A Wanton's Thief Page 8

  I will escape you. That I vow with every breath I take.

  He whirled Warrior around and took off into a dense section of the copse behind the barn. The sounds of Sheldon’s rescue party gradually faded, and with it, her heart sank.

  “If it makes you feel better to believe so, my fiery wench, please do indulge. But I can think of other more interesting ways to treat yourself…” He pulled her snug against him. Warmth enveloped her and she caught the earthy scent of him upon the breeze.

  Keep your thieving hands off me!

  He sighed. A hand came up to delve into the opening of her cloak. He nestled his palm across her quivering abdomen. “‘Tis no use, little dove. Your mind reasons away what your body demands—of its own needs, without the influence of my tazir powers. You know it. I know it.”

  Bastard.

  He chuckled, apparently encouraged rather than dissuaded by her silent vehemence.

  As they trotted along placing miles between them and the inn, they darted through underbrush and around massive oaks and maples. An uneventful, silent hour passed in which they partook of the bread, cheese and wine Lance had provided for them. The danger of being discovered was now long gone…and his hand slipped into her bodice making firm contact with her flesh. She gasped, astounded that her body could come to life with such quick, agile traitorousness. There was no possible way she could ignore the swift onslaught of lust that curled deep into her abdomen when his adept fingers found her already taut nipple.

  No…

  “Yes.” He pinched the knot, and she could have sworn he struck up a flame and held it to her areola. Visions of their mating only hours past filled her mind. She could recall with vivid clarity the flood of wetness between her thighs, the sensation of his huge organ filling her, stretching her tender pussy. Just thinking about it caused sticky juice to pour from her core in a shocking gush. She closed her eyes, damning herself for her continued weakness, yet welcoming the carnal web he weaved around her, into her. Her head fell back against his chest in abandon.

  “I want you again, Salena.” His words sounded ragged and strained, as if just to speak pained him. It made her shiver, made her eyelids flutter shut and her heart beat erratically. “But, as usual, this aspect of our acquaintance is not under the blanket of my spells. It is your decision once again.”

  Ah, you want me again. Well, that is no secret. And obviously, I cannot hide my thoughts from you, either, so I’ll admit to a reluctant want, as well. But hear this, wizard ravager. You can steal my family’s trinkets, and a bauble or coin here and there. And now it seems, you’re able to take my own desires and turn them into some sort of dark, erotic force against me. But again, Robin Hood, Prince of Plunderers, you can never have my heart or soul.

  He growled. “You present a challenge I cannot resist conquering.” He yanked her around to face him, even as the horse continued on its journey. Angered by her impassioned vow, he forced her legs apart so that she faced him, straddling him as they rode. The move drew her skirts up to her calves, and biting-cold air swirled up into the folds of her gown. She welcomed the coolness, sighed when it caressed her scorching mons.

  “You may move your entire body now in whatever fashion you wish except escape. A decision made because I desire to feel your arms around me, the unbridled movements of that passion of yours you keep under discriminate lock and key. And I want to feel you clutch desperately at me when I shove this—” he slammed her pussy against his codpiece, “—into your sweet depths.”

  She gasped, a warm throbbing ache settling into her core. “I…oh, God, what sort of sorcery have you wielded over me? Why is it that even void of your powers, my body continues to disobey me?”

  He shoved her skirts up. “Because of this.” Salena looked down between her legs, as did Falcon. His green eyes glazed over with a rabid need that further enflamed her. Just then, the sun peeped through a hole in the gray morning clouds. A lone ray of sunlight shone upon her glistening pearl. The scent of her arousal wafted up to tease her, to make her forget her need to escape this villain. All she could think of was achieving that new climactic bliss this man had introduced her to. It seemed he’d enticed her into an addiction she could not control, despite her perilous situation. She needed it, had to have it before her cunt imploded.

  “And because of this…” Chest rising and falling with a rapid rhythm, he freed his tool from behind the layer of his codpiece and braies. By the light of the sun, a white droplet of wetness glistened upon its tip. She’d never before seen a man’s parts so closely, never had the inclination nor the opportunity to examine the magic wand whispered about at court.

