Connie Mason (11 page)

Marshaling her strength, she pummeled his back when he swept her from her feet and carried her to her marriage bed, pinning her down with his hard body. He splayed his fingers through her hair, tilting her chin up with his thumbs as he blazed a path down her throat to her breasts, where he tongued a pert nipple through the material of her shift. His hands kneaded her breasts. Raven hissed a protest as he tore her shift from neck to hem and tossed it aside. Then his hands were on her bare skin, and though she fought against it, Raven felt a melting deep inside her. When he shoved her legs apart and settled between them, her senses returned and she fought desperately to dislodge him.

“Drake! Desist! You are drunk. You do not really want to do this.”

“You are wrong, my lady. ’Tis precisely what I want.”

She gazed into his determined eyes and knew she had lost. His rigid arousal rode against her, impressing her with the solid proof of his need. He was all heat and shocking hardness. She hissed out a breath when he grasped her hand
and dragged it between them, curling it around his jutting manhood.

“Think you I do not want you? This is how much.”

Raven’s fingers closed reflexively around his staff. It pulsed with a life of its own, steel encased in silk. He was so big. Strength and virility throbbed within the palm of her hand as he let out a rasping cry. Would he hurt her? she wondered. She decided he would not, not as badly as Waldo, anyway. Frightened by the direction of her thoughts, she jerked her hand away.

Then his mouth closed over hers again, hungry, demanding a response, and receiving it despite Raven’s reluctance to be drawn into his seduction. He kissed her until she thought she would swoon, until he had wrung a response from her. Apparently encouraged, he deepened his kiss. She sighed into his mouth when his fingertips teased the insides of her thighs. Then she felt an entirely new sensation as he slipped a thick finger inside her. Raven thought she felt him shudder but realized it was her own reaction she felt.

She moaned when his thumb slid over her, finding a sensitive spot he had stirred into aching need. He continued to kiss her as his stroking stoked the fire smoldering within her to a blazing inferno. She could not think, though somewhere in a remote corner of her brain she realized she should be fighting harder to resist. But all she could feel was liquid pleasure flowing through her . . . gathering and intensifying.

Despite the wickedness of the moment, Raven was experiencing passion for the first time in her life and reveling in it. Had she truly cared for her husband, she would have fought Drake tooth and nail, but she despised Waldo. She did not ponder the consequences, nor did she consider the severity of Waldo’s punishment when he learned what had happened in her marriage bed tonight. Her senses exploded with the scent and taste of the man who was doing wickedly wonderful things to her.

With Drake’s talented fingers arousing her and his kisses stealing her mind, Waldo no longer existed. This time she needed no coaxing as she reached between them and closed her fingers around his erection, stroking him to throbbing hardness.

“God’s blood!” His rasping cry sounded as though it had been torn from the deepest part of him. “You try me sorely, lady.” His eyes darkened to pools of molten silver. “Do you want me, Raven?”

“ ’Tis not right,” Raven replied after a lengthy pause. “We will both go to hell for this night’s madness. But I cannot lie, Drake of Windhurst; I do want you. May God forgive me.”

“You need no forgiveness,” Drake said almost angrily. “You are blameless. An innocent, too inexperienced to stop me. Tell that to Waldo if he questions your lack of virginity.”

Raven knew Waldo would react violently when he learned he had been cheated of her maidenhead, but she was too far gone with passion to think that far ahead. Later, after experiencing the pleasure Drake offered, she could hate him for dishonoring her. Naught mattered now, however, but experiencing more of the arousing things he was doing to her. She knew intuitively that bedding Waldo would give her no pleasure, and she desperately wanted to experience pleasure with Drake, if only for this one time.

Her thoughts slid to an abrupt halt when Drake touched her again between her legs. “You are wet and ready for me, sweeting.” Then he slid his hands beneath her naked buttocks and positioned her for his entry. She felt him, smooth as velvet, hard and hot, pressing against her entrance. She sucked in a shaky breath and waited for the pain.

