by Wyatt, Dani
My heart thundered as I squirmed, knowing if I could free myself from his grip I could get away.
But then, as if God himself had stepped in, the man was plucked away. His feet dangled, no longer touching the earth. A massive hand attached to a thick, veined forearm held him around his pimply neck as his hands tugged at the locked fingers crushing his windpipe.
Bors.
He glanced my way, looking me up and down, his eyes wild with fury and…but there was something else there...
I shrank back. I was pinned beneath his gaze, aware on some level of what it meant.
Need.
Desire.
Frightening and exciting, drawing a response from me I’d never before known.
My heart thundered as he threw the man into a hedge of holly bushes, roaring with spittle-filled rage. Then I watched as he stomped toward him yet again, grabbed him by the shirt, hauled him to his feet and dragged him over to Angelica’s pigsty, dropping him headfirst into the sloppy, filthy mess.
“Stay right there,” he raged, kicking the pigsty gate, making it rattle against its hinges. “Wallowing in shit where you belong.”
Despite myself, I choked back a giggle, covering my mouth with the back of my hand as the man rose to his feet, gasping against the pig muck that covered his face, slipping in it as he tried to stumble away from the pigs sniffing around him.
“You even look her way again and I’ll fucking kill you. Or, the hogs may do it for me first.”
He turned to me, looking me up and down with that same fire in his eyes he’d had in the town square. Then he headed my way, and I wanted to curl into myself and disappear. Yet, at the same time, I wanted to fling myself at him and whisper into his ear the things he was making me feel.
Under the shadow of the budding magnolia tree next to where we stood, Bors took me in his arms, his voice still harsh but softer now as he asked, “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper. He was so close, I could smell his scent, like a pine forest after a soaking rain. “I mean, I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” His eyes darkened. “If he’s hurt a hair on your head, I’ll fucking—”
“No. Please. He was just drunk.”
“Drunk is no fucking excuse.” His hands ran down over my hips as he dropped to his knees at my feet. “I need to check you. I take care of what’s…” He glanced up, drawing a deep breath to stop himself.
I placed my hand on his immense shoulder. I could feel the heat of his body through the fabric and once again, I ached to trace every muscle and fiber. “Don’t stop…finish what were you going to say…”
He shook his head as he continued running his hands over me, making my knees nearly buckle, the flutter inside my center making me feel I might crumple into a ball at his feet.
I steadied myself on his shoulder and demanded again: “Please tell me what you were going to say. ‘You take care of what’s...’”
“Nothing.” He grumbled and shook his head as he caressed my calves with his rough fingers, making me gasp at the touch, at the way the fabric pulled up, giving him a glimpse of ankle, knowing that if he continued…
Oh, God. Please save me from these thoughts.
Inch by inch, he checked me over. His touch was certain and confident.
Even entitled…
He touched me in a way that made me feel like a treasure. Something rare and fragile. Something to be guarded and revered.
As he moved up from my calves to my thighs, I ached for him to touch me where a throb pulsed between my legs. I wanted his rough fingers where I had never been touched by any but myself.
I wanted his touch to somehow stop the ache he’d created.
To my dismay and relief, although his manner was brutish, he didn’t touch me there.
Instead, he slid his hands out from under my hem, up the sides of my legs to my waist, drawing my shift tight. I felt tiny in his grip, as his thumbs glided beneath the curves of my breasts, making my nipples tighten against the rough, scratchy linen of my underdress.
As if trying to wake myself from a dream, I took a deep breath and pinched my eyes closed, then opened them again. I was being swept away in his presence and my own desire. But there was so much I needed to know.
“Why are you here?” I managed to choke out. “Why did you come here? To this house…Please tell me.”
It was a plea for the truth to be something other than what I thought. Each word tipped with the jealousy I didn’t understand but couldn’t fight.
“For a bed and a meal,” he said, without hesitation. “And, if I’m honest, for a few pints of ale to collect myself after first laying eyes on you.”
“The washerwomen told me about you,” I said, narrowing my eyes, recalling Annie’s comments.
You’re far too young and sweet to go near a brute like that.
“I’m sure they did,” he said, his tongue tracing along his bottom lip as he drew a deep breath, flaring his nostrils. His jawbone was hard and square, as though it was clenched that way during his every waking hour.
“They…they said you’re a warrior.”
“Aye. I was.” He nodded. “Though not anymore.”
That caught me by surprise. Not anymore? Then what now? “They told me you’re dangerous.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps.” His eyes traced my throat, my chest, my bosom, and my breaths came quicker as liquid heat slicked my inner thighs.
“A…” My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. “A legendary lover, they said.”
He growled in response, running a massive hand over his head, his fingers spread, dark hair combed between them. “I’ve heard talk about you, as well. Angelica says your family does not treat you with kindness. That true?”
“It is,” I answered, turning my face away, embarrassed though I had no reason to be. “But that’s my life. I know no better.”
“You deserve better,” he grit out between clenched teeth. “You deserve to be worshiped.”