  The sight of it stilled her breath within her windpipe. Long, thick and veiny, its size and girth made her groin muscles tighten involuntarily. Hot cream dribbled from her vagina. A cold autumn breeze swirled around them, tossing their hair and garments, but Salena welcomed the cooling sensation upon her burning, perspiring flesh. Her eyes devoured the rod jutting up from the sac nestled before the crisp pale golden curls of his groin. Rubbing her hands up and down her thighs, she flicked her gaze between that aroused cock she now knew could bring her wicked pleasure, and the blazing green eyes narrowed behind the slits of the mask.

  Oh…Lord. That fit inside me?

  “Oh, yes, you sheathed it like a sword’s casing. Go ahead, love. Touch it.”

  Her eyes widened. Touch it?

  “Yes. And as I’ve already said, you may speak and move at will now—unless we happen upon anyone. Though we lost them long ago, if we should encounter anyone at all, you will not speak to them or move your body in an attempt to escape.”

  She shrugged off his command, her mind focused on another matter. “I can really touch it?”

  He nodded slowly, almost ominously. Reaching for her hand, he took it and wrapped it around his shaft. Falcon’s eyes went limpid behind the mask and he drew in a tight puff of air. His cock felt smooth and silky-soft against her palm, and it was so enormous, her fingers couldn’t quite encircle its circumference. He covered the back of her hand with his palm and squeezed, showing her the correct amount of pressure to apply.

  “That’s it, up and down, tight.” He stroked himself using her hand. From the base where his scrotum sat, all the way up and over the tip, she explored the length of him, the very tool that had robbed her of her morals. She quickly caught on to the tempo, so he removed his firm guidance and gripped her hips instead.

  She licked her lips, fondling him, inhaling sharp spurts of cold air. White clouds of condensation puffed from both of their mouths. His hands bit into her pelvis as he held her straddled upon his lap. Tiny droplets of white cream emerged from the slit making her wonder what it might taste like. All the while, the horse walked and rocked her back and forth over Falcon’s legs.

  “I want to fuck you now, princess,” he said tightly.

  “Now?”

  “Now.”

  She felt something quicken inside her, a rush of wanton urgency. The naughtiness of her position with her legs spread over him, the forbidden exposure of both of their private parts…it made her long to growl and attack as a predator of the forest might.

  “But…but here? Outdoors?”

  “Here,” he confirmed, dragging her close so that her rear scraped over the horse’s spine. “Here while we ride.”

  While we ride? Oh, but the possibility of it, the wild danger, unleashed some hidden beast inside her. Her clit and labia pulsated with desperate, demanding desire. In beat to that pulsation, her heart thumped against her breastbone. White, sticky juices poured from her vagina. There would be no discreet masturbation, no stopping to seek the privacy of shelter. He would penetrate her now!

  The base of his cock came into contact with her sensitive quim. His hands slid up into her armpits and he lifted her just enough so that her mound was positioned over the moist head.

  But the move suddenly sent the fear of King Henry through her. She stiffened. “No!”

  “‘Tis
all right, Salena.” He said it soothingly, as if he’d fully expected her sudden trepidation. “I know you are tender there. I will go slow. I will be gentle with you. That I promise.”

  She had her hands planted on his thick, beefy shoulders. Looking down into his upturned, masked expression, visions filled her mind of his handsome, wounded face poised above her as he pummeled her hole. The gentle passion he’d shown her had been etched in her memory forever. Her first betrothal, Thane’s fumbling attempt at premarital lovemaking, his untimely death and her second betrothal to the duke were erased from her past at that very moment. Now, the deep timbre of Falcon’s voice caressed her, easing away the memories and the slight fear of being penetrated by that large shaft in a place that even now remained sore.

  “I…I’ll admit, I ache for it. I-I just fear it will pain me overly much in this shocking, forceful…position.”

  He ground his teeth together in restraint. “‘Tis your choice, then, love.” And he nuzzled his face into her breasts. Her nipples flamed with aching need. As he rooted for a taut pebble, he adeptly moved her hips and dragged her cunt over the tip of his cock. She moaned out her pleasure, craving its length within her once again.

