She turned her gaze to him but he wasn't paying her any mind. He was focused on the spot between her legs. She gasped at the intent look on his face. Slowly he rubbed his thumb across his lips, sending a shock of heat straight to her center. He wanted to kiss her there. She knew that's what he was thinking of. Her body clenched in response.
"Emeline, I grow weary of this game. The rest if you please."
With trembling fingers she reached for the ties on her hips. She unlaced them and the last bit of silk fell away. Her courage deserted her as she tried to cover herself with her hands. It was all for naught. Her breasts were nearly spilled over her arm and her hand did little to distract him from his perusal of her flesh.
"Lower your hands."
She was hot and cold all over as she did as he asked. She stood as still as a statue as he looked her over. She could feel the trail of heat that his eyes left behind as he slowly looked her up and down. He lingered over her most private places until she had to close her eyes in shame.
"I will never forgive you for this!"
"I know."
**********
Rowan stared at the proud beauty before him. He would tame her, no matter what the cost. He knew she hated standing before him this way. He nearly hated himself for making her do it. But by God, she belonged to him and he would have every bit pleasure from her. And what pleasure she was bringing him already.
He'd enjoyed her in bed more than he thought possible but this was different. He'd never taken the time to really appreciate her extraordinary beauty this way. He soaked it in, ignoring the fiery looks she threw him now and then. Her beautiful face. The long neck and proud shoulders. Those high and generously rounded breasts. Her tiny waist and sweetly rounded hips. Her long shapely legs. And of course, the secret place that so delighted him nestled between her silky thighs.
Finally he stood when he could no longer fight the urge to touch her… taste her… he drew closer and realized she'd been crying. The sight of her wet cheeks gave him pause. But nothing would stop him from taking her now. From proving his mastery over her once and for all. She would not be able to resist him when he brought her to pleasure again and again.
He would make her love him again.
She had to.
He circled her slowly, running his finger tips lightly over the skin on her belly, shoulders, chest. When he was behind her he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her neck in a long and lingering kiss, letting his hands explore her sweetly rounded bottom. He reached forward and grasped her breasts firmly. She moaned and tried to move away from his touch but he was inescapable. He toyed with her body and was rewarded by a soft sigh. One hand slid down to her apex and slid inside her without preamble.
He moaned at the soft silkiness of her sheath. Her opening was dewy with arousal. She was ready for him.
He smiled in satisfaction. He would take her as a man who was only focused on his own pleasure would take a woman he had bought for his use. Then he would keep her on the brink all night, giving her surcease only when dawn lit the sky.
She would beg for him to take her as he had before, with kindness and an eye to her pleasure. But that was when she'd been obedient. He would patiently explain that this was her punishment for running away from him… for her refusal to perform her duties for him. He could have her any way he wanted, and right now he wanted her driven mad by unfulfilled desire.
"Get on the bed please Emeline."
She moaned as he pulled his hand from her sex. He gave her a gentle push toward the bed. She crawled onto it and sat on her knees, staring at the coverlet. He pulled his clothes off slowly, unwilling to reveal how desperate he was for her. He reminded himself that he was teaching her a lesson. He wanted to give something to compare his love making too. He wanted to show her how cold men could be.
"Lay down."
She complied, her head turned away from him. He reached out and stroked her body, touching where he wanted to touch. His hands slid to her sex again and he took a moment to be sure she was well prepared. She was still new to this and he did not want to hurt her. It was a long night of vigorous use he had in mind for her.
He could not resist the urge to taste her, his mouth sliding over her plump lips teasingly. He allowed himself only a few moments between her thighs before he lifted himself up and guided his cock to her entry. She had her eyes closed tightly as he stared down at her. She was resisting him still… he would put an end to that.
Rowan slid into her body with a groan. Her tight sheath enveloped him, sending fissures of ecstasy through his body. He didn't take his time once he was inside her, just thrust into her again and again until he felt his lust rise to overtake him. It did not take long before he was moaning as his seed filled her, his shaft lurching in release.
Emeline had started to respond to his hasty rutting but had yet to find her release. That was as he had planned it. He spent the next few minutes touching and stroking her to keep her aroused and then took her again, this time from behind.
He pressed her face down onto the pillows, turning it gently to the side. Then he grasped her hips as he would hold a bridle and plunged into her sweetness. Her body welcomed him in, despite the look of mulish rebellion he'd seen on her face. Her arousal was increasing tenfold despite his less than gentle treatment of her. He thrust with renewed vigor into her sweetness. He would take what he wanted of her. She would surrender to him. She would acknowledge that he treated her well.
Damn her.
All he'd wanted to do was coddle and love her when she'd awoke from her fever. Now he was forced to make this show of strength. He grunted as her body clenched down on him in an unconscious response. He stopped moving, waiting for her to back away from the precipice. And then he began again. He kept going until he climaxed with a mighty groan, being sure that she found no such pleasure in the act.