He traced his thumb over his lower lip, dragging it down as a shudder shook me from my core. I wanted him. I wanted this. But I mustn’t. Annie had warned me. I had seen him with Angelica. I didn’t want a reputation. Did I?
“I…have to go,” I declared, trying to sound self-assured but failing miserably. “I have to get home.”
He paused, looking me up and down, sucking on his teeth before he nodded, leaning to the side, blocking out the sun like a monolith. “Aye, I suppose you do. Besides, there are words I need to have with your father.”
He picked up my basket for me, then wrapped one strong arm around my center and began walking me out of the garden toward the King’s Highway. As we passed the pigsty, I noticed it was empty, mucky footprints leading off down the road.
“What words with my father? Do you know him?” I asked.
“Not yet. But he will know me very soon.”
My heart thundered, understanding what he meant to do. Why, I wasn’t sure, but that was not what concerned me. “He… If you go to him on my behalf...” I stammered, trying to finish. “He—I—just if you go, it could make things worse for me.”
“Nothing will get worse. Trust me.”
We marched down the road a quick pace, me doing my best to keep up as he held me around the waist, my feet barely touching the rocky surface beneath. “You shouldn’t speak to him in this mood.”
“Have to speak to him sometime. May as well be now.”
“No, I…” A lifetime of fear bubbled up inside me. I needed to distract him. If he went to my father, I was sure my life would only be a thousand times harder. “I want a kiss,” I said, the words spilling straight from my subconscious onto my lips.
Bors stopped short and turned to look down at me. “You want…” His eyes darkened, his body square and tense, matching the set of his jaw.
“I want…” I felt every breath straining against the bodice of my dress. The words didn’t even seem to be my ow
n anymore, I just said them in service to a higher power. Some god of mischief and lust. “A true man keeps his word. You owe me a kiss. You promised me a kiss today, by the well.”
He shook his head. “Little girl, you are making things up..”
Emboldened by how beautiful and alluring he made me feel, I rose up on my tiptoes. “You didn’t promise me with your words. You promised me with your eyes.”
His brows furrowed and he shook his head as my gaze fell on the deep, thick, silver scar across his face. “You read eyes then?” He half growled as he slipped his massive hand into the small of my back, tight, close, possessive.
“Please,” I said softly. “I’ll beg if you want me to.”
His nostrils flared slightly, and he swallowed hard.
“Fuck, Sara.” He lowered his eyes, closing them for a moment. The tendons in his neck stood out, the strained muscles across his shoulders seemed to grow as a vein pulsed on his forehead. “I want you to beg…” He gulped. “Beg to be kissed. Beg to be...” He trailed off, lips tight on his teeth.
I looked up at him, holding his eyes, urging him to tell me.
And he did.
“Beg to be fucked.”
Oh lord, yes. “Just…please, kiss me.”
“If I start, I can’t tell you I’ll stop until I take what I want. What I need.”
“Kiss me,” I repeated, touching his cheek.
A moment of stunned shock flickered across his hard features, and he let loose a pained, feral groan.
He dropped my basket and took me in both arms, slightly parting my legs with the hard muscle of his thigh. “You’ve never been kissed before, have you?”
“Never.” I shook my head. “You will be my first...” My gaze flitted up and down his face, looking for any sign of disappointment, any sign of rejection. “My first…everything.”
His hand cupped my cheek, rough fingers tracing my flesh, firm yet kind as his eyes closed for a long moment. He caressed me with gentle strokes of his thumb, while his other hand slid down my hip, fingertips finding their way to the crease where my bottom met my thigh.
“Everything about you is perfect,” he gritted out, gruff and strained, so close to me that the breath from each word warmed my lips.
“Please kiss me,” I begged. I needed it. I was desperate for it.
His mouth crushed my lips and his greedy tongue pushed mine aside, kissing me with an intensity that made the ground shift. The rough scratch of his beard prickled my skin as nerve endings lit up like a flash fire across my skin.
The kiss was the most pleasure I had ever felt. As though I were slipping into a hot spring, the wetness gathered between my legs. Driven by instinct and need, I pressed myself into him, molding my body to his, and I felt the thick hardness of his manhood grow against me.. Fear and fascination battled in the twist of my organs until I felt I may pass out. His kiss was my everything. His tongue wound with mine as I kissed back. Our breathing falling into a panting rhythm as the kiss grew, taking on its own life, leaving me lightheaded and helpless against this new lustful power that replaced my sensibilities.
I had never known passion until that moment. I had never known love. But now I knew it with my whole body.
After only one kiss, I felt every inch of my soul and self was his, to do with as he pleased.
Lord, I prayed, please, let him.
Bors
I’ve never truly kissed a woman before. Not if this is what it means.
As our lips met, that was the thought that consumed me.
Consumed my heart.
Consumed my soul.
She inhaled long and slow as I kissed her, and I felt her breasts crush against my chest. What I wouldn’t give to rip her dress right off and roll her nipple between my teeth. She was a fucking dream. No other man had done what I was doing now, nor would they.
I was her first.
I would be her last.
Fuck, I would be her first everything.
