A Damsel In Distress • Dragon Fighter Romance Book 1 (Dragon Fighter Romance ~ Book 1)

by Brenda Williamson

  “Ware, I want you in me,” she wept.

  “I’m in you, Irisa.” He kissed her wet cheeks. “Close your eyes and think of me in you.”

  He pumped with short strokes. Each plunge went deeper, but not far enough. He’d pull back just short of penetrating fully. Once he stuck two fingers and three fingers, her channel was numb and clenching. She flexed her hips to take him in and he only pulled away.

  “Ware, don’t do this to me, please, I’m begging you.”

  The violent spasms sizzled like a fiery liquid through her veins.

  “Roll over.” He flipped her to her belly.

  He spread her legs and his knees positioned between hers.

  “What are you doing?” She tried looking back.

  “You wanted me in you.” He bent over her. “Relax as I enter.”

  She tensed at once. His fingers slid under and rubbed up through the split of her bottom. He massaged the ring of her anus and pressed his finger into her.

  “Ware.” She lifted at the hips.

  “I’ll be gentle.” He fingered her for a few minutes.

  She became anxious, excited and impatient. He replaced his finger with the head of his cock and stretched her with his size.

  “Oh God,” she panted in short breaths.

  The weight of his whole body came down on her as he filled her bottom. Resting on his hands, he flexed against her and forced himself deep. Each thrust at first, moved in and out slowly. As she grew accustomed, the pace quickened.

  His gentleness overwhelmed her and she garnered more sentiments from the experience than she was prepared to deal with. Ware’s muffled roar against her back complimented her whimpers and she soon found herself on her back and in his arms.

  Irisa pressed her face to the heated moisture of his neck and cried.

  “Shhh…” he murmured strange condolences.

  She didn’t want him to be sorry for anything and hugged him tightly until in the chaste repose of unconsummated lovers, they fell asleep in a tangle of their limbs.

  Before dawn, Irisa woke, kissed Ware for the last time, and went to her room. Her soul wept for her loss. Mechanically, she moved to get dressed. It took virtually no effort to remove the shift Ware ripped up the center.

  She tossed it aside and gave a small laugh at the way she loved his passion even if it ruined her clothes. Then, the reflection in the mirror grabbed her like a hypnotic beacon. She stared at her naked curves, glided a hand over each one, and remembered Ware’s strong caresses. It didn’t take much for her nipples to pucker in the coolness of the morning air. She traced the trail over her ripe breasts, down the middle of her belly and to the nest of damp ringlets. The touch of her middle finger made a sensitive connection and she withdrew.

  Ware brought her a profound joy and a disquieting heartache. She regretted not coupling with him and wished there was something she could have said to convince him how unimportant her virginity was in regards to her future husband. She didn’t care what Elan thought of her and she dreaded the idea he would touch her in the same ways Ware had.

  A Damsel in Distress: Chapter 5

  The touch of warm lips upon his forehead had awakened Ware. He knew then, to open his eyes would have meant to ravish Irisa for a lifetime.

  I will miss you, she had murmured, and her words made his lungs constrict, yet he had remained quiet and still and let her leave.

  Once the door clicked shut, he wasted no time in getting up and out of Mansfield Castle. He put the great distance between himself and Irisa, feeling it best for the peace of their land, only to arrive home to a harried servant.

  “Sir Pembroke, ‘tis good you are home. Your brother, Sir Henry has searched for you for three days” The squire took his horse. “He’s inside having a meal and has said afterward he’ll go back out searching.”

  “He’ll not have to do that now, will he?” Ware made his way toward the kitchen.

  “Where on earth have you been?” Henry looked up. “You said you were going to inspect the pastures and you didn’t come back.” He continued to slurp up his stew like a starving man.

  “I ended up pursuing a thief that stole one of my dragons.”

  “Did you catch him?”

  “No, but I did get back something else he was trying to abscond with.” Ware motioned for a servant to bring him food and he swung a leg over a chair to sit.

