Seduced by the Beast (10 page)

            The door opened
and Raphael stepped inside, closing it behind him with a finality that
tightened her nerves.  He leaned back against the wood paneling, crossing his
arms over his chest, looking pleased.  A slow smile curled his lips as he
caught sight of her across the wide space and dragged his gaze down her body.

            She’d bathed the
dirt of travel off and changed into a gown Ashanti had lent her.  If anything,
the loose robes that covered her with no peep of skin showing save her head,
hands and feet only seemed to incite him further. 

            How she could be
so covered and still entice his gaze, she didn’t know.  She suspected it was
merely his sexual appetite that held him enamored to her.  Or the chase, as
Ashanti had alluded.

            Swan’s skin
tingled beneath the garment as if caressed by his leisurely appraisal.  Hier
nipples tightened like he’d brushed a palm against them and her belly quivered
with raw need that she refused to acknowledge.  She gritted her teeth to
control her response, incensed at herself and his bold perusal.

            “What makes you
smile so?” Swan asked tightly.

            Again he answered
with that slow, lazy smile that set her nerves on edge.  No man should look so
enticing.  That he stood with his body on display for her eyes made her teeth
grit.  Carelessly, she’d looked him over and found him mightily enticing, from
the broad width of his shoulders, the strange markings on his bronze skin. 
Idly, she wondered how their bodies would look tangled together, how his
manhood would appear disappearing inside her dark nether lips.

            She flushed
hotly, wondering at the turn of her thoughts.

            He took a step
forward, looking predatory, his eyes gleaming.  “Mayhap your continued
demureness, hiding behind that bed as if it would protect your purity, which we
both know does not exist.  I rather thought to find you lying in it, awaiting
my pleasure.”

            He baited her, of
that, she was certain.  To what purpose, she didn’t know.  Her eyes narrowed. 
She’d been in a foul mood ever since she discovered she was to share his room
... and his bed.  If she hadn’t known better, she would have surmised the lord
and lady of the house deliberately set out to provoke a relationship between
them rather than for the protection she’d been told she needed.  “Your
assumption is wrong.  Lady Ashanti and I talked.”

            He arched one
black brow.  “Oh?”

            “I know what you
expect.  What other reason could there be in placing me in your room when there
are doubtless many others to be had?”

            “Perhaps you were
put here for your protection?  It is a castle, yes, but not impregnable. 
Enemies are always to be had within when you least expect it.  And there are
not many women to be had as desirable as you.”

            “Ha!”  She
laughed derisively, dismayed to hear him echo her thoughts.  “And what of this
... this bed....”  She could hardly look at it without her body heating
uncomfortably, without imagining being tangled in its covers, covered by a hard
male body, Raph--

            He continued
grinning, wolfish as his look encompassed the decadent barrier between them. 
“I assure you, there is nothing quite like the feel of such finery beneath you
when making love.”

            She glared at
him.  “That will never happen.”

            A long moment
passed between them.  He stepped from the door, gestured with a sweeping wave
of his arm for her leave.  “Go then, if my company is so undesirable.  Choose
another, but be warned, you may not enjoy the welcome you receive.”

            Swan made no move
to withdraw, could only watch him warily.  She couldn’t help but feel she was
over-reacting, yet she’d been cornered into a fight of which she had no
understanding.  To give in to a man’s whims without a fight was beyond her. 
She’d been raised to resist their baser instincts—and her own.  To go against
years of training herself within inches of a desirable man seemed ludicrous and
contrary.

            His black eyes
glittered dangerously as she remained still, watchful.  With his hair loose
around his shoulders, he looked very much the savage of old lore.  Her fingers
itched to run through those silky locks.

            “Better the beast
you know, my lady?” Raphael said.

            Yes, but she had
tempted that beast before ... with results that melted her core and turned her
knees to water.  Remembered passion and pleasure assailed her.  They were
weakness she could not embrace.  She couldn’t fathom why his presence disturbed
her so much, why being near him made her heart stop and yet beat faster.  She
liked not the dizzying rush he aroused, the loss of control he invoked.

            Swan swallowed,
moistened her suddenly parched lips with her tongue.  His gaze seized on her
mouth.  Her heart skipped a beat, then pumped furiously to recover.  She
stilled, her voice strangely hoarse.  “I’ll not give you what you want.”

            Raphael advanced,
consuming the safety of her circle with his aura, blocking all avenue of
escape.  “Of what do you speak?  Afraid to voice such forbidden desires?” he
asked, his voice a deep rumble that raised the fine hairs on her skin.

            Swan held her
ground, straightened her shoulders, strengthened her resolve to remain calm. 
“No.”

            He halted, the
wide bed offering little restraint.  She’d fooled herself to think it would
keep him from her.  He was a beastman--there could be no escape.  Her muscles
tensed with his proximity.

            “Then what?” he
asked silkily.

            “My talk spurs
you toward greater gall.  If I had more sense, I would keep my mouth closed.”

            Raphael’s voice
dropped.  “I could think of ways to keep it occupied.  You’d have no time for
talking....”

            Shivers skated
over her flesh, trailing chill bumps in their wake.  “You think only of one
thing.”

            He moved around
the bed.  Swan took a step back.  “I’m inclined to agree with you.”  Raphael
sighed heavily at her wary look, leaned against the carved bedpost.  “Swan,
delightful as this game is, I needs must forego such play for more important
matters.”

            “What do you
mean?” she asked, slanting him a suspicious look.

            “I will be frank
with you since it seems that is the only way to gain your acceptance.  I must
mark you with my scent.  It is not enough to touch you.  My seed must rest
within your belly.”  He watched as she edged further away.  “My hand is
forced.”

