Love Bound (43 page)

She had only to step back a short way
to sit on the bed. Reluctantly she pulled off the left boot, the one that did
not hide the dagger. She was even more reluctant to take off the right. She had
to pull out the dagger first. She did this, slowly, letting him see what she
was doing so that he would not misunderstand.

LeBon’s lip curled when he saw her
remove the weapon. He reached for it, putting his hand on top of hers and
pulling it away from her. He held the weapon up to his face, examining it with
great curiosity.

“How many men have you killed with
this, Templin?” he asked, scraping at a bit of blood on the blade with his
thumbnail.

“A few,” she said quietly. “None that
didn’t deserve it.”

He stuck the dagger into the waist of
his pants. The handle stuck up just above the bony arch of his hip. “But you
didn’t kill me.”

“You were to be my messenger,” she
said. “You were to warn the others.”

“As you can see,” he said coldly,
“I’ve failed in my mission.”

“Then I’ve failed in mine as well,”
she said. “Perhaps a few more stripes, or another brand, would teach you your
lesson.”

He sat very near to her on the bed.
She began to lean against him, welcoming the touch of his body in spite of
herself. Suddenly he snatched the shawl from her shoulders. With one quick
motion he had the shawl wrapped around her neck, loosely, just as a warning. He
caught aquick glimpse of black ink against her tanned skin.

“You forget yourself, Templin,” he
said. “Your crew isn’t here to receive your orders, and you’re in no position
to give me anything other than your obedience. Only one of us will be the
master tonight.”

She gritted her teeth before
remembering her secret. “Yes, Captain,” she said.

“Which of us is the master, Templin?
You or I?”

“You, Captain,” she said through
gritted teeth.

He let the shawl fall to the bed. “Now
take off your dress.”

A faint smile crossed her lips. She
hadn’t been able to get into her new gown without Badhu’s help this afternoon,
and doubted she could get out of it on her own. “I’ll need your help,” she
said.

LeBon stood, taking Raven by the hands
and pulling her to her feet. She kicked over one of her boots, reminding her
that she was barefoot and vulnerable. With a violence that surprised her, he
took hold of the back of her dress and pulled, tearing it, sending the buttons
falling to the floor. The torn remains of the gown slipped from Raven’s
shoulders. She stood in her long slip and corset. With the same violence, he
soon had her out of these, too, naked in the oppressive heat of the chamber.
Sweat collected between her breasts and rolled down her back. She breathed
harder.

Now he could see the whole of the
raven tattoo. Just as in the image on the posters, the wings of the great black
bird stretched across her back, the tips of the wings just touching the curves
of her heavy breasts. The raven rose and fell with her breathe.

“You are afraid,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered, realizing
afterward that it was almost true.

He took her black shawl from the bed
and tore a long strip from it. He placed this over her eyes and tied it behind
her head. The little bit of light from the candles disappeared. She felt him
beside her, breathing in the scent of her expensive perfume. She didn’t care
for it herself. She missed the smell of salt water.

LeBon took Raven’s hand, then her
other hand, pulling them behind her back. He bound her hands tightly with the
shawl. The fabric dug into Raven’s skin. She was glad that it was silk and not
something coarser.

She felt his mouth on her nipple, hot
and wet. His fingers reached over and took hold of her other nipple. At first
he groped gently. Then he began to twist and pinch the nipple. Raven shivered.

The sensation struck her as being
somewhere between pleasure and pain. She didn’t want to protest. Despite her
efforts to bear this feeling quietly, a moan escaped her lips. LeBon responded
by sucking with more urgency, and assaulting the other nipple with even more
force.

Finally his hand fell away from her
breast. She didn’t know what he would do next. Then she felt his fingers on her
leg. He forced her legs apart suddenly, nearly causing her to lose her footing.
She was lucky enough to catch herself before she fell over forward.

Now Raven felt LeBon exploring her
vulva. He touched her, but not with his fingers. It took her a moment to
recognize the shape of the thing moving outside, then inside, the lips of her
vulva. It was the handle of her dagger. After a moment of tentative
exploration, LeBon shoved the handle of the dagger inside her cunt. He withdrew
it just as quickly.

She heard him laugh. “This excites
you, does it not, whore?” he asked. Raven knew that she should not answer.

“You’re wet,” he continued. “Were you
hoping that I would fuck you?”

Again she said nothing.

