Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
45
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Danielle blinked. “What has Owen got to do with—?”
“You were flirting with him!”
“I most certainly was not!” she said, affronted that he’d dare accuse her of such a thing.
“Aye you were! You were flirting while I was away killing rogues. You gave him some orange cake and you had him bring Cyn back a piece. You didn’t even ask me if I wanted any and it—”
“Made you so danged jealous you came storming over to the house demanding I give you cake,” she finished for him. “The whole town saw you on my porch yelling about cake.”
He sniffed. “Well, I like cake,” he defended his actions.
“And pies and tarts and popovers and candy and anything else with cups of sugar in it,” she said with a sigh. “You Reapers will eat most anything.”
“Except grits,” Arawn stated emphatically. “And boiled peanuts.”
“I know one Reaper who loves grits,” she countered.
“Aingeal doesn’t count,” Arawn told her. “She liked grits before she became one of us.”
They didn’t say anything for a moment then Arawn lowered his head. “I couldn’t live without you, Danni,” he said. “I could exist, but I couldn’t ever live again without you at my side.” He looked at her. “I will never rue the day I came looking for that cake. It was the sweetest thing in the world to me then and it is even sweeter now.”
Danielle moaned as he pulled her against him. Her arms went around his waist and she pressed her cheek to his brawny chest.
“Don’t ever say us being together wasn’t meant to be, wench,” he said. “I’ll tear any man or any thing apart who says otherwise and the gods help any fool stupid enough to try to keep me from you.” He narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. “And if you ever dare say such a thing again, I’ll turn you over my knee and let you feel the weight and heat of my palm on your bare ass!”
“You will, will you?” she challenged, the tears gone from her eyes to be replaced with a wicked glint.
Arawn dropped his hand to her thigh and began dragging her skirt up her leg until he could slide his hand around to the soft flesh at the crease between her buttock and thigh. “Aye, wench, and I’d enjoy every slap on this delicious little rump.” He cupped her, insinuating his fingers under the edge of her panties to knead the satiny skin of her ass. “But I bet can think of something far better to do.”
“Can you?” she said.
“Aye,” he said, lowering his head to nuzzle her neck. He kissed his way up to her earlobe then drew that succulent flesh between his teeth, breathing in her ear as he pulled her bottom tighter to his lower body. “I can think of a lot of other things to do.”
46
Prime Reaper
Danielle shivered as he thrust the tip of his tongue into her ear. “But, milord!” she said in a high-pitched voice. “I am an innocent girl. Please do not compromise me!”
Arawn jerked back, releasing her, his eyebrows slashing like sabers above his nose.
“Beg pardon?” he practically squeaked.
His wife put the back of her hand to her forehead as though she might swoon. “I am a naïve country girl in the big city for the first time. Pray do not molest me,” she stated, her eyes closed.
The Prime Reaper stared at his lady as though she’d lost her mind, but when she opened her eyes and batted her eyelashes at him like a coquette, a devilish grin started to tug at his chiseled lips.
“A naïve country girl, eh?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting. He folded his arms over his chest and joined in her play. “And have you come to bail your reckless brother out of my jail?”
“Aye,
mo tiarna
,” she breathed. “May I visit with him to assure myself he is well?”
Arawn Gehdrin had never known such a woman as the beauty facing him. She was as mercurial as that shiny element and just as slippery. One moment she had been wide-eyed with fear he’d turn her into a Reaper and that a parasite had somehow found its way inside her, and the next she was flirting outrageously with him, playacting with an ease that set his juices to flowing like molten lava and brought instant joy to his jaded heart.
“Wench, you must know I will demand payment before I allow you in to see the fool,” he replied, enjoying himself more than he could ever have imagined. Clutching her hands to her chest, Danielle gave him a beseeching look. “Pray you will not make me do something immoral to help my poor, addlebrained brother.”
“Well now, that depends,” he said, turning his back to look out the window again. He had to force his lips to be still as she came timidly up to him, placing a light hand to his shoulder.
“What must I do to ensure my kin’s comfort,
mo tiarna
?” she asked in a voice he could swear was trembling.
A careless shrug was his only answer and as she slipped slowly, hesitantly around him to stand in front of him, he lowered his eyes to her lovely face, locking gazes, yet he kept his arms folded over his chest.