  “Yes…please…” Her words trailed off when he pushed aside the neckline of her gown with his teeth and exposed one nipple. He sucked it into his hot, wet mouth, his tongue flickering over it so that she cried out. An inferno raced through her so fiercely, she clutched his head to her breast. Unable to resist, she wiggled and twisted until she had the head of his shaft at her entry.

  “Slow, gentle…please,” she panted.

  His arms came around her, holding her protectively against him as the horse beneath them walked lazily through the forest. Falcon released the areola so that he could look up into her face. As he slowly lowered her down onto his rigid cock, he slid his tongue up her chest, along the side of her neck. Gooseflesh of desire rippled out across her arms. Tender at first, her passage tightened against the invasion. But as he gradually entered her, the silky texture of his rod dragged over her clitoris. A slow burn of damp ecstasy erupted in her core. She felt herself go wetter, she coated him with the elixir he could effortlessly draw from her cunt.

  Down she went, her passage stretching, taking all of him in, inch by thick inch. Her system jumped with excitement when she felt the tip of him touch a sensitive spot deep inside her. It made waves of bliss ripple out to her fingers and toes.

  “Ah…” Her legs came around him and clamped at his buttocks. She clung to his neck, starving for a taste of him. So she took. Salena stole the very breath from him. He opened his mouth and took her in, just as she had taken him into her depths. He groaned into her mouth, his tongue dancing silk-wet around hers. He tasted of the tart wine they’d sipped on as they’d traveled earlier in the morning. She drank of him, now intoxicated by his flavor and the sword he had buried into her core.

  “Make me feel it again—please.” Desperate now for release, she didn’t care that she begged a thief for his prized sword or a scoundrel for his talented touch. She just wanted to attain that delicious sensation. There was no other way to describe it. No way to point out that she would regret it as soon as she got what she craved. Just as thirst could drive one to drink of obviously tainted water, she had no choice but to fulfill a maddening drive within her.

  He rocked his hips, his arms tightening around her waist. The gait of the horse beneath them further jarred his movements. It made her scream out her pleasure, and in response, Falcon slammed her down upon his erection so that she was completely impaled by him. They cried out in unison. That secret spot deep inside her became stimulated once again. The weight of her body swallowing him up, combined with the jerky movements of the stallion’s pace and Falcon’s thrusts, all served to lift her effortlessly to the gates of heaven. Stars erupted behind her closed lids. A flutter and whoosh of wet-hot pleasure barreled through her system. She moaned in unison with Falcon when the surge overtook her to the point of delicious madness.

  “It’s—oh! I’m feeling it…again,” she whimpered.

  “Ah, Salena…” He clutched her to his chest. One hand went down to press against her ass so that he could grind her closer to draw out the last wave of his own pleasure. He panted, raining kisses over her mouth, her neck, her tingling breasts. “You don’t know what you’ve started, do you?”

  Her eyelids came open slow, almost painfully. Reality catapulted into her stomach with vengeful accuracy. That wicked, irresistible ecstasy ebbed, and in its place came a swift rush of remorse and shame. Though she remained joined to him, the sensation still pleasurable on a lesser level, she suddenly wanted to rip herself from his large manhood and run deep into the woods.

  “Started?” she echoed. “No…no.” Salena lifted herself from him, almost unseating them both. He steadied her, a wary look in his eyes. “‘Tis over, bandit. No more. This can’t…oh, God help me. I can’t continue with this madness. I demand that you return me to my brother and my home this instant!”

  She righted her clothing and managed to twist around so that her back was to him—a necessary move when the mortification at what she’d just done overtook her. The tenderness between her legs served a constant reminder of her harlot’s heart, her shattered self-control. Degradation now engulfed her. It became edged by the anger that simmered within her breast. And this ire that rushed through her system seemed more directed at herself than at her captor.

  How was it that she’d gone from a coveted innocent—with the exception of the one encounter with Thane—to a weak wanton in such a short time?

