He pulled me close, his chest to my back, then bent me over slightly, holding my hands against the rock wall and kissing gently down my back. His smooth hands ran down my arms and back before gliding up and down my thighs, and I felt myself grow wet with anticipation. The sound of his buckle being undone made my legs quiver with excitement. He gripped my hips and thrust deep into me, hard. It was a sensation I wasn’t used to when we made love, but I was excited by it.
Thomas placed his rough hands over mine and thrust over and over. The slaps of our skin meeting echoed off the wall in quick succession. I couldn’t hold in my moans of pleasure and screamed as he took me. His hands released mine and he gripped my breasts tightly, driving himself even deeper into me.
Suddenly he pulled away and before I could protest, he spun me around and grasped my hips, pushing my back to the wall. With a quick lift, he spread my legs and entered me again and I gasped. I closed my eyes and panted, reveling in the intensity of our passion. As my muscles tensed and my body buzzed with joy, I opened my eyes to look into his while I came.
Brennan’s solid green eyes looked back at me.
• • •
The dream faded fast and my breaths were heavy. Panic ran through me when I looked around, trying to figure out where I was and what had just happened. Betrayal of Thomas’s memory brought guilt with it that wouldn’t subside. I sat in the cold water with tears running down my face, then washed them away and climbed out of the stream.
I gave up on clearing my head and put on the little clothing I had, then walked back to camp to check on Brennan. He sat against the tree, finally awake, examining the stitch work I had done on his arm. As I came closer, he looked up me and blushed when he saw my nakedness, then averted his eyes.
“My apologies, I hadn’t realized you weren’t clothed,” he said quietly. My face flushed red as I remembered his roughness from the dream. His having manners now slightly cracked the fantasy of him.
“You are going to have to get used to it. I used my shirt for bandages,” I said.
He smiled and pulled a roll of cloth from his back pocket before handing it over. It was the cloth previously wrapped around my bust. It once again wrapped nicely against me, more loosely now since there was no longer a need to hide my identity.
“It would have been nice to know you had that the whole time; it would have made a better bandage,” I told him, but he simply smiled at me.
“How long was I out?” He looked up at my now-covered chest, then away again. The fantasy took another hit.
“You were out for three days,” I said. “I gave you water and kept your wound clean. You really need to get used to me without a shirt. We have a long trip, and if you can’t stop looking at the ground, I’m afraid you may knock yourself out by walking into a tree, which would make all the work I did to keep you alive pointless.”
He chuckled and looked up, unable to keep his gaze from my covered breasts.
“Maybe you can take a bath in the stream and cool off while I scavenge for food. You’ll need to clean the wound anyway.”
Without a word, he averted his eyes again and stood to head down to the stream. My gaze followed him as he went and my guilt multiplied, threatening to choke me.
It didn’t take long to find enough nuts and berries to help take the edge off our hunger. Brennan returned to camp a short time after I did. His bear-like body dripped with water from the river. Thomas had been toned from his military training and workouts, but Brennan was different. The muscles running over his body were the product of rigorous labor from working on ships. His veins showed with jagged cords threading through his massive arms and legs. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and was sure he could have been a contender against my friend’s stable boy. If he noticed my stares, he didn’t mention it, and for that I was grateful.
“The fight was to take place close to the Italian border,” he said, coming close, grabbing a pair of pants, and pulling them up. “If we fell there, we should be somewhere in France, possibly close to Lyon. I think finding shelter there will be our best bet. We can head out at first light.”
“Hadn’t the French sided with Italy?” I asked. “Won’t they just take us prisoner?”
He shook his head. “Actually, the French are trying to stay out of it, which is why we’re able to fly through their airspace. Though, you’re right, they will probably try to turn us over, but we don’t have any other options. We are half-clothed and berries aren’t going to get us far. If we can at least find some supplies, we may be able to buy some time. Remember, I am but a humble Irishman,” he said with a smile and a bow.
I giggled and handed some berries and a mixture of small nuts to him. “Yes, you are quite the humble little lamb,” I said with an arched eyebrow and he laughed. For the first time, we simply talked like normal people. He was quite funny, which helped calm my nerves. He probably never knew how much fear was running through me.
Sleep came quickly and my dreams set in even faster. Brennan’s hard body pressed against mine as he took me passionately. I closed my eyes and arched my head back in the throes of passion. When looking back to my lover, Thomas stared back, pressing his lips against mine, never stopping the rhythmic thrusts inside me.
I woke from my dream in a cold sweat. My stomach sickened at the thought of the scandalous dream that I just had. It was a betrayal of my marriage, my vows, and my very soul, and yet, it felt right. The dream made the pain subside, if only for a minute. Though Brennan wasn’t a proper gentleman, and treated me like a pack mule while we were on the Queen Victoria, I couldn’t help but think he only did it to save me. Even before he knew who I was, he had tried to help me. Wasn’t that what love was all about?
I looked over at Brennan and he stared back, concern etched on his features, then he looked away.
“It’s almost time to go,” he said. “You should wash up before we leave.”
