The Fire Lord's Lover Part 4

"Is there anything else I can do for ye, lady?"

"No, dear, I think it's time you were off to bed yourself. Tomorrow we will see about making up the servants' bedchamber for you, but tonight I'm afraid you'll have to go back to the kitchens."

"Oh, I can sleep anywheres. Sometimes I go to the kennels with the dogs when it's cold."

Ca.s.sandra widened her eyes in horror. "Then we shall have to give you a good scrubbing before you return."

Gwen returned her look of horror. "But the water will make me sick."

"I promise it shan't. The nuns at my school taught me better."

Gwen humphed, already having given her opinion of Ca.s.s's education, but dragged her feet to the door. "I suppose," she sighed. "It will be hard to work for ye."

"I suppose." Ca.s.s yawned again. The stress of the day seemed to have caught up with her. Despite the hardness of the bed, she found herself falling back onto it.

"Yep, likely to be more of a ch.o.r.e 'n sc.r.a.ping carrots." The patter of her bare feet sounded all the way to the double doors leading out to the hall. Ca.s.s realized she should see about shoes for the girl as well.

Gwen's voice drifted through the quiet length of rooms. "Ye won't forget to come fetch me, will ye?"

"Of course not, Gwendolyn," called Ca.s.s. "Who shall unb.u.t.ton me tomorrow night?"

And with that a.s.surance, the door closed with a rattle, and alone in a strange room, Ca.s.s chided herself. What did she think she was doing? Setting up a household as if she had a right to. Why did she have to keep reminding herself that her marriage was nothing more than a falsehood? That this would never be her home, nor would she ever wish it to be. She had a larger task than improving the lives of a few slaves; indeed, she had the means to free them all. If she succeeded.

But it could be months before she found the right opportunity. Her mind balked at the thought that it could be years, for she couldn't imagine living years with these heathen people in this dreadful place. Besides, she had resigned herself to a short life. And the herbs she used to prevent a child might not be as reliable as she hoped. No, she could not be in this situation for long.

"But still," she whispered to the empty walls, "I will have to have my b.u.t.tons undone in the meantime."

And with those words she must have dozed off, for a sudden loud noise made her jump up in bed, blink sleepily at the clock over the hearth. Late night or early morning, she could take her pick, but hadn't the time to decide before a large shadow entered the room. Her husband had decided to forgo his mistress tonight after all. Ca.s.s's heart started pounding, and all vestiges of sleep fled as General Dominic Raikes's cold gaze surveyed the room and then finally settled on her.

"Take off your clothes."

Good Heavenly Lord. Ca.s.s could only stare at him in sheer terror.

"Are you deaf, wife? I said undress." He stood with his hands on his hips, in nothing but his breeches and hose. Had he shed his clothes on the way to their bedchamber, or were they strewn about his mistress's rooms?

The thought managed to pump a bit of anger through Ca.s.s. Another humiliation to add to the ones he'd already subjected her to today. "I cannot undo the laces of my stays. And there were no servants to help me."

She thought he scowled, but it might have been her imagination, for the candle she'd lit had burned down, and she had only the light from the dying fire to see him.

"You should learn to do for yourself. Depending on others only makes you weak."

She swallowed a retort that he didn't have backlacing stays or hundreds of b.u.t.tons where one couldn't reach, because he started for her and fear locked her throat. When he stood close enough to touch, she began to tremble. She'd heard the other girls in school whisper about the act. Nothing she'd heard had prepared her for this moment. Her husband was a horrible monster and would show her no mercy. She didn't know whether to scream or kill him.

Four.

Ca.s.s could do neither. Nor could she afford to hate him, as much as she would like to. It would not serve the Rebellion's cause.

"Turn around," he ordered. She obeyed and braced herself, expecting him to rip the laces from the fabric. But his fingers barely touched her skin, his hands gentle as he unlaced the ties and eased the stays off her. Then he made a noise in his throat, and Ca.s.s looked over her shoulder.

Fie, how she wished he weren't so beautiful. The firelight gleamed in his silver hair, danced along the muscled planes of his naked chest. His eyes appeared enormous in the half-light, dark and mysterious and capable of stealing her soul. Her fear of him didn't stop her from wanting to run her hands down that smooth, pale skin just to feel the texture of it.

His lip quirked at her inspection and her eyes flew to his mouth, remembering his kiss, wondering if he would kiss her again. Hoping and dreading it all at the same time.

"Turn around," he ordered again, then reached out, seized the cloth at the shoulders of her chemise, and ripped it off over her head.

Lady Ca.s.sandra gasped and tried to cover herself with her hands.