“Please,
mo tiarna
. What will you have me do?”
“Tell me what you can do, wench,” he said in a husky voice. “To what lengths will you go to aid your brother?”
Danielle bit her lip before putting her hand to the center of his chest. “I would do anything for Elbert,” she said.
Arawn caught himself before he laughed. If she’d had to invent a brother, why couldn’t she have given the man a decent name? As it was, his face scrunched up in an effort to keep from laughing. “I hope Elbert is worth it, milady,” he managed to say. 47
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
She wrapped her fingers around his black leather tie and tugged on the knot, loosening it. “He is a wonderful man and his poor wife and nine children miss him greatly.”
“Nine?” Arawn asked, thinking old Elbert had been a busy beaver—or rather his wife had.
“With one on the way,” she said, sliding the tie from his neck.
“Yet he’s been in my jail for well over a year?” he countered.
“Ah well, there was that one conjugal visit you allowed him,” she was quick to point out.
“Oh aye,” he said, the right side of his mouth quirking upward. She was a fast thinker on her feet, his lady. “I’d forgotten about that visit.”
She put her hands to the button that kept his shirt close to his chin and flicked it open. “It was most gracious of you to allow them that time together,
mo tiarna
,” she said, and worked loose the second button. “I am grateful to you.”
Arawn unfolded his arms and let them hang at his sides as she unbuttoned his shirt all the way down to the waistband of his leather uniform pants. As she gently tugged the shirt hem out of his pants, he felt his pulse quickening.
“I can be a very accommodating man given the right encouragement, wench,” he said, aching to grab her and toss her to the bed a few feet away. Danielle reached for his left arm and unbuttoned his cuff. “And I know you would never take advantage of a poor lass who has only good on her mind.”
“You think not?” he queried as she took his right wrist and unbuttoned the other cuff.
“Would you make me an unchaste woman, sir?” Her hands were on the sides of his shirt and she was peeling it from his shoulders.
“You are a virgin, wench?” he asked, and could feel the blood pounding in his temple.
“Aye,
mo tiarna
. I am,” she said, batting those ridiculously long eyelashes at him again.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to be gentle with you when the time comes,” he growled. Forcing her eyes wide, Danielle clenched her fingers together at her chin. “Oh
mo
tiarna
, you would not dishonor me, would you?”
“Nay, but I will deflower you, wench,” he told her.
“Oh no!” she shrieked, and started to flee but he caught her arm and pulled her tight to his naked chest, his index finger crooked under her chin to lift her face to his, his arm snaked around her back to hold her still.
“You are mine to do with as I please, milady,” he said. “You knew that the moment you came to my lair. There is no escape for you.”
“But I am an innocent!” she protested, beating her fists lightly against his chest. 48
Prime Reaper
“You won’t be when I’ve had my way with you,” he stated, and bent his head to slant his mouth across hers.
Danielle’s fingers arched against the wiry curls covering his chest. Her husband’s tongue was dueling with hers, slipping in and out with such heat she could feel her knees weakening. It was all she could do to pull her lips from his.
“
Mo tiarna
!” she protested. “’Tis unseemly what you do!”
Arawn bent her backward in his arms until he was glaring down into her sweet face. “Either pay up, wench, or tomorrow will see Egbert—”
“Elbert,” she corrected.
“Aye, Elbert,” he mumbled, “swinging from the gallows.”
“No,
mo tiarna
, no!” she said.
“Then give me my due,” he said, and released her. “I’ve other wenches waiting to pay my fee.”
Danielle staggered, flashing him a warning look as he returned to his stony stance of arms folded over his chest, his legs spread wide.
“You drive a hard bargain,
mo tiarna
,” she said, lifting her chin.
“How would you know? I’ve yet to drive my bargain hard into you, wench,” he said with a cocked eyebrow.
Rolling her eyes at his play on her words, she sidled up to him and put her hands on his belt buckle. The silver heron insignia sent a chill down her but she unhooked his belt and slid the leather from his lean waist. Carefully, she unhooked his zipper and pulled it down, forgetting that her man never wore underwear and when his shaft sprung free, she nearly jumped back.