  His movements yanked her from the self-deprecating thoughts. He adjusted his garments and drew her back against his chest. The heat of his body felt so in contrast to the cold winds that whipped around them. She could feel the thud of his heart against her shoulder. It further irritated her that her own heart beat in much the same impassioned rhythm. And she wondered yet another shameful thought…how could one’s body be in such extreme moral opposition to one’s mind?

  Magic. It had to be the domination he wielded with his black magic! There had to be more to this than just a woman suddenly drowning in temptation.

  “Sorry to say, but returning you to your kin won’t be happening. At least not until I can investigate further and find out for sure who threatens your life.”

  She cackled hollowly. “Oh, such chivalry from a brigand such as yourself, Robin Hood. Kidnap a lady of the king’s court, steal from her home, take unfair advantage of her and then claim to be protecting her.” She added a snort of contempt.

  “Unfair advantage? Think what you like, my—”

  An echo in the forest behind them cut Falcon’s words short. “Sheldon! I’ve seen her,” the deep voice roared. “She rides with the bandit, Robin Hood!”

  “Sheldon!” She’d intended it to be a shout, but her voice came out in a mere whisper. The spell. She’d forgotten the sorcery in which she was forbidden to speak to or alert others. It remained upon her voice—as did the spell upon her body preventing her from fleeing. Her limbs refused to move when she ordered them to jump from the steed and run toward her brother’s search party.

  Falcon spun Warrior around so that Salena caught a glimpse of her brother through the dense foliage. His eyes blazed with fury, his fiery hair blew about his stone-cold face. She longed to run to him, to sob into his chest as he comforted her. She wanted nothing more than to go home, to collapse in her chamber and forget this brigand who had turned her world upside down. And…she wanted to marry the duke…didn’t she?

  There was no time to ponder that sudden thought. Sheldon’s men raced forward, their warhorses leaping over fallen trees, their swords swiping at dangling limbs. And she heard the bloodcurdling war cry of her angry brother just before the mayhem began.

  * * * * *

  They’d seemed to come out of nowhere. Falcon could only contribute his carelessness to the deadly charms of this woman. She’d bewitched him from that first glimpse
at the tournament, and it only seemed to have gotten worse each time his gaze settled upon her beauty. Now he found himself surrounded by the enemy, a first in his entire existence.

  “You will rot in hell, brigand!” Sheldon’s massive white stallion charged forward. He held his sword aimed, poised to kill. And there was no mistaking the gleam of murder in his eyes.

  Falcon drew his weapon. The screech of metal scraping against metal echoed through the forest. “Get behind me,” he barked to Salena.

  Salena’s body moved into obedience, though he knew by her jerky movements that she fought to defy the spell. Agile for one encumbered by a mass of skirts, she twisted, clinging to him as she moved. With his free arm, he assisted her with adept speed, and sighed when he felt her pressed safely against his back.

  “Unfortunately, sir,” Falcon shouted. “I’m allowed into neither hell nor heaven.”

  “Charge, men!” And a flurry of pounding hooves sounded.

  Falcon braced himself, quickly noting the positions of all six riders, each now drawing their swords. He whirled Warrior around so that Salena’s back faced a gap in the circle of attackers. Drawing firm on the reins, he forced his horse to backward-trot so that they entered a small clearing. Those on the outer edges spun their steeds about and charged the other direction so that they flanked Sheldon and now made a wall before Falcon rather than a circle surrounding him.

  “Ah, you think you’re so very clever,” Sheldon snarled. But the wary hesitation in his gaze didn’t go unnoticed. “Onward!” he ordered his men, suddenly halting his beast’s steps to allow his men to take to the front line ahead of him.

  The first adversary came at Falcon with careless, suicidal speed. His weapon made contact with the attacker, naught but a commoner made to do his master’s deadly bidding. He thought to bury his sword within the man’s unprotected guts, but instead, Falcon drew Warrior to the side and unseated the serf with one blow by the hilt of his sword. The man tumbled off his horse, falling senseless but alive to a soft bed of leaves.