Vengeful Lord, Defiant Lady.

by Maggie Pritchard

  This kiss however was different, his lips moved over hers in a gentle salutation as his hands moulded her to him. When she stiffened in resistance, rather than apply more of his considerable strength, he gentled even further, running swift light kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other, then back again this time flicking with his tongue seeking entrance. When she refused to comply he increased the pressure slightly before moving back just far enough to exhale a warm, wine scented breath over her nostrils and mouth that made her gasp at the intimacy of it. That gasp was all the opportunity he needed to invade her mouth with the force of his. She shuddered as he took control, groaning deep in his chest at the sweet taste of her. His tongue swept sensitive tissues sending sensations as enticing as they were alien through Catherine. As he bent her further back she moved her hands to his shoulders for support and from there, of their own volition, they found the strong column of his neck and the dark silk of his hair. Then roughly muttering something intelligible he broke the kiss, picked her up, crossed the room and deposited her on the big bed.

  He made swift work of removing her nightgown, the delicate ribbons and lace no barrier to his practiced hands. Then in a lithe movement he shrugged off his own robe and moved to pin her down with his long lean body.

  In the space of a few moments Catherine’s emotions flew from fear, through the first stirrings of arousal and back again. She’d scarcely begun to respond to the excitement of her first sensual kiss when he’d shocked her rigid by revealing, first her nakedness and then his own. The sight of his brown flesh so alien against her milky whiteness, the shocking feel of his skin cool against hers, all of his against all of hers and the sensual force of his mouth as he rocked her world with a volley of kisses of such blatant passion that all she could do for a second was open in submission.

  Then reality flooded back in as she felt his hands moving with strength and purpose along the sensitive flesh of her thigh, long fingers seeking her most intimate places. She felt the heated hardness of his frighteningly alien maleness pressing there and cried out as fear chased away newly felt passion.

  ‘No, no, please I cannot...’

  ‘Don’t play coy with me lady, you’ll find me lacking in patience for such missish games!’

  His words rang in her ears as rough fingers bruised her shoulders, her struggles were useless, he pressed her back onto the bed and with an easy motion pushed one knee between her thighs forcing them apart, spreading her under him. Catherine felt him move over her, pressing intimately against her exposed core as his mouth possessed hers again. Then thankfully it was too much, terror numbed her brain and she stopped fighting.

  The sweet soft curves of her and her obvious sensual response to him blinded Alex to all but his need and made him react with anger to her coy play at resistance. She’d not deny her husband what she’d already given her gypsy lover. Instinctively he immobilized her, and prepared to take what was his, but as he brought his mouth back down on hers he tasted her fear. Acrid in his mouth it was echoed in the stiff, tense little body under him, and in that moment without a shadow of doubt he knew she’d lied.

  Catherine felt him draw back sharply, relief flooded in and she drew a deep shuddering breath.

  ‘You lied! Why would you lie about this?’

  His voice was incredulous and his eyes glinted like steel as he tightened his grip on her shoulders and shook her.

  ‘Answer me, there is no gypsy lover is there?’

  ‘No...’

  ‘No! Is that all you can say, you little idiot? You could have been hurt, I could have hurt you. Why, why would you lie about this? Answer me lady.’

  ‘I thought you would not want me if... if you thought I was not pure. Mama said a man expected to take a maid to wife...’ she broke off unable to continue.

  Alex moved then, putting some distance between them. Shrugging his robe back on he crossed the room and filled a glass as he struggled to make sense of his emotions. He was angry, he’d come to within a hair’s breadth of raping his virgin bride and the thought made him feel sick, but at the same time something inside him rejoiced in her lie. There was no lover, he’d be the first man to take her, and the last he vowed with a rising surge of possessiveness. Returning to the bed stood looking down at her, she was sitting now modestly clasping the coverlet to her breast, apprehension and relief in equal measure chasing across her pretty face.

