Barbour, Carolina - Watch Me, Desire Me (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 13

  After the harsh remark he should have treaded lightly if he possessed the knack for being passive. He doubted he ever would, it wasn’t his style. “I should be offended by how easily you can drop your lady-like demeanor and become bitchy. Oddly, this spirit of yours is intriguing, if not exciting as hell.” In a flash he had her flat on her back, thighs spread, and emanating an arousing pheromone.

  Saxby shoved her hands into his chest. “You said you wouldn’t rape me.”

  He bent her legs, forced them wider, and pushed until the crown of his penis entered the tiniest bit. He looked down at her. “Then you better not make a liar out of me by continuing to refuse what we both know you want.” He entered another measure, held—“You’re slippery wet, tight, and taking everything I have not to penetrate fully.” He outlined her face with his palms, kissed her hard, and softly melded their mouths together in a heated entanglement of whipping tongues drew a sigh from her. He breathed against her lips leaving them moist. “I’m waiting, and I warn you, I’m not a patient man. Do you want me to make love to you are not?”

  He wondered why he said “love” when it was sex? This was fucking and nothing more, yet the word comfortably slipped from his lips. He obliged her silent demand when she rose faintly against his erection, understanding she wanted what he desired. Without further preliminaries, he plunged forward, retreated, and penetrated again to begin a steady flux and flow of delicate motion he knew would bring her pleasure. He continued the rhythm until she cried out softly, wrapped her arms around his neck, and then he increased the tempo to deep dives. He withdrew marginally, shivered feeling her nails dig into his back, he held feeling her body tense, before he thrust again and again until her abrupt sob of delirium erupted and died away in a breathy moan when she climaxed. Her orgasm sent a wave of fluttering sensations over his cock like moth wings sending ripples of pleasure over his penis deeply embedded. His body taut, as tight as a bowstring, he shuddered with his release feeling spurts of cum to fill and drench the fiery portal to overflow.

  She was snoring within minutes. He watched her sleep, kissed her damp forehead, and wrapped her protectively in an embrace. He continued to keep an eye on her, savoring the irresistible display of the curvaceous figure.

  She said something inaudible, stretched, and hugged him tighter. He stroked her cheek and whispered, “There is something about you that ignites passion within me. What is it?”

  “Ummm…”

  He didn’t respond. What was there to say? She took him to a point even he didn’t understand.

  What he did know this was dangerous. Sex wasn’t just sex anymore.

  Chapter 19

  The sun rose over the mountaintops, casting sunrays that reflected off the windows on the balcony doors, onto the bed, and the blinding light awakened Juden. With the dawn of day, reality surfaced, forcing him to face not only the early morning, but also his actions during the night. Things he wanted to bury and leave in the dark. Realities he rather not consider too long for fear he’d have to accept the plausibility that he lost his mind.

  He realized admitting truths to oneself was a difficult thing to do when you weren’t accustomed to questioning your actions. The trait uncommon, never surfaced before, and accepting it made it hard to swallow.

  He never had a problem separating business and pleasure. The women who shared his bed had been strictly for entertainment until the lovely Lady Saxby.

  What uniqueness did Saxby own, which allowed her to effectively get inside his heart and head so quickly? Otherwise, why had the lady swiftly become a constant thought whether he was in her proximity or not? Then there was the unorthodox over-exuberance of attention he bestowed on her which went beyond a simple sexual tryst, no matter they had spent hours in a fucking marathon, he couldn’t get enough of her. Even now, as she lay beside him sleeping, all he could think about was taking her again. When a night of nonstop fucking should have appeased what he considered runaway lust and too many nights celibate. He knew better.

  Often during their interlude when they came up for air, he actually entertained Saxby by listening to her talk, actually engaged in the conversation, and found himself interested in what she said. Hearing her voice, subtle with a hint of huskiness, even pleased him. And as the night waned, at each intermission from their hot escapades, he found himself looking forward to hearing what she wanted to discuss next.

  Up until he encountered the temptation beside him, his involvement with women required a lot of action and minimal, if any, conversation.

