by Rae Monet
"I do not know how he feels. Sometimes it is difficult for me to sense him."
"Watch and learn, lass.” He turned her so she could see Roan's reaction as he kissed her. It wasn't a chaste kiss by any means, and he smiled when they both saw Roan rush forward and haul her from his embrace. She smiled at Robert and took his meaning for what it was. Roan's feelings toward her were much stronger than she could sense.
"I think that is enough good-byes.” Roan's raised voice assailed Robert. Robert's laughter encompassed the area as he saluted him and inclined his head to her.
"Now do ya understand, my little bird?” He asked in front of Roan.
"I understand.” Roan's hand grasped hers as he drove her toward her horse, hurrying her to mount.
When they were all mounted, Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland, pointed at Roan. “Remember yer promise, Wolf."
Roan gave one abrupt nod in response and pulled the reins around to begin their trek to the Castle of Brier.
* * * *
In evidence of the tales they had heard, the village of Brier reeked of death and despair. Illness littered the street. Peasants were ailing and lodgings overflowed, spilling the ill onto the street, huddled close and shivering in their tattered blankets. Serena held a cloth up to her nose to help lessen the stench of death. The Castle loomed over the village, locked up tight. The peasants who had no more cares were pounding on the Castle gates, crying in grief for their treatment.
"God's breath.” Roan's curse whistled from his mouth.
"I think it better if we camp outside of the village and form a plan.” Richard's statement made sense and after seeing the condition of the village, all agreed. Night was falling as they approached the woods. The smoldering odors of the village hung unattended as the sun lowered on the horizon.
They worked in unison to set up camp. When at last twilight had fallen, they rested around the fire Roan had built, arguing about their line of attack.
"I will go alone, it makes no sense any other way. If trouble befalls me, I can easily call for you. To place us both in peril is not necessary, I need you to stay here.” They had been arguing half the night about his suggestion that only he attempt to penetrate the Castle. He figured he could innocently enter the castle grounds and demand entry into the castle itself as an English Lord and investigate covertly.
"I do not like it.” She declared, wincing as Richard probed her shoulder.
"It is much improved, near healed. It will remain stiff until you force movement. Tis truly amazing, you have healed at three times the normal rate.” He disposed of the bandage once and for all.
"It is your healing ability, Richard, it far exceeds any other healers.” She smiled.
"I do not think so.” He smiled back as he left to seek the pallet which had been laid under the haphazard shelter Roan had built, calling as he went, “You two work this out. I seek my bed."
She rose, and pulling out her swords, began to practice movements, trying to loosen her shoulder. Roan stood and joined her, unsheathing his larger sword, his movements complementing hers. They always excelled at practicing together.
She turned and engaged him, surprised by the strength of his stroke and swift actions. He was fleet for such a large man. They had both discarded their cloaks and she watched the play of muscles against his tunic. Her breath quickened. Roan locked his sword with hers and in a rapid movement, his arm snaked out and wrapped around her middle, pulling her into his body, forcing her to drop her swords. He smiled at her outrage. She finally relented and grinned with him, her hands falling against his chest.
"You know my plan is the best."
She sighed, drew out of his arms, and picking up her swords they began to practice again. He pulled off his tunic and faced her bare-chested. Serena threw off her leather vest and joined him, her arms bare with the exception of her gold armlets.
Both were laboring hard as they attempted to best each other. He circled around her, his steps sure, yet his purpose unclear as he pursued, then fell upon her when the time was right. She squeaked as he pulled her against him for a second time, this time from behind. His chin fell into a sensitive spot where her neck sloped to her shoulder.
"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” He drew her compliant body against his hard one.
"If you are trying to distract me then you are succeeding.” She sighed against his touch.
"I sense your fear. I will take care, you must let me do this alone.” His lips buried in her hair and he gave up all pretense of practicing. Slowly lowering their swords, he wrapped his arms around her from behind and held her.
