*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/502560-Chapter-two
by Inga
Rated: GC · Book · Romance/Love · #1249443
The first story from the land of Albion
#502560 added May 3, 2007 at 3:09pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter two
         Chapter Two


         Kay took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself and ease the tension in his shoulders. He was close to falling asleep in the warm water when he heard the slight rustling behind him, and he reacted with the instinct of a warrior who had seen many good men stabbed in the back after letting their guard down.
         “I surrender, please don’t kill me.” The teasing words were delivered with a mischievous smile that broke through his tension and focused his attention on the sight in front of him. The woman, now awake, was smiling up at him, seemingly unafraid in the face of a warrior, naked except for his sword, still pointed at her heart. He hastily lowered it and almost apologized before catching himself. He’d be damned before he apologized to this strange creature who had invaded his space. Instead he gave her his sternest glare, the one that had his page wetting himself and made even hardened veterans give him a wide berth.
         It didn’t seem to have much effect on this woman though. She just kept smiling up at him. And what a smile! She was very pretty, with big blue eyes and a nose that tilted up slightly giving her a mischievous look that matched the glint in her eyes. She might not be called beautiful with the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her slightly too wide nose, and her face a little too round to be fashionable, but when she smiled, she seemed to glow from within with pure joy. He found himself smiling back for no apparent reason. Once he realized what he was doing he tried to stop, but her smile grew at the sight of his and… damn, he was in trouble!
         “I think you should kiss me now.”
         He could not have heard that correctly! The feeling of stunned amazement was making way for annoyance. He was used to feeling in control of every situation, and this woman, barely more than a girl, threw him completely off track with a smile! He would end this now, and start questioning her.
         And he would have, if she hadn’t chosen that moment to open her lips slightly, her tongue darting out to moisten her lower lip. The sight of that pink temptation shook him to the core of his being, his eyes glued to the alluring movement as it slipped back into her mouth. He wanted to climb in after it, he wanted to lick her lush lips and invade her mouth. He wanted to eat her, taste her, to savor her mouth and body. His stomach clenched with hunger, and she was offering to sate him. How could he refuse?


         Marissa was amazed by her own courage. The stranger, whose name she didn’t even know, looked at her as if he wanted to devour her! It was both exhilarating and frightening to cause such a reaction in a man. The sight of him, naked and proud with water dripping from his bare skin sent a shiver of anticipation through her stomach. She was in completely uncharted territory, but clinging to her life’s motto, “Live without fear”.
         His eyes darkened as he looked at her, from piercing blue to liquid purple. He bent down towards her until their eyes were level, and she could feel his breath against her face. Goosebumps broke out on her back, and her lips tingled with the need to touch his. He was so close, all she had to do was lean forward ever so slightly…
         His lips were soft and warm against her own, and oh so sweet. Neither of them moved, both were caught up in the feel of each other, afraid to disturb the moment. Soon however, a need to touch him blossomed in Marissa, and following an age-old instinct she placed her hands on his chest, caressing him. He shuddered under her gentle touch. Encouraged, she stroked her way up to his strong shoulders, before linking her fingers behind his neck, dragging him closer.
         He resisted her pull, and for a moment she thought he would pull back and reject her, but then a low growling sound emitted from the back of his throat, and he reached out, crushing her to him. The feeling of his body pressed against her own was exhilarating, she wanted to rub herself against him, pressing closer. He seemed to understand what she wanted, because he grabbed the blanket still covering her, and roughly pushed it aside. He then grabbed neckline of her gown, and tore the fabric straight down to her waist.
         His urgency shocked her, but her apprehension was soon forgotten as he palmed her now exposed breasts. His palms were rough, the skin hardened by years of fighting, and the friction against her sensitive nipples exited her like nothing ever had. She arched her back and moaned in appreciation, the moan growing to a cry of pleasurable pain as he leaned his head down and bit down on the flesh just under her areola. He licked the spot, soothing the sting and causing her to writhe against him. His tongue flicked over her puckered nipple, once, twice, before crushing his mouth to it, sucking hard.