  ‘Well milady, this is a pretty mess you’ve brought about, but let me disabuse you of one thing. Your fate was sealed long before we set eyes upon each other, brought about by the lies of another and now that we are wed you will devote yourself to your wifely duties, duties which begin here, tonight, in this bed.’

  His words chased away the faint hope that had brightened in Catherine’s heart when on finding her out, he’d stopped and to her relief had left the bed rather than force her as she’d expected.

  “Maybe, just maybe” she’d thought. But it was a false hope and in her disappointment and fear she found a remnant of her earlier courage, though her voice held an audible tremor as she spoke.

  ‘You expect too much sir, the feelings and determinations I appraised you of in my father’s garden a week ago have not been changed by a wedding ceremony. I will not be owned by you or any man, and if you insist upon claiming your due in this regard then you will confirm yourself as a heartless beast. For though I may have to endure it I assure you it will be done without my consent.’

  To her dismay her words had the opposite effect to their intention as he seated himself on the bed and pulled her close.

  ‘Your choice of words intrigues me lady, just what is it you fear you must endure?’

  ‘You’re attentions sir, Mama says...’

  ‘Ah, Mama says, one begins to understand a little. But you have a sister already married, don’t sisters talk, share such intimate details?’

  She was blushed a pretty shade of pink now he noticed, and her voice faltered as she searched for the words.

  ‘Dorothea...’

  Catherine almost lost the train of thought, the heat of his hand on her waist was making her acutely aware of her nakedness as he played it gently up and down her back, and his other hand was toying with the edge of the coverlet she held defensively against her breast.

  ‘Just what did Dorothea have to say,’ he prompted, needing to know now just how deep her ignorance went.

  ‘That if I was good and did my duty God would grant me a child and then it was to be hoped that you might not be so... so attentive.’

  Her words came out tumbling over themselves in a rush and she turned her face away, lowering her eyes in embarrassment, not only that she should relate such intimate details, but at the realization of her own ignorance. He was a man of experience what would he make of her unworldliness.

  Alex barked a mirthless laugh at that before pulling the coverlet from her resisting fingers and running his free hand over her breast and down to her taut flat belly. He felt the muscles tighten defensively under his hand as he spoke, it was incredibly erotic. She was incredibly erotic, so slender, lithe and fit, her body excited him contrasting as it did with the soft, plump, indolence of the ladies he usually found his comforts with.

  ‘Oh my lady, let me assure you that far from cooling my ardour, this sweet little body swollen with my child, your delightful little breasts growing plump and ripe, all this will feed my need to enjoy you.’

  ‘You are a beast sir, I had not thought it possible to hate you more, but I do now. I find you abhorrent and lacking in any gentlemanly qualities. You will use superior power and strength to bend me to your will, with no regard for my feelings... I will not bear it I cannot, I cannot!’

  Her words and renewed struggles brought with them a flood of compassion and shame that took Alex completely by surprise. All he could do was hold her close until she stopped struggling and collapsed against him. Burying her face in the deep blue velvet of his robe, she sobbed, and he knew then that no matter what he’d plo
tted he’d not force her.

  ‘Hush now,’ he soothed. ‘You have nothing to fear from me lady, hush.’

  He held her as slowly her sobs subsided, trying to analyse his own lack of purpose, was it because of his discovery that this girl had been sent to her marriage bed with no idea what to expect? Or was it something else, some softening in him. Well maybe he’d not carried out his threat but her father need not know his darlings reprieve.

  Only when he was sure she slept did he move, carrying her to her own bed untouched, at least for this night.