He took hold of her hair and pulled
back on it. “Answer me,” he said savagely. “Would you have me fuck you,
Templin?”

“I want nothing,” she said. “I’m yours
to do with what you will.”

He caressed her breast tenderly for a
moment. Then he shoved the dagger’s handle into her cunt fiercely. He pulled it
out slightly, only to shove it in with more force, over and over again. Raven
moaned.

LeBon lowered his head to her breasts.
This time, instead of gentle sucking, he gave her his teeth, biting the soft
flesh in between her breasts. LeBon did not know that Raven often asked her
lovers to bite her. Rather than causing her pain and terror, it aroused her.
This, and the friction of the dagger driven in and out of her cunt, brought her
to a climax. Her body shook, and she screamed in pleasure.

LeBon shoved her roughly onto the bed.
Half of her body hung over the edge of the bed, and she struggled to right
herself without the use of her hands. LeBon lifted her and threw her into the
middle of the bed on her belly.

“Did you enjoy that, Templin?” he
asked. “You’ll not be pleased by this.”

She felt the blade of her own dagger
break her skin, felt a small trickle of blood and sweat running down her back.
He was tracing the outline of her raven tattoo with the blade. He didn’t cut
deeply; it hurt no worse than the original application of the tattoo. He must
have imagined that this hurt her. He wasn’t aware that he was making her cunt
wet again. She longed for him to give her the handle of the dagger again, if
not his finger, or better still, his cock.

When he’d traced the entire surface of
the tattoo with her blade, LeBon laughed. “I could have cut deeper, Templin,”
he said. “I could have given you back every ounce of pain that you gave me the
night you branded and flogged me. But you’re just a woman. You couldn’t have
endured that kind of suffering.”

She bit her lip to keep from cursing
him. She needed him as much as he needed to humiliate her.

“Besides, I’m not done with you.”

He rolled her onto her back, pressing
her bleeding flesh into the filthy sheets. She exhaled deeply. The sting was
even worse when he pressed his body in on top of hers.

“I have to be inside you, Templin,” he
whispered.

He reached under her head to untie her
blindfold. He tossed it aside.

She closed her eyes, only to feel the
sharp sting of the back of his hand as he slapped her. “Look at me,” he said.
“Look at my eyes.”

She looked into his eyes, bright blue,
and burning with the hatred she’d seen the night she’d flogged him. No, the
heat in his eyes was far less intense now. It had softened over time into
something else, something that she felt as well. She wouldn’t have called it
respect, exactly. More like mutual understanding. It was the only reason she
hadn’t killed him by now.

It was hard to concentrate on the
pleasure that LeBon’s body was giving hers while Raven was forced to stare into
those intense blue eyes. As he had been with the dagger, LeBon seemed intent on
causing Raven pain. His rough, wild thrusting into her made her happy despite
his intent, and she soon found herself on the verge of another climax.

LeBon, feeling her wildly pounding
heart, sensed that Raven was on the edge. He pulled out of her, leaving her
gasping and unfulfilled. Using his hand, he reached his own climax, spilling
his seed on Raven’s belly.

“I don’t believe you, Templin,” he
said. “If I’d done to my Emily any of the things I’ve done to you tonight, she
would have been in tears, begging for mercy. The more brutally I treat you, the
more pleasure you take. .”

“Have I satisfied you, my captain?”
she asked, only half mocking.

He had to admit that she had. “For the
moment,” he added. “I’ll see you hanged one of these days, Templin.”

“And will you untie me now?”

He did. She immediately collected her
boots and put them back on. “Where is my dagger?”

She found it on the floor, its handle
still soaked in the juices of her cunt. With it back inside its hiding place in
her boot, Raven felt secure once again. She lay back across the filthy,
blood-stained bed. LeBon watched her bring herself to orgasm, then drift off to
sleep. She looked as satisfied as a pup at its mother’s teat.

LeBon shook his head. She was a
mystery to him, vulnerable and yet somehow still unreachable, fearsome and
tender. He wanted to have her again, but knew that it was time for him to
leave.

“Who are you?” he whispered, although
there was no answer that would have satisfied him.

When Raven woke up, alone, the candles
had burned out. In total darkness, she studied the problem of how to get out of
the public house with her dress and undergarments torn to shreds on the floor.
She decided to fashion a new dress out of the filthy sheets. With this done,
she went out into the night to find Badhu and her women.