  In the beginning, they spoke of nothing in particular, mundane things, and made small talk. As things progressed, he learned of her interest in art, music, riding, and her love for simplicity in what she called a complicated life. She hadn’t said as much, he knew she referred to her marriage with Milo. She hadn’t elaborated on the details of how she felt, and he hadn’t pressed her. There was no interest in discussing Milo or that Saxby belonged to him. He wasn’t ready to deal with that fact. He supposed it might have been why he jumped at the opportunity to change topics when Saxby turned the conversation to him, wanting to know things about him, he readily responded to all her inquiries. His tongue became loose, and before he was aware, he shared parts of him he always conveniently kept private. Simply because she asked, not insisted, and even then he feared he would have told Saxby anything she wanted to know. Maybe, because he realized he might not be able to deny the woman anything. Damn, if he weren’t in trouble and man enough to admit it. Things were getting too serious. The notion invaded his thoughts now, and even during the most inopportune times when he should have been concentrating on fucking, he found himself contemplating how she felt in his arms. Her touch, and how he wanted to hold her closer, fuck her harder, and make endearing love to her as he did with no other.

  Careful not to wake her, Juden eased from the bed. He sat on the edge and dared a glance at the enticing body sprawled leisurely over the covers. The sheet was at her waist, displaying the swell of breasts, slender waist, and flaring hips. He could see a small thatch of reddish-brown hair, and if he moved the cover lower, her entire pussy and all its glory would be visible. The temptation was great. Juden shoved the thought aside. He heard movement within the dwelling and knew shortly people would begin to move about to get the holding ready for the day.

  For discretion, he knew he should hurry, dress, and leave before anyone discovered he spent the night in her bed.

  Saxby stirred, mumbled something, and rolled to her side giving him a view of her round derriere, a perfect, plump, ass caught his attention, a sight responsible for stalling his departure and left him unable to pull away from the seductive glimpse.

  He should leave. He didn’t or more likely couldn’t. Mindless, filled with a fresh wave of need for the lascivious attraction, Juden slipped beside Saxby and gathered her in his arms.

  The woman was receptive, Juden thought with a faint lift of his eyebrows that matched his smile. She mumbled softly, parted her legs, and allowed him to slip inside the moist cove. A sigh of admiration escaped from his lips, as she wrapped her arms around him, eagerly rose to meet his next thrust, while murmuring sweet nothings in his ear. All having to do with her appreciation for his amorous expertise, before her whispery words died away to heavy breaths just before she groaned in a throaty contralto tone and quaked.

  Their mating turned primal, a singular force of unrelenting lust raged through them and built to a crescendo and pushed each to an edge where they dangled on the cusp. And hovered for one restless moment, Saxby became inert, Juden tensed, bodies convulsed with the force of their release that hit as violently as a lightning strike.

  Reluctantly, Juden released her after she kissed his forehead tenderly and whispered her appreciation. Within seconds, she was back in a deep slumber. He marginally drained, wanted to hold her in his arms, and relish in the explosive reminiscence of out of control sex that left pangs of regret about leaving.

  He must, Juden thought hearing commotio
n just beyond the open balcony doors. At first, he thought a storm was forming until he glanced at the high sun and clear sky, and suspected something else was amiss.

  He listened intensely and went rigid when he realized what made the noise. Riders beat a straight path to Dandelion. The constant pounding of horse hooves heard clearly, even though he could tell the men were still a distance from the gates, the sound of animals pounding the earth at a fast pace was distinctive and recognizable.

  Within minutes, he was up, dressed, and pulled his boots on when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway toward the chamber. Before Faison knocked, Juden swung the door open and stepped into the corridor for privacy. Fasion looked agitated. His eyebrows slanted in a deep wrinkle. His tone cold and crisp when he spoke, saying, “Apparently the idiot refuses to take no for an answer.”

  Juden understood without Faison having to go into details. From the moment he realized riders were converging on Dandelion, he knew whom and why they came. He gave Faison instructions before he returned to the room and found Saxby sitting up in the bed. She watched him closely. “What is it?”

