He wondered if her shudders were from fear or excitement. Perhaps both, he thought and the realization shot sparks of desire through his loins.
He slid the gown slowly across her legs, and delighted in the way her muscular thighs trembled against him. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his calloused hands. His cock jumped eagerly, pleading for entry. He clutched at her bared bottom and pushed away the insistent desire that tore at his restraint.
She stiffened. Her eyes shifted nervously toward the horses and then back to him as if she were hoping for escape. He was prepared for her to run, to struggle, and to fight once more, but she surprised him, remaining as she was, sitting stiffly upon him.
A moist, teasing heat soaked through his braies, caressing his throbbing shaft, and divulging her passions to him in a warm invitation. His heart raced painfully at the knowledge that she wanted him.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to remain still and calm. She was innocent and he knew that, though her body might know what it wanted, she might not understand the emotions rampaging through her. He wanted to take his time, to give her pleasure.
He smiled up at her in what he hoped was encouragement, but he could not quell the trembling in his lips. She did not relax, but neither did she pull away or try to move his hand. His heart swelled and thudded loudly in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the various birds that surrounded the lake.
He wrapped the long silken strands of cascading hair around his unsteady fingers and pulled her mouth to his, pressing his lips onto hers.
She dropped her hands to his chest. Heat seared through his thick tunic, branding him. A chill raced across his spine, and he clenched his jaw to keep a groan from escaping.
He ran his tongue gently across her lips and reveled in the small gasp it elicited from her. His heart danced somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. He swallowed hard to get breath around it. Pressing his hardened cock against her, he rocked slowly, gently.
Her eyes closed and her hands clenched the front of his tunic, pulling erotically at the thick hair of his chest beneath it. He moved slowly wanting to take his time with her, to enjoy her fully as he brought her to pleasure. Her lips trembled against his and she shivered enticingly in his arms.
Desire flared brightly within him, battling with his control and slowly taking over. “Open your mouth.” He tried to make his words gentle and seductive, but they came out in a harsh, almost painful, command.
Her lips tightened and trembled, and then to his surprise they opened slowly, cautious and unsure. He smiled against her parted lips, amazed that she had obeyed so willingly.
He inhaled deeply as she surrendered to him, her hot breath mixing with his as his tongue invaded her parted lips. He shuddered.
She held herself stiffly through his ministrations, her tongue retreating whenever his grazed its tip.
Vanessa groaned deeply. It was a hauntingly familiar sound. He closed his eyes, tried to place it, and was lost in a dream as he kissed her soft lips. Wisps of memories caressed him. He tried to concentrate on them. A voice, a touch, they teased him gently and raced away. The sounds of a pounding and violent rain whispered to him seductively. The memory was within his grasp. Then Vanessa tentatively touched her tongue to his and it was gone.
Swirling desire fled in the way of a pulsing painful lust, and Peter lost all control at this sudden response from her. Her willingness, her eagerness sent him over the edge. He tumbled her onto her back, staying between her thighs as he rolled with her. He pulled up his tunic and fought with his braies and hose to free his engorged member.
He felt the heat of her sex scorch him as he ran his cock between her trembling thighs. Her tightness swallowed him as he plunged deep into her and with one sudden thrust he tore through her maidenhead.
Vanessa gasped, sucking in a deep whistling breath. He felt her hands on him, her strong fingers digging into his shoulders, clutching at his clothing.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders, he buried his face into her fragrant hair and crushed her to him. He increased his pace, harder and faster as the tight pain of his lust built inside him like a hurricane.
He felt her begin to struggle beneath him, her hands shoving at his shoulders. Her legs tightened around him, hips rocking as she fought. Her deep shuddering moans vibrated through his body and she dug her nails painfully into his back.
He looked down into her face and caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes as she stared straight up at the sky above her. He tried to stop and slowed his thrusts. Her muscles tightened and released around his cock as she struggled, creating a pulsing, pulling sensation.
The violent storm within him was peaking. He was too close to the swirling winds of desire to pull free. The tempest called to him and he could do nothing but obey. He closed his eyes and everything was lost to him as he plunged into her faster and deeper, screaming his release, a release like nothing he had ever experienced before.
He collapsed on top of her, guilt quickly filling the void that was left as the storm dissipated.
Van lay shaking and confused beneath Peter, unsure of how to interpret the rush of emotions that had overtaken her during his rough lovemaking. She drew in long slow breaths and tried to swallow the thick lump in her throat. Her eyes closed, she went over the past few moments in an attempt to understand why she had panicked.
She had enjoyed the kisses he had given, but the moment he had rolled her onto her back she had begun to feel trapped, overpowered, and helpless. The loss of her virginity had not hurt as she had heard other women complain that it did, but the feeling of complete domination had suffocated her.
Her body had ached for him to continue even as fear had overwhelmed her. She did not understand how her body could want something that her mind rebelled against.
As he had slammed into her, a tight ball had started in the pit of her stomach and a building heat had swelled from between her legs. The flames had threatened to engulf her. That was when she had begun to fight.
Peter’s body trembled, drawing her from her thoughts. She listened to his raspy breathing and waited for him to move. He continued to lie still, even though she could feel him softening inside her.
