Heart of a Peacekeeper

by Angela Verdenius

  Laughing into her mouth, licking deep, he swallowed her moans and pleas, at the same time catching her behind one knee, unconsciously choosing the injured leg. Lifting it high against his hip, he opened her up even more.

  Her eyes opened, hazy with desire, hot with passion. Lifting his head slightly, releasing her mouth, Simon locked their gazes.

  There was one silent second, heavy with anticipation, and then he bent his knees, hoisted her thigh up just enough more to make her teeter, still keeping her off balance. The tip of his staff rode hard against his abdomen, and Simon released her wrists, pulling one of her arms up and around to encircle his neck, making her hold onto him or fall.

  Grasping his thick phallus, he guided it quickly to the entrance waiting for it, deliberately sliding it between the tender folds protecting her vagina and exerting slight pressure over her clitoris, making Des whimper and tighten her hold on him, her other hand clutching his vest.

  At the wet opening to her body he stopped, keeping his gaze locked on hers while nudging in just the tiniest bit.

  "Do you want me, Des?"

  She bit her lip, her breasts pushing against his chest with every fast breath.

  He withdrew.

  In reaction, her eyes darkened.

  "Do you want me?” He demanded more forcefully, his words husky, laden with the same sexual arousal that beat inside him with every powerful thud of his heart.

  There was nothing he wanted more right then than to sink inside her hot body, but her challenge rang in the back of his mind, and the need to make her plead for him, to make her acknowledge his mastery, gave him the almost superhuman strength to tightly leash his own rapaciousness.

  When she still didn't answer but surged her hips forward, he nearly lost that tightly won control, especially when his tip slid back into her welcoming body.

  Recognizing her strategy, the flare of satisfaction in her eyes, Simon quickly withdrew and grinned darkly. “Nice try, wench. But you will beg."

  Opening her mouth to reply, her words were lost in a low moan as he guided the head of his phallus into a lazy circle around the opening of her vagina, rubbing the angry, swollen tip against her perineum, her position making the access easier.

  The battle of wills in the midst of the prurience was erotic in itself.

  They stared into each other's eyes, the grin fading from Simon's face while Des's teeth clenched.

  "Give it up, lass,” Simon ordered softly. “Give it up to me now."

  "How far can I push you, Simon?"

  The words again, the challenge. The spark in her eyes, the wickedness in the light, the heaviness of desire. She was a strong-willed wench, but Simon was stronger, more determined. More predatory.

  Releasing her leg, sliding it down carefully until her foot was back on the floor, he reached up between them and hooked his hand in her blouse. The buttons down the front popped free as he slowly but relentlessly exerted pressure, until it hung open, barely covering her breasts.

  Both of them were breathing hard, Simon's nostrils flaring as he sucked in a controlling breath, her breasts rising and falling with each panting breath.

  "Will it always be a battle?” he asked.

  Her teeth flashed in a mocking answer.

  "I'll win this battle. I'll win this one and every battle you put up.” The promise was a throaty rasp in the room.

  "Win this battle, trader, and maybe it won't be such a battle next time."

  "You just don't know when to submit, do you?"

  Reaching down unexpectedly, she encircled his shaft and rubbed her thumb over the moist tip, making his muscles clench. “The man who makes me submit has never walked yet."

  Well, she'd just met the one man who would do it.

  Stepping back from her, Simon saw the flash of disappointment in her eyes, the brief hurt and uncertainty, and even in the heat of unfulfilled arousal, the tenderest of emotions gripped his heart and he reached out to gently run one finger over her lips.

  There was one magical second when everything else was stripped away by that one gentle gesture. Heat, passion, carnality—all of it was pushed back by an emotion too deep, too sacred, to even have a name.

  It lasted a heart beat before the heat flared back.

  Slowly, Simon stripped his vest from his shoulders and tossed it aside. When Des made to step forward, he growled, “No.” Stopping, she tilted her head to the side. Totally at ease with her own nakedness, her eyes were hot as she watched him toe off his boots and slowly slide his pants down his legs, stepping out of them and kicking them aside.

