M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga (8 page)

“Perhaps if you closed your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere else, it wouldn’t bother you as much.” Her eyes closed. “Picture yourself floating in a little pond. I am just a little fish swimming around your legs.”

Almost immediately, he sensed change. Her muscles relaxed followed by a quickening of her br
eath. She clutched the hand emerging from under her bent leg. Her hips lifted and began moving in the same rhythm he had set. She was on the brink.

From the first, he’d been tantalized by her passion but her response heightened his appetite. He could wait no longer. Releasing her hand, he kissed his way up to her mouth.

Her fingers explored the play of his muscles in his shoulders and back. There was a sense of letdown at his withdrawal which was replaced by conflicting emotions as she felt his turgid member pressing into her.

A moment later came the unexpectedly painful thrust. Her hands turned into talons, her nails dug into the flesh of his back, her spine stiffened, involuntarily arching and throwing her head back with a gasp. As the pain began to dissipate her muscles slowly eased and she removed her embedded nails from his flesh.

Blake stared down at her wide-eyed. His expression was one of dismay, possibly anger.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to claw you like that.”

“Don’t move,” he said tightly, his hands at her hips holding her motionless. His breath was ragged. As quickly as he’d entered her, he pulled out. His head on her shoulder as he fought to regain control.

When he neither moved nor spoke Meredith tentatively asked, “Is-is that it?”

He shook his head. Dear God, did he feel what he thought he felt? Had he just ripped through her hymen? “I wasn’t expecting that.”  If she had told him she’d never gone all the way before he would have been gentler, used his fingers to stretch her muscles a little, make sure she was ready for him. Truthfully, he’d never been with a virgin before and if they were all so tight, it was no wonder virginity was so prized.

What was he thinking? If he had known she was an innocent he would not be in this bed with her. 

“If I stayed in, I would have shamed myself like some callow schoolboy.”

“Stopping now won’t restore my maidenhead.”

Her words confirmed his suspicions. Hearing the edge in her tone, he realized she had misunderstood his meaning. Lifting his head, he placed a gentle kiss upon her mouth. “I have no intention of stopping now, my treasure.”

Slowly, he eased himself back into her surprising him all over again at how snug she was. His hips began moving in a slow, gentle, fluid motion and by instinct her hips began rotating, matching his movement. “Am I causing you pain?”

She shook her head as her eyes closed and a low moan of pleasure escaped her lips. The bedsprings balked
quietly in protest. Neither one noticed. They were only aware of his body moving against hers, his hips rolling in long strokes, the sensation of him inside her filling her and withdrawing. Their bodies were giving and taking with each movement, building until the sweet engulfing ecstasy filled them leaving them laying in each other’s arms contented and spent.

5

Blake laid flat on his back, his arm around the woman’s stiff form. Her head rested on his shoulder, her hand on his chest but she had not moved or spoken from the moment they assumed that position. She had not even made eye contact with him since they made love. Her eyes were closed now, had been for at least half an hour but she was not asleep.

As he stroked her soft hair, he felt her stiffen further, if possible. When he tried to speak, she had feigned sleep and didn’t reply. Her reaction completely puzzled him. He wondered if she felt embarrassed by her unrestrained response to their lovemaking. That was unlikely. She was probably angry with him for not proposing the second he took her virginity. He told her beforehand not to expect any declaration. She entered the bedroom with her eyes wide open and had no one to blame if regrets plagued her.

If he had been another man, he’d probably propose to the little baggage – not because he loved her or because he ruined her but because he wanted her for his bed but Blake swore he’d never let another treacherous female get close enough to hurt him again.

Of course, he could always ask her to be his mistress. A woman of her talent could demand any price for her services. A house, carriages, horses, jewels, fine clothing could all be hers if she was greedy enough to demand them. And she would be worth every penny. It wouldn’t take long before this simple country girl knew the power she possessed.

His conscience niggled at him. She was awfully young to make a decision that would turn her into a social
pariah for the rest of her life – like his mother. No, he’d be better off leaving her to become some farmer’s slightly tarnished wife. Her lack of virginity could easily be overlooked considering the knowledge and passion she brought to the bedroom.

Over and over his mind kept returning to idea of turning her into his mistress. He wanted her in a way he’d never wanted a woman.

Blake gave himself a mental shake. One doesn’t just take a girl’s virginity and set her up in a house. He either marries her or leaves her for someone else to marry.

When Blake’s breathing finally became heavy with sleep, Meredith climbed out of bed and washed up at the basin. She felt restless and rather than getting back into bed, she found herself mindlessly picking up their clothes. She held his shirt against her face feeling the richness of the fabric against her cheek. It bore a spicy male scent about it Meredith knew she would never forget and never smell without remembering this night. After glancing at the man sleeping in her bed, she slipped his shirt on and buttoned it. The material was cool and soft on her skin – more expensive than anything she’d worn before. Meredith neatly smoothed the folds of his wrinkled, discarded clothing placing them on a chair near the bedroom door.

When there was nothing left to do, she opened the door and eased into the other room. The fire had burned down to glowing embers she noticed as she passed through and stepped outside to breathe the cool night air. She stood in the shadows of the porch gazing out into the darkness at the soulful moon and the tiny specks of light in the sky.

Her eyes welled up with tears and a lump rose in her throat. She didn’t know if she was happy or sad. What a wondrous experience. She felt so close to him while they made love, so special – as if for once in her life she belonged.

