“Aye.” he grated out.
Ever so slowly she released him, drawing her eyes back to his. “Touch me, Nicholas. Make me yours.”
“Aye,” he growled and he swept her into his arms.
She buried her face into his neck, curling her fingers into his chest hair as he carried her over to the damp straw that had collected in one corner. He cursed that he could not take her in a better setting, though, in his mind, the only place that would be good enough for his Annabel would be the heavens. And Lord knows he would never see them.
As he laid her down gently, she seemed oblivious to the scratchy straw and was focused entirely on him. What he had done to deserve such a look he would never understand but he was too far gone now to question it.
In spite of the agonising ache of his manhood, he was determined to savour every precious moment with Annabel and he positioned himself next to her, propping himself up on his elbow so he could take in the full glory of her.
Spreading her silken hair about her, he fingered the waves as they fell over her breasts and hips. She rose to meet his touch, her eyes flickering shut and her lips parting in a quiet moan. Silently he traced his finger down her profile, pausing to dip into her parted mouth. Her tongue instinctively darted out to meet his fingertip and he groaned at her unknowing invitation. Nicholas’ shaking fingers continued down the delicate arch of her neck before dipping between her breasts and circling around each nipple.
“Nicholas,” she whimpered.
He didn’t respond - his throat was too clogged with emotion to even try. Instead he answered her with a searing kiss as he clasped his hand around her breast, his fingers scraping over her hardened nipple. Annabel met his kiss eagerly but he pulled back before she could draw him in too deeply. His control - the control that he so prided himself on - was being sorely tested by this angel and he had no wish to ravish her, as much as his body said otherwise.
Ignoring her sounds of protest, he forced himself back and she soon quietened when he laid kisses upon her sheening skin. She writhed underneath him, gasping at each touch of his lips upon her flesh. Nicholas kissed down her collar bone, lavishing attention on her breasts before moving down, brushing over her quivering belly. His fingers finally tracked a path to the juncture of her thighs and he admired her before stroking across the sweet damp heat that awaited him.
Annabel jolted at the touch, but he placed a large, reassuring hand on her stomach, holding her down before tentatively touching his tongue to her folds.
She jerked as bolt of sensation rumbled through her, setting her skin alight. “Nicholas!”
Quickly overcoming her shock, she marvelled at the teasingly blissful feeling of his mouth upon her sex and she answered his every move with a thrust of her hips as her hands coiled, unknowingly, around his head. A rumble of pleasure at her response erupted from Nicholas, causing her enjoyment to increase until she was thrashing, grabbing wildly at the straw around her. When she felt she could take no more, Nicholas slid a finger into her slick heat and she exploded, crying out in surprise and wonder.
A luxurious lethargy cascaded over her and she looked at Nicholas with heavy lidded satisfaction, not realising what a seductive image she made with a lust swollen mouth and a flush upon her cheeks. He slowly crawled his way back up to her, his large muscular body covering hers. He was careful not to place his weight upon her, as if afraid he would break her, but she enjoyed the feel of his hard thigh settling between her legs and his solid chest pressed against her sensitive skin. Annabel brushed her hands over his rolling muscles, using her fingers to sketch a path over each individual muscle, as he framed her head with his hands
They both watched her hand, as if unable to believe what was about to happen, and then locked eyes. His dark eyes were filled with an indefinable intensity but Annabel knew without question that it was the same love and desire that was likely written in her own expression. His mouth stayed in a grim line in spite of the obvious pleasure he took from having her beneath him.
Her forefinger tracked the line of his mouth and she smiled. “Why so serious, Sir Knight?”
Nicholas’ throat worked. “I do not wish to hurt you.”
Annabel knew she should be nervous – she had heard enough servants’ gossip to understand that the first time could be painful - but the knowledge that Nicholas was her fate somehow dissipated any unease and as he looked at her with such love she could do little else other than coax him forwards with her hands on his buttocks.