  Standing before her, letting her look her fill of him, Simon contemplated her with a coolness that was an extension of his burning desire. This was the male beast, the one planning his moves. Hunting. How best to bring down the female and make her submit. Make her know who covered her, who claimed her, who had met and beaten her challenge.

  Who made her beg for release.

  "Nice.” Her voice was husky. “Very nice."

  Not answering, Simon stepped forward, anticipating her reaching for him, grabbing her arm when she did to spin her around so that he could jerk her back against him. His staff rode up between them, a hot brand that nestled against the small of her back. His arm was an iron band around the front of her shoulders, his other hand resting low on her abdomen.

  "You push when you'd do well to leave alone,” he breathed the warning in her ear.

  "I like pushing.” She wriggled against him, making him grit his teeth.

  Now he didn't answer. Moving her one step forward, he slid his hands down her arms until he clasped her wrists, then using his own body, he bent her over at the waist until her arms were stretched out before her and he closed her fingers around the rail at the end of the bed.

  "Kinky.” The huskiness of her tone belied the laziness of her voice.

  Remaining silent, he slid his hands back up her arms. The position she was in was erotic, for it left her open to his sight and touch, though that openness was hidden from view by his own body covering her. But not for long.

  Using his knee, he spread her thighs until they were apart to his satisfaction.

  Sliding his hands up to her shoulders, he kept his touch light, almost tickling her. Gathering up her hair, he slid it over one of her shoulders, baring her nape for his lips.

  Slowly he moved down, his lips following the straight line of her spine, his fingers trailing lightly down her sides. Only once did he deviate, and that was to feather his hands around to glide over her breast. He both heard and felt her suck in her breath, and he smiled to himself.

  Resting his hands on her hips, he kissed the small of her back, licked, nuzzled, and felt her move slightly.

  "Nay.” He growled out the order.

  "You don't tell me what to do—” She broke off with a small gasp of surprise when she felt his palm slap lightly against one buttock. She frowned at him over one smooth shoulder. “I'm not into punishment."

  "You don't know what I'm into.” His teeth flashed in a feral grin.

  That flash of uncertainty came into her eyes as she suddenly realized the full vulnerability of her position, combined with the fact that she didn't know his sexual preferences. She started to push upwards.

  Simon moved fast. His hand on her back kept her bent over, and he moved aside enough to slip his hand between her thighs from behind. In one smooth stroke, he slid his finger along the seam of her body and onto her clitoris, pressing the little bud against her body.

  Des gasped, her back arching down as she automatically pushed herself against his hand.

  Lightening his touch, he feathered his finger along the seam of her body, playing it against her perineum, watching as she tipped her head back and moaned.

  Hot moisture slicked his finger, and seeing she now held the rail of the bed with a white-knuckled grip, Simon knelt down.

  The female body was, to him, a beautiful thing. So soft and curvy, with hidden treasures to be discovered and tended to,
touched and worshipped.

  Des's body was a miracle. Open to him, every lush valley and sheltering fold moist with her need.

  Sliding his arms between her thighs, he gripped the lower rails of the bed, and moved forward to give her a long, slow lick along the seam of her body.

  In shocked pleasure, she automatically went to close her legs, but his strong arms prevented it, holding her open. Forcing her open.

  "Simon..."

  He licked again, using the tip of his tongue, and when she moaned, he swirled his tongue against her perineum, knowing it was one of the most sensitive parts of a wench's hidden treasures. That and the clitoris he closed his lips around and sucked gently. Mercilessly.

  Des was panting now, gasping, her back arching down as she clung to the bedrail for support. He felt her thighs tremble against his arms.

  His own blood pounded hotly, sizzling through his veins, filling his staff to an almost unbearable fullness. Arched against his abdomen, the tip was red, a drop of seed sitting at the top of the slit.

  His phallus was thick, heavy, long. Throbbing with the need for release.