  “What was that?” Henry shoveled in another mouthful of food.

  “The most beautiful lady you’d ever want to see.” He poured a generous amount of ale into a goblet and drank it all. “She’s Lord Mansfield’s daughter and she’s getting married today to Elan Tulane.”

  “Uh-huh, that was informative.” He pushed back his chair. “Ware Pembroke is in love?”

  “That’s absurd. I just met the lady. She tried to stab me and if that weren’t enough, she bit my lip and tried to drown me. She’s trouble and Tulane will have his hands full with her.” Ware dumped the information as if he’d be free of Irisa. He even tried to believe the lie.

  “What does she look like? Pretty, I understand. Other details?” Henry gave him a lopsided and teasing grin.

  “You’ve had to have seen her. Didn’t you say you went to Mansfield a few times?”

  “That was a few years ago. You’re not talking about that snippy little girl with the long blonde hair, are you?”

  Ware waved his hands forming an hourglass shape. “She’s not so little anymore. You should have paid attention. She’s all woman now and a very—” He stopped short of saying desirable and passionate. Irisa wasn’t the kind of lady a man should boast of gaining favors from.

  “You’re in love.” Henry laughed. “Why didn’t you just cart the girl home and marry her before anyone had a chance to think twice?”

  Ware ignored the joke. It would start a war they were not able to handle. Tulane would seek vengeance and Lord Mansfield would no doubt want his head. It was better to leave well enough alone even though the idea had crossed his mind.

  Getting up from the table, having lost his appetite, Ware removed his day armor and handed it to a servant that stepped forward. “I’ve got work to do.”

  “That’s it?” Henry stood as well since he had finished eating. “You’re not going to do anything to stop the lady from marrying Tulane? Even if you don’t want her for yourself, I would think you’d try and prevent her from ending up in the hands of that cur.”

  “I expect she’s his wife by now, and regardless, her life is no business of mine.”

  The talk with Henry made him feel worse. Irisa’s happiness had come to mean a lot to him.

  ***

  The fleeting idea of running away didn’t stop Irisa from thinking of other ways to get out of her marriage. She headed to find her father and make new suggestions. If it weren’t for her uncle, her father would never have talked her into marrying Elan.

  Irisa stopped at the voices behind a door.

  “Tomorrow will set all my plans in action.” Elan bragged. “After Irisa is my wife, what choice will her father have in allowing me control of his lands?”

  She pressed her ear harder to the wood and waited for someone to answer.

  “It was a wonderful plan to kidnap her, wasn’t it? She couldn’t have picked a better time than now. I had begun wondering if she’d ever do another one of her disappearing acts. The perfect twist to all of this is blaming everything on Lord James. I can’t believe how I’ve manage to make those two brothers hate each other over the past year.”

  There was some laughter and Irisa felt uneasy at the familiarity, but she couldn’t place the voice of the person with Elan. The shuffle of feet near the door made her step away.

  She pressed her fingers to her trembling lips. Her father wouldn’t believe her if she told him—too many lies in the past.

  Ware. She rushed into his room and found him gone. Sneaking downstairs, she skirted the great hall and crossed the dinning room to the kitchens. She paused at a table and too
k a chunk of bread.

  “Not running off on your wedding day now are you, Irisa?” William grabbed her arm as she rounded the outside of the castle into the courtyard.

  “Why no,” she squeaked in surprise. “I was—” She looked at the bread in her hand with an ingenious plan. “I was just going for a walk to get some air. ‘Tis a lovely morning. Would you like to join me while I feed the ducks?”

  “I have things to do this morning, but you have fun.” He patted her arm. “Don’t be too long. You have a wedding to get ready for.”

  “Yes, I know.” She watched him walk off.

  A man stood beyond the gates to the far side of the mote. Irisa ran down the bridge, around the lane and stopped in front of him by the pond.

  “I need your horse,” she gasped, out of breath.

  “M’lady?”

  “Horse, I n-need him,” she panted. “Unhitch the animal and when I get back I’ll compensate you well.”