"I thank the Gods every day we are together, that we found each other.” Dipping his knees, he whispered his words into her ear, like a lover would his claimed one. He declared he wasn't a romantic, yet his words, like such, never failed to warm her heart, to send her senses wild with longing, and make her pulse race with yearning.
"I will yield.” She raised her hands in the sign of surrender then slowly lowered them to rest on the arms surrounding her. Simply touching him alleviated her craving slightly. “But you will signal me if you need assistance. Promise.” He nuzzled her neck, his light kisses causing a shiver to pass through her body. His arm tightened on her body, his hard cock against her back.
"I promise you,” he said, continuing the leisurely exploration with his lips.
His tongue came out to lightly skim her neck, causing her to sigh and quiver in her pleasure. Her neck unconsciously tilted to give him better access. His hands moved up to cup her breasts and knead their hardening softness.
"Are you cold?” He asked in a low voice, his breath against her neck.
She laughed at his question. “No. How could I be cold in your arms?"
"That was my plan.” He sighed as she slowly turned in his arms. Her head came to rest below his chin.
"I'm starting to sense your plan.” She heard his chuckle. His hands roved over her neck into her hair where he sifted through her unruly locks, lifting her hair off her neck. His hands gently tilted her head as he bent down, his mouth connecting with the pulse on her neck. Serena groaned, crying out her pleasure.
"Tell me what you sense, share the feelings with me.” He whispered the words against her throat as he gently pressed moist kisses up her neck to her jaw.
"Ahhh.” She tried to remember his question. This was something he excelled at, making her forget where she was, losing all conscious thought of her surroundings. She reminisced about the woods, the log, the game they had played. They had turned the game into a sensual battle of wills for control, fought to failure, then defeat for both of them. She remembered what it was like to have this man filling her. Her need far exceeded her protests.
"Tell me what you sense.” His words were low, with a breathy quality, reminding her of his request.
"Um,” She tried to concentrate as his lips traced her cheek, moving toward her ear.
She finally was able to give him a response. “I feel your need, your desire, and it fills me, just as you do.” She heard his growl against her throat as his restraint finally broke, his lips moving in to claim hers in a kiss that branded her with his ownership, gently demanding her response. He lifted her against him. He was hard. Her tongue lightly joined his, touching, tangling, and he pulled her into his mouth inviting a deeper searching. Finally she stopped the kiss, her breath puffing against his lips.
"This will only lead in one direction, my romantic knight, and it is beyond gentle persuasion."
He smiled against her lips as he nodded his head. “Uh huh."
She wrapped her arms around his body as he hugged her to him. “You must get some rest Roan, you leave at dawn."
He sighed. “I know.” He continued to hold her against his hardened body. “I would gladly sacrifice sleep to spend the night with you.” His hands caressed up and down her back.
"I know.” She lightly pushed against his chest.
His lips cruised down her ne
ck, coming to rest above her breasts. “Let me love you, little one.” His hands ran the length of her back easing her halter top down, his lips skimmed closer to her breasts, licking, kissing. His hands on her back worked in unison with his lips, dropping the cloth from her breasts.
"We shouldn't, Richard is ... Ahhh.” The heat between them began to flame. His lips captured her nipple. He teased, sucked, and settled in to feast on each breast. “Oh.” Her hand framed his head as he drank from her breasts.
He eased back, his lips capturing hers. “We should,” he murmured against the corner of her mouth.
Her pleasure mounted.
He lifted her into his arms, and carried her to a secluded area in the woods where he laid her down on the soft moss.
He removed her top, his lips caressing her breasts, while his fingers worked to remove her breeches. She arched into his mouth, groaned when his fingers found her slit, caressing her until the heat was too much for her to bear. She began to beg. She was wet for him.
"Roan,” she groaned. “I need you."
The pace had been leisurely, but his movements became hurried as he stripped off the rest of his clothing. They came together, a celebration of naked, heated skin. His groans and rapid breathing told Serena the story of his arousal. She could sense he was losing his control, the control he took so seriously. There was a small amount of satisfaction that she could stir him this way.