She dropped her arms to her sides, the cool grass relieving some of the stress that wrapped her in a tight grip. The tension slowly eased from her muscles.
Her legs trembled as if she had run a mighty race. She shifted beneath him, adjusting her hips to find a semblance of comfort.
To her horror, she felt him begin to harden once again and her eyes flew open. “Nay, move not,” Peter said without lifting his head. “I did not do that well.”
She could feel his hot breath against her neck as he spoke, his voice a weak whisper.
Her breathing stopped, her heart raced, and she held herself perfectly still, hoping he would not want to take her again so soon.
She silently cursed herself for her weakness. She was not a weak woman and had indeed proved that fact over and over throughout many battles and injuries. So why was she afraid now? The fear of losing herself to him? The fear of liking it? She had no answers and shifted uncomfortably.
Peter shuddered as she shifted beneath him, pushing her hips into his. He groaned. “Do not move. Hold still and get used to me.” His words were muffled in her hair.
He inhaled its soft lavender scent and wrinkled his nose when the fine strands tickled at his face. He did not want to face her. He had acted like a lust starved child instead of a grown experienced man and could not understand it.
He wanted to stay buried in the safety of her hair, but knew he could not. He had to make sure she was not hurt or frightened. He hoped he could make her understand what he himself did not.
With a tight moan, he pulled himself up onto his elbows to look down at her. The thick powder on her face was laced with small rivulets of sweat. The fear was gone from her eyes and her face seemed calm behind the thick mask of powder. The overly sweet smelling powder hid her expres
sions, hid her feelings and irritated him.
“How much powder do you have on your face?”
Vanessa began to struggle, her eyes widening in concern or fear. He was not sure which. What he was sure of, was that she needed to stay still. “Do not struggle.”
Her sudden movements stroked and throbbed around his already painful erection. He had not wanted to take a woman more than once since he couldn’t remember when, but as she continued to struggle he could feel a hot desire build within him.
“Nay, do not, whatever it is that you want to cover is still covered. I can see nothing, but powder.” He pulled out of her before he did something else he would regret and lay still, holding his weight off of her with shaky arms.
She fell motionless and stared up at him. He pushed the uncontrolled strands of hair from her face careful not to disturb the powder. He smiled gently and gave a shaky chuckle. “Well, that decides the public bedding.”
CHAPTER 8
“Public bedding.” Van sucked in a sharp breath. “Nay, I will not allow it.” Her voice was a tight squeal that pricked at her ears and strained her throat. She had attended many a public bedding and could not stand to think of herself up on display as those women had been. She shuddered at the thought of being utterly exposed after so many years of hiding within the safety of the Dark Knight’s embrace.
Peter’s eyes danced with a hint of worry, and she felt some of her own anxiety fall away. Her hungry gaze roamed across his rugged face and she shuddered. She took in the square of his jaw and the slight bump in a nose that had been broken more than once. She had fantasized about him a lot over the years since she had last seen him. She found that she still desired him, and that desire concerned her.
“Do not panic. There will be no need for a public bedding.” Peter smiled in what he hoped was reassurance. “I have no way to reproduce your virgin’s blood for all to see. Not now.”
Peter pulled away and cringed at the large amount of blood smeared on her pale white thighs. Guilt swarmed him and he felt lower than he ever had in his life.
The soft silk of her skirts was cool against his hands as he slid the dress down her shapely legs. “It is all right, sweet one. Do not be afraid. You are not hurt.” He kept his voice soft and low, a bare whisper.
Vanessa groaned, shook her head. Her eyes slid closed and she took several deep breaths before opening them again. She struggled to her feet, but faltered.
Peter was at her side in a moment, an arm wrapped around her in support. Vanessa leaned into him as if she wanted comfort, but to his frustration it lasted only a moment. Then a look of confusion swept across her face and she pulled away.
He sighed as disappointment swelled within him, but reluctantly pressed on with business that had to be taken care of. “If you are not scared, I will need to check to see if I hurt you.” He paused long enough to steady the tremble in his voice. “To see what damage was done.”
He took a deep breath and forced himself to make the offer he did not want to make. “But, if you would prefer, you may wait here while I retrieve the doctor to do it.” He needed to make sure she was comfortable. He had already made a mess of things and did not want to make them any worse, if it was possible to get worse from here.
“Nay, that is not necessary, I am not afraid of you.” Her voice trembled and she looked at the ground. “Not like that.” She looked embarrassed or ashamed, Peter could not decide which. Maybe it was both.
He fought an unimaginable urge to pull her against him, to fix the problems she had, especially the ones he caused. He took a step toward her, but did not take her in his arms. “Not like what?” He gently touched her arm. It was chilled and he could feel the gooseflesh that had erupted upon it. She jumped, looking up at him.
She shook her head sadly. Peter shoved away the guilt at pushing her so hard and extended his hand.
She stared at it, but did not move. He groaned exasperated. He grasped her hand and pulled her gently to the water’s edge. As he guided her onto the grassy bank, he prayed that he had not injured her too badly. Her nose wrinkled and she let out a slight grunt as she sat on the cool grass. He could not help but smile. She was a beauty.