But reality closed in on her with unerring clarity. What could she have possibly been thinking? Did she really think she could just make love with the man and not have her emotions get involved? Criminy, he was leaving the next day and had made it clear he had no interest in staying or continuing a relationship. Was making love again the best she could hope for before he returned home?

A faint smile touched her lips as she brushed the wetness from her face. It had been so different from what she expected. She had seen many animals on the farm coupling and had watched with curious repulsion. She thought it would be like that between people, too. How could she have been so wrong, so ignorant, so blind? Part of her wanted him to ask her to leave with him. Not that she would go. But wouldn’t it be nice to think back to the night with the stranger and to know she had changed his mind about leaving alone. She could be happy for years on that memory.

As a gossamer cloud passed in front of the moon, she reentered the house, threw the wooden bolt to lock the door and returned to the bedside to gaze at Blake’s lean physique. Even at rest
, his wiry body looked powerful, the way she imagined a sleeping mountain lion’s body might – as if he could spring up and pounce upon an unsuspecting rabbit as it passed. Musing over the comparison between the lithe cat and Blake, she reached out and lightly touched his chest.

Suddenly, with an unseen motion, he grabbed her wrist painfully. She gasped, startled and by reflex, jumped back, tugging at his grasp.

“Meredith?” he rasped sleepily, loosening his grip slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep,” she stammered.

“Well, come back to bed so I can.” He tugged on her arm, catching her off-balance and easily pulled her into bed. He made no move to release her wrist until she was ensconced in his arms, curled up against his chest and her hand lightly upon his shoulder.

“You put on your nightgown?”

“It’s your shirt.”

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “Don’t get too attached to it.”

But Meredith heard only his unspoken words. Don’t become too attached to him. “I thought it was my dress when I picked it up,” she lied. “I intended to remove it before I came back to bed but I didn’t get the chance.”

“My apologies,” he said in a bantering tone. His
hands moved to the shirt’s buttons.  In seconds, it was laid open to his feathery touch. A moment later it was on the floor.

“I-I don’t understand. Were you a bride by proxy?”

“I’m not married.”

“But you said….”

“I never said I was married. You just assumed it and I thought it offered me a certain protection so I didn’t correct you until you kissed me.”

“You didn’t correct me,” he said tightly.

“I said, ‘What husband?’”

Blake nearly laughed out loud. No woman had ever spoken those words to him and truly meant it.
Until now.

“This doesn’t change anything. I’m not going to
marry you. I may not have realized you were chaste when I told you I wasn’t going to take you away from here but you did and you understood that I was making no promises.”

Meredith thought she might cry that he thought so little of her. “I’m not trying to trick you. You were quite clear. Why do you have to ruin this by acting as if my maidenhead was a curse instead of a gift?”

“A gift,” he muttered kissing her head. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand why you would give yourself to
me
. I’m a stranger. I’ll be gone as soon as I’ve taken care of my business.”

“I-I wanted to.”

How could she explain that there were no prospects for her here? No young man would ever show interest in her after the scandal had turned the whole community against her. She harbored hope when the area began to settle but when she realized her Scandinavian neighbors were being told of what happened when she was fourteen; she found herself intentionally living up to the wild-child mold they cast her in.

She didn’t want to live her life not knowing what the marital act was like and if she had to marry someone who settled for her because of the scarcity of women here, she wanted to have the memory of being with a man who did want her.

“I’m not in the habit of taking anyone’s innocence. I’m a bit rattled by it,” he admitted. “I probably wouldn’t have even stayed for dinner if I’d realized.”

“I feel like I should be apologizing but I don’t know for what.”

He sighed and stroked her hair following its length until it ended and he found his hand on the bare skin of her lower back.

“I wish I had a gift of equal value to give you – a way to lighten your load around here. It must be difficult to run this farm by yourself.”

Meredith chuckled. “I don’t run the farm by myself. My parents are just out of town.”

Blake’s whole body suddenly tensed.

“Meredith, what’s your last name?” he asked trying to sound casual.

“Vande Linde. Why?”

“Oh, dear God," he cursed before he could stop himself. “Meredith, I want you to put on your nightgown and wrapper and let’s go back in the other room.”

She slid her arm around his side and held on tightly. “But you’re so comfortable, I don’t want to
move.”

He pulled her hand away and began moving to sit up. “You don’t want to hear what I have to say naked in bed with me. Get up and put some clothes on.”

The gentle yet firm tone of his voice sent a chill down her spine as the sudden realization hit her that he had come to New London to speak with her.

She scrambled out of bed quickly and pulled her nightgown over her head. By the time she stepped into the other room, tears
brimmed her eyes. Blake used his belt to secure his pasnt as best as he could with the buttons strewn across the floor, leaving his shirttail out to hide the gaping fly.

“How?”

“Renegades,” he said taking her upper arm and gently guiding her into a chair. He crouched down in front of her. “We think they must have wanted the horses and your father pulled his shotgun on them. I am so sorry, Meredith. I am so sorry about everything. I had no idea you were their daughter. Criminy! The trapper who identified them told the lieutenant the last time he saw them, your mother was large with a second child. He thought you were around sixteen or seventeen now. Oh Lord, how old are you?”

Tears flowed freely down her face. “I’m twenty,” she managed to vocalize with a giant lump in her throat. “She lost the baby.” Her mother lost all of her babies except Meredith.