  But Simon wasn't finished yet, using all his inner strength to push himself above his own need.

  And as he rose above his need, he pushed Des to the limit of hers.

  Playing his tongue around the opening of her vagina, he flicked the tender rim. Her taste flooded him, and he reveled in it. Like the wench, it was a tart sweetness from which he would never tire.

  Placing his lips against the entrance, he sucked strongly, and then blew gently.

  Des stiffened, and when he slid his finger in deep, he felt her muscles clench hard around him. Her breaths came in panting gasps, and she pushed back against his finger desperately, seeking relief.

  Keeping still inside her, he said softly, “Do you want me, Des?” When she didn't reply, he slowly drew his finger out, bending the tip so that it dragged across her muscles.

  "Simon!"

  "Say it.” He lightly tapped the hard little bud no longer hidden by the folds of her labia.

  She jerked in response, and he heard her shuddering breath.

  In one smooth motion, he removed his hands from the rail and pushed upright, ensuring his hands slid up the inside of her thighs and around to her bottom on the way. Poised behind her, he trailed his fingertip across the small of her back, watching the moistness of her body gleam on it.

  The sexual tension in the room was so thick. He could smell her scent, heavy and wholly female, and it spoke to the maleness in him. His staff was so engorged now, he knew it wouldn't take much for him to explode. His scrotum was tight, the pit of his stomach heavily coiled as it waited, burned, for release.

  "Damn!” Des exploded, the word coming out in a rush, her voice still husky with sexual frustration. “Take me!"

  "Take you?” His hand slid down along her bottom to cup her heat.

  "I'm begging you!” She started to push upright.

  Again Simon prevented her, using his hand on her back to hold her down. One step was all it took to move into position, to come right up behind her.

  Still with iron control, he guided his staff to her vagina, sliding unerringly but with agonizing slowness into her tight sheath, feeling the muscles clamp around him as he slid right in to the hilt.

  Des let out one shuddering breath and pushed back against him. Simon's iron control snapped as the first ripple went through her muscles and shuddered along the highly sensitized tip of his staff and down the shaft.

  Griping her hips, he pulled out and slammed back in.

  She cried out, and for a second he feared that he had hurt her, his concern coming through the blaze of erotic heat, and he held still, deep in her body.

  "Please, Simon, don't stop. Please. Please!"

  "Des—"

  "Don't stop!" She looked back over her shoulder, and his breath caught at the sheer sexual voracity in her eyes. The yellow seemed to burn through the pale brown, her lips were full and red, color touching her high cheekbones.

  The expression in her eyes fanned his own carnal craving, and without a second more hesitation, Simon drew out almost to the very tip before thrusting back in again.

  His rhythm was hard and fast, pushing them both higher up the path towards a fulfillment he was determined they'd reach together. With every thrust he heard her moan, with every withdrawal he felt her muscles clamping around him, holding him in a tight, wet glove of pure eroticism.

  Bent to his will, at his mercy, Des was his ultimate fantasy come to life. But he had other ways he wanted to take her.

  Later.

  Scrotum pulling up tight, splintering sparks searing through his veins, Simon felt the very gathering of his seed. Every thrust stoked the flames hotter, the wet friction of her hot, clasping sheath tearing at his desire.

  He couldn't think of any time that had been so purely carnal, a fight to start, and a fantasy to finish.

  Feeling the build-up, knowing he wasn't far now, Simon shortened his thrusts, made them harder, faster, pushing into her mercilessly, glorying in being able to possess and take a wench without fear of hurting someone smaller.

  Releasing all restraint, all inhibitions and natural instinct to be more careful, he slammed deep, shoved, losing himself in the sounds of her voice crying out in pure, unadulterated ecstasy, the heat of her body, the hedonistic satisfaction of knowing his lass craved him as much as he craved her, that she welcomed him thrusting so hard and fast into her.

  The primal male beast in him roared in satisfaction as the seed burst from his body, as he pumped inside her, branding her with his sperm, filling her with himself.

