Page 30 of Dorchad

“I don’t want children.” She might be twisted, but she wasn’t ashamed of what she desired. “I’m not afraid of your secrets, Chieftain. They’re part of you, and I want you. Please, let me be yours.”

Dorchad looked at her in silence for so long Rebecca sensed he’d reached the same point as she had when he’d spanked her. His hands fisted at his sides, and every muscle in his body appeared coiled tight. He had to decide, and another word from her might be too much. Remaining where she was took every ounce of self-control she had, but it also made her body throb with excitement and longing.

“Your tears make me drunk,” Dorchad finally said, the words coming from him as if wrenched. “Seeing your pretty arse turn pink under my hand quelled my anger, and poured hot blood into my cock. That, ’tis what I want, to put myself inside you, and pleasure you, and spill my cream in your body as much as I wish. Only I cannae give you gentleness nor kindness, Rebecca. I may only use you as I wish. You’d be my bed wench, naught more.”

He was trying to scare her away again, and she loved him for it. “Yes, please.”

Dorchad drew his dagger, and then reached for her to pull her to her feet. Rebecca’s nerves calmed, for she knew he wouldn’t use the weapon to hurt her. He walked behind her, his breath warm on her neck as he grasped her shoulder and used his blade to slowly slice through the laces of her gown. The blade didn’t touch her back, but as he pulled down the bodice to bare her to the waist he put his mouth to her shoulder, dragging his teeth over her skin.

I can’t bear it, she thought, entirely enthralled now.

He set down the dagger and ripped her sash open with a rough jerk, dragging down her skirts until she stood naked in a puddle of shredded cloth. Once she’d stepped out of her slippers he straightened and walked around her again, inspecting every inch of her body before he faced her and took hold of her arms.

“In my chamber you shall ever and always serve me naked,” Dorchad murmured against her ear before he lifted her out of the ruins of her gown, and plastered her against his broad chest. “The moment the door closes, you shall disrobe. You’ve the right to refuse me anything, but you must leave me then. Agree, or go and never offer yourself to me again.”

“Yes, I agree.” She pressed her hot face against his strong neck.

“I’m no’ convinced. Say ‘Aye, my lord,’” he corrected with an icy whisper.

“Aye, my lord.” Rebecca gasped as he suddenly tossed her onto his bed. She propped herself up on her elbows as he pulled off his shirt.

Dorchad kept undressing, and when he stood there naked she couldn’t even blink. Unlike her own body, his appeared magnificent and flawless. His pale skin seemed to take on a faint golden glow from the firelight, which played over his sleek muscles and long limbs as if painting him with light. For a moment Rebecca’s excitement dimmed, for she knew her own body could never compare to the beauty of his.

The chieftain came over and sat down beside her, catching her right knee with his hand and pressing his thumb against one of her scars.

His voice went cold again as he asked, “Who did thus to you?”

“No one. It was an accident.” As he looked over all the other marks on her legs she told him about the car wreck that had killed her parents and crippled her. “My knees and back were badly injured. I spent a long time getting better, but I’ll always have the scars.”

“Turn over.” When she did he stroked his big hand over the reddened cheeks of her buttocks gently, as if admiring his work, and then moved his hand over the surgical scars along her spine. “Never shall I make you bleed, even if you beg me to. I give you my word.”

Rebecca shivered, racked by anticipation laced with a strange tenderness. His promise meant everything to her, but so did knowing his limits. “Thank you, my lord.”

Her arousal had already made her practically gush with wetness, which he discovered as he slipped his hand between her thighs.

“Your quim weeps for my cock.” He came up over her, turning her over and using his weight to pin her body to the ticking. His hands stretched her wrists above her head. “Hold still.”

The hard, heavy reality of his big, tough body on top of hers made it hard to hold still, but she tried. In the books she’d read the submissive’s role was to do exactly what they were told by the dominant. He didn’t have the same terms and notions as existed in her time, but it was obvious that’s what he wanted from her. Just the smell of him made her want to surrender to the building waves of delight inside her, but she had to show him she could wait for her pleasure.

He grunted and wedged his knees between her legs to separate them. “Beg me again, bed wench.”

“Please, my lord.” She arched her hips as he pushed his between her thighs, wishing she could touch him but so turned on she thought she might climax the moment his cockhead parted her folds. “Please help me.”

Dorchad’s features darkened, and he pressed a finger to her lips. “No more words. Look at me, aye, like so.”

The chieftain lowered his head, skimming his mouth over her brow and down the side of her face. He stopped just beside the corner of her lips as if hesitating, and she nearly turned her head and kissed him.

“Dinnae move,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath kissing her skin.

He took something— a tie back from the bed curtains?—and used it to bind her wrists. He stared into her eyes the entire time he did, a faint smile curling his mouth on one side. Once he finished he shifted down, his mouth gliding along the side of her throat and then over her breast, where he paused again and slowly licked the tight pucker of her nipple.

She had never been in more danger of climaxing in her life, and yet somehow she knew if she did he would punish her.

Rebecca trembled with the effort of holding still now, her face flushing and sweat beading at her temples and in the hollow of her throat. Dorchad lifted his head to look at her, his eyes impossibly dark, his hands sliding up to grip her breasts and thumb her tight peaks.

“You’re an impatient, greedy wench,” he told her as he slowly fondled her. “You say you wish serve me, and yet you desire your pleasure before satisfying mine.”

“No, my lord,” Rebecca said, her voice rasping over the words. “I’d never do that.”