The twisting inside of me tightened as we kissed. As it did, I felt myself losing control. With each deep exploration of her mouth with my tongue I grew more impatient. I wanted to spin her around, to flip her dress up over her ass, to breed her, hard and deep, rooting myself inside her young, pure body.
But I knew it was wrong.
Somewhere, deep down, in the civilized part of me, I knew.
She needed me to be strong, to make sure her first time was somewhere better, not on the side of the King’s Highway. Years of warring had given me a strength of will most men did not possess. Sacrifice takes strength. Discipline is agony. I pulled away from her, and felt it like a tear in my very soul.
I swallowed the roar of pain that threatened to explode from my chest. There was a physical part of it that overtook me, but I was used to that.
The larger part of this unique, new pain was far deeper. This hurt my existence, tore a rent in my world. I needed her, and if I didn’t pull away from her now I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.
Her cheeks were flushed, her breaths short and fluttering, her brilliant green eyes dilated with pleasure. Arousal looked damned good on her.
I broke her gaze and ran a hand over my stubble as I looked away, remembering the brutality that had been my life. The things I’d done. How I’d lived.
I was sure nobody would ever be able to accept the two of us together. The delicate flower with the hulking oak. The doe and the wolf.
In a burst of anger and realization, I did what I knew was right. I put her first. I tore my own heart out with words that felt like rusty daggers. “You should get away from me. I’m the last thing you need.”
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she reached up. Soft, warm hands on my cheeks, making me look at her again. There was a wisdom…an understanding in her too-young eyes, and it wounded me deeper than any blade ever could. I’d give her anything. If it would make her life better, I’d give her the world.
“That kiss was…” She drew a deep breath, her lips spreading in a smile that dimpled her cheeks. “It was perfect. I will never be able to kiss another man.”
“Nor would I let you.”
Angry red blushes had crept down her throat and onto her chest. The heaping soft flesh of her breasts seeming to be fuller than just moments ago. I wanted to sink my teeth into her, to leave my mark for the world to see.
“Come now.,” I said, aware that I was losing this fucking battle. The words were hard, intended as much for me as for her. word from her, one request, and I’d lay her down in the brush and rut into her like an animal in heat. “This way.”
“You have to promise not to hurt my father. It will only make my life harder.”
I stared at her. How could I promise that? I needed to speak to him, needed to make sure he knew that his daughter was under my protection now. That if he harmed a hair on her head… “I won’t let any harm come to you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“It’s the best I can do. Sara, I will protect you.” I kept my voice steady. “You will learn to trust me. Especially when it comes to your best interests.”
She looked thoughtful for a few moments, then finally nodded. “I will try. I haven’t experienced many men that engendered my trust.”
Together we made our way down the road, meeting only a few passersby, to whom Sara waved and smiled, chirping a ‘hello’ or ‘good day’ to each one as they gave us—or more so, me—wary, sidelong glances and barely muttered in return.
I’d walked and rode this stretch hundreds of times, but it had been going on three years and it seemed all new again. I noticed every rock, every flower. I noticed the birds chirping in the trees, the way she made each step feel there was something inside of me being reborn.
Being with her, being at her side, it made me feel whole. Like I had found my home.
We walked in a comfortable silence for a time, but I couldn’t hold back the need to know her. To know all about her. My voice sounded harsh when I muttered, “Tell me ab
out you.”
“What do you want to know?”
Fucking everything.
“Let’s start with…your favorite flower,” I blurted without thinking. Favorite flower? It was hardly the most pertinent question right now. I wanted to know her dreams, her desires. I wanted to know the fantasies she made up when she lay in bed at night. I wanted to know the words that drove her crazy.
She laughed. “Flowers? love all of them I think.”
“If you had to pick one. If someone promised to fill your home with one flower forever, what would it be?”
“Mmm...” She glanced away. “Hellebore, surely. Do you know them? Some people call them Lenten roses.”
I shook my head, hesitating. “Might surprise you to know I don’t know much about the finer things in life. But I’m willing to learn.”
For you, I’ll learn all about Hellebore. I’ll make it my mission to bring you one every day for the rest of your life.
She laughed. “I’ll show you.” Straying from the path, still with her arm in mine, she pulled me off the road. Her tiny body was half my size, yet I followed her with an ease I struggled to understand. “Here.” As she knelt into the wild grass and flowers at the edge of the road, her breasts pressed together in a tantalizing line of creamy cleavage. When she rose again, she held a single delicate, deep-purple flower between her fingers. “I like them because they’re a little shy.” She smiled, meeting my eyes. “They aren’t boastful like daisies or roses. They’re happy enough in the shade, out of view.”
She offered the flower and I took it between my thumb and forefinger, trying my hardest to be delicate with the stem, something that felt foreign. I tucked her ink-black hair behind her ear and nestled the flower there.
My mind was filled with visions of the raven strands, tangled in my fists as I set her on all fours, ravaging her until she was soaked and dripping. I shook my head, trying to quell the crazed lust.
“Tell me something else about you.” My voice was thick and tight as I did what I could to restrain the slew of filth and depravity I wanted to spew, to let her know the deviant thoughts she had seeded inside of my head.