  It was a bright, fresh morning, the sun was chasing the dew from the grass of the castle parkland as the day began and Alex rode Al-Ashab across the estate. He always rode at daybreak and rode hard, needing the release of the exertion. It was almost like a confirmation of life, as if somehow in his mastery of the powerful stallion he found a way of defying death itself. It had been like this since Emily had died, every morning he rode like the devil and for a few short hours his rage at her loss faded. But this day, for some reason he could not fathom, was different. He didn’t feel the need to push his mount, to urge the horse to fly, in fact he was holding him back and the animal danced and snorted his impatience. For the first time in more months than he could remember Alex was not enjoying the ride so much, his thoughts were elsewhere, focused on a pair of violet eyes, silken hair and slender curves. He remembered with shame how she’d fought him, how she’d cried herself to sleep in his arms, then the memory of her initial response to his kiss flooded in making his body harden and evaporating what little enjoyment he was taking from the ride. Almost without realizing it he turned a reluctant Al-Ashab for home.

  Catherine woke to the delicious aroma of the hot chocolate and fresh rolls Anwen was setting down beside her bed. Sitting up and realizing her nakedness, memory of the previous night flooded in and she blushed. She must have fallen asleep she remembered, and he must have brought her back to her own bed rather than take what was his due as her husband. What could it mean, why had he exercised such restraint?

  Anwen seeing her mistress blush, reached for a soft cashmere bed-jacket to cover her, blushing herself at the evidence of the intimacies that had obviously taken place. No doubt there would be discreet washing of bed linens this day.

  ‘Here milady this will warm you, eat now and drink too while I prepare your toilette.’

  Catherine blushed even deeper pink as she sipped the sweet chocolate, the girl obviously assumed she’d been bedded as a bride should, and having endured it now needed tender care. She wondered idly what the girl would think if she knew the truth, that her mistress was still a maid. Would she be shocked?

  ‘Is his lordship at breakfast yet?’ She asked for something to say rather than out of a desire to know.

  ‘Oh no milady, the master rides every morning, he was up and mounted by daybreak as always. It will be some while before he returns,’

  Catherine sighed, oh to be out in the early morning sunshine with a good mount under her and the freedom to do as she wished, would she ever be able to savour that innocent pleasure again? Suddenly her thoughts were disturbed by the rather forceful opening of the adjoining door to her husband’s chamber. She gave an involuntary jump and the girl, who was laying out the garments for the day started upright, took one look at the glare her master directed at her and fled.

  Catherine watched as her husband approached, he’d discarded his jacket and cravat, loosening the shirt enough to reveal the strong brown column of his neck. For a brief moment all she could think of was how good it had felt to cling to him and thread her fingers in the silk of his hair. Somehow he seemed less intimidating to her this morning, maybe it was that he was dressed, even if improperly, but then she caught the powerful movement of his muscular thighs encased in the fine cloth of his riding breeches as he strode towards her bed and her eyes widened in trepidation once more as he seated himself beside her.

  ‘Awake at last lady, I trust you slept well?’

  He give her no chance to answer, reaching for the cup she held clasped to her breast he sipped it, grimaced at the sweetness of its contents and placed it on the bedside table.

  She found her voice, though it trembled slightly.

  ‘I thought you were riding this morning sir? It is surely a fine morning to be abroad.’

  ‘Mm, yet somehow my mount suited me not and I felt a compelled to return and seek another.’

  ‘And did you not find a horse to suit sir, surely your stable is extensive enough to provide such variety.’

  ‘I ride Al-Ashab or I do not ride, I must therefore seek some other release for my tensions.’

  He saw her flush prettily and her eyes widen in alarm as she grasp the meaning behind his words.

  ‘Don’t be afraid of me Kate, you have nothing to fear from me I promise.’

  His words were softly spoken and accompanied by a gentle caress of her cheek.