Vanessa looked up at him with a mixture of distrust and fear. His smile fell away. The anger he could take. He even liked to provoke it, to see it flash in her eyes. The fear was something different. It made him feel like a monster that terrorized women. That was not him. Well, he thought sarcastically, thinking of the past few hours, it usually wasn’t him.
He pulled her skirts out of the way and slid her to the edge of the gently lapping water. She tried to pull the dress back down, but he caught her wrist in his hand. He felt a trembling, but was unsure if it was coming from her or from him. “Sit still and we will be done all the faster. I thought you said you weren’t scared of me?”
“I am not scared.” She sat still while he pulled the dress back up. The blood was drying on her smooth white thighs. There was a lot of it and worry rippled through Peter’s stomach.
“Don’t be.” He tore a strip from the bottom of her chemise and wet it in the cold water of the lake.
Vanessa closed her eyes as Peter gently washed away the blood and seed that covered her sex and thighs. He sighed deeply. “There is slight tearing. I am sorry. It was not well done of me at all.” He trembled with embarrassment, with guilt.
Vanessa’s head leaned back, her body relaxing. Peter smiled and continued to gently rub the wet strip of cloth along her skin even though she was clean.
Sunlight glittered across the pale blue surface of the lake. Peter glanced up as several white kingfishers swooped over the lake, squawking loudly at the intruders. Small purple flowers grew from vines throughout the small meadow, sending soft scents of light perfume wafting over Peter’s senses.
Vanessa rocked her hips forward. The soft warmth of her sex grazing his hand pulled his attention back to her. He took in the look of pleasure that swept across her face and shivers ran across his skin, leaving hot tingles in their wake. He could almost feel her pleasure as if it was his own. He wanted her, wanted her bad, but would not allow himself to hurt her once again.
Irritated with his own lack of control, he yanked down her skirts and silently cursed himself.
Confusion swept through Van as Peter roughly pulled her to her feet and stomped away. She had begun to relax and she didn’t understand why he was angry again. He had taken her, violently, submitted her to embarrassments, and now he had the gall to be mad at her.
She glowered fiercely as she watched him retrieve his saddle. She could hear him cursing as he threw it back onto his stallion. Jackal swung his head to look at his master and laid his ears back. Peter told him to shut the hell up and continued to saddle him.
Van grinned as she thought of how she had outsmarted him as he had acted so superior sitting upon his horse. A sudden image of his saddle slipping from beneath him filled her mind. Giggles bubbled up inside of her and erupted uncontrollably.
He looked up at her in surprise only reinforcing the image of his shocked look as he had gone off his mount. She could clearly see his blond brows raised in shock and his arms flailing for purchase, but finding none. She could almost hear his grunt as he hit the ground. Her giggles quickly became a full bellied laughter that she couldn’t stop, even though she tried desperately to do so.
Peter stalked toward her, a grin of his own starting. Van grinned in return. She could not remember when the last time was that she had laughed. She had always needed to be so in control of herself. She took a deep breath, trying to contain her laughter, but the vivid memory of her own fall over her dress flashed through her mind.
It was the dress that had gotten her. Of all the enemies that she had faced, she was done in by a dress. Her sides ached and her stomach hurt, but the laughter gripped her once again.
Peter stopped before her and shook his head. Grasping her arms tightly, he gave her a playful shake. The wide smile sparkled all the way up to
his blue eyes. They shimmered with laughter as he spoke. “What is so funny?”
She jerked from his grasp still laughing and began to run. “I was thinking of you falling with your saddle,” she yelled breathlessly over her shoulder.
Peter took chase, catching her in an instant. He threw her to the ground and rolled on top of her. “You think that was funny, do you? Well, I think it funny that you couldn’t even run in your dress without falling over on top of me.”
The mention of the dreaded dress brought on another round of laughter. Van struggled nominally beneath him, but no longer wished to get away. Her fear was completely gone, leaving only the admiration that she had harbored for him since she was a page at the castle.
He smiled down at her and her laughter died as her breath caught painfully in her throat. Van could feel her face getting hot beneath the thick powder as she lost herself in his warm embrace.
The brush around them rustled as Grant stepped through the foliage. “Sorry, my liege, to interrupt, but you told me to inform you when all was ready at the castle.”
Peter didn’t answer, only grunted. He grasped her arm and pulled Van to her feet as he stood. She gained control of her racing heart for only a moment before he pulled her against him. She trembled deep within his tight embrace. Her heart thudded against the walls of her chest and she fought to gain control.
“We are not finished with this,” he growled deeply, drawing her back to reality. “You keep thinking it funny that you made me fall, I will get even with you.”
Van grinned widely in anticipation. She and Richard Devenroe had played pranks on one another. It had started out as a training method to teach the young squire how to be prepared for all situations. It had ended as a competition to out-best each other. Van had loved it and missed it.
Now it seemed that she had the same opportunity and from the look on her new husband’s face, it was a challenge she was going to love once again. It was something she could see him following out fully, and she was prepared.
The Dark Lady Page 13