Savage Surrender
Page 11
‘My dearest love,’ she whispered. The need Rianna felt for this man was stronger than anything else in her life. She no longer cared for the future, only for this precious moment in time.
She pulled away from him, and straddled his thighs. Bending her head to lap at the engorged head of his penis, she ran her tongue teasingly around the rim, then she drank the pearl of moisture that trembled on the tip.
‘I love you with all my heart, Rianna,’ Tarn gasped. ‘If you do not desist I’ll not find the strength to repel you again,’ he added, in a voice shaking with emotion.
‘Do not fight your desires, Tarn.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘I want you. I need you to pleasure me. I long to feel your glorious staff of life thrusting deep inside my body.’
‘I always knew you were a forest wraith come to tempt me beyond any man’s endurance,’ he groaned softly. ‘I can no longer fight the erotic spell you’ve woven around me.’
Tarn pressed gentle kisses on her cheek, her mouth, the curve of her jaw. Sliding his lips down her neck, he mouthed her breast, lapping on her nipple and concentrating on the tiny peak until it swelled into a rigid cone. He collared the nubbin, sucking hard, drawing it deeper into his mouth. As he nibbled at it with his teeth, the painful pleasure made her gasp with delight.
With the flat of his hand he stroked her belly, then ran his fingers through her pubic curls. Her pudenda was hot and ready for him. Moisture seeped from her feminine sheath, coating the secret valley of her sex. Parting the red-gold fleece, he slid his fingers between the full labial lips to caress the moist divide. Her vulva throbbed, alive with longing. She sighed aloud as his searching fingers found her pleasure bud, pressing and stroking the aching nubbin until its tiny hood rolled back to expose the extra sensitive flesh beneath.
He touched the entrance to her feminine sheath, circling the opening before sliding his fingers inside. As he stroked the velvety interior, he kissed the underside of her breasts and lapped at the perspiration gathered there. Rianna pressed her face to his long blond hair, pulling the familiar scent of him deep into her lungs, wanting it to remain forever a part of her – a constant reminder of the man she loved. This moment was special, never to be repeated. She was gifting Tarn with her innocence. He was her life, her very existence. Rianna vowed that in her heart he would always be her soul mate, her true husband.
Tarn stroked and teased her pearl of ultimate bliss while his fingers probed her honeyed folds, seeking the centre of her creation. The tips of his fingers brushed the barrier that denied him further entrance and she felt him pull back.
‘No,’ she complained. ‘Continue.’
‘Rianna, Rianna.’ He repeated her name like a litany. ‘You are all I’ve ever wanted and far, far more. I cannot destroy your future with this one selfish act.’
‘You’ll destroy me if we do not continue,’ she said huskily, her desire aroused to fever pitch. Her only need was to be impaled on his thick male shaft, and to feel him thrust deep inside her. Then she would be joined to him completely.
She eased her hips forward until the tip of his glans pressed against the crack of her sex. She was so moist it slid easily between her swollen leaves. Tarn shook his head, wanting to desist but not having the strength to pull away from her. She felt his penis jerk beneath her fingertips as it slid along the valley and brushed the taut pearl of her existence. The nubbin throbbed sweetly and she gave a soft pleading moan.
‘It’s too late, Tarn.’ She positioned herself so that the head of his cock rested against the entrance to her vagina, then she bore down enough to let it stretch the entrance. As she lowered her hips his cock slid inside, stretching the soft, velvety flesh. The sensation was wonderful and she wanted the pressure, the stretching to increase. Very cautiously, she eased her hips lower, feeling her sheath welcome the intimate intrusion as it expanded to accommodate more of the bulky shaft.
‘No!’ Tarn clutched at her hips as if trying to pull her off him. ‘We can stop this, now.’
‘You cannot stop me, Tarn.’
Placing her hands on his shoulders, Rianna thrust her hips downwards. His penis slid deeper, breaking through the membrane that had barred its way. The pain was sharp but momentary. It faded away to be replaced be a feeling of intense pleasure as Tarn’s flesh filled her completely.
