by L. C. Morgan
To my dismay, the set up was clothed in intimacy, from the lit lantern to the bare contours of his back, all the way down to the small pile of furs that I assumed made up his bed.
I watched as he fiddled around with his loot before turning and gesturing for me to come in further. Grunting a few indecipherable syllables, he pointed to the furs, as if to say, "Come, sit. I won't hurt you."
I didn't believe him for one minute, my head pounding in remembrance of just what he was capable of. Standing still as a statue just inside the entrance, I couldn't have moved if I wanted to, transfixed on the way he slunk across the dirt floor to stand right beside me.
A little nudge against the small of my back and I was spinning on my heel, heading back out in the direction from which I came.
Surely he didn’t expect me to lie upon these furs and share his bed with him, did he?
I would think not, my resolve set on taking my chances with the wolves, thank you very much.
I had just crossed the threshold when two strong arms wrapped around my middle. It did little to deter when I voiced my discord, and he hoisted me up and over his shoulder to carry me back into the tent. I continued to thrash and wiggle, sinking as low as beating furiously on his backside until he threw me down onto the pile of furs. I met them with a huff, my exhaustion rearing its ugly head once mine hit the pillowed softness beneath. I struggled to keep my eyes open and on the man that moved so surely around the small confines. My gaze followed as he stalked to and fro before settling his sights on me and his backside on the furs right beside me.
My mind was in a race of wild thoughts, every one of them disconcerting and unclean.
Understandably, I was frozen in place, helpless against his advances when he rolled to face me, his fingers going straight for the stray hairs hanging from the sides of my loosened braid. He placed them behind one ear as he had before, lightly grazing across my cheek and bottom lip to tuck some behind the other.
Locked in his gaze, I was trapped in the deep mine of black soot and coal, those eyes so dark and dangerous. I was unable to crawl out, forced to let him trail the side of my neck and trace the curve of my shoulder, shivering under the light scratch of his rough calluses. They followed the length of my upper arm and came to a brief rest at my elbow. It felt as though I couldn't breathe when he began his travels again, moving inward so that the tips of his fingers just grazed the side of my breast.
Once my mind caught up with the rest of me, I swatted him away, sitting up only to be pushed back down into the furs. Heat radiated from his hand into the depths of my chest as he shoved forceful words through his teeth.
"Stay put," I imagined he said as he scooted closer, urging me to my side so he could pull my back flush with his chest. It was all I could do not to argue further, obediently lying still and squeezing my eyes shut, trying to block out the image of too much skin and too deep black eyes, how good his warmth felt pressed against my back.
Chapter Four
Stirring, I sniffed, letting out a small cough.
The air was stifling, the discomfort of an early morning sweat soaking my back.
I didn’t remember falling asleep by the fire, didn’t remember the floor feeling this comfortable.
Stretching out like a well-rested feline, I stiffened as I came in contact with a hardened surface, its hand sliding around my side to rest in the valley between my bosom.
I nearly cried. Not only shamed and embarrassed by the level of intimacy he so casually squandered, but for all the reasons he was able to squander it. I was stuck here, destitute with no way back and no knowledge of how to get him to stop touching me.
Perhaps if I just kept showing him ...
Gripping him by the wrist, I threw off the offensive appendage. If my husband hadn't touched me in such a manner, this heathen certainly wasn't going to.
Desperate to escape, I skittered across the ground, yelping when the savage beast woke to grab me by the ankle, and with no effort at all, dragged me back over to the edge of the fur pile.
My heart sped as he propped himself on an elbow, needing only one arm to pull me flush against him. I shook my head vehemently as he pushed me onto my back, lifting the hem of my night dress and forcing himself between my legs.
The palms of his hands singed the tops of my knees, burning up the length of my legs and building a fire between my thighs.
My body betrayed me as I let him explore my skin, watching in rapt fascination when one of his hands left me to slide under the small piece of leather covering himself. Licking my lips, one word came to mind as my eyes inadvertently dropped between the juncture of his thighs.
Sin.
Shaking my head again, I lifted myself up on my elbows to crawl backwards and away from him. It was exactly what this was—a sin. A sin against God, and a defacement to the memory of my poor late husband. I was better than this, better than some whore who spread her legs, looking in all the wrong places for love and support in a time of need.
Abandoning his self pleasure, he hooked his hands behind both of my knees, pulling me back to rest my legs on top of his thighs. My mouth developed a mind of its own, huffing out a groan of approval when feeling his skin against my skin. It was soft and warm, rubbing against the back of my spread legs, nothing like the only other man I’d known so intimately. This man was so much bigger: bigger bones, bigger muscles, bigger features. Just bigger.
His voice having been so startling before sounded low and somewhat comforting, the slew of unintelligible words rolling in like the slow and steady rumble of distant thunder.
I loved storms.
"Please, we can't do this," I insisted, earning an intent stare from him before he leaned forward, pressing his finger to my mouth—much like I'd done to him just the day before. His finger lingered much longer, however, running slowly across my trembling bottom lip. I had a mind to bite it off, but swatted it away instead.
"Enough now."