"Don't," he said, then spread his arms, and Ca.s.s felt the force of his magic. The fire flared to new life, lighting up the room, making her blink. She hadn't realized the strength of his magic and it made her fear him all the more.

She kept her arms by her sides by sheer force of will, feeling a flush crawl up her body to her face. He studied her the same way she had him; but she had only a touch of the elven blood, couldn't compare herself to his beauty, and feared he found her lacking.

Her goal had been to please her new husband, to gain his trust if not his affection. Ca.s.s lifted her chin. She needed to stop acting like some innocent schoolgirl and try to please him but didn't have the faintest idea how to go about doing that. Why hadn't Thomas taught her how to manage this?

"Lie down," he said as he moved to the other side of the bed, released the tie from around the canopy curtain. The black cloth fell, casting her into shadow, making it easier to lie flat on her back, her body exposed to his gaze. He untied the curtain at the foot of the bed but held it for a moment, his black gaze fastened on her rigid body. "Spread your legs."

Lord of mercy. Please help me. He would have a view of... She couldn't do it. The thought of her most private area exposed to his emotionless gaze set her trembling even harder. Did he purposely seek to embarra.s.s her? Or did his mistress treat him to the sight this evening and he expected only the same from her?

"I... I can't."

His mouth twisted. "Don't you want to please your husband?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean-"

He laughed, allowed the curtain to fall, cutting him off from view. "You are the innocent I was promised," he said from behind the barrier of the drapery, his voice low and m.u.f.fled. "Well done, Father."

When he appeared again next to her, she suppressed a yelp and chided herself. Her fear would only make this worse. She closed her eyes and froze. She would just hold still and endure. That's what the other girls in school had advised each other. There would be some pain, but if one held still and silent, the man would finish all the more quickly.

And right now, all Ca.s.sandra could hope for was a quick end to her husband's attentions.

The fire subsided to a normal glow and he sat next to her, dropped the one remaining curtain, shutting them inside the box bed, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the room, the rest of the world. Plunging them into complete darkness.

Nothing could save Ca.s.sandra now.

She widened her eyes, unable to see a thing, hoping he couldn't either regardless of his superior elven sight. It made her relax a bit, feel a little less exposed. She heard him move, felt the warmth of his fingers touch her arm.

Ca.s.s jumped then froze again.

She waited for him to give her another order. Waited for him to violate her with that cold harshness he always used with her.

But his hand trailed up to her neck, gently stroking, smoothing back her tousled hair. His touch sent little s.h.i.+vers racing through her body and she gritted her teeth against the shock of it. He stilled, and she could hear only her little pants, the smooth rhythm of his breathing. She sensed a change in him, felt him relax, as if he released some barrier and it eased him.

Then he curled one arm beneath her shoulders and his other beneath her bottom and gathered her up against the smooth warmth of his chest. He held her there for the longest time, until her trembling eased and her muscles went lax. Until she slowly became aware of the hardening length of him beneath her backside.

He smelled like some exotic spice and she breathed in the delicious scent. She could feel the beat of his heart, and it comforted her that although he looked like an angel, he felt very much like an ordinary man.

Her husband kissed her hair and it made her tremble, but not with fear this time. With something else, a wanting she couldn't quite define. His lips trailed kisses down to her brow and the heat of them, the tender soft feel of his mouth, made her bold. Ca.s.s leaned back her head and met his lips with her own.

It happened again. Just like when he had kissed her in the abbey. She became aware of nothing but the feel of his mouth on hers, the texture of his tongue as he slipped inside her own welcoming warmth. The fire that spread from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to her most private place. Time stopped and she didn't know how long he held her, tasting her, showing her the pleasure he could bring her.

He s.h.i.+fted and she barely noticed, too intent on the feelings his kiss evoked. She moaned, the sound loud in the silence of their coc.o.o.n, and lifted her arms, curling them around his broad shoulders. She could feel the strength of his muscles beneath the silk of his skin, could tell he held that strength in check. For her.

The realization emboldened her. Since the first time she had seen him, she'd longed to touch that silver-white hair. Her hands crept up to his neck and she buried her fingers in the silky softness of it. Fine as the strand of a spider's web, but so thick it created a heavy fall that reached the lower part of his back. Ca.s.s stroked it, resisting the urge to purr with utter delight.

She didn't know when his hand had covered her breast. When the warmth of his palm finally penetrated her senses, she didn't start or tremble with fear. She moaned and pressed against his touch. His mouth slipped away from hers, traveled down her throat. He s.h.i.+fted her and pressed kisses along her collarbone, and then lower until she felt his mouth replace his hand, circling her nipple in some slow dance.