He took her twice more before dawn, finally allowing her to find her peak the last time. She'd been beside herself, mindlessly writhing beneath him as he looked down on her in satisfaction. Her response had been intoxicating. The shy and proper young lady was gone. In her place was a lust crazed goddess. He found his release at the same moment as her, pouring his essence into her.
He woke up a little later, when the sky was already light. He reached for Emeline but she was gone. He cursed and reached for his clothes. If she had run again he would be forced to punish her more severely this time… He was half dressed before he saw her sitting in the window casement. She wore her chemise with her arms wrapped around her and her knees pulled tightly against her chest. She looked so small- almost like a child until he turned her to face him.
A chill came into his heart when he saw the look in her eyes. She looked right through him. But it was worse than that. Her dazzling green eyes looked flat and uncomprehending.
The spark had gone out of them.
Nine
Emeline went about her chores as a ghost. She was lost in a world of her own torment. The boy she had once loved had become her puppet master, controlling her in every sense of the word. She did not eat, drink or bath without his leave.
That was little compared to what he did to her at night.
It had been two weeks since she had woken from her fever dream. Nearly three weeks since she'd run away. He was still punishing her for her acts of rebellion, large and small.
A shiver ran through her as she recalled what he had done just the night before. He'd strapped her to his bed with lengths of supple leather and toyed with her endlessly. He'd started with a feather, stroking her in a way that should have tickled. But it did not tickle. It burned. She'd been thrashing in her restraints by the time he'd used his hands on her, and then his mouth. He'd brought her to the edge of reason over and over again.
Well before daybreak she lost the last shred of control, along with her dignity. He had been triumphant when he finally entered her, riding her slowly until she wept from the pleasure of it.
She should hate him for his
mastery over her body. But she could not. She'd seen the look of regret in his eyes when she wept in the early light of day. She'd felt the tenderness in his touch when he untied her from the leather straps. And she'd received his love when he'd finally taken her in his arms and given them both the release they craved.
Emeline carried the freshly dug up potatoes to the store room. She was doing the work of the lowest servant gladly despite his order to rest. No, because of his order. She acknowledged on some level that she was defying him again but she did not care. What more could he do to her? He would not harm her physically, lest he be deprived of his pet.
Perhaps he did not realize that he was driving her mad. More likely, he did not care.
He had what he wanted of her. She could not deny it anymore.
He owned her, body and soul.
Even if she ever gathered the strength to run away, she would require twice that not to come running back. To beg him to take her in his arms again.
Her prison was truly complete at last.
**********
Rowan stared at the missive in his hands. He realized the messenger was standing there, waiting for a reaction. He tossed him a gold coin.
"No reply. Go to the kitchens and tell them I said to fill your belly. You can sleep in the stables."
"Thank you my lord."
My lord.
He was still getting used to that. He forced himself to focus on the King's letter. He was coming this way and wished to spend the night at Fairhaven. He would arrive either tonight or tomorrow. He knew he should tell Emeline to prepare but he loathed to disturb her rest. He'd kept her awake till dawn last night.
In truth he'd kept her awake every night for weeks. He could non seem to help himself. He had started out trying to prove a point but now it seemed he could only reach her when she had lost control. Up until that moment she remained separate, distant from him. He spent each night tormenting her until she let go and gave in to him. Every night he had driven her harder. And every night she had proven no match for his clever fingers and seeking tongue.
But still he wanted more from her. He craved her total surrender. He wanted her heart.
He was very quickly becoming obsessed.
And yet she was withering away. He was watching painfully as she slowly seemed to disappear, becoming more fragile looking by the day. Of course, it only served to heighten her loveliness, and his desire to protect her.
He must stop. He knew he must stop before she disappeared altogether. If she would not come to him willingly he would woo her until she did. That's what he should have done from the beginning. If only he'd known about the ring, that she'd regretting breaking her oath to him, then maybe…
Rowan looked up and saw her carrying something down the narrow passageway that led to the kitchen. He frowned. She looked bent and broken, barely paying attention to where she was going.
This must stop. Now.
"Emeline."
She froze at the sound of his voice. He inhaled sharply. He had achieved his purpose. She now obeyed him without hesitation. He felt something twist inside him, like a blade.
"Leave that for the servants."
He waved over a young man who lifted the basket from her arms. She stood immobile, refusing to look at him.
"If you won't rest at least go outside and sit in the sun. You look overly pale sweeting."
He stared at her, willing her to fight back, to tell him to keep his thoughts to himself, to do anything at all.
"Go on, love."
She stirred finally, walking woodenly down the hallway to the kitchen door. Her hand was on the wall for support. He swallowed, feeling his throat constrict.
Blessed Jesu, what have I done?