The air was cool and the stream cooler. I washed away the sweat and dirt from the night’s rest. Goose pimples rose up on me with every touch of cold water. My thoughts were on my dreams and my betrayal. It was imperative to regain my composure before going back to Brennan after what had just run through my thoughts. The minutes passed and I focused on the cold, which helped contain my thoughts and allowed me to head back to camp.
Brennan had packed what little gear we had and handed me a small rodent he had cooked on the fire.
“Have you had anything to eat?” I asked.
“I will be fine.”
“Nonsense.” The rodent broke easily in half. “You are my best chance of survival. If you are too hungry to think straight, we are both as good as dead.” He stared at me for a moment, knowing he had been defeated, then took his share from my outstretched hand.
“By the way,” he said. “This came running after you when you passed out in the ship.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled something out before tossing it to me.
The watch landed in my hands and popped open. The picture of Thomas looked up at me and reminded me of the dream, forcing me to look away and close it. A tear ran down my cheek as I slid the watch into my pocket.
“Thank you.” I looked up to Brennan with a fake smile and brushed away the tear.
He shrugged. “If I had known something like that would make you so happy, I’d have given you an airtronicfisticon.”
Even though I had no clue what he was talking about, I laughed at the joke and we headed toward where he thought Lyon was.
The journey was a quiet and boring one. Brennan used a small screwdriver and a stick to spear us more food, and we collected nuts and berries as we came across them. We cooked quickly and the burned food was horrible to eat, but kept me satisfied. For two days we walked and camped, then walked some more. After the first day, he wasn’t as concerned with soldiers and we talked more, making the journey pass more swiftly.
As the light of the third day began to fade, we came across an old house, its roof caved in on one side. Brennan
made me stay back and he went to look for anyone who might be inside. He moved quietly around the perimeter and then finally inside the home, but he found no one. We decided to rest there for a couple of days before he headed out again.
The building had not been lived in for some time. Dust and leaves coated everything inside. As we explored the interior, Brennan told me he’d found two graves covered with grass while exploring the perimeter. He said the damage to the house looked like the results of cannon fire, likely from the war. Someone had cared enough to bury the owners, therefore we were close to finding help.
It didn’t take long to clean much of the greenery out of the house and start a fire in the fireplace. Brennan took his makeshift spear and went off to hunt. I asked why he didn’t just shoot dinner, to which he replied that he didn’t want to draw any attention to us, and then went to go play like a child. He wasn’t gone an hour before he came back with a beaming smile, like a schoolboy, rabbit in hand. I took it with a scowl and began preparing it for dinner.
“There’s a trunk of tattered clothing by the bed,” I said. “It will likely be small for you, but it is better than nothing.” I looked at his shirtless body when he was unaware, which helped pass the time, but he must have been cold on the journey. He rummaged through the clothes and pulled out a shirt that had obviously been used while working in the fields, but was loose and actually fit him nicely.
“Nice dress,” he said with a smile, still exhilarated from his hunt. The dirty blue-and-white dress had been made for someone many sizes larger than me, and ripping the sleeves and hem off made it a great deal more comfortable. Depending on my stance, it was quite revealing, and he had obviously noticed. The constant flirting he did continued to make me blush, but it also kept me from feeling alone. My dreams, however, were still filled with betrayal.
“Thank you.” I shifted enough so he could get a better view of me. “Did you see any crops out there?”
“No. But there was a crabapple tree that had some salvageable fruit.” He stood and headed out the door, coming back a few minutes later with an armful of crabapples. They went in the pot before I hung it on the fireplace hook and let it all cook. Brennan just stared at me before turning away, obviously ashamed.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“Are you ever going to talk about him?”
“Talk about whom?” I asked, knowing full well who he was talking about.
“Captain Summers.” He still couldn’t look at me.
My heart sped up and words failed me. Tears took over before they could be held back. No one had spoken his name in general conversation since I left, and now that I heard it in an casual tone, I knew for the first time that he was never coming back. Hyperventilation took my breath away, and a month’s worth of pent-up tears began to fall.
Brennan came to me, wrapped me up in his arms, and squeezed me tight. The closeness of his body distracted my sorrow and I turned to him, pressed my lips to his, and slid my tongue deep into his mouth. He pulled back in shock, but I grasped the front of his pants and pulled him back against me, kissing him hard again. His breaths sped up and he conceded the fight, pulling me closer. My hand slid down the front of his pants and slowly rubbed him, feeling him grow at my touch.
He pulled back and looked at me with savage eyes, his animalistic nature finally coming out to play, before spinning me around and bending my body over the table. He slowly lifted my dress and ran his hands over my buttocks and up my back.
A shiver ran up my body at the anticipation of him pushing himself inside me. Instead, he lowered himself and his moist lips pressed against me, slowly licking the wetness that had come, his scruffy face rubbing against my thighs. The feeling was more powerful than anything done to me before. My legs quivered at the excitement and he moved faster with his tongue. My moans could no longer be contained, which made him lick even faster. Seconds before a scream burst out of me, he stood and pushed his full length into me. His thickness slid in roughly and pain ran through me, becoming instantly dulled as he pulled out and thrust into me again. The pleasure muted the pain and my screams could no longer be held back.