In response he settled between her legs, burrowing his head into her hair and kissing at her neck. Cautiously he edged towards her as he nipped and sucked at her ear, mayhap in a bid to distract her. Little could distract her from the hard heat of him as he brushed against her and finally found entrance. With a hurried thrust, he pushed into her, filling her completely. She cried out at the sudden pain, tears forming as she clenched her eyes shut to block out the discomfort.
He waited then, apologising again and again in whispers, brushing the tears from her cheeks. As the sting dissolved, she became aware of a budding heat, deep in the pit of her stomach, and the awareness spread as she finally registered the joy of their union. Nicholas must have been aware of the change as he pulled his head from the crook of her neck to meet her gaze. Tears glittered in his eyes and he pressed a fierce kiss to her lips.
Cautiously, he pushed forwards and Annabel intuitively responded to the slight movement with the raising of her hips. He inhaled sharply as the movement brought him in deeper than Annabel thought possible. She mourned the loss of the pressure in her when he pulled back but was immediately gratified once more when he lunged again, causing a delightful friction.
Her hands traced over his face, meshing into his short hair and pulling him down to kiss her as he surged forwards again and again, each push more powerful than the last. Her breath came in gasps as his tongue delved into her mouth, meeting hers with the same urgency as his hips.
“No-one else but you,” he murmured breathlessly against her lips. “There will never be anyone else.”
Annabel could only whimper as the onslaught of passion took hold of her, her thoughts no different from his. Clutching at him as if her life depended on it, the pressure built and built as he drove himself into her, until finally he pushed his hands under her buttocks, lifting her so that the depth of his next thrust completely unravelled her, shattering her in every way.
She watched the face of the man she loved crumple as he unleashed his own passion, hoarsely calling her name as he did so.
Panting, he rested his damp forehead on hers, closing his eyes as they lay joined.
Holding his rough jaw in her hands, she smiled contentedly. “I love you, Nicholas.”
His eyes flew open and he shot away from her, unceremoniously detangling himself from her limbs, leaving her sprawled in bewilderment. Snatching his shirt, he yanked it over his head and fell to his knees, closing his eyes and bringing his hands together in prayer.
Annabel watched with concern as his lips moved silently, seemingly repeating the same words over and over. Slipping her bliaut on, she ignored the laces as she knelt in front of him, drawing his clasped hands away from his face. He opened his eyes, the troubled look behind them stabbing at her heart.
“What is it, Nicholas? Why do you pray?”
He licked at his dry lips. “I am praying for forgiveness. You are an angel and I have taken your innocence. ‘Twas an act of sin.”
Hiding the stab of hurt that his words caused, she gripped at his clenched hands. “I am no angel; I am a woman, as you are a man. This was no sin.”
“Annabel, I have sinned you in so many ways. If you knew…”
“Hush now, ‘twas my choice to offer myself to you. I know what is in your heart and ‘tis not sin.”
Nicholas shook his head but allowed her to settle a tender kiss on his lips as they knelt in front of each other. Unable to stop himself, he returned the kiss, cradling her face in his hands, in spite of
the harrowing guilt that settled in his gut. He would have to tell her, he realised. Somehow.
The wet sound of feet crushing straw penetrated his guilt riddled mind and he turned to the source of the sound. A tall, slender figure was outlined in the doorway and, recognising it immediately, Nicholas jumped to his feet, hauling Annabel with him and forcing her behind the protection of his body. His eyes searched wildly for his sword but he realised that it was still discarded in the middle of the room. Hell fire, he’d failed. He had let his desire get the better of him and now Annabel would pay for his weakness.
As Lord Benedict strode into the room, his large henchman followed, holding out a flickering torch that caused them both to squint. Annabel gasped as she recognised her uncle’s face and Nicholas felt her tremble as she gripped at his shirt.
The lord looked over them both with an amused grin, taking note of Nicholas’ bare legs and his niece’s unbound bliaut. “Well, how charming. It appears I have interrupted your little tryst. And rather too late it seems…”
“What do you want?” Nicholas hissed.