  “It seems Lord Drackett needs to be taught a lesson.”

  Saxby held the covers to her body, scooted to the edge of the bed, and looked at him worriedly watching as he strapped the leather band around his waist. Her eyes flew wider, when he sheathed his blade, and tucked another into the other side of his waistband.

  “Surely this matter can be handled amicably?”

  Juden smirked, giving her a light smile. “Perhaps, but I don’t think so,” he said, ultra low.

  She was up and stood in front of him. “There is no cause for bloodshed. You merely must tell Lord Drackett Carline is wed,” she explained, as if he hadn’t the ability to know this.

  “If I thought it could stop the idiot I might consider being benevolent and ignore his outright affront to come with forces a second time,” he said. His eyes turned flinty hard. “Unfortunately, I don’t feel an ounce of mercy. In fact, I look forward to having an in-depth conversation with Lord Drackett about his lack of manners just before I kill him. It will be a harsh lesson, albeit one he rightfully deserves.”

  Saxby clutched his arm. “I’m begging you not to do this, Juden. Has there not been enough bloodshed? Senseless killing…so much death and despair,” she said quietly.

  Juden uncurled her fingers, kissed her palm, and shooed her back into the room like a mother hen babies chicks. “Get dressed. Stay put. Don’t leave this room until I come for you.”

  * * * *

  Juden stood on the platform of the doorway, at the top of the steps, arms crossed, absorbed with observing the many warriors heading toward Dandelion. He watched the clouds of dust, white puffs of smoke that rose and polluted the air along with debris, as Lord Drackett and his men rode hell-bent, pushing their mounts.

  Lord Drackett resided a distance away from Dandelion, so he assumed they rode since yesterday, through the darkness, into morning, to reach the holding at daybreak. He assumed Lord Drackett wanted the element of surprise on his side, thinking his early arrival gave him the upper hand. What the buffoon failed to realize is he never doubted for one minute their altercation over Carline was settled. Nor would it ever be as long as one of them remained breathing. He would rectify that today.

  Juden made his way down the steps, taking them two at a time, and joined his guards who waited at the bottom of the stairs for his directions. He noticed people scurried for cover, and peaked from hiding places. Some watched with curiosity, others apprehension, at the coming liege of warriors that outnumbered his men twenty to one.

  Amongst the onlookers stood Milo’s men, all armed, each one lacked any show they had the propensity to fight beside him or at all. It irritated him that most of the men seemed reluctant, kept to the shadows, hidden as if fearing he might call upon them to protect their lord, home, or Lady Saxby. Whatever the unwillingness, he might forgive their transgression against Milo. However, they would rue the day for turning a blind eye on Saxby.

  Then again, Juden thought, scanning the lazy lot of men, perhaps it wasn’t they wouldn’t protect Saxby if needed. But, more so, why should they bother with him here? He dismissed any thought about why or why not Milo’s men didn’t seem eager to join his side. The reasoning was of little importance, and in retrospect, he preferred they stay out of the way.

  VanZandt warriors were trained in the art of combat, tutelage he started as soon as a boy could understand simple instructions. He primed their minds with the ancient techniques passed down from the legend of elders who lead variants to successful victory, after victory, even amongst their greatest adversaries. When the boys came of age, they were required to take a place beside their fathers on the practice field. There, the teaching started with methods of survival and battle maneuvers. Exercises practiced to prolong stamina that seemed inexhaustible to opponents, and ways to wield a sword as if it was an extension of their hand. Sometimes to defeat an opponent with no weapon at all, fight insufferably with mind and body. Because Juden understood encounters could be won before a battle ensued. Mind games and intimidation carried strong weight and suited a purpose, fear could make a man make mistakes and anger, cost him his life. His men never succumbed because of either plight.

  Juden ensured his warriors knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses. How to mask such, and fight side by side, as a well mechanical machine with parts that operated as one. If a piece of the mechanism—a man—faltered, for whatever reason, without missing a beat, another was there to take his place and keep up the focus, an ingrained practice of simple beliefs. You showed no mercy, annihilated your enemy, and spared no life intent to take your own.

