His shoulders were weighty, and his thighs thickly laid. He was
taller than other man she had seen, with his wild mane of black hair. It
was thick and laid in a blackened tangled down his back, but it was his
face that arrested her the most. This was no fair skinned Saxon man, but
a rough-skinned, masculine warrior. The word warrior breathed in every
harsh angle of his strong features, from the dark shadow on his jaw, of
a beard not scraped in days, to his blunt, slightly crooked nose. His
eyes were shards of brilliant light blue, gazing down at her as she
shivered in unconscious rebellion upon what they were asking, before she
turned her eyes hastily away.
She should never have looked upon him so boldly! He would
misconstrue her gaze for an invitation that she would never give to him.
Even as this thought entered her mind, she was crying out her denial.
"Nay!" she cried.
Yet, he was already upon her, down on his knees beside her, lifting
the fur away from her quaking nude body beneath. "You will not
deny me, Saxon slave," he growled, even as his fist tangled in her hair
at the back of her head. Then he pulled her hair, forcing her neck to
arch backward, bowing her naked body toward him. She was supine beneath
him and completely powerless "Have I the need to take a lash to
you?" he asked coarsely, shifting his intense gaze over her naked
breasts, down over her belly, to then halt on the exposed blonde mound
between her thighs.
His gaze remained focused there, on her helplessly bared sex, as he
shook her head and hissed, "Answer me!"
Coward! She was naught but a weakling coward, Kiana thought
with agony, even as she cried out in terror and confusion. "Yes, beat
me, for I will never willingly be thy slave!"
"You will never hold against the pain. Your mere fragileness
will defeat you," he muttered angrily, still holding her body arched to
his rabid gaze. "Yet . . . if you insist to test me, I have no choice
but to prove it to you."
Kiana would have sobbed out her surrender, but her voice was too
tight with fear as the Norman lord hauled her up onto her knees before
him. He pulled at her hair again, forcing her head backward, with his
gaze fiercely laid, as he watched her frantically twisting her wrists
against the bonds holding her prisoner. Her chest heaved as frightened
pants escaped her throat.
"You are so frightened now, pagan Saxon, that you pant near to
fainting," the dark lord muttered as his free hand rose upward to clasp
her throat.
Kiana thought surely he would choke her unto death, but his wide
hand, while rough-skinned with callouses was gentle in its touch. He
held her there, so vulnerable, so frightened, while the edges of his
fingertips stroked her exposed throat. His thumb circled the hollow
above her collarbone, while he caught and held her gaze with eyes so
vivid, she felt as if they spoke secrets to her. Secrets of her fate and
the surety that she was now his and nothing of this earth would change
the power with which he would hold her subjugated to him.
"Yea . . . but say to me, you are my slave, and will obey me,
maiden, and I will not take you from my tent to lash your fair naked
body for all my men to see," he claimed quietly, as he ran his fingers
downward between her heaving breasts. Kiana quaked, but this time with
more than fear inspiring it. "You would never last, pagan nymph, and I
would despise to mar your pearly buttocks so."
Would that she could speak, Kiana thought in agony, but her
throat was as tight and trembling as her body. She could do naught, but
look up at her dark master helplessly.
Suddenly there came a shout outside the tent, The nearest voice
yelling, "Milord, they have broken through the wall!"
The dark Norman lord glared toward the tent opening, yet no one
appeared as he raised his voice loudly, "Yea, I will be there at once!"
When he tuned his gaze back to her, Kiana saw triumph lighting his
startling blue eyes, and then whence he spoke, his voice was a deep
tenor. "You have been rescued, pagan, for the moment. Yet—while I leave
you for this time, think upon my command. You will never have the hope
of defying my determination for any length of time."
His knuckles strayed between her breasts and lower over her belly
and then brushed over the tuft of hair between her thighs. Kiana
flinched away from his touch with a frightened pant, yet he released her
saying, "Lay down again, maiden, and I will cover you."
It was so awkward, but Kiana wanted nothing as much as that mere fur
to cover her nakedness. So she managed, and he remained true to his
word, placing the fur over her before he stood. "I would care for
nothing better, than to fuck you the first time, in the lord’s chamber
of Garth," he stated arrogantly before he turned and left the tent.
