth again.
She met his lips, wanting his kiss as much as she believed he wanted to kiss her. She opened for him and his tongue delved into her, exploring every facet of her mouth, and she reciprocated. The Englishman tasted of honey and wine, a stimulating combination that she discovered she couldn’t get enough of. He trailed tender kisses over her cheek and to her ear, where he toyed with her lobe. She tucked her chin and chuckled, turning away from his touch.
“Ticklish?” When she nodded, he increased his pressure and continued exploring.
Traveling lower, he licked his way down the valley of her breasts, over her belly, then came to a stop at the crest of her womanhood. His tender touch made her entire body tremble with barely leashed passion. Lia had an idea of what to expect, but the reality was far superior to the telling. So far she was the one receiving pleasure, she’d yet to please him.
The moment his tongue touched her most private area she cried out. His intimate kiss caused her body to jerk away from his mouth. His warm hands held her in place as his tongue continued its assault. Again, he dipped a finger into her, then two, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come.
Before long, she was once again writhing in ecstasy. “Please,” she cried out.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he said sliding over her. He came to rest in the cradle between her thighs, where he fit perfectly.
She did as he’d asked, and he parted her, gently pressing the head of his shaft into her. She moaned beneath him, and tilted her hips, letting him deeper within.
“There is no other way,” he murmured reassuringly.
“If there were, believe me, I would take it.”
She nodded and he pulled out, then entered her again more forcefully, and she felt the stinging, burning sensation for only a moment. Then she exhaled, and inhaled slowly. Her new lover held still, and his kindness brought tears to her eyes. She turned away from him and wiped them. “I am sorry for my reaction. I was told the first time would be somewhat uncomfortable, but I am fine now.” she said.
Kissing her temples, he whispered, “It will never hurt again. I promise.”
Her lover stayed deeply embedded inside of her, stretching her, filling her. The initial burning dissipated, replaced by the wondrous sensation of being filled by a man as only God intended. He remained this way a moment to allow her body to stretch and accommodate him. She moved upward to take him in deeper, and her Englishman began to move inside her. Withdrawing partially and thrusting back in, each plunge created new sensations that brought her to another level of euphoria, far surpassing what she’d experienced earlier.
He drove into her repeatedly, each stroke reaching new depths inside her. He began to move faster and deeper still. His ragged breathing, mixed with soft words of encouragement pushed her toward the edge of that wonderful oblivion he had brought her to only minutes earlier. Lia moved with him, reaching upward to meet him, wanting an unnameable something she sensed only he could provide. She cried out for him as she felt her body coil and tighten. He gave a final, deep thrust, causing her to shatter beneath him while he poured his seed into her depths. Only then did he collapse on top of her.
Minutes later, he rolled off and lay on his back, bringing her into the crook of his arm. She winced at the movement, but he was so tender as he cradled her head against his shoulder while she collected herself.
“Hmmm. I enjoyed that,” she whispered.
“I, too, enjoyed it, Lia,” he said. “And I shall try to always make our bed a pleasurable place for you.”