  Juden stepped beside his inner circle, and his men fell in beside him. No one spoke, each waited silently. All held stern expressions, rigid stances, and to onlookers they appeared ominous even in the light. “How many come, Juden?” Jilst asked, holding his hand to his face to block out the sun.

  Juden shrugged with indifference.

  “Does it matter?” Selwyn said. He cracked his knuckles.

  “Not particularly, Selwyn, I was making idle chatter to pass the time.” Jilst rocked back on the heels of his feet. He began whistling, an upbeat tune, as he scanned the horizon. Then he abruptly stopped, whirled around, and then looked at Juden.

  The other guards shifted their attention from the hillside to gape at Lady Saxby when she came to Juden’s side.

  “The lady is here, Juden,” Fasion announced, motioning to Saxby.

  He sensed her, smelled her scent in the wind, and knew as soon as she left her chamber. “I’m not surprised.” Juden turned slowly, glanced down, and caught Saxby in an unwavering stare. “I thought I told you to remain inside.”

  “You want to train something, get a pet.” Slowly, he inhaled and exhaled, and counted to ten…twenty before he faced Saxby again. The expression he wore was sharp and lucid with animosity. “Lady, your audacity is unbound.” With that he grabbed her arm and started dragging her back toward the dwelling.

  “Wait a minute!” Saxby shrieked, struggled, and tried to dislodge his grip. She stomped her foot. “Juden, you will not treat with like this!”

  He was in her face, breathing hard, his eyes flickering with danger. “I do not tolerate disobedience very well.”

  Saxby lifted up her chin as defense against Juden’s chilling gaze.

  “You have five minutes and counting” The words were monotone. He released her arm and stepped back.

  Her eyes burned into his. “I simply want to know what is happening,” she snapped.

  “Lord Drackett is coming and you should not be out here,” he said in an equally neutral tone as he spoke before. “Three minutes.”

  “You expect me to sit inside and wait docile as an obedient lap dog?”

  “We both know you don’t have a meek bone in your body. One minute.”

  Saxby fumed. She huffed. Set a flaming stare on Juden that should have singed his
hair. Instead, he stood blasé, looking down at her, unaffected by her building conniption.

  Juden reached for her arm. She shoved his hand away. “Wait a minute.” She stood on tiptoes trying to see pass his broad shoulders. Then she looked at him, saying, “You repaired the gate and surrounding walls gives me comfort. Lord Drackett’s men would have to be fog to enter.

  “Borg! Open the gates!” Juden shouted over his shoulder. Saxby’s mouth dropped. She sputtered. “Are you insane?”

  Juden’s breath shot out like fire. He wiped his hand slowly down his face, and then stared at Saxby as if she was some peculiar object that both puzzled and frustrated him.

  She yelped when he moved swift as air, overtook her, and started moving her toward the manor. His voice was low, a level above a hiss, he was in her ear and said, “Don’t fucking push me.” He enclosed his hand on her waist and effortlessly lifted her off her feet.

  Saxby went kicking and screaming, making a fuss, and shoving her hand into his chest as Juden carried her inside. Once in the hall, he unceremoniously dropped her into a chair, causing it to teeter-totter, almost tumble to the floor, before he caught her and set her upright. When she made to move, Juden put his finger in her face. “I mean it, Saxby. Don’t you move from this room or else.”

  “Or what, you will spank me?” she challenged.

  Juden forced the air from his lungs. He spoke low. “If you insist on acting like a child, I will treat you like one. Don’t disobey me again, and don’t ever undermine my authority in front of my men. When we are alone you can say what the hell you want.” He added, turned on the balls of his feet, and stormed out the room knowing he left a very pouty, angry, women glaring blades at his back.

  She will get over it.

  Within minutes, Juden returned to his men. The only sign Saxby antics had annoyed him was the constant tick in his jaw.

  “The lady is bold, is she not? She shows bravado most females don’t in your presence,” Faison said. His tone sounded satisfied.