         The sensation was overwhelming, her body was seething with need. She was so caught up in the unfamiliar emotions that she barely registered that the man pushed his hand under the hem of her dress, lifting it up and exposing her lower body to his hungry eyes. He wedged his knee between her legs, parting them wide. The position left her feeling very vulnerable, but the slight apprehension soon evaporated as his fingers found their way through her curly triangle to the slick folds between her legs. A finger delved into her moist cave, and his palm created a delicious friction against her. She sobbed with pleasure, her hips rising to meet his touch. Her hands clawed at his back, desperate for the release she could feel, just out of reach.
         His weight shifted above her, his large frame pressing her down on the blankets underneath her, the wool rough against her back. Something hard and wide touched her entrance, and she welcomed the touch, wanting, needing, more.
         He surged into her, a hard thrust sheathing him to the hilt in her warmth. Again she cried, this time in pain. It was too much, he was too big, filling her up far past the point of comfort. He pulled out, but the relief was short lived, as he immediately plunged back in, driving her breath from her lungs. Burying his head against her neck, he began pumping into her in earnest, long, hard thrusts that overwhelmed her inexperienced body in a brutal assault.
         She was swept away by his fierceness, and all she could do was cling to his shoulders and hope for the best. Small, hurt mewling sounds came from her throat as she tried to breathe through the pain. She tried to protest, but she couldn’t fill her lungs to form the words. Her body had stilled underneath his, but he was oblivious to her reluctance, lost in his own world of pleasure and lust.
         His movements changed, becoming shorter, harder, more urgent. A sound seemed to grow from his stomach, moving up his chest until finally it exploded out of his mouth in a roar of ecstasy as he pumped his release into her with a final powerful thrust of his hips, crushing her against the bed padding.
         He collapsed on top of her, his weight once again driving all the air from her lungs. This time he seemed to notice her gasp for breath, and with a groan he rolled to the side, the movement separating him from her body. A strong arm closed around her shoulders, and he pulled her upper body close to his warm chest.
         Perversely, she felt empty without him inside her. Her body ached and her muscles trembled from the fierce onslaught, she couldn’t even move enough to close her legs. She lay there, shocked and bereft, and completely confused about what had just happened. The man, whose name she still didn’t know, held her close, and she could hear his heart slowing down in his chest, and his breath calm. Very soon he was asleep, oblivious to the storm of conflicting emotions struggling for the upper hand in her body.
         Marissa had never been prone to violence, but she really wanted to hit the man. How could he fall asleep after what they had just shared? She turned her head to look at him.
         She couldn’t keep calling him “the man”, so after a moments consideration she decided to name him Olaf. A fitting name for such a Viking-look alike. She considered moving away from him, but she didn’t think her body would cooperate, and in any case there was something comforting by his massive presence next to her. Despite the pain, and despite his obvious disregard of her comfort during their lovemaking, she felt safe.
She played back the events of the past half hour in her mind, and decided that up to the point where he had entered her, she had enjoyed the experience very much. She could understand why it was such a popular pastime. Yet it felt unfinished. “Olaf” had reached a release that had escaped her. She had been close though. When his hand touched her so intimately between her legs…
         Unconsciously she reached between her legs, seeking to rediscover the feeling of pleasure. She was sore, her flesh swollen, and liquid was dripping out of her. She suspected that at least some of the liquid was blood, yet the pleasure was still there. She felt it through the pain, and it spurred her on.
         She tried to insert a finger, but the angle was too awkward, and the pain too sharp. Instead she focused on the spot where the pleasure was most intense. It felt good, the friction generating just the feelings she remembered. Boldly now, she let her other hand slide up her abdomen, until it caressed her breast.
         The sensation was amazing. Tiny sparks of lightening shot through her body, faster as she increased the speed and pressure of her hands. She bit her lip, trying to keep a gasp from escaping. She did not want to wake “Olaf” up right now, this pleasure was for herself alone.