**********
Emeline sat on a large rock and stared blankly into space. Idly she had picked some overgrown chamomile and was weaving the flowers into a chain for her hair. She remembered that she used to do such things. She used to enjoy them.
She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. She was too pale for him. She must do as he said. Otherwise…
She shuddered feeling a sudden chill.
A man was staring at her from the courtyard. He was incredibly well dressed and wore a gold circle on his head.
Edward.
The King.
It must be.
She stood hastily and sunk into a low curtsy. When she lifted her eyes he was smiling at her, his eyes sliding down her body. Even from the distance she could see the sensual intent in his gaze.
A cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't thought she could be more afraid of what was to come. But in that moment, she was.
**********
Rowan sat with Edward, discussing his plans for war with France. He'd made a claim for the French crown and been rudely rebuffed. As a result, the young King wanted blood.
Rowan knew the King would not ask him to leave Fairhaven again. As a seasoned warrior he was more valuable to England here. They even planned to expand the garrisons to take on a greater force. He would be in charge of training and overseeing all the soldiers in this region on the country, and tumultuous Scotland to the North.
As the meal time approached he waited for Emeline to make her appearance. He'd instructed Magda to dress her according to her station and to do whatever she could to bring some life into her cheeks, even if that meant pinching them.
A moment later and he felt the wind knocked out of him. Magda had outdone herself. Emeline walked gracefully into the hall, clad in an emerald green dress with golden overskirt that fit her glorious curves to perfection. Her dark hair was half up, pined back to show the beauty of her face to it's best advantage.
A matching cap with sheer veil covered her brow.
Magda had not simply pinched her cheeks to give her color. She's done something else- perhaps stained her lips with berries. The effect was devastating to his senses. He quickly rethought his plan to leave her alone. He would bed her this night, surely. But he would not hold back this time. He would tell her that he forgave her at last. That he cared for her.
That he would wed her.
He felt better than he had in weeks as she took her place beside him, and across from the King. That's until he saw the look on Edwards face. He was staring at Emeline with a look of pure adulation…. and naked lust. As the meal progressed, Rowan was forced to watch as his King mentally undressed his woman with obvious anticipation.
He meant to have her.
But he could not.
Emeline for her part sat quietly beside him, seemingly in a trance. She responded when addressed, and when he offered her a choice bite she obediently opened her lips to accept it. But she was not truly there with them he knew.
And he was the one at fault.
As the meal drew to a close he whispered in her ear to prepare herself for bed and that she should sleep if able. He would wake her when he was finished entertaining the King.
The moment she was gone Edward leaned forward.
"So you wish to delay your marriage so you can continue bedding that delightful creature without interruption. I can't say I blame you."
"I wish to wed her."
The King raised his eyebrows.
"Really. You know that the wedding I have arranged would bring you great power and wealth. You already have the lady, and her property in your possession."
"It matters not. I have a long standing attachment to the lady."
"You have a long standing attachment to those tits! My god, I've never seen the like! And her face… what a beauty. I'd say she's better than any I have had. How is she by the way?"
Rowan swallowed. He had to answer the King. To do otherwise would be an insult.
"She is… a responsive bed partner."
"Trying to throw me off the scent are you? Well, it won't do. I am your King and I will grant you your request on one condition."
Rowan stared at his liege, praying that he would not say what he suspected�
�� no, what he knew Edward was about to ask.
"You may wed your whore if you grant your King permission to take your place in her bed on this night."
"My liege-"
"Now don't be a bore Rowan. I mean to have her whether you give me leave or not. I will simply go to your chamber in your stead, and douse the candles. She not need know it is me."
Rowan closed his eyes. He could see no way out of this situation. But he knew she would know who bedded her. Emeline might be fading away, but she was no fool. He thought furiously as to how to detain the King until he could get word to her. Perhaps if they drank enough, he would lose interest. He had to dissuade him somehow.
He must.
"More wine!"
The King raised his cup, saluting him.
**********
Madga burst into the chamber where Emeline lay naked on the bed. She hoped that if she showed her submission to him, Rowan might not withhold her pleasure so long on this night.
Then again, it did not truly matter one way or the other.
"Get dressed!"
Emeline sat up slowly, catching the gown that Madga threw at her.
"Hurry!"
"What is it?"
"I heard them talking. He means- our Lord means to give you to the King this night!"
Magda's voice sneered when she mentioned Rowan. But he wouldn't so such a thing. Would he?
"Are you certain Magda? He seems intent on having me all to himself."
Magda pulled the dress over her head and yanked her to her feet.
"Aye, I'm sure! They were bargaining for something. The King told him he meant to have you either way so Lord Fairhaven might as well take the exchange. They were speaking of his wealthy bride to be. I heard him call for wine to seal the deal!"
Joanna Davis - Knights In Shining Armor Page 8