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He started off kissing her slowly, tenderly, but there was something about her which stirred such passion in him that before he knew it, his kiss became harder and more urgent. Waves of lust washed over him, building up and up until he was burning with lust. Restraint was not the dominant part of Murray’s character, he did not deny himself pleasure, taking whatever he wanted from the world, and he wanted Ilene, very badly.
Slipping her shift down over her shoulders, he growled when he saw her naked body. Her long legs, tight, small waist and her jutting breasts, so high, so ripe, brought forth something strong and savage in his loins.
‘Ilene I’m done with talking, come to bed with me.’ He put his hand under her chin and twisted her head up gently, so that her mouth was available to him, kissing her more passionately as his desire deepened. ‘I need to make you mine,’ he said, leading her over to the high canopied bed.
Ilene obeyed him as if in a daze. She was frozen and could not play her part, but Morag’s words were bitter in her head.‘Make him happy tonight Ilene, that’s all you have to do and he will never know. You must play the willing bride to the hilt and flatter him with your response.’
Naked as the day she entered the world, she lay before him, trying to cover her secret places with her hands. Murray did not seem to notice her reluctance, and the look on his face was one of admiration and pure animal lust. His stormy blue eyes seemed to bore right into her for a moment, and Ilene was sure he would be able to read her thoughts but then he pulled her against him and lay over her a little, kissing her again and again. His rough hand moved gently down her body, cupping her breasts, stroking, gently squeezing them, making her nipples stiffen of their own accord and her breath quicken. Murray’s touch took her back to that day under the oak and it was impossible not to respond to his mouth on hers and the excitement his touch ignited in her.
‘I’ll try not to hurt you, but if I do, tell me, hold fast to me,’ he said, his voice sensual and reassuring all at once. ‘Trust me, Ilene, for I’ll not go too hard tonight and you’ll get used to me, and I to you. God, you are so beautiful to me, more lovely than I could ever have imagined.’
His hard body felt so warm, so strong against hers, and indeed she did have the urge to cling to him, for comfort if nothing else. His kisses were arousing her despite her struggle to cling on to her wits. As his tongue invaded her mouth, demanding a response, she arched her back in delight, her breasts jutting against his smooth broad chest. Boldly, she pushed her hands beneath his shirt to caress his chest.
‘I like that. I like it when you touch me,’ he breathed, with his head against her neck. Murray’s hair smelled like pine smoke and summer and his mouth…oh, it tasted of whisky and sin.
Murray pushed her hand lower and gasped as her fingers found him and curled around the warmth of him. His hands slid over her bare back, down to her bottom and, as his desire grew, he sank his fingers into it and pulled her against him and moaned. He was gentle and considerate, and Ilene found that she did not want him to stop, as his hand’s sought the soft, secret part of her between her legs. As his fingers skimmed lightly over her, she grabbed at his back. Her fears melted away under his confident touch. She could read the joy in his face, the affection and admiration there for her. No one had ever made her feel this beautiful before.
Murray was not clumsy or rushed as he brought her to the point of arousal before proceeding. He opened her legs with a gentle hand and then placed himself at the soft, warm entrance to her body. Despite the fact that she carried an awful secret and, in many ways, barely knew the man taking her on the bed, despite the fact that she knew him to be ruthless and clever, she lost herself in the feelings of hunger which rose up in her. There was a heat and wetness now, at the centre of her. She wanted him to do it, she needed him too. Just one moment of courage and this man would be hers and the fear of the last few weeks would recede.
He felt glorious between her legs and Ilene almost fainted with anticipation, kissing him back hungrily, pushing her fingers into his hair, turned bronze in the firelight.
But her passion was her undoing because when he suddenly went into her, smoothly and gently, she had not readied herself and had no time to think. It was a mistake which would dog her steps for a long time to come.
Caught fast in the heady pleasure of it, she forgot her aunt’s instructions to feign the loss of her maidenhead, to squeal and show pain and shock. Were she not so terribly naïve, she would have realised that it would have made no difference anyway.
Murray moaned and pushed harder into her, in one slow movement, completely filling her. Then he froze.
Ilene lay still, every muscle tense, her heart thudding in her chest.
Murray raised himself onto his elbows and stared hard into her face and at that moment Ilene knew that he would surely see what was there - guilt and fear, terrible fear.
It was a reflex to push him off, and he let her do it and sat back on the bed. His shirt fell down over his manhood, which was still swollen with his desire, but his face was stone, and she could see his chest rising and falling with the storm about to break.
‘You are not a virgin?’
It was a blunt question and it frightened her. Ilene grabbed the blankets, holding them to her chest to hide her nakedness.
‘Murray I ….,’ she could not find her voice.
‘Why do you have no maidenhead for me to take?’ he said quietly, his head turning to one side and his eyes narrowing. Words would not come out as Ilene’s throat tightened and the breath left her.
‘You will answer me, Ilene,’ he commanded.
He knew! He knew her secret, knew she had come unchaste to his bed. It was plain as day on his cold face. She felt sick.
‘Answer me,’ he snarled, through gritted teeth.
In the face of his cold anger, what could she do, but blurt out the truth?
‘I thought he loved me,’ she cried, shaking her head. ‘He said we were to be married and I believed him. He said he would go to my father that very next day and ask for my hand. We only did it once, that one time. I did not mean to. I thought he loved me.’
The tears came as she relived her shame and betrayal. The words came out in a rush, and she was, in some ways, relieved to have expelled them, but if she expected any understanding those hopes were instantly dashed as Murray’s face changed from bewilderment to comprehension to cold rage. Rage so evident, that she stumbled back as he lunged at her.
Murray put his hands on either side of her face, the pads of his thumbs pressing on her throat, hands that could crush her in an instant, should he choose. His eyes were blazing with anger as he spat the words at her, shaking her as he spoke.
‘You didn’t. You couldn’t. Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me you didn’t lie with that black worm.’
She had not said Aidan’s name, but he knew. ‘I can’t Murray. I’m sorry. Forgive me.’ It was hard to speak and her voice came out as a squeak.