         A pressure was gathering in her stomach, and it increased as her hips circled against her fingers. She lost her rhythm, her movements frantic even as the muscles in her arm screaming in protest against this unusual strain. Then suddenly she felt it, a sharp stab of pleasure grating against her nerve endings, almost painful in its intensity. It lasted only seconds before a lazy heaviness settled in her body, leaving her feeing calm and content.
         Yes, she could understand why people sought out this feeling again and again. She didn’t really think pain was supposed to be part of the experience, perhaps she and “Olaf” were simply not compatible? She considered waking him to ask him, but that would involve moving or talking, and she really didn’t feel like doing either. Instead she closed her eyes and let the last shivers of relaxed pleasure lull her into sleep.


         Kay woke as he always did, immediately alert yet not moving or altering the rhythm of his breath. He listened closely for any danger nearby, but all he could hear were the bustling sounds of the camp, and the deep breathing of the woman laying next to him. His arm was still around her shoulders, and her head rested on his arm. He found the weight of it unexpectedly pleasant, the knowledge that someone would let their guard down enough around him to fall asleep was strangely comforting.
         What a surprise she had been, a fiery vixen, burning up in his hands. In a life full of death and destruction, she was a precious gift to give him such pleasure. He had lost himself in her body, and even now he still savored the peace she had given him.
         He turned his head to look at her, and was immediately pulled out of his complacent reverie. His vixen was a mess! He swore creatively in three different languages at the sight of her face, dried tears staining her pale skin and her lower lip swollen and bruised from a rough bite. Another bite mark marred her breast, along with several dark bruises, and her thighs were stained with blood.
         The sight chilled him to the bone!
         His vixen had not been a vixen after all, but an innocent, a virgin. She had reacted with such beautiful natural sensuality, and he had…
         A groan of regret escaped him when he remembered how he had plundered her body, confident in her ability to take pleasure from him as he did from her, without care or concern for her comfort. He shouldn’t have taken her at all! But she had been so warm and inviting that even now the sight of her body and the memory of how she felt beneath him stirred him and made him hard.
         He shook off the lustful thoughts and tried to dampen his arousal by assessing her bruised and battered body. There were no serious damage, unless the blood between her legs signaled internal damage in addition to the loss of her virginity. He had never before been with a virgin, so he didn’t know how much blood was usual, but he imagined that had there been any real damage, the blood loss would be more severe.
         He didn’t think he had slept long, the water in the bath barrel was probably still warm and would go a long way towards easing the pain in her muscles, as well as washing away the evidence of his rampant lust. He slipped quietly from the bed and pulled on a soft tunic and some breeches, before checking the water temperature It was only lukewarm, but he didn’t want to wait for new water, nor did he feel like allowing anyone else to see the state of his little vixen, so he would make do.
         He grabbed a washcloth, soaked it in water, and turned towards the sleeping woman on the bed. With unusually gentle hands, he washed away the blood and semen from her thighs, wanting to erase the evidence of his crime from her body before waking her up. He didn’t question this desire, nor the care with which he treated her, he just wanted to ease the discomfort she would undoubtedly feel upon waking up. She had given him a gift of exquisite pleasure, the last thing he wanted was for her to dread the act which had brought him such satisfaction and peace.
         He still didn’t know her name or why she was in his tent to begin with, but these concerns took back stage to the new burning need to repair the damage he had caused her.
         When the last stain was gone, he lifted her carefully from the bed pallet, and carried her to the bath. She was so light in his arms, her head snuggled against his throat and the soft breath caressed his skin as she expelled a contented sigh. The soft sound melted something in the region of his heart, and he tightened his arms around her protectively. The movement caused her to wake, he felt her body stiffen while she tried to come to grips with where she was.
         Steeling himself against the disgust and fear he expected to see in her eyes, he lowered his gaze to meet hers.





** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
© Copyright 2007 Inga (UN: inga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Inga has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/502560-Chapter-two