            It was
unthinkable that he sought to assuage himself by denying guilt.  “As mine is? 
I did not ask to come to this place.”

            “But you wanted
my help, and I intend to give it.  Now I offer my protection from penetration
and hurt by another.”

            Swan laughed mirthlessly,
a stranger to herself, thoughts of honor and nobility fleeing before her
anger.  “You wish only to satisfy your lusts.”  Oddly, the thought of being
nothing more than a tool for his desire hurt.  It should not be so important to
her.  Women more often than not were subjugated to worse--she was no different
here.

            “I offer a mark
that leaves no permanence.  If you wish to survive, it will be done.”

            Swan shuddered
with the mental imagery, remembrance sharply defined as she recalled the
ravenous looks she’d received since coming.  She realized in that moment he was
right, but just because he was did not mean she enjoyed that fact.  Her
experiences since Morvere attacked balled into a mass of flaming anger.  Some
demon stoked the fury in her soul, urging her to folly.

            Defiant and
seething, Swan placed her palms on the bed, bent over it like a supplicant. 
Her hair parted around her shoulders, pooling on the satin.  Refusing to meet
his eyes, she said, “Do it and be done.”

            “You sorely test
me, Swan.”  Raphael bit off each word, his voice deadly soft.

            Menace resonated
from him.  She’d gone too far, but there was no stopping now.  He’d seen to it
that she would go through with her actions.  She was not one to back down in
cowardice and didn’t believe, despite his veiled threat, that he would harm
her, else she would never have dared such boldness.

            She didn’t know
what drove her to push him, to test his limits.  But Shadowmere’s very
deviance, its savage people and customs grated.  She’d be damned if she would
relent without a fight.  An insane urge struck her, caused her to blurt out in
taunting fashion, “Is this not the way of animals?”

            He roared, a
sound of such agony and rage it rent her soul.  She jerked her head up, felt
her body freeze.  Anger burned in his eyes, in the heavy slant of his brows. 
He shuddered, overcome, muscles jumping with tension as his eyes bled from cold
black to fiery gold in an instant.

            “If this is how
you wish it, so be it.  You go too far with your tautns,” he gritted out, voice
pained.

            Raphael ripped
his kurt away, throwing it to the floor.  His erection jutted forth from the
thatch of dark hair at its base, swollen with anger and lust.  His shaft’s
length and breadth were enormous, a weapon should he so choose.

            It was small
wonder her sex had ached from his rough possession.  She shrank inside as she
watched him round the bed and move toward her, knowing full well she could not
go through with this now, not after meeting the haunted look in his eyes.  Her
childish, goading bravado vanished.

            She knew she was
an idiot and immediately regretted taunting him.

            Swan lunged
across the bed, desperate for escape, knees and hands sliding in her frenzy. 
He caught her in the middle, grabbed her ankles and pulled her back to the edge
until she knelt on the floor with her chest pressed flat on the bed.  With her
hair in her eyes, she clutched at the satin, her hands slipping in the silken
finery, unable to pull herself to freedom.

            Rending cloth
greeted her ears, followed by the soft caress of air on her naked flesh.  He’d
bared her completely with so little effort, it was frightening.

            Swan struggled as
he bent, his skin scorching as he cradled his form against her, muscles molding
to her back, his hips hard against her tender buttocks.  He pinned her flailing
arms to the silken bed, manacling them in one hand as his shaft nestled in the
cleft of her buttocks.  The lips of her sex moistened with his nearness,
spurring her ferocity.

            Swan growled, but
could do nothing but shout obscenities.  He’d secured her beneath him, so that
she could not move unless he willed it.

            Raphael lay still
a moment on top of her, letting her feel the weight and power of his
domination.

            A weakness
pervaded her body at being his submissive.  She should not have wanted this,
but her cunt secretly thrilled at his rough aggression, flooding with juices to
ease his passage inside her.  Her lower belly spasmed, clenching in response.  Perhaps
that’s what she’d wanted all along, for him to lose his control and take it
from her so that she could feel no guilt in wanting his full possession.

            She was a
shameful wanton and unable to admit her own desire.  Unable to admit that she
craved him, rough and powerful, angry and dominant.

            He buried his
face in her hair, breathing deeply, expelling it in a hot rush against her neck
that made her blood beat faster.  With one hand, he pushed the mass aside,
nuzzled her neck, shuddering against her as he drew a heavy breath.  “I want to
give you pleasure, Swan, gentleness,” he murmured near her ear.  “Why will you
not allow it?”  He dragged his hot mouth down her neck, branding her skin.  He nipped
her shoulder when she did not answer.

            Swan trembled,
desire warring with reluctance.  He sucked the curve of her neck, rubbing his tongue
against her, weakening her resistance.

            Gentleness and
sweet words tendered the heart.  She’d been deceived by sweetness before, had
been ripped asunder by the betrayal that followed her submission.  To allow a
man to touch her heart was unthinkable.  To allow a beastman was death.  There
could never be anything but the fire of need between them--she could allow
nothing else.  Anything else would destroy the last shreds of her soul.

            Were he to take
her gently, with love, she did not think she could survive it.

            To continue
resistance could be just as detrimental.  There was but one choice she could
make.  “I’ll not fight you, on one condition,” she said, muffled by the bed.

            He ceased his
perusal of her neck.  “Yes?”

            “Do not ... kiss
me.”  A kiss was too intimate, too impossible to ignore.  Some said souls
crossed and mated when mouths joined as one.  True or not, it weakened her
resolve to remain aloof.  It was a risk she could not endure again--not from
him.