  She cried out his name and he felt the walls of her vagina ripple, clamping down on his staff, milking him of his seed.

  Still he pumped into her, fingers gripping her hips hard, holding her for his thrusts as he emptied himself inside her, the sensation of dragging through those tight, gripping muscles sending him over the edge so that he didn't want to stop.

  Never wanted to stop.

  Clasping her to him in one final thrust, his head thrown back, his hair spilling down his back in a sweat-drenched swathe, Simon strained into her, his hips giving one last jerk as they both climaxed, spilling over into the vortex of soul-shattering pleasure.

  He couldn't think how long it lasted, how long he spun in a glittering array of intense feelings and emotions, but when he came to, he curved over her back and slid his arms around her waist.

  "Let go of the rail,” he rasped.

  Spent, she obeyed, and he pulled her back, dropping to his knees with her before him. Sitting back on his heels, he held her limp body against his chest, the underside of her full breasts brushing his forearms with every shuddering breath she took

  Resting his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her, Simon relaxed, almost wallowing in the aftermath of the prurient storm they'd just shared. Closing his eyes, he simply rested while his thundering heart slowed to a more normal beat, and his breathing became even.

  Twelve

  "It's done?"

  "Yes.” Sulkily, she looked back at him from the viscomm.

  Canute smiled. “Well done, m'dear."

  "I'm not your lackey to order around!"

  "You'll do as I say, when I say it, or you'll be just another missing woman, forgotten very quickly."

  Anger flared in her eyes. “I'm not a whore!"

  He ignored it, but noted with satisfaction the flash of fear in her eyes. “The bounty hunters are still around?"

  "Yes."

  "The military has left."

  "Yes."

  "Then it won't be much longer. Once the bounty hunters leave, it will be clear for us to move in."

  Her eye softened. “Canute, you know I love you."

  "As much as you love the idea of being rich."

  "More.” Her tone was wheedling, a touch of sultriness in it that was totally false.

  Canute surveyed her with amusement. No, he didn'
t want this woman. The one he wanted was a force to be reckoned with. This woman was spineless, and only good enough to obey commands.

  "Canute?"

  "I'll be in touch.” He flicked the viscomm off.

  He really was tiring of all this waiting, but the time was almost upon them to move. Settling back in his chair, he watched the dust motes in the air. He'd waited a long time, what were a few days more?

  * * * *

  Nestled back against Simon, the hard dips and swells of his muscles cushioning her back and head, Des felt like she could simply drift away in the rosy, contented afterglow of a most explosive lovemaking.

  Simon had said he'd burn her, and by God, he hadn't lied. The man had more than lived up to his word.

  "You begged.” The words fanned warmly against her ear.

  "Mmmm.” Tilting her head back, she opened her eyes drowsily to see Simon looking down at her tenderly.

  "Sleepy, lass?"

  "Mmmm.” She stretched leisurely and was more than ready to settle back against him, but his sudden movement had her jerking upright. “What the—"

  Swept up in his arms while he pushed to his feet with ridiculous ease, Des gaped at him. Mostly because there was a wicked glint in his pale blue-green eyes.

  "Did you think I was finished?” Tossing her into the middle of the big bed, Simon came up to easily straddle her body, his knees either side of her thighs, his hands braced either side of her shoulders.

  Stunned, she could only stare up at him. Surely he couldn't be ready yet? So soon? A glance down saw him already most impressively half erect.

  His grin was a flash of teeth, white and strong, and he bent his elbows so he could lean down and press a kiss to her lips, his tongue flicking out to demand entrance.

  Instinctively she opened to him and his possession of her mouth was immediate. His flavor filled her again, and she could smell his scent—hot male, arousal, and that other scent that was so uniquely Simon.

  Heart picking up pace, she slid her hands around his neck, tunneling her fingers into the thick spill of fair hair that tumbled about the broad shoulders and fell down the powerful chest and back of the Daamen trader.