The Dark Lady (17 page)

The dress twisted and constricted around her as she kicked wildly to get free. Her balance slipped and she sprawled along the whole length of him.

Peter had barely untangled himself from the saddle in time to catch her, keeping her full weight from slamming the breath out of both of them. She tried to sit up, tried to untangle her legs, and was unable. She cursed loudly as she yanked at the stubborn material.

Peter clutched her dress. His other hand wrapped around her waist, steadying her. He gave several hard tugs. The material gave out a soft ripping sound, but still refused to release her legs. She fought and kicked and soon they were both wrapped in the length of her gown.

Peter added his curses to hers, his voice tight and pained. She knew she was large and was sure she was heavy against him. His breathing was harsh and his arms trembled. Not wanting to hurt him further, she renewed her struggles to release them both from her dress.

She let out a string of oaths that would have made some of her men blush and finally managed to free one leg. Cool air brushed against her sweat laden skin and relief washed over her.

Peter grabbed her raised thigh, shoved the dress from her other thigh and pulled her into a sitting position, astride him.

She froze. His lust was apparent as she felt the rough material of his tights straining against her woman’s mound. She felt a strange pulling sensation deep in her belly and alarm replaced the sweet sensation of relief.

Unsure of what to do, wanting to run and wanting to stay, she did nothing, only sat stiffly upon him not daring to move. Her breathing came in short gasps. Warmth spread from her chest to her stomach and settled deeply between her legs.

Peter ran his hands up her arms, causing them to tremble uncontrollably. She tensed her muscles to stop the vibrations that were overwhelming her, but the shudders continued.

He stared up at her. His hands slipped beneath the bunched material of her dress and came to rest on her hips. Heat raced across her skin.

Images of him beside this very lake, water dripping down his topless frame impaled her and she gasped.

Peter looked up at her questioningly, his grip tightening. Sucking in a deep breath and biting her lower lip, she averted her gaze and focused on the shimmering water and the wild call of the loons at its banks. She closed her eyes, but could still see him clearly as he had been so long ago.

She had been at page training for almost a year when she had come upon him waist deep in the lake one night. Hidden beneath the thickets, she had spied on him, staring raptly at the water droplets, glistening in the moonlight and running in small rivulets down the defined muscles of his chest as he bathed in the cool water. That had been the first night that she had fancied herself in love with him.

His fingertips ran along her arm, drawing her from her sweet memories. She opened her eyes and reluctantly met his gaze.

Her heart thudded erratically until she thought it would burst forth and reveal itself to him. Feeling as if she was an awkward child once again, she pressed her hands against her chest in an attempt to still the hammering within.

His hands traced a scorching path up her arms. He stared at her intently as he had the night she had saved his life, as if he were unsure of what he was seeing. Alarm tickled in the back of her mind, but it was faint and hard to distinguish beneath the passion that blazed within her.

His fingertips grazed her hands and tickled across her heaving breasts. Small shivers of anticipation buzzed through her head, completely overwhelming the alarm that struggled unsuccessfully to be heard.

He smiled softly and, pushing her hair out of the way, grasped the back of her neck. Lost in the passion she saw in his eyes, she did not fight him as he pulled her down to him.

Her nose brushed his. She held her breath anticipating his kiss, but to her disappointment he did not kiss her. He held her closely, staring deeply into her eyes as if trying to see into her soul.

She tried to draw her eyes away, to protect her secrets, but was unable to escape the hold he had on her. Not that of his hand on her neck, but that of his captivating gaze.

Staring into her eyes made Peter feel as if he were floating upon the surface of the lake, dark into the night, with only the shimmering glints of moonlight to hint at the secrets hidden within the water’s black depths.

Fear, desire, and uncertainty blazed in the darkness of Vanessa’s eyes, and he was lost in the swirling emotions.

Vanessa trembled as his hands pulled up the gown. He was convinced she was untouched by man. She had to be innocent, given the hesitant way she responded to his touches, the way she leaned toward him in eagerness, only to stiffen in fear a moment later.

He wondered if her shudders were from fear or excitement. Perhaps both, he thought and the realization shot sparks of desire through his loins.

He slid the gown slowly across her legs, and delighted in the way her muscular thighs trembled against him. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his calloused hands. His cock jumped eagerly, pleading for entry. He clutched at her bared bottom and pushed away the insistent desire that tore at his restraint.

She stiffened. Her eyes shifted nervously toward the horses and then back to him as if she were hoping for escape. He was prepared for her to run, to struggle, and to fight once more, but she surprised him, remaining as she was, sitting stiffly upon him.

A moist, teasing heat soaked through his braies, caressing his throbbing shaft, and divulging her passions to him in a warm invitation. His heart raced painfully at the knowledge that she wanted him.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to remain still and calm. She was innocent and he knew that, though her body might know what it wanted, she might not understand the emotions rampaging through her. He wanted to take his time, to give her pleasure.

He smiled up at her in what he hoped was encouragement, but he could not quell the trembling in his lips. She did not relax, but neither did she pull away or try to move his hand. His heart swelled and thudded loudly in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the various birds that surrounded the lake.

He wrapped the long silken strands of cascading hair around his unsteady fingers and pulled her mouth to his, pressing his lips onto hers.

She dropped her hands to his chest. Heat seared through his thick tunic, branding him. A chill raced across his spine, and he clenched his jaw to keep a groan from escaping.

He ran his tongue gently across her lips and reveled in the small gasp it elicited from her. His heart danced somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. He swallowed hard to get breath around it. Pressing his hardened cock against her, he rocked slowly, gently.