A growl ripped from deep inside his bare chest, and his hands went straight for the waistband of my butchered undergarments. I fought for my dignity with all that I could muster, pulling and kicking, finally screaming out at the top of my lungs.
"No!"
There. That seemed to stop him.
For now at least.
Releasing me, he stood to turn and flip open the entrance to the tent before stomping off and leaving me alone to lie limply, trying not to cry on the bed of piled furs.
Lord, did that man infuriate me. To the point where I couldn't see straight. I could have just spit, I was so riled up and flaming mad.
It wasn't right, what was happening to me. Being taken from husband and home to satiate this stranger's own sinful needs, it just wasn't right.
Neither was the way my body reacted to him.
Of all the emotions I should have been experiencing, lust shouldn't have been one of them, especially for a man that took me from my home.
It didn't matter if he wasn't the one who had killed poor John. In the end, he might as well have been. He didn't do anything to stop it. He hadn't stepped in to save him.
Not like he saved me.
Chapter Five
I woke again some time later to the soft sounds of whispering and a gentle tug at my hair. It had been freed from its ribbon, falling halfway down my back in what I could only imagine as a matted, sweaty mess. I was roasting, hoping that the handsy man had gone elsewhere to satiate his deviant desires. I was too tired to try and fight him off again.
The sound of soft laughter coaxed me to peek coyly over my shoulder, where I found two women quietly chattering over the frayed piece of blue fabric.
They were as fascinated by it as I was by them, the striking planes of their features. Their skin was as crisp as the carnal beast who had taken me. While they at least had the modesty to cover their chests, there was still too much showing.
Taking notice of how I pried, their private debate came to an end and they both turned toward me, one of them holdin
g out the ribbon to wave it in front of my face.
Her tone was forceful, her hand coming closer with every repetitive mumble. Her facial expression was fixed in stony indifference, the volume of her voice steady and patient. She gave no signs of annoyance like the one who’d captured me had, as if she said whatever she was saying enough times I would eventually understand.
Still unperturbed, she reached into her pouch. I flinched as she pulled her hand back out again, expecting the worst, and rightfully so. The whole experience had proven to be a never ending nightmare. One from which I feared I'd never wake up.
Her mumbled words did little to comfort, the softness of satin doing a much better job as it crept and crawled up the skin on my arm. Looking down, I breathed a sigh of relief to see it was only a harmless feather.
Pointing to a similar one hanging behind her ear, she reached out again to gather a strand of my hair. I stayed perfectly still this time, studying the different beads hanging from the fringe on her tan hide dress as she wove the pointed end of the feather in place.
A smile broke out across her face once she was done. I fingered the softness, feeling a smile of my own spread across my face as her spoken words turned into giggles and they both stood, fleeing the tent and leaving me behind, taking my tattered ribbon with them.
I lay there for what seemed like hours for the less amicable one to return.
It wasn't that I longed to see him, because I didn't. I would have much rather dealt with the women if given the choice. They made me feel somewhat comfortable in this foreign place, not posing as such a threat. However, at this point it didn't really matter who came to hopefully help me, because the fact of the matter was that I was in need of relief.
The pain was becoming damn near unbearable, and while I realized any chance of an outhouse was out of the question, I doubted they stooped so low as to make waste in their own living spaces. And even if they did, I wasn't a savage. I wasn't like them. I didn't go indoors.
Sucking a sharp breath in through my teeth, I rose on all fours and crawled to the entrance, hesitantly peeking out to search from side to side.
The camp was still set up as I remembered, surrounded by similar makeshift shelters, their triangular structures prepared with long, bound sticks, all covered with the same, white cloth. They were all situated in a perfect circle, every single one of them facing the smoking fireplace in the very center of the camp.
The grounds were littered with women and children, the smallest ones running around in the state in which they were born. The men were nowhere to be found, which was fine by me, having already dealt with what I hoped was the worst of them.
My resolve hardened once I spotted a far-off line of trees just across the way. I climbed to my feet, bounding across the patches of dead grass and praying I didn’t come upon a spindled plant.
I had just passed the last of the tents when someone reached out and grabbed my wrist, jerking me to a sudden stop and knocking me roughly against their hard chest.
Thrown off balance, my free hand landed on a bulge of bare muscle, my heart beating just as hard as the one pounding underneath my palm.
I felt dizzy with fear, drowsy from the thickened blood coursing through my veins.
When was the last time I'd had any water to drink?
I jumped with the twitch of muscle under my hand, my head feeling like it was floating, my eyes slowly roaming from my hand up to his muddy, brown eyes. They looked different somehow, softer, lighter, more kind. The paint had been washed away and in its place, a striking, angular face with rather smooth skin. Not one hint of stubble marred his chin.
Brushing the hair back from my shoulder, he fingered the feather between his thumb and forefinger before attempting to cup my jaw.
I turned my chin from the sentiment, not wanting to encourage, the motion reminding me of what I had ventured out to do in the first place.
"I …” Looking back up into his eyes, I quickly averted mine, embarrassed to say the words. “I have to go.”