She caressed his ass as he eased himself over her and fit himself between her legs. His shaft pressed for entrance, his hips posed to thrust forward then pulled back.
"God. I want you so much. Want to be inside you. I need to slow down."
She laughed at the declaration. “Are you telling me, or you?"
His forehead fell against hers. He took in a deep, strained breath. Serena could feel his heart pounding against her chest, the pulse beating at his neck. He slowly ran his hands up her sides, cupped her breasts and leaned down to consume her lips, his fingers working her into a fever pitch, pinching then kneading. Her body was going to burn up in one big blaze and light the forest on fire.
He murmured against her mouth, between each kiss. “Me. I think.” He kissed her again, his tongue tangling with hers, his hips moving his cock another small distance inside her. “Yeah. Christ. I...” He licked her lips, his hand moving from her breasts to cup her butt as he entered her in one fell move.
She arched and gasped. She was so full.
She had never felt so alive.
"Ahhh."
His hands tensed on her bottom, raising her hips so he could move inside of her, just a tiny bit more. His groan matched hers.
"Roaaan."
"Sorry. God. Am I hurting you?” As he stopped, sweat broke out over his forehead. He pulled back, just a slight movement. She grasped his rear and pulled him back, her body bowed drawing him more fully into her. He moaned.
"No.” Her hands framed his face. His expression was so strained, as though he had the worries of the world in his eyes. She soothed his furrowed brow. “You are not hurting me."
His breath heaved out, his eyes cleared, and the makings of a slight smile touched his mouth. Serena touched her hands to his lips. They were still wet from kissing and she ran her finger over his lips.
With him buried this deep inside her, she was not sure she would ever see the world in the same way again. She eased her hips up, letting him know he wasn't hurting her. Her lips touched his, her tongue tracing his mouth. His grip tightened on her rear and he began to move, slowly at first, then with much more force. Tingles shimmied up her spine.
She had known pleasure in her life but nothing, nothing had prepared her for the kind of sensations this man evoked in her. His breath hitched, the noise coming from his mouth spoke to her. Even without her mind sense, she would know he was receiving as much enjoyment from this union as she was.
"Ahhh, Serena. Jesu."
His hips were driving against her. She tilted up to meet his thrusts, her heart pounding, her body preparing for the bliss beyond the simple act of lovemaking. She gasped, curved up, and her breath left her body. With one final moan, she flew into the trees. His body stiffened against her, his hands tightening on her to the point of pain. Easing back, he buried his face in her neck.
Tears dropped unknowingly from her eyes with the relief their union brought her. His breathing evened, his body went lax over hers. He rolled to the side and brought her against his chest.
They stayed together for some time, but both knew they needed to get back to the shelter. Roan needed to rest.
They unhurriedly dressed each other. The act of replacing their clothes was as arousing as removing them had been.
He picked up their swords, replacing his. Then slowly he approached her and his arms came around her to re-sheath her blades.
His arms lingered for a moment and he gently kissed her, his fingers caressing her cheek. “Thank you."
She smiled, her hands smoothing over his. “You are welcome. You go ahead. I will be there shortly."
He nodded and headed toward camp.
Much later she lowered herself next to him in the shelter, on the pallet Richard had prepared for her. Roan's face had lost its familiar fierceness and in his sleep, his features gentled. His breath rasped lightly from his lips. His sword was sitting next to his body, like a child might clutch a favorite nighttime toy. She set it aside.
She gently stroked his face. His lips smiled in sleep, and his arms moved out to draw her body into his. She sighed at the sense of rightness and reached over to draw their cloaks over them. Her brother was blissfully snoring away, as always oblivious in sleep to anything around him. Caine took up residence at her feet, claiming himself a prime location. She drifted off to sleep.
