Angie Arms - Flames series 04 (17 page)

“What are you thinking Emma?” this from her uncle.  He was such a kind, fun loving man.  She found it hard to believe he could keep
something of such magnitude from her.  They were close from the beginning.

“I do not understand why you would keep such a thing from me.”

“We did it to protect you,” her father said.  His eyes, as blue as a summer sky, were sad and pulled at her heart.  “You have a title and wealth set aside for you.  The only catch is to take a husband of the King’s choosing.  I loved your mother with all my heart.  She wanted to be with me, despite what I am.  I do not want you to marry a man who will not love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

She turned to Lucas.  Guiltily he looked away and shrugged.  “For me it was purely selfish on my part.  I did not want to give you up.”

“What do I do?”

“You have to make a decision,” Gabe replied.  “Do you want to stay here
, or go to the man who is hunting you?  We are still what we are,” he said, motioning between him and Lucas.  “We will be met with swords and not open arms.”

“I will not leave you.  Either of you.”

“We are glad to hear it.  We’ll keep you safe.  Don’t you worry,” Lucas said.  She stared at him, the chill of the night made her shiver.  Both men looked old suddenly.  They spent their lives in these woods, staying hidden, at times barely surviving.  If she had wealth, she could help change that for them.  They could not survive their older years, living the way they did.  She knew that time was coming upon them.  She grew up running the woods with them, it was their playground, and she realized it would be their graves if she did not do something.

For two days she mulled over her decision
, putting off the inevitable, before finally she walked the path to Helthpool, and stood in the courtyard, staring up at the tower.  She did not know if she could do this.  It was truly an unknown life to her.  She knew nothing of being a wife, let alone a noble’s wife.  Perhaps she made a terrible mistake, she thought as she stared up at the windows, knowing the horrors that occurred there.  She turned to flee and stopped short, seeing the blue-eyed man moving toward her, at a leisurely pace. 

“Did you come in hopes of finding me in the tub again?” he asked
, in that obnoxious voice that left her feeling dirty, especially with his eyes roving over her as they did.

“I want you to take me to the King.”

“You do?” he asked, confused.  Then he scowled.  “I guess money can buy even those who are free without it.”

Emma wasn’t quite sure what he meant.  “Are you saying you will not take me now?”

“I said no such thing,” he said quickly.  “You just disappointed me.  I thought of you as a person to stand up for her convictions.”

“You have judged me from the beginning.  Please stop, you know nothing about me.”

He studied her for a minute, his eyes were different as they looked at her, and she could not help the feeling of devastation with their coldness.  “Yes your highness,” he said with a bow, before he turned and walked toward the hall. 

They were travelling for two days.  At first she was thankful she would not have to stay a night at Helthpool, but traveling with a strange man was awkward, especially when that man was not ashamed to parade about camp without a stitch of clothing on.  He left it to her to avert her eyes, or stare at him, either did not matter to him.  Along with the nudity, was his habit of not even acknowledging her existence, or offering to assist in a normally difficult task for the fairer sex.  She was left saddling and unsaddling her own horse, though she knew nothing of horses.   He made it clear she either rode the horse, or she would be tied to the horse, riding double with him was out of the question.  So she was learning to balance on the horse, as he set a grueling pace. 

His entire demeanor was unwelcoming
, and she was not surprised his friend abandoned him.  She settled into her blankets some time ago, but was unable to sleep.  She heard Roland moving about camp.  He always seemed restless, even in his sleep.

“Would the King try to marry me to someone who is cruel?”
she asked, when he came near the fire. 

“You mean someone like me?”

“I don’t think you’re cruel,” she was quick to defend him for some reason. 

“He’ll marry you to whomever he damn well pleases,” he replied. 

She hesitated on her next question, but it was something that was on her mind, perhaps even a way to money and not the husband.  “What if I’m not a virgin?”

“Are you?” he asked
, so close she nearly shrieked.  She was so intent on her thoughts she did not hear him walk around the fire.

“Yes, but that is easily changed.  Would it make a difference?”

“You’ll still get the husband, it will just be a little less who will be interested.”

“What is so important about being a virgin to a man?”

“There is something good about knowing no other man has been there before you I suppose,” he said, and his voice was closer, he was crouching over her.  She could see his silhouette, just over her shoulder.

“How many virgins have you had?” she asked
, continuing to stare up at the sky and refuse to look at him.

“Only one.  My wife.”

“You’re married?” she was incredulous.  He did not look the married type.

“
She’s dead.”

“
I’m sorry,” she mumbled.  “Would you have married her if she was not?”

“I would have married her if it meant the clouds would fall from the sky and all the rivers in England dried.”  She was more surprised this
man could love than she was about her heritage.  The sadness in his eyes, the restlessness, was because this woman was gone from his life. 

“But all men do not find their wives this way?”

“Very few care for their wives, especially those looking to marry to get their hands on money.  But many, in such a position, can also afford to turn down a not pure woman.  Course with your flaming red hair and big eyes, the men might be frightened away, so if you’re not a virgin, you might just get your money and title, and the King will be glad to be rid of you.”

She heard Roland straighten.  “Roland,” she said quickly
, to stop him.

He took
two steps away, but she heard him stop and turn.  She could imagine the irritation across his cocky face. 

“I came to find you
, because I was thinking, as my father and uncle age, they will not be able to keep living in the woods with little shelter through the cold months.  I thought if I had money, I could give them something, but I don’t want a husband.  Least of all a husband who will treat me badly.” 