Her eyes closed and her hands clenched the front of his tunic, pulling erotically at the thick hair of his chest beneath it. He moved slowly wanting to take his time with her, to enjoy her fully as he brought her to pleasure. Her lips trembled against his and she shivered enticingly in his arms.

Desire flared brightly within him, battling with his control and slowly taking over. “Open your mouth.” He tried to make his words gentle and seductive, but they came out in a harsh, almost painful, command.

Her lips tightened and trembled, and then to his surprise they opened slowly, cautious and unsure. He smiled against her parted lips, amazed that she had obeyed so willingly.

He inhaled deeply as she surrendered to him, her hot breath mixing with his as his tongue invaded her parted lips. He shuddered.

She held herself stiffly through his ministrations, her tongue retreating whenever his grazed its tip.

Vanessa groaned deeply. It was a hauntingly familiar sound. He closed his eyes, tried to place it, and was lost in a dream as he kissed her soft lips. Wisps of memories caressed him. He tried to concentrate on them. A voice, a touch, they teased him gently and raced away. The sounds of a pounding and violent rain whispered to him seductively. The memory was within his grasp. Then Vanessa tentatively touched her tongue to his and it was gone.

Swirling desire fled in the way of a pulsing painful lust, and Peter lost all control at this sudden response from her. Her willingness, her eagerness sent him over the edge. He tumbled her onto her back, staying between her thighs as he rolled with her. He pulled up his tunic and fought with his braies and hose to free his engorged member.

He felt the heat of her sex scorch him as he ran his cock between her trembling thighs. Her tightness swallowed him as he plunged deep into her and with one sudden thrust he tore through her maidenhead.

Vanessa gasped, sucking in a deep whistling breath. He felt her hands on him, her strong fingers digging into his shoulders, clutching at his clothing.

Wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders, he buried his face into her fragrant hair and crushed her to him. He increased his pace, harder and faster as the tight pain of his lust built inside him like a hurricane.

He felt her begin to struggle beneath him, her hands shoving at his shoulders. Her legs tightened around him, hips rocking as she fought. Her deep shuddering moans vibrated through his body and she dug her nails painfully into his back.

He looked down into her face and caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes as she stared straight up at the sky above her. He tried to stop and slowed his thrusts. Her muscles tightened and released around his cock as she struggled, creating a pulsing, pulling sensation.

The violent storm within him was peaking. He was too close to the swirling winds of desire to pull free. The tempest called to him and he could do nothing but obey. He closed his eyes and everything was lost to him as he plunged into her faster and deeper, screaming his release, a release like nothing he had ever experienced before.

He collapsed on top of her, guilt quickly filling the void that was left as the storm dissipated.

Van lay shaking and confused beneath Peter, unsure of how to interpret the rush of emotions that had overtaken her during his rough lovemaking. She drew in long slow breaths and tried to swallow the thick lump in her throat. Her eyes closed, she went over the past few moments in an attempt to understand why she had panicked.

She had enjoyed the kisses he had given, but the moment he had rolled her onto her back she had begun to feel trapped, overpowered, and helpless. The loss of her virginity had not hurt as she had heard other women complain that it did, but the feeling of complete domination had suffocated her.

Her body had ached for him to continue even as fear had overwhelmed her. She did not understand how her body could want something that her mind rebelled against.

As he had slammed into her, a tight ball had started in the pit of her stomach and a building heat had swelled from between her legs. The flames had threatened to engulf her. That was when she had begun to fight.

Peter’s body trembled, drawing her from her thoughts. She listened to his raspy breathing and waited for him to move. He continued to lie still, even though she could feel him softening inside her.

She dropped her arms to her sides, the cool grass relieving some of the stress that wrapped her in a tight grip. The tension slowly eased from her muscles.

Her legs trembled as if she had run a mighty race. She shifted beneath him, adjusting her hips to find a semblance of comfort.

To her horror, she felt him begin to harden once again and her eyes flew open. “Nay, move not,” Peter said without lifting his head. “I did not do that well.”

She could feel his hot breath against her neck as he spoke, his voice a weak whisper.

Her breathing stopped, her heart raced, and she held herself perfectly still, hoping he would not want to take her again so soon.

She silently cursed herself for her weakness. She was not a weak woman and had indeed proved that fact over and over throughout many battles and injuries. So why was she afraid now? The fear of losing herself to him? The fear of liking it? She had no answers and shifted uncomfortably.

Peter shuddered as she shifted beneath him, pushing her hips into his. He groaned. “Do not move. Hold still and get used to me.” His words were muffled in her hair.

He inhaled its soft lavender scent and wrinkled his nose when the fine strands tickled at his face. He did not want to face her. He had acted like a lust starved child instead of a grown experienced man and could not understand it.

He wanted to stay buried in the safety of her hair, but knew he could not. He had to make sure she was not hurt or frightened. He hoped he could make her understand what he himself did not.

With a tight moan, he pulled himself up onto his elbows to look down at her. The thick powder on her face was laced with small rivulets of sweat. The fear was gone from her eyes and her face seemed calm behind the thick mask of powder. The overly sweet smelling powder hid her expressions, hid her feelings and irritated him.

“
How much powder do you have on your face?”

Vanessa began to struggle, her eyes widening in concern or fear. He was not sure which. What he was sure of, was that she needed to stay still. “Do not struggle.”

Her sudden movements stroked and throbbed around his already painful erection. He had not wanted to take a woman more than once since he couldn’t remember when, but as she continued to struggle he could feel a hot desire build within him.