Impaled on Tarn’s shaft of life, she leant forward and took possession of his mouth. She felt his lips soften and his resistance dissolve as he kissed her with unrestrained passion. Tightening his hold on her hips, he lifted her and then pulled her down again, increasing the depth of the penetration until the head of his cock hit the neck of her womb. The feeling of stretched fullness was totally exquisite.
Tarn began to move his hips, employing a smooth seductive rhythm. Rianna instinctively began to move her hips in an accompanying beat. Every thrust half-emptied and then filled her, caressing the sensitive walls of her feminine sheath. She dug her fingers into Tarn’s muscular shoulders as his movements became stronger, the accompanying thrusts harder.
Perspiration broke out on Tarn’s brow, and his beautiful face was transfixed by the intensity of his passion. Every thrust brought them closer and closer to release. Their mutual pleasure expanded until it grew into a rosy, all-enveloping haze, their souls merging and becoming one.
‘I love you,’ Tarn gasped.
As she felt his penis jerk inside her, Tarn’s body tensed, trying vainly to pull away from her. Rianna clung on to him, grinding her pelvis against his. Then her climax came in a sudden rush of pleasure. As her flesh tube contracted, milking his cock, Tarn lost control completely. His penis pulsed as he spilt his seed deep inside her body.
The sweetly tearing bliss of Rianna’s orgasm seemed to go on forever. When at last it began to die away, she made a vain attempt to cling on to it, but it slipped through her fingers like grains of sand to be blown away on the winds of time.
‘Rianna, my love,’ Tarn whispered brokenly. ‘How can I live without you?’
‘We must find a way to be together.’ She clung on to him unable to comprehend how life could go on if they were parted.
Tarn’s eyes were bright with unshed tears as he lifted her body from his and cradled her in his arms. Very gently he touched the blood that now stained her inner thighs. ‘I did not hurt you, did I?’
‘No,’ she replied lovingly, conscious only of a slight soreness deep inside her feminine sheath. She did not regret for a moment what she had just done.
‘It is not safe for you to remain here,’ Tarn said worriedly.
‘A moment more,’ she begged, relishing the loving closeness.
‘A lifetime more is what I would ask.’ Tarn stroked her hair and pressed gentle kisses on her flushed face. ‘That is what I will pray for.’
Rianna felt Tarn stiffen as they heard a faint noise in the corridor outside. The door swung open and they both glanced up anxiously, unable to make out the identity of the dark figure silhouetted against the brightness of the corridor.
Presuming it was Mircon come to warn her that their time together must finish, Rianna grabbed hold of her dress and held it in front of her to cover her nakedness.
‘Ye gods!’ a man growled in a voice choked with fury. It was Lesand.
Terror enveloped Rianna, weighing her down, but Tarn reacted with the instincts of a warrior. Springing to his feet, he stepped protectively in front of Rianna.
‘Don’t hurt her,’ he said, making no attempt to cover his own nudity as he stared challengingly at Chancellor Lesand.
Lesand appeared transfixed by the enormity of his discovery. ‘This is insane,’ Lesand’s voice shook with disbelief. He turned to glare at Mircon who hovered in the doorway. ‘Leave,’ he snapped.
The soldier stepped back, pulling the door shut while Tarn helped Rianna to her feet and wrapped her cloak around her trembling shoulders. ‘The blame is mine,’ Tarn said, turning back to Lesand.
The Chancellor’s skin had turned ashen, making the fiery ange
r in his eyes even more pronounced. ‘I cannot believe this is happening,’ he said almost to himself. ‘Tarn, how can you expect me to accept that the blame is yours alone. You are chained and confined here. Are you a sorcerer? Did you summon Rianna here by magic, make her strip naked and . . .’ He shook his head, appearing choked with emotion. ‘Why?’ he asked, turning to look with anguished fury at Rianna.
‘It’s simple enough, Chancellor,’ she replied. ‘I love Tarn. Blame me, not him.’
‘You would have me believe that you forced a warrior at least twice your size to couple with you?’
‘Indeed I did,’ she confirmed, with a smile that spoke more eloquently than words ever could. ‘Tarn loves me deeply. When I came here and begged him to take me, he was so overcome he could not resist my charms.’