The older man smiled, pulling off a glove and drawing it through his other hand as he contemplated them. “I want my niece back.”
Nicholas frowned; fear and confusion surging through him. He already struggled to understand why the man would hire an assassin only to attempt to kill her himself but now he wanted her returned to him? Whatever Lord Benedict’s plan was, he had no intention of letting Annabel loose into his scheming hands.
“You shall have to kill me first.”
Lord Benedict chuckled, motioning to Godfrey to step forwards. The torchlight caught on the steel of his sword that was angled menacingly at them.
“I should kill you for despoiling and kidnapping my niece.”
Annabel stepped forwards, even as Nicholas tried to force her back. “Uncle, he did not kidnap me! He rescued me. At your bidding!”
“Nay, he is a wicked man. Indeed, I was misled about his character and for that I am gravely sorry, dear Niece.
She shook her head in confusion. “Nay, he is my protector.”
Nicholas could feel the world crumbling away beneath his feet. The lord looked at him smugly and Nicholas knew that he had lost already. He had failed his angel.
“What say you, Nicholas? Is your soul not damned to hell for all your wicked deeds?” Lord Benedict questioned tauntingly.
Annabel looked between the two men, her beautiful grey eyes begging for him to say otherwise.
Ignoring her uncle and the threat of the sword pointed at him, he gripped Annabel’s arms. He couldn’t lie but he would not lose her trust, not now. “I am your protector, Annabel, pray believe that.”
She nodded resolutely. “I do.”
Her uncle’s man used the opportunity to grab Nicholas and Annabel cried out as Godfrey’s sword came across his neck, pinning him back.
Lord Benedict came up beside him, snarling quietly into his ear. “You will tell her to go with me or you shall die.”
“Never,” he growled.
“Very well. Annabel?”
Lord Benedict held out his hand to Annabel who cautiously moved forwards. Nicholas struggled against Godfrey and was rewarded with the sting of the blade slicing ever so lightly into his skin.
Annabel saw the trickle of blood and froze. “Uncle, pray do not kill him. I beg of you.”
He tilted his head, considering her down his long nose. “Will you return home with me then, Niece? Alderweald Castle is no longer under the control of the rebels and you have no need to fear.”
She darted a glance to Nicholas, who shook his head as vigorously as he could with a blade to his throat.
“Do I have aught to fear from you, Uncle?”
“Of course not, my child. Was I not your mother’s favourite brother? Was I not devoted to her every need and therefore her daughter’s too?”
Annabel stared at his proffered hand with hesitation before reaching out to take it, glancing with fear at the steel set against Nicholas’ throat. The lord pulled her roughly beside him and as Nicholas was about to shout out, he flicked the blade of a dagger in front of her. Her eyes widened in fear and she tried to wrench her hand free.
“Annabel, I suggest you behave yourself unless you want to be responsible for the death of your brave knight here?”
Ceasing her struggles, she turned to Benedict. “So ‘twas true, you were trying to kill me!”
Benedict flicked a secretive grin to Nicholas and he waited apprehensively for the truth to be revealed.
“Oh, there’s a little more to it than that, but all shall be revealed in good time. Now, will you come quietly or shall we see blood spilled here this day?”
Nicholas couldn’t allow her to go with him. Whatever the lord’s plan was, he doubted Annabel would be left alive for long. With all his might, he pushed on Godfrey’s arm, forcing the sword away long enough for him to slip out of his grip. Thundering towards Benedict, he slammed into him, knocking him to the floor with a thud. The older man struggled under his weight but was no match for him.
“Flee, Annabel. Now!” he shouted when he realised Annabel remained in the hut. She hesitated, apparently unwilling to leave him. Her indecision gave Godfrey enough time to rush forwards with his sword, pricking the tip into Nicholas’ side.
Nicholas kept his weight pressed upon Benedict. There was still time for her to run, if she would only go! “Annabel, run!”