Of course he didn’t understand what I was saying, the proof in when he let go of one arm to pull me back across the camp by the other.
His hand felt rough, his fingers biting into the bone of my wrist. Trying to jerk out of his hold, I pointed in the opposite direction toward the trees. Somehow he still misinterpreted, finally pulling me in the right direction, but only to grab a bowl of berries out of one of the women’s hands. I huffed as he handed them to me, crossing my arms and turning my head in refusal when he actually picked one up and placed it against my lips. Backing away, I shook my head and he stepped forward, pressing it back up to my mouth with a grunt.
Eat! I imagined he was saying.
Was he kidding? How did he expect me to eat at a time like this?
Stubbornly pinching my lips together, I slapped his hand away with a shake of my head, pointing to the tree line once more. I reckon I blushed as bright as a cherry as I crossed one leg over the other and started bouncing in place, pulling suggestively at the front of my skirt.
"Go!" I pointed to the trees again, attempting to communicate in the only other way I knew how. "I have to go!"
Contemplation creased his brow, his eyes sweeping down to take in my degrading actions before snapping back up to mine, amusement tugging tenderly at the corners of his mouth.
I breathed a sigh of relief when he finally put down the bowl, popped the berry in his own mouth, and we headed in my intended direction.
I continued to half-heartedly fight him in his insistence to drag me around as if I were some ragdoll. If anything, I should have been the one dragging him around. I at least knew where I wanted to go.
Once we reached the tree line, he pulled me into the dense cluster of pines, picking a thick trunk and shoving me behind it. Releasing my wrist, he parted his legs into a wide stance and crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at me intently.
My word.
Did he actually think I was going to let him watch?
With a flick of my wrist, I dismissed him before reaching down to lift my skirt. I froze when I peeked up to find him still watching, those filthy eyes on my legs. Quickly covering them, I scoffed, snapping my fingers and pointing past him. "Turn away, you mongrel!"
Fury flamed under my skin when all he did was smile.
Pointing to him with intention, I gave a forceful twirl of my finger, clearly demanding he turn around. Furious that I couldn't be granted one moment of peace, I gritted through my teeth, "Please."
Huffing out a breath through his nose, he finally turned in the opposite direction. I did my best to move quickly, mindful not to sigh along with the long stream of sweet relief.
Chapter Six
He was more gentle in his ways of helping me through the underbrush on the way back. At least, that was until I refused him the honor of threading our fingers together.
What did he think this was, some kind of leisurely lovers’ stroll?
He was not courting me. He couldn’t even converse with me properly.
It would have been improper.
Everything about him was improper: the way he manhandled, grunted, and growled, not once showing me the least bit of human decency.
Grabbing me by my wrist, he turned back into his beastly self, dragging me along behind him. As if I were some unruly child that he had to keep track of. As if … as if I were his property.
Well.
I chuckled to myself without amusement.
I was nobody's property. Least of all his—the brute.
“I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own, I’ll have you know. I have been since I was a mere babe. I assure you, I do not need your assistance,” I insisted, uselessly trying to twist out of his grip. “I implore you, please let go.”
My words only seemed to spur him, my incessant wiggling causing him to tighten his hold before he suddenly let go. I hit the ground hard with a thud, my pride bruised a hell of a lot worse than my bottom. It was all I could do to scurry
to my feet and attempt to dust off the hurt. That was the second time he had caused me to fall and suffer injury.
Sulking, I followed him back, tripping over mounds of dead grass along the way.
Once we reached the edge of camp we were each flanked, him by the men and me by the women. Taking my hands, they led me in the opposite direction, fussing over my hair and the dirtied fabric of my dress. I turned back to glare at the reason I looked such a fright, not expecting his eyes to already be on me before he disappeared behind the flap of the tent.
My nerves calmed as I sat and stewed by the fire, my mouth salivating while I watched a stuck rabbit spin on the spit. My eyes traveled to the flap of the tent he’d disappeared through every so often. I wondered what it was a group of men could be doing cooped up inside a tent for the better half of the day. Did they drink, smoke? Was that their makeshift idea of a saloon? I frowned at the thought, having already dealt with the antics of a drunk. I didn't think I could put up with another.
My stomach tightened when they all emerged with wide smiles. I snuck a sniff as he sat beside me, his thigh much too close to mine. I scooted down a ways when I didn't smell anything but the musk of pine and sweat.
Beyond stuffed, I offered up what I couldn't finish of my rabbit and he smiled wider, those pearly white teeth sinking bone deep into the delicious dark meat. I didn't know why, but it gave me an elite sense of accomplishment to make him smile like that, to have him appreciate what little I offered.
The longer we sat, the less appreciative he grew, however, acting as if he had any right to touch me. I repeatedly swatted his hand away from my knee, and on the fourth or fifth warning he stood with a huff, taking off in the direction of the woods.
A little shocked at his public outburst, I watched his backside as he went, the taut muscles in his back and legs moving with every step. His tinted skin glowed in the flames of the fire until it was swallowed up by the surrounding darkness.
I stared into the endless night impatiently waiting on his return, but it was not long before I was up and on the move, anxious to find him.