‘Why do the gods test me like this?’ Lesand raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘What have I done to deserve such wretched vexations?’ He looked with exasperation at Rianna. ‘You were an innocent maiden, afforded the honour of becoming Lord Sarin’s bride. You have thrown it all away; sacrificed your entire future for a brief moment of rapture with this traitor to Percheron. What am I to do now?’
‘Forget what you have seen, forget this ever happened,’ Tarn suggested.
‘And by doing so, betray my sovereign,’ Lesand said in disbelief.
‘Consider it aiding Rianna, not betraying Sarin,’ Tarn corrected. ‘And by doing so you will be saving yourself. Do you honestly believe Lord Sarin will forgive you, Lesand, for allowing this to happen?’
A mixture of complex emotions flashed across Lesand’s taut features. ‘With my position comes responsibilities, Tarn. I have to accept that, but your punishment will be far worse.’
‘I am already to be punished for my supposed crimes. Sarin cannot execute me twice,’ Tarn calmly pointed out.
‘Maybe not,’ Lesand agreed. ‘However, he can force you to endure unimaginable pain.’
‘And do you want that to happen?’ Rianna said, stepping forward and placing a pleading hand on Lesand’s arm. ‘I know you were once Tarn’s friend. Does that not count for anything now?’
‘Do not ask this of me,’ Lesand grated, his mouth set in a thin line.
‘Betray us if you must,’ Tarn interjected. ‘But if you do your career will be finished, Chancellor. Even if Sarin doesn’t punish you physically, it’s likely you’ll be sent into permanent exile.’
‘Lady Rianna, go to your room,’ Lesand said. ‘I have much to consider before I make my decision on this matter. I’ll speak to you again in the morning.’
‘No.’ She looked worriedly over at Tarn, then back at the Chancellor. ‘I won’t leave,’ she said determinedly.
‘Lesand will not harm me tonight,’ Tarn assured her. ‘Whatever he decides, my retribution lies in Sarin’s hands alone. Please leave, Rianna.’
Lesand pushed open the heavy oak door. ‘Soldier, you are to escort Lady Rianna to her room, then return here,’ he told Mircon.
Rianna cast one last anguished glance at Tarn. Then, hugging her cloak around her, she slipped silently away into the night.
Once Rianna had departed, Lesand looked back at Tarn. The tendons in the Chancellor’s neck stood out like strands of twisted rope. A red flush stained his cheeks and it was clear he was still very angry. Nevertheless, Tarn was not afraid of Lesand and never would be. There was a nobility of purpose inside this man that even Sarin could not extinguish.
‘You blame yourself, don’t you?’ Tarn said with understanding. ‘You think it’s your fault because it was you who brought us together.’
‘Rianna was an innocent maid and beautiful enough to tempt any man, while you are a handsome nobleman in distress. I should have realised your position would have evoked more than sympathy from one as vulnerable and kind-hearted as Rianna.’
‘You were not to know, Lesand,’ Tarn replied. ‘It was my weakness that caused this tragedy. I should have resisted her charms, but I allowed emotion to overrule logic and took her virginity. I would willingly give my life for her, but if Sarin discovers the truth it will not only be me that suffers.’
‘I have no wish for Sarin to vent his wrath on Rianna,’ Lesand said. ‘Neither, if I am honest, do I wish to have Sarin’s anger directed towards me.’
‘Then conceal the truth. Forget what happened.’
‘I am not the only witness,’ Lesand pointed out.
‘The guard, Mircon, will not betray Rianna. Her maid, Jenna, is Mircon’s sweetheart. It was Mircon who helped Rianna to meet me here in secret. If Mircon exposes the truth, he also betrays himself.’
‘And how do I explain to Sarin that his bride is no longer a virgin?’ Lesand argued.
‘Women have ways of concealing such truths. Do you not have someone you can trust within the confines of Sarin’s seraglio?’
‘You ask a lot of me, Tarn,’ Lesand said thoughtfully.
‘You were once my friend.’ Tarn looked deep into Lesand’s eyes. ‘Of all those at Sarin’s court, you were the man I respected most of all. You may not agree with my attempts to free Kabra. However, I know that deep in your heart you understand why I had to betray Sarin and try to regain control of my own kingdom. I’ll fall to my knees and beg you to help Rianna if I have to, Lesand.’