  “Tis not necessary M’lady. Thee can keep the beast, but I must warn you, he’s a terrible creature.” He took the harness off and tied a rope around his gray muzzle.

  “What’s wrong with him?” She put a hand to her chest and took a slower breath.

  Before the man answered, she bounced up with a fist of mane in her hand and swung a leg over his back.

  “Blasted thing is always too much in a hurry,” he yelled.

  She kicked the horse in the flanks. “Run like the wind boy. I’ll not hold you back.”

  Racing across the pasture, Irisa glanced back to see if anyone followed. As she rode over the hill, she studied the forest. Ware was a chancy choice in that he might believe her, yet not get involved. Heading north, she traveled for the home of her uncle, Lord James Mansfield, and prayed that the feud between her father and his brother really had been contrived by Elan’s interference.

  The horse galloped and took every turn sharply. Irisa locked her knees to his shoulders and hung on. The log in the path was unforeseen and when the horse tripped, Irisa landed hard. An excruciating pain shot through her leg. Her father would cringe at the slew of foul words that rolled easily off her tongue.

  “Sure, you got right back up on your feet,” she spoke to the horse as she examined the deep gouge in her thigh from a jagged limb. Ripping her gown open further, she tore a strip from her under-dress to tie a tourniquet around her leg to stop the bleeding.

  Rain clouds had hovered all morning, making her bleak day even gloomier. Now the the rain fell and she glared at the sky with disdain.

  “Haven’t I enough problems?” she cried and rolled over to get up.

  The burning in her leg left her weakly unable to move and she dropped down on her stomach. Laying there for a moment, letting the sting subside into a throbbing numb ache, she finally flopped over onto her back.

  Irisa loosened the tourniquet until she felt a tingling to her leg. Then stuffing a wad of her torn dress in her mouth to bite down on, she pushed up and got to her feet.

  Spitting the cloth out, she rested against the horse. “I don’t suppose I can get you to kneel down for me?” She grasped the mane on the horse. “Oh God, this is going to hurt.” She bent her knees and with more push from her good leg, she sprung up and landed over the bareback of the horse on her belly.

  “If you only knew how I was in this very position a couple days ago on the back of a dragon, you could laugh with me.”

  Carefully, she rose up and dragged her leg over the rump of the horse so she could sit. Grasping the reins, she slung her mop of wet hair back. “Let’s go, boy. Not too fast this time.” She gave a pat to his neck and a kick to his left flank.

  The rain continued without mercy. Before she knew it, she sensed they were moving in circles. If not trailing over the same area, then they were at the very least, lost.

  “I don’t think I can go much further,” she whispered, leaning forward on the horse’s neck. “If I fall, promise not to leave me.”

  Irisa closed her eyes.

  “Ware,” she breathed his name as the darkness took over her mind.

  ***

  Even though Ware had things to do, he sat in the chair for several hours rethinking his life. He’d done a lot, been many places, saw things in battle he’d not like to see again. A wife had not been a goal and yet that’s all he thought of since meeting Irisa.

  “Sir Pembroke?” His squire interrupted his silent stupor. “Sir William Milstead is here to see you.”

  William had followed the squire and Ware rose from his chair.

  “Pembroke, she has to come back.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ware ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his head. The throbbing at the back came from lack of sleep and too much ale.

  “Irisa’s not here?” William looked around the room in disbelief.

  “Why would she be?”

  “I assumed… The way you two were acting, I thought maybe—”

  “Maybe what?” Henry asked entering the room. “That my brother would steal another man’s betrothed and have a war over a woman?”

  “Lady Mansfield is no ordinary woman.” Milstead’s voice hinted at infatuation.

  “I’m tried of battling for any cause.” Ware said.

  “Forgive me. I should have known better. Irisa makes it a habit to vanish without word to anyone.”

  “Do you think kidnappers?” Ware recalled her early abduction.

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Where does she usually go?” He walked across the room to where his armor lay.