Brennan dug his fingers into my hips and pulled me hard back to him. With every pull he pushed hard and another scream filled the tiny home. He slapped his body against mine quickly, and I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I pushed him out of me. He looked as I leaped onto him, sending both of us to the floor.
The months of isolation and pain had broken something in me. My proper upbringing had faded, and I was going to take what I wanted. He was like a great stallion and I mounted him like one. He threw his head back in pleasure as my hips shifted forward and back, rubbing him inside of me, and I ran my hands up and down his rock-hard body. I arched my back, riding him hard and fast like an animal. Sweat ran down me and a rush of pleasure filled my body before exploding over his hardness. He moaned and thrust deep into me before releasing himself inside me. He softened inside my body and I lay down on his chest, our breathing still fast and hard.
We said nothing for some time. I simply lay on him and he held me tight. In his arms, the world was no longer a scary place. My loss and my pain had gone, if only for a while, but as life has consistently shown me, it could not last.
“Sortez pacifiquement!” someone yelled from outside. Rolling off of Brennan, I grabbed my dress and pulled it down over me. Brennan leaped up, grabbed his gun, and ran to the window to look out outside.
“Come peacefully!” the voice called out again, this time in English.
Brennan looked at me wide-eyed before he dropped his gun. Confused, I went to the window and looked out. A giant robotic beast stood with guns pointed in our direction. If that wasn’t enough, there were a dozen soldiers surrounding him, and I knew there would be the same or more at the back of the house. There was no escape from this, and it would be better to surrender and hope the French would just give us back to England. If England even existed anymore.
We opened the door, held up our arms, and met our captors. The French had received communication of our presence; since the house that hadn’t been used in months now finally belched smoke from its chimney, we were easy to find.
As our run of bad luck continued, an Italian squad was waiting in town. The French gave us up to the Italians, who brought us here.
• • •
Mary looked up at her interrogators, waiting for them to pass judgment on her, or send her off to be tortured. They did nothing of the sort. Instead, they glanced at each other and sat back in their chairs, apparently thinking over what she had told them.
“It wasn’t necessary to discuss your marital pleasures and indiscretions,” one of the soldiers said.
Mary no longer cared what they would do to her, and decided not to hold back letting them know. “You wanted the whole story,” she said. “And by the looks of it, you enjoyed it.”
The man shifted in his seat and lowered some papers in front of him.
“You talk of us like we are some sort of monster,” another of the men said. “I was amused at the thought we would kill every Englishman we come across.” He let out a small chuckle.
“You come into our country and destroyed everything in your path.” She narrowed her eyes, her tone scathing. “Why would I not believe you’re willing to kill every one of us?”
The man simply laughed again.
“It is because they didn’t come into our country first, we came into theirs,” a voice said from the doorway behind her.
Mary turned slowly at the sound of the voice. All the blood rushed from her face and the room spun, bringing her to the floor. When things righted themselves, Thomas was squatted next to her, holding her hand. She pulled away, staring into his eyes, full of questions and no idea where to begin.
“Just breathe, my love,” he said with a half-cocked smile.
There was no way Mary could breathe, but could only stare. Words failed her and she simply looked at him, horrorstricken.
&n
bsp; Seeing her inability to calm herself, Thomas started to talk in a low, calming tone. “Italy had developed new advanced technologies that would make their army stronger than ours. We demanded they share their technology. They of course refused, as would we if the tables were turned.”
“What does this have to do with you being alive?” Mary shouted.
Thomas simply held up a hand patiently. “It was determined to be in our best interest to gain the technology at any cost. Since our citizens wouldn’t support a war they deemed unjust, we sent in a team to steal Italian ships and attack our own cities. Once they did this, the Queen and the Parliament gained full support in waging war on Italy.”
He paused and shook his head. “We never suspected they would be able to take us over.”
“As if we want your dirty country,” a man said. Thomas simply looked up at him and he quieted.
“My ship had intercepted an Italian transmission,” Thomas continued, “vaguely alluding to the truth of the situation, which horrified me. Since I had been in service since the beginning, I knew something didn’t seem right, and sent some of my men to discern the truth. They were able to get the true story from several drunken officials. We defected, and to cover it up, England declared us dead. I had sent someone to get you, but you were gone by the time they arrived. We even tried to send you a brain message with one of the neuralspeakinators, but the technology is too new and my connection with you only lasted a few seconds at a time. I am so very truly sorry, Mary.” His eyes were sorrowful as he looked at her.
Tears welled up in her eyes and the weight of her burden fell away. She leaped into his arms, holding him tight, and he embraced her back.
“I forgive any indiscretions,” he said, his jaw tight. “You thought me dead.”
The thought of Brennan hadn’t crossed her mind until that point. She pushed back slightly, looking at him, but before she could speak, he pressed a finger to her lips.
“Master Tinker Brennan is fine and being debriefed as we speak,” he said in an almost sad tone. “You love him, don’t you?”
Moments In Time: A Collection of Short Fiction Page 4