“Relax,” Drake whispered against her ear. “ ’Twas never my intent to hurt you. There will be pain, but I will make it as easy for you as I know how.”

Then he was inside her, stretching and filling her with his hardness. It hurt more than she had expected, and she cried
out. Sensing her distress, he pulled almost out of her, then drove in again, tearing through her maidenhead in one clean thrust. Raven felt the sharp, rending pain and gave a muted shriek. Embedded deeply inside her now, Drake suddenly went still.

“I will not move until you tell me to,” he rasped harshly. He raised his body up on his elbows and stared down at her. “I know it must feel strange to be totally possessed by a man.”

She whimpered and suddenly Drake was stone-cold sober. Raven’s cry of pain had instantly sobered him. Unfortunately it was too late to undo what had already been done.
God’s blood!
He must have been mad to come here like this. As much as he hated Waldo, he would have never attempted so dishonorable a deed had he not been drunk.

“You are so big.” Raven gasped as she moved experimentally beneath him. “The pain is not so bad now.”

Drake’s thoughts centered on the innocent woman beneath him. He had stolen her maidenhead and now he owed her something in return. Since he could not return her torn membrane, he felt compelled to give her pleasure.

He moved inside her slowly, deliberately, piercing her deeply, again and again, creating a rhythm that Raven was quick to imitate. She rose up to meet his thrusts, inviting him to thrust deeper, harder, faster. He was quick to comply, pounding into her as she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding his head and offering her lips.

Her blood heated and thickened as he kissed her lips, her throat, her breasts. She writhed mindlessly against him, offering more of herself as he sucked and licked her nipples. She heard him groaning and the sound sparked a responsive chord within her. She grasped at something just beyond her reach but had no idea what it was.

“You are nearly there,” Drake rasped huskily. “I will not leave you, sweeting. Come. Come with me.”

Raven started to ask where he wanted her to go when
something inside her broke loose. Suddenly she was awash in pleasure, spinning in a whirlpool of pure sensation. Instinctively her legs came around him, drawing him deeper into her center, each pounding thrust sending wave after wave of unspeakable delight coursing through her. She was still lost in the throes of ecstasy when he threw back his head, squeezed his eyes shut, bared his teeth in a feral growl, and released his seed. She felt the hot splash bathing her womb and let the pleasure of the moment carry her to oblivion.

An eon later she opened her eyes and saw Drake braced on his elbows, staring down at her with a strange look on his face. She pushed against him in an attempt to dislodge him. She heard him sigh as he pulled out of her body and moved away.

“I should not have done that,” he said. Raven stared at him, appalled by his sudden flash of conscience. “I was drunk,” he offered lamely. “All I can say in my defense is that Waldo provoked me.” He grinned at her. “I cannot say I did not enjoy making love to you, Raven of Chirk.”

Raven wanted to smack him, and would have if an insistent rapping upon her chamber door had not startled her.

“Drake. ’Tis time to leave. Waldo is stirring.”

“ ’Tis Sir John,” Drake explained as he rose from the bed and hastily donned the clothing he had recently discarded.

“Be at ease, John; I am coming,” he called through the door.

“Hurry, Drake,” John urged. “I will meet you in the stables.”

Drake turned back for one last look at Raven and felt an inexplicable stirring deep inside him. She lay supine amid the rumpled disorder of her marriage bed, a wanton creature with swollen lips and passion-glazed eyes. She looked as though she had been well loved and thoroughly sated. She also looked angry.

“Go!” she said angrily. “Waldo will kill you should he find you in my chamber.”

“Will you care?” Drake asked.

“Nay! I hate you, Drake of Windhurst. Almost as much as I hate Waldo. You took away my innocence because of some deep-seated hatred for your brother.”

“I took naught from you, my lady. Deny it all you want, Raven of Chirk, but you wanted me. You gave willingly. ’Tis Waldo I cheated, not you.”

“The devil take you, Drake!” Raven cursed. “You are well named, Black Knight, for your heart is as black as your trappings.”