She paused and Roland replied, “It’s no concern of mine.”  She could tell he was turning away again
, before he was finished with the words.

“No, I know it is not.”  She swallowed
, and tears threatened to well up in her eyes, because fear of the unknown was choking her.  “I’m a virgin,” she swallowed, then rushed on.  “You are the only man who can change that before I turn my life over to the King.  I would at least like to know my husband chose money, or me, rather than that.” 

“But that is how it is done in the world you are about to find yourself in.”

“I’m afraid.”

His steps carried him back to her
, and his silhouette was standing over her.  “I will hurt you.”

“I’m not going to fall in love with you
, if that is what you are talking about.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he smirked.  “I mean physically
, I will hurt you, more than the average man.  I am large, if you have not noticed.”

Emma swallowed nervously.  She had noticed.  “Regardless, it is what I want.”

His silhouette began moving.  “Take off your clothes.”

Nervously she did
, until she lay nude between her blankets.  She felt her body begin to shake, as he lifted the top blanket from her, and lay down next to her.  He lay on his side, staring at her for a moment.  She did not know what to do, whether to roll toward him, away, or remain as she was.  In the end, she remained where she was.

“How do you want me to do this?”

“There are more ways than one?”

“I can rape you, it will be over quickly.  Or I can try to bring you enjoyment as well
, but that will require some time.”

Emma just wanted the deed completed
, but rape was such a violent thing, but she did not know how she could find enjoyment with this cold man.

“What would you prefer to do?” she asked, thinking perhaps his choice might be best.

He was quiet for a moment.  “Rape,” he said definitively, brusquely.

“Have you ever done such before?”

He grabbed her wrist and pinned it at her side, moving over her, his knee expertly spreading her legs apart.  He did not answer her question, and she worried what that meant.

“Have you ever taken your time to give a woman pleasure?” she quickly asked
, as she felt him pressing himself against her entrance.

“One woman,” he gritted out
, as he tried pushing himself into her. 

Emma forced herself rigid, forcing him back a little.  “I want you to do that.  I don’t want it this way.”

“I can be done in two minutes,” he gritted, trying to spread her legs wider.

“No.  You asked me my choice
, and I have made it.  Are you not a man to honor your word?”

A sound of frustration escaped him
, but he rolled off her, and in the dark she saw him press his arm across his eyes.  She lay rigidly beside him, their breaths mingling in the chill night air.  What had she done?  Why would she ask this man such a thing?  He was obviously not a good man.  Was she truly insane?

“All right,” he finally ground out
, but remained lying on his back.  “I have not been considerate of a woman since my wife.”

“Perhaps I have made a mistake.”

“Perhaps,” he replied, but he remained at her side.  After the silence stretched on to the point of nerve racking,
he finally shifted so he lay on his side, facing her.  He slid himself closer, so he laid the length of her.  Then he was rising and coming closer, and she felt his lips on hers.  They were hard, cold even.  She did not know lips could be cold.  They moved over hers for a moment, before the rigidness left them, and they became soft and pliant.  She felt the tip of his tongue, as he continued to coax her. 

“Part your lips,” he whispered against her lips.  She did so
, and his lips softly stroked over them again, the tip of his tongue caressing the underside of her top lip, as he inhaled sharply.  He was gentle, his body suddenly felt warm.  She felt his hand on her side, lying easily there.  He continued to kiss her lips gently, stroking was the best way she could describe it.  “Relax,” he whispered again, before sucking her upper lip into his mouth, stroking it as he released it with his tongue.  He did the same with her bottom lip, before his tongue entered further, before stroking it back out. 

She felt her body press into his.  His hand used pressure on her side to roll her toward him.  His fingers s
troked up and down her back.  She felt herself melting into him with the continued soft, gentle feel of his lips on hers.  She did not know how long he caressed her in such a way, but she felt an eagerness building in her for something more, something that felt just out of her reach.  Then his hand moved into her hair, and he used gentle pressure to tilt her head back, and his lips were on her neck, then moving down.  When his lips latched onto her nipple she bucked against him, but the hand on her back stroked her gently, settling her. 

He sucked the nipple into his mouth, his tongue softly stroking the tip
, before letting it slide from between his lips. “They are just as perfect as I imagined,” he whispered, before taking it into his mouth again.  Emma’s fingers dug into his hair as he gently built her into a frenzy she did not recognize, could not understand, until he pushed her onto her back and took the other nipple into his mouth.  That was what she wanted, her mind confirmed.  He gave it the same attention as the first, until she felt the frenzy building again.  She began to protest, until his hand cupped the breast his mouth was not suckling, and she moaned.  It escaped her, and she clamped her mouth shut, until his fingers gently tickled across her wet, hard nipple, and she gasped, bucking upward.  His elbow came down to press down on her, his elbow positioned at her groin.  Each time his teeth graze her nipple, she found herself involuntarily rising against his arm, and the frenzy could no longer be appeased.  She wanted, no needed something. 

Then he was slipping a finger into her
, and she cried out in surprise and wonder as her hips rose, demanding more, but his hand was there to keep her pressed to the blanket.  She writhed beneath him as he slid his finger in and out, and she felt moistness building and a pressure, so deep it went all the way to her stomach, and made it flip, and then she felt a release so magnificent she cried out.  Her hands came out to hold his hand to her pelvis, as she rose up against it.  He seemed to read what she needed and he thrust his finger deeper, pressing it as far as he could, the knuckles of his fingers digging into the flesh of her entrance, it only added to the flowing release that left her gasping and limp.