“He’s an eager barterer,” Arawn said, grinning at her look of surprise. She was staring at his cock, feeling heat curling low in her belly. Her husband was a large man and although she had never viewed any other man’s member, she was relatively sure his was larger than most. Long and thick, the head oozing with a pearly drop that drew and held her attention, the shaft leapt and Danielle groaned low in her throat.
She went to her knees in front of him.
Arawn sucked in a breath as her lips drew him in. He closed his eyes to the sweetness that was rolling around his taut head, which caressed his length, which lapped gently at his sac. He wanted to howl as she nipped at him then suckled him strongly as she reached up to cup him and knead his testicles.
“Wench, you are evil,” he said, and when she released him, he could have whimpered.
“Then punish me,
mo tiarna
,” she said, licking her lips as she stared up at him.
“Take me in hand for daring to be so forward.”
49
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
“I shall do that, wench.” He shifted so his legs came together. “Take off my boots,”
he ordered, and lifted his foot.
With his hand braced behind him on the windowsill, she pulled off first one then the other of his boots and set them aside. His cock was jutting out at her so stiffly, so beautifully full, it made her mouth water. As she peeled the socks from his feet, that steely length grazed her cheek and made her tremble with anticipation.
“Now take off my pants.”
“Nay,
mo tiarna
!” she said, looking up with pretend fear in her beautiful eyes. “I will unleash a monster if I do!”
“You’ll unleash my temper if you do not,” he said sternly, lifting his head to stare across the room.
Danielle made a whimpering sound, acting as though she were hiccupping from crying, and reached up to tug the garment down his long legs. She slid them down so slowly, so erotically, the hairs on her husband’s legs prickled.
“Wench,” he said, swallowing in order so his voice did not break, “you are trying my patience.”
A long, heartfelt sigh erupted from Danielle and she pushed the pants to the floor, biting her lower lip when he stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. On her hands and knees, she lifted her head and gazed up at him.
“What now,
mo tiarna
?” she asked.
The Prime Reaper bent over, took her by the arms and brought her to her feet. His gaze ran hotly over her from head to toe and then settled on her breasts. He met her gaze then arched a brow.
“You wouldn’t,” she said, reading his mind, and started to step back but before she could, his fingers were entangled in the neckline of her gown and he tore it down the middle.
“Arawn!” she complained, looking down.
“I’ll buy you a hundred such gowns, wench,” he said, tugging the ripped garment down over her shoulders.
“You’d better believe you will, Reaper,” she muttered beneath her breath. The gown was halfway down her back and at her words he pulled against it, jerking her to his naked chest. “Do you dare to admonish your master, wench?” he asked, his amber eyes flashing.
Danielle raised her chin and met his penetrating stare. “I will not go easily to my defilement, you brute!”
Arawn’s lips twisted into a devilish grin that made his lady’s womb clench. “Fight me then,” he said, jerking the gown down to her hips. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Before she could react, the gown was sailing across the room—the front of it from torn bodice to hem ripped in twain by his strong hands. She stood there in her camisole, 50
Prime Reaper
panties and slippers, and felt a shiver run through her at the lusty look on her man’s handsome face.
“Show me your fire, wench,” he said in a low, soft voice. He snapped her to him and placed his lips to her ear. “Hit me. Scratch me. Bite me. Give it your best shot.”
Danielle quivered again as his tongue spiraled into and around her ear. She was aching between her legs, wanting this man so intensely she would have done anything he bid.
He saw the witch in her emerge, knew she was about to try to escape him and loosened his grip on her arms. At the moment she tried to jerk free, he snagged his fingers in the bodice of her camisole and ripped it down the front.
“Arawn, for the love of—”
“Such beauty,” he said, reaching out to cup her unbound breasts, “should not be covered.”
“I hope you have a lot of credit at the Citadel exchange,” she grumbled. His thumbs dragged over her nipples and Danielle moaned. He was cupping her, kneading her, and one strong leg had insinuated itself between her legs and was pressing against the heated core of her. Even through the silk of her panties, she could feel the wiry hairs on his thigh grazing her tender flesh. She did not utter one sound when he stepped back and trailed his hands to the waistband of her panties. He tore those as well from her body. She simply stood there trembling with passion as he slid his palm between her legs.