Since that fateful night in Seigneur Wernock’s cellar, Rianna had not seen Tarn or spoken to Chancellor Lesand. The caravan had departed early the following morning and for the last three days Rianna and Jenna had been confined to their wagon, only allowed out for a short time in the evening to stretch their legs. They had been told to speak to no one, but Jenna had managed to discover that Mircon was now assigned to Lesand’s personal staff, while Tarn was once again locked in the barbaric cage.
The weather became much warmer as they travelled further south. The interior of the wagon was unbearably hot and stuffy but they were allowed no respite. So they were relieved when, on the third day, early in the afternoon, the caravan came to a stop in a grove of olive trees. The gnarled branches at least protected them partially from the heat of the sun. Glancing out of the window, Rianna saw Chancellor Lesand gallop up and dismount from his horse.
He stepped into her wagon unannounced. ‘We’ll be in Aguilar within the hour,’ he said brusquely. ‘I suggest you change into something more suitable to greet your future husband.’ He looked pointedly at her crumpled gown. ‘A moment alone with your lady,’ he added, turning to address Jenna.
Jenna hurried from the wagon, while the Chancellor stared penetratingly at Rianna. Her heart had sunk when he mentioned her future husband. Part of her had hoped she would be packed off home in disgrace and not obliged to marry Sarin. Now she was unsure what the future held for her. ‘Chancellor,’ Rianna said hesitantly. ‘About the night –’
‘Best you forget that ever happened,’ he interrupted. ‘Against my better judgement, I’ve done as Tarn requested and chosen to ignore your traitorous actions. Lord Sarin will never learn the truth from me.’
‘So I’m still to marry him?’
Lesand nodded. ‘Certain arrangements will have to be made in order to conceal the loss of your virginity. Lord Sarin will expect proof of that when he beds you, but there are ways he can be deceived. Once in the palace my representative will make herself known to you by showing you a ring bearing my personal crest. Be advised, trust no one but her.’
‘And Tarn?’ She was more worried for him than she was for herself.
‘Tarn is no longer your concern,’ Lesand said curtly. ‘Forget you ever knew him.’ His expression softened. ‘Never fear, Rianna, I do not believe Lord Sarin has any intention of executing Tarn.’
‘I’ve much to thank you for, Chancellor.’
‘Fate may not have been overly kind to you, Lady Rianna. I wish you good fortune and hope that one day you will find happiness in your new life.’
‘Happiness is no longer within my grasp.’ She turned away from him, tears filling her eyes.
Chapter Six
The hard-packed roads were uncomfortable enough to travel on, but the city streets were even worse as the wooden wheels of the wagons trundled over the uneven cobblestones. White-painted shops and houses bordered the streets, and brightly coloured fabric hung from wrought iron balconies. Now and then through open doorways, Rianna caught a glimpse of shady, blue-tiled courtyards. It was beautiful and exotic, yet there was something a little sinister and secretive about this city.
The heat was suffocating. Smells of spices and jasmine mingled with the odour of cooked meats and honeyed pastries. There were people everywhere; a sea of dark-eyed and dusky-skinned onlookers watched curiously as the caravan passed by. Some of the looks were inquiring, others openly hostile, making Rianna draw back from the window, wondering anxiously how Tarn was faring trapped in his cage and fully exposed to the taunts of the crowds.
Soon the streets became wider. The stone walls of the houses backing on to the road were swathed with scarlet bougainvillaea. They passed through the entrance of the palace protected by ornate gold-painted gates. Here most of the caravan stopped, and only Rianna’s wagon and her military escorts moved forwards into a large square with an ornate fountain in its centre. The palace was a huge white marble-fronted building, its windows covered by elaborate wrought iron screens.
A large number of elaborately-dressed people were gathered in the courtyard. Rianna was conscious of the agitated beating of her heart as she nervously descended the steps of her wagon. Chancellor Lesand took her arm and escorted her towards those waiting to greet her. The heat was intense, the sun searing through her gown. Moisture pooled under her breasts and between her thighs, and strands of her hair stuck uncomfortably to the back of her neck.