Drake offered no defense as he slipped out the door and closed it softly behind him.

A knight protects those weaker than himself
.

Raven rose unsteadily from the bed, wadded up the torn shift stained with the proof of her virginity, and kicked it beneath the bed. Her thoughts were in a turmoil as she struck a flame to the candle and poured water from the pitcher into a bowl. Despite everything that had happened, she still had the presence of mind to wash all traces of Drake’s seed and her own blood from her thighs.

Her body still throbbed from Drake’s loving, and despite her inclination to hate him for what he had done to her, she could not. Instinctively she knew Waldo would not have been as gentle with her as Drake had been. Waldo would have ripped into her, appeased his own lust, then chided her for complaining about his roughness.

Raven finished her ablutions and tossed the water and soiled washcloth out the window. Then she donned a clean shift and perched on the edge of the bed to think. Waldo would appear soon to consummate their marriage vows; he would expect to find a virgin. When he found no maidenhead, she feared he would kill her. It was not unheard-of for a husband to kill his wife for her lack of innocence. Dimly she wondered if he would be too drunk to realize her lack, then laughed at her own foolishness. Of course he would know.

That thought brought another. Had Drake been too drunk to consider the aftermath of his dastardly deed? Did he care that she would bear the brunt of Waldo’s anger? Apparently not, for he had left with scant regard for her welfare. She had to rely upon herself now, decide her future.
One thing was becoming increasingly clear: she could not, would not, let Waldo touch her. Not after Drake had shown her how pleasurable making love could be. Somehow she had to find a way to prevent Waldo from exercising his rights.

Raven’s thoughts fled when she heard shuffling footsteps outside her door. Panic-stricken, she leaped to her feet just as the door opened and Waldo lurched inside. His gait was unsteady as he stumbled forward, his bleary gaze fixed upon her.

“Why are you not naked?” he roared. “Remove your shift and get into bed.”

Raven stood her ground. “Nay.”

Waldo’s mouth dropped open. “You dare to say me nay?” he roared. Though his eyes were unfocused, his face was set in determined lines despite his obvious state of inebriation “Do you deny my right to bed you?”

Raven’s chin lifted. She had considered every possible course of action and had finally reached a decision scant seconds before Waldo burst into her chamber. She knew her life was at stake, but it would be worth it to gain freedom from Waldo.

“I do not want you in my bed, Waldo of Eyre.”

His expression was almost comical. “You dare to defy me?”

“Aye. I dare anything to keep you away from me.”

“Bitch!” he said with a snarl. “I will not be denied your maidenhead. I have waited too long for that pleasure. I married another when it was you I wanted. Your spirit, your fire, you are everything I have ever desired, not that pale sister of yours.”

Raven braced herself against the bedpost, gathering courage. She had no idea how Waldo would react once she told him she was no longer a virgin, but he would find out ere this
night was over. Taking a deep breath, she said, “You cannot take my innocence, my lord, for I no longer possess it. ’Twas freely given to another.”

Raven watched in horror as Waldo’s face turned from furious white to fiery red. Raven feared her rash tongue had been her undoing.

“Nay! You lie. Not even you would dare such defiance.”

“ ’Tis true, I tell you. Send for the midwife; she will confirm my lack of virginity.”

He stalked her relentlessly, until she was backed up against the bed. She maneuvered around him but he followed, his face now a stickly shade of green.

His thundering voice was loud enough to awaken the dead. “With whom have you cuckolded me? I will have his name, wife. The bastard will die before the hour is out.”

“You do not know him,” Raven hedged.

No matter what, Drake’s name would never leave her lips. As a child she had loved Drake. As a woman she still felt stirrings of long-suppressed emotion for him.
Before the cock crows
, Raven vowed,
Drake will discover that no one takes advantage of Raven of Chirk and gets away with it. Not even the illustrious Black Knight, the bravest of the brave
. Whether he liked it or not, she intended to confront Drake and demand that he make amends for what he had done to her.