The sword tip pressed into his side, imbedding itself carefully into the top layer of his skin, not intended to kill but just enough to hurt. He let out an involuntary cry and Annabel rushed forwards, putting her hand on Godfrey’s sword arm.
“Nay! I will do whatever you ask, just do not kill him.”
Benedict gave a strangled laugh. “Release him, Godfrey. Take my niece to her mount and tie her securely to it. Nicholas will not harm me now.”
Nicholas cursed as he felt the pressure of the blade ease and he watched Godfrey escort Annabel out of the hut. Why had she not just run? He had been more than willing to die in order for her to make an escape. Instead she had offered herself to her uncle to save his life.
Grabbing Benedict by his mantle, he hauled the lord to his feet. “I shall not let you kill her.”
Benedict gave him a cool look. “As long as I have you, it seems my niece will do aught, including giving up her beloved keep. You may prove useful to me yet.”
“Why bring me into this? You planned to kill her all along did you not?”
“Nay, you stupid fool.” Benedict tore himself away from his grasp. “If you had not decided to turn on me none of this would have been necessary, but you had to fall for my niece’s ample charms. Imagine that, a heartless man falling in love!”
Nicholas couldn’t deny his allegations. “But why have me followed?”
Benedict grinned. “Ah, well, that was to ensure we could arrest you for murdering my poor beloved niece.”
Nicholas frowned. “You are beyond mad, Benedict. I would have revealed your role in all of this had you had me arrested.”
“Nay, Nicholas. You would not have lived long enough.”
“Why the fire?”
“That was Godfrey’s mistake there, I’m afraid. Things had changed and I had no need of you. He had thought you were in there and intended to do away with you in a tragic accident. I was most dissatisfied to hear it had not worked but now it seems I may have use for you yet. The king was not as easily swayed as I had hoped so I have need of a confession of treachery from Annabel. You may well help me gain that…” he told him with a smirk.
Nicholas considered all of this. Why had he not seen that naught with Lord Benedict was to be simple? But he had. He had known this was to be no simple job. Lord Benedict had come up with some convoluted plan to exact revenge and gain power by using him. He could not regret accepting the job though, for it had given him Annabel and offered him the chance to save his soul. While he still lived and breathed he would fulfil his d
uty. He would ensure Annabel yet lived. And with that Benedict would die.
Benedict motioned to the small doorway. “Now that you have all your answers, shall we?”
Chapter 8
Annabel found her herself saddled with her hands bound to the reins. She kept her attention on the hut, waiting for Nicholas and her uncle to emerge as Godfrey ruthlessly yanked on the reins, causing them to bite into her skin.
She released a breath as they stepped out of the hut, Nicholas walking in front of her uncle. He had at least allowed him to dress but Annabel found herself worried that he would get cold. She chided herself for foolish thoughts; there were many more dangers to consider than the weather.
Nicholas glanced at her, taking in her bound hands, and she saw him snarl in anger, but he seemed to restrain himself. His eyes were full of determination and it leant her hope. There was still a chance that they would make it out of this alive.
Her eyes narrowed as Benedict gave her a satisfied grin. How had she not seen the evil that simmered beneath his cold eyes? It was true that her uncle had doted on her mother but since her death, he had revealed little of that man. Annabel had assumed that he was still grieved by her death and was just grateful for his assistance. Nicholas had been right, she was too trusting. Too willing to believe that there was good in everyone.
Godfrey motioned for Nicholas to hold his hands out in front of him and he did so willingly, his eyes never leaving her. His hands were tied like hers, but instead of being placed onto one of the mounts, he was tethered to her horse. Annabel realised they were going to force him to walk the journey and he would have little opportunity to rest. Her heart sank; Nicholas was going to pay dearly for offering her his protection.
“Uncle, pray you cannot expect him to walk? Surely he will just hinder our progress?” she added in the hopes of appealing to her uncle’s practical side.
Benedict looked from her to Nicholas as he pursed his lips. “Mayhap you wish to walk instead, Annabel?” He turned to Nicholas. “What say you, shall she take your place?”
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