  Catherine was spellbound, his manner was so different, no longer the master, the dominating husband, his approach was beguiling, his intimate use of her name and the gentleness of his hand making her tremble. Alex felt it and pressed his advantage, gently kissing her pink lips, then moving to trail little nips and kisses along her jaw line and down her throat. All the while his fingers toyed with the ribbons that held the soft cashmere concealing her from him. He felt her raise her hands to his chest, pushing slightly as if to keep some distance between them, but there was nothing of the desperate fire of last night’s resistance in her touch now. So while one hand continued its play with the ribbon he slipped the other below the blanket that shielded her, caressing her delightful tiny waist and the silken skin of her back. It excited him to find that apart from the cashmere garment she was still naked as when he’d reluctantly placed her back in her bed.

  His kisses moved to the base of her neck and she gasped as she felt his tongue taste the dips and hollows there, the sensation sent shivers of pleasure down her spine that she felt sure must be transferred to the hand that was caressing her back and waist. Then he was kissing her again, and this time the pleasure of his cool mouth on hers made her hands move involuntarily from his chest to clutch at his shoulders. The kiss seemed endless and for the second time in her life Catherine felt the drugged wonder of her own sensuality. It seeped into her brain making her arch into him, making her long for more, though she feared what more might entail.

  Alex groaned deep in his chest at thesweetness of her response, his need growing by the minute but his experience telling him he needed to move slowly, to use all of his considerable skill to keep her from returning to her fear of him and what he wanted from her.

  ‘Come to bed with me Kate.’

  He moved back slightly as he murmured the words, watching her eyes register the request and wonder at it. She seemed to consider a moment then she nodded her consent and it took all his self-control not to ravish her there and then.

  Catherine couldn’t quite understand why he was asking not taking. He was stronger than her, he had made it clear he would master her, why was he now giving her a choice? Then she met his eyes and the passion in their slate grey depths seemed to draw the answer from deep inside her and she found herself nodding in acquiescence. Though her heart began to drum in her breast with fear as he removed the flimsy jacket with sure fingers. Oh what she had just committed herself to?

  He carried her into his chamber, laying her gently on the big bed and seated beside her commenced to kiss her passionately. All the while his hands gently smoothed and caressed her shoulders and arms, fingertips running down her body, palms circling her waist and gliding in warm appreciation over the gentle swell of her hips before coming to rest on the taught flat of her belly. He continued until Catherine felt she was on fire, that if he didn’t stop she would be consumed by this yearning that he was firing up inside her. Everywhere his hands went they drew a trail of heated pleasure from her skin but it was not enough, she wanted, needed more, more of this, more of him. Her own response to h
im shocked her, but more shocking than that was her need to have him touch her even more intimately. Her breasts were swollen and aching, and from deep in her belly a heat was spreading, moving lower, to where surely he would not venture. But he did.

  Alex watched her growing passion, her body spoke of it as her hips moved, as her breasts grew taut and her nipples tightened invitingly. Sitting upright he grasped the hem of his shirt dragging it up and over his head, removing the barrier it made between them. She reached for him small hot hands caressing without the finesse of experience and the very innocence of her touch excited him as no other woman ever had. He closed the gap between them crushing her to him, savouring the feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest, then finding her mouth commenced to kiss her again as she clasped his back with feverish hands. He was beyond reason now, his need for her painful, but still he held back, he wanted her ready, as ready as he could possibly make her, wildly ready, so then, when he took her, it would not be pain that filled her but the wonder of his possession. Moving away from her again he removed the rest of his clothes, holding her eyes with his, watching her watch his body revealed, a sudden intake of breath pulling her little belly inwards and pushing up her breasts so that all he could think of was how much he needed to taste their rosy crests.

  Catherine watched as he revealed himself to her, fear flooded back in but only for a moment because he was beautiful. The bulging arms, the width of his shoulders above the strength of his chest, the flat-ridged belly, narrow hips and muscled thighs were as perfect as the Greek statues she’d studied and drawn. But they had not been clothed in bronzed velvet as he was, neither had they this dusting of black hair marking an arrow to that thick upright shaft that so boldly pronounced his maleness. Then he was back beside her, his kisses and caresses again blocking out all thought and driving her to respond to him as he whispered sweet reassurances.