As dawn approached, her dreams became troubled with images of Ziem. He was in a dark, damp place. The soft light of dawn did not penetrate his cell. He was gravely injured, and his screams could be heard across the entire cell as he screeched in terror. This was not the dark dream she'd had before.
She bolted up, reaching for her weapons. Ziem's scream was his final warrior distress call for help.
Next to her Roan jerked up, his gaze immediately swinging to hers, his sword already in his hand. He was panting as much as she was. “What was it?” he asked, rising.
Richard had also now been awakened, and untangled himself from his blanket. “What is it?"
"A warrior distress call. From Ziem. Roan and I both heard it. He is in trouble."
Roan was already preparing to leave, strapping on his weapons, saddling his horse. He moved swiftly, announcing his intent, “I must leave. Now."
Serena remained in the clearing, watching him prepare to depart, her heart heavy and clenching in fear. The fact that Ziem was hurt only made their situation more desperate. The demented men in the castle could be trying to confirm Ziem's crazy tale by hurting him. Knowing the cruel overlord who resided in the castle, torture would be just the method he would choose.
Roan moved to Richard. Clasping their arms, they recited their Solarian pledge. He approached her and clasped his arm against hers as they recited their pledge, “A'Don ar Cuideachd-ne, we protect our own."
"Roan.” There was pleading in her voice, pleading for him not to go alone, pleading for him not to leave. She leaned forward, and rising to her toes, took his face between her hands. She knew it was pointless to voice her fear. She gave him the only thing she could think to give and put all of her heart into her kiss. His arms wrapped around her, and he kissed her back, devouring her lips under his in desperation.
When they broke apart, he launched onto his horse, obviously resolved in what he needed to accomplish.
Serena realized as he rode away that what she had given in that kiss was more than her heart, it was her love. She finally acknowledged to herself what she had known all along. She loved him with all of her heart. The man who had laughed with her, shared his body with her, cried for her, and fought for her was her soul mate.
>
* * * *
Roan walked up to the castle gates, command in his actions, never faltering in his confidence. A wrong step could mean his death.
"Halt. State your business!” A castle guard called down to him from high above the castle wall.
"Tell his Grace Lord Roan Aston, the Wolf, has come to partake of his generosity. I am on a scouting mission for the King and am sorely in need of repast, a bed for the next few nights.” He established authority in his voice, hoping he would bode no argument. After a few minutes the gates opened. He had to weed his way through a throng of angry villagers to get by, and guards were beating them back to make way for his passage.
"His Grace bids you welcome, my lord, he will attend you directly,” the guard shouted out.
He moaned at the response, hoping he could prowl the castle in anonymity, blending into the crowd of knights. Handing his reins over to the groom, he pulled off his gloves and tread heavily into the great hall. He instantaneously sensed despondency as he surveyed the room and his breath hummed out in a disgusted rumble at the repulsive display. Dirty floors mixed with ragged mercenaries lounging lazily around the room, oblivious to their visitor, some openly coupled with naked women. Most of the females were being taken by force, while others sprawled unwillingly in chains at the mercenary's feet, to be savored for later, he assumed. The room smelled of stale ale, unwashed bodies, and the despoiling of woman. Servants rushed around, trying to appease their masters, clearly abused, some with bruises on their faces, others with torn clothing. All were female.
He grimaced at the scene and was thoroughly sickened with what he was witnessing.
This is immorality at its worst.
He stepped around the various unclothed groaning women and thrusting men to approach the chair of the overlord. Clearly, the most lavishly decorated chair in the room, it was grossly ornamented with wooden carvings of coupling bodies with jewels adorning female nipples.
An overweight old man slept in the chair, sprawled and snoring, with several naked women chained to his heavy, unmoving chair. He was half clothed, his hand wedged down the front of his breeches. He was asleep, too sated to unhand his cock. In his other hand he held the chain of a big breasted, near naked woman, who lay curled at his feet. She bore bruises over her body, mostly on her buttocks and inner thighs. She lay there sobbing quietly.