Her fingers clenched in his hair when he drew her nipple into his mouth. She had never imagined such a thing. Couldn't have antic.i.p.ated the jolt that went through her. As he drew on her bud again and again, her body responded with an answering ache of need. Ca.s.s squirmed with the want of it, not understanding what was happening to her but hoping he knew how to soothe it.

He continued to hold her with one arm, arching her back, turning his attention to her other breast. It happened all over again and Ca.s.s moaned.

Then he touched her thigh, spread his fingers wide, and smoothed his large hand down over her knee, then to her calf. Her attention strayed from his mouth for a moment. No one had ever touched her so intimately before and yet it seemed as natural as if he had always owned the right to her body.

And then he stroked her other leg with the same rhythmic movements, came back to her thigh, and hesitated a moment. Ca.s.s unclenched her fingers from his hair, felt the tie that had held his battle braids away from his face come loose and fall forward. When he lifted his head the braids fell across her sensitized b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the strands of fine hair at the ends of them tickling her skin.

His mouth again found hers. She eagerly opened for him, welcoming the raspy feel of his tongue, the salty-sweet taste of him. This time Ca.s.s pressed herself against him, tightening her hold around his neck, wanting him closer and yet feeling he still wasn't close enough.

She felt his hand cover the triangle of hair between her legs. She would have flushed with embarra.s.sment if she hadn't been so involved in learning how to kiss him properly. He stroked her mouth with his tongue in the same gentle movements that he stroked her downy hair with his fingers. He did it long enough that when his finger dipped lower Ca.s.s had become so used to his touch that she barely flushed at the intrusion. He slid his finger deep inside of her and the sensations that caused made her break the kiss with a gasp.

She wanted to push his hand away, wanted him to stroke her more deeply.

Ca.s.s froze in confusion.

But the general had no doubts about what she wanted. His fingers continued to stroke and fondle while he buried his face in her neck, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin there. Making her entire body come alive with some need that soon had Ca.s.s bucking against his hand, clutching desperately at his muscular shoulders.

She had never imagined the act of making children would be like this. Ca.s.s couldn't quite grasp what had happened to her. He made her body feel things it had never felt before, and heaven help her, she loved it.

His fingers grew so slick with her wetness that when he sought the nub hidden within her downy hair, it brought wonderful new sensations coursing through her. A sudden tightening replaced the deeper longing that had risen in her womb. What new magic did he perform on her now?

Tiny tremors shook her as she squirmed beneath his touch. Something lay just within her reach, something that built within her, and Ca.s.s couldn't imagine what it might be. But shouldn't she be doing the same to him? Shouldn't she be discovering his body as well? She couldn't learn to please him too if she didn't try.

Her hands drifted down his shoulders, across his chest. Smooth, hot skin. Rigid muscles beneath. Her fingertips grazed his nipples, and she wondered if he would experience the same pleasure that she had. She gently pushed at his chest until he lifted his head and she could bring her own mouth to his neck. In the darkness she missed and found her lips on the curve of skin that defined the middle of his chest. He tasted salty and clean. Like spring water and ocean spray all at the same time.

Ca.s.s found the peak of his nipple and sucked at it the same way he'd done hers.

Dominic groaned. A deep sound that she felt rumble in his chest, on her lips.

And then he pulled away from her.

For a moment her heart stopped. Had she displeased him then? She feared to ask. Just listened to the harshness of his breathing as he seemed to struggle for control. Then he laughed, a low chuckle that made the hair on her body rise. "You learn quickly, don't you?" he whispered.

She opened her mouth to respond, but in one graceful movement his entire body covered the length of hers, and she sucked in a breath at the heat of him. The sheer strength and size of his body atop hers. But he didn't crush her. He kept his full weight suspended just above her, while touching every inch of her body with the heat of his skin.

Ca.s.sandra sighed.

"Spread your legs," he whispered in her ear. But this time it wasn't a command. It sounded almost like... a plea. A prayer.

Her heart gave a funny little twist and she moved her legs, felt him settle between them. Felt something round and hard and soft and exhilarating prod at the wetness he'd created between her thighs. Felt the resistance within her as he pushed forward. Felt it break as she forgot to be frightened and bucked up to meet him, a small exhalation of pain escaping through her lips.

And then the pain faded and the general taught her a new dance. A dance she never could have conceived of, that held beauty and grace and a desperate longing to somehow make two people become one. A dance so intimate that she thought she felt his very soul.