  “I don’t know… unless… Her uncle. She mentioned this morning how she should have gone to Lord James. She’s not happy with the rift between her father and uncle. She thought if given the chance, she might do something herself.”

  “She appears to be an intelligent woman.”

  “This is not good, Ware. We have proof it was Lord James’s men that kidnapped her. If she’s gone to him, then she’s in danger.”

  Ware needed no more said.

  “Henry, get my dragon saddled.” Ware pushed William toward the door. “We shall go with you to find Irisa.”

  It didn’t take them long to get started, but the rain set in and Ware cursed the foul weather for slowing them down.

  While he flew high, Henry flew low and William rode on a horse. Circling areas of the forest and sweeping straight over pastures, they searched the terrain.

  “There,” Henry yelled, pointing toward a semi-clear area.

  Wave dove toward the open spot and saw what Henry had, the horse standing near a tree. He jumped before the dragon landed, while his brother was already on the ground hovering over Irisa.

  “She doesn’t look so good, Ware.” Henry checked her leg. “She’s lost a lot of blood, look how white she is.”

  A nervous laugh escaped Ware. “She’s fair-skinned, Henry. Irisa’s always this pale. Now find Milstead and lead him here.”

  While Henry was gone, Ware carried Irisa to a sheltered area of dense forest. He washed the blood and mud from her leg and bandaged it with a strip of cloth he tore from her gown. Once he was done, William arrived on his horse and Henry on his dragon.

  “We should get her back to her father and Tulane.” William dismounted and rushed to them.

  “She can’t ride, ‘tis raining, and she’s hurt.” Henry told him.

  Ware couldn’t think of letting her go back to Elan. The man didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as she was.

  “You go and tell them she’s alright,” Ware said. “Henry and I’ll stay here until the rain lets up and then I’ll fly Irisa home. Do you have a blanket on your horse?

  “Yes.” Milstead knelt.

  “I’ll get it.” Henry offered.

  “The rain isn’t too bad. You should get her back to the castle now.” William inspected Irisa’s leg. “She needs this taken care of.”

  “In a few hours, the rain will let up and then we’ll go.” Ware wasn’t going to argue his decision and
his tone seemed to be enough.

  “Very well, I’ll inform Tulane you have her.” Milstead stalked away.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Henry asked Ware once Milstead was gone. “Doesn’t he see she’s not able to travel yet?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he doesn’t want the backlash of being the messenger with the bad news.” Ware sat with Irisa in his arms and bent his head over her face to keep the rain off.

  “Ware?” Henry held up a tunic with Lord James Mansfield’s colors and emblem on it. “I think Milstead has a little more explaining when next we meet.”

  “Maybe he found it or caught one of the kidnappers.” Ware wrinkled his brow in thought while Henry fixed them a shelter. “He said they had proof it was Lord James’s men that kidnapped Irisa.”

  Henry shrugged, but Ware saw the skepticism in his brother’s face. Ware, too, didn’t like the feeling he got that Milstead had appeared nervous and his departure was rather quick.

  “All set.” Henry crawled over to him. “Not the comforts of home, but it’ll keep the rain off our heads for a while.”

  Ware carried Irisa into the small, tented area. He wiped the rain-moistened face of the only love he’d known. She was a gift, a treasure of desire, and she weighted his heart with all a man wanted in a woman’s gaze.

  Her eyes sleepily opened and looked at him. The twinkle of happiness was enough to see he had been right in feeling more than a mild affection. She had a place in her heart for him.

  “Ware.”

  His name on her lips flooded him with the memories of their most intimate moments.

  He placed a hand on her face and caressed the cheek she nestled in his palm. For a moment, they were alone. Henry’s cough brought them aware that they were not.

  “There is someone I want you to meet,” Ware said.

  She smiled and turned her head.

  “Lady Mansfield, may I present my brother, Sir Henry.”

  “‘Tis a pleasure, Sir Henry. It’s an honor to meet another noble knight from the house of Pembroke.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, M’lady. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll give you some time alone.” Henry left them.