Ca.s.s threw back her head and gloried in the sensations he made her feel. No, she could never have imagined anything like this. The feel, the smell, the strength of him...

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her fingers in his hair again. One moment she thought him a devil and then the next, an angel, and she truly couldn't decide what sort of man she had married.

He took long smooth strokes inside of her, making that deep ache in her womb grow again, this time even more fiercely. Ca.s.s clenched her teeth against the need to cry out, to demand that he dance faster, harder. She needed... needed...

He abruptly halted the dance and pulled his upper body away from hers, tearing her arms away from him, and she knew him to be a devil.

His hand sought the nub just above where their bodies joined, stroking it with a gentle finger while he took up the rhythm of the dance again, and she knew him to be an angel.

Because now the fierce longing in her womb joined with another feeling, one that made her s.h.i.+ver, made her squirm beneath him, and she could no longer hold back her cries. And then. And then the world split asunder and a wave of glorious pleasure ripped through her, like a swelling tide that continued to rise and fall, rocking her on a tempest of radiant delight.

"Oh," she cried, startled and amazed.

The demon laughed. He pulled his hand away and lowered his chest atop hers again, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her lips. Then he lunged inside of her so swiftly, so deeply, that she thought it would hurt. But somehow he knew, knew it was exactly what she needed, knew she could encompa.s.s the full length of him.

Indeed, Ca.s.sandra fought for more.

She clutched at his shoulders, lifted her hips up to meet his. Her fingers roughly tangled in his hair, and she wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his bottom, forcing him ever deeper inside of her. She didn't beg, she demanded.

And her husband complied with a growl of feral pleasure.

The world split asunder for Ca.s.s again, but this time it was a deeper pleasure. As she rode it, she felt Dominic's body stiffen, heard his intake of breath, and then he shook as well, his harsh pants mingling with her own sighs. His release made her buck against him again, take him deeper, as if she sought to take his seed completely into her womb.

Ca.s.sandra came to herself with a start. Despite what her body urged, she couldn't afford to become pregnant. How could she have forgotten so easily the reason she'd married this man?

She lay beneath him for a time, fighting for calm, until she finally nudged him to roll off her and he allowed it, landing heavily on the hard bed. Ca.s.s fought at the bed curtain until she found the opening, then slipped outside and into the cooler air of the room. She took a few deep breaths, fighting for her sense of self again. How had he managed to make her lose it?

She looked down at her naked body in the firelight and grimaced. Thomas should have warned her about this. Should have prepared some defense against it. But how could he have known this cold elven b.a.s.t.a.r.d could light such a fire within her? She had never suspected her new husband would be such a gentle lover. Thomas surely wouldn't have.

Ca.s.sandra waited, listening to the even breathing behind the curtained bed. Thank heavens, it sounded as if the general had drifted off to sleep. She wasn't sure she could withstand his attentions again. Her heart thrummed at the thought and she chided her body to behave itself. Went to her chest and put on her nightgown, then removed her bag of herbs and favorite teapot. She inspected the room as she hung the pot over the fire. She should have brought more of her belongings with her, by the looks of things. After she acquired some servants she would go shopping.

She stoked the fire and her wedding ring glinted, the rose open to a full blossom. While she waited for her tea to steep she stared at the black curtain, wondering what type of man she had truly married. In public he treated her coldly, yet the moment he'd closed the curtains behind them he had touched her so gently. Had prepared her so skillfully for his lovemaking. She'd barely felt any pain and her shyness had fled with his ministrations.

There appeared to be more to General Dominic Raikes than he allowed others to see. Could she possibly gain enough of his trust to allow her to use him?

Ca.s.sandra's head spun in useless conjecture while she sipped her tea, then tucked the herbs back into her trunk and finally returned to the bed. She slowly parted the curtains, the glow of the fire revealing the nude body of her sleeping husband. Her breath caught.

She'd felt every inch of him and yet hadn't seen him at all. That thick silvery hair of his-which had felt like spun silk in her hands-parted slightly over the tips of his ears and spread out around him like a sparkling halo. He lay on his back, one arm thrown above his head, his face softer in sleep, the angles less harsh. His pale skin appeared to glow in the darkness, highlighting the muscles of his chest, the ridges in his abdomen. The long sinews in his thighs. She averted her gaze from the part of him that had brought her so much pleasure, and blushed. She hadn't the boldness for that. Not after one night.

Suddenly his lids flew open, that black gaze of his seeming to swallow her whole, seeming to know her every thought. The fire reflected in the crystalline brilliance of his eyes and Ca.s.sandra shuddered. He was so very beautiful.

"You're cold," he said, his voice deep and low.