To Have and to Hold (36 page)

Suddenly she was
sick and tired of having men dictate her life for her.
 
Of a woman of five and twenty with enough
wealth to live in luxury for the remainder of her life, she was not going to
allow men to control her life any more.
 
Even the man who held her heart.

She resisted the
urge to look behind her, to see if he had actually left her alone.
 
She had her answer when she had taken no more
than ten steps deeper into the woods, only to be spun around by his hard grip
on her elbow.

“Damn you to
hell,” He snarled as he grabbed the back of her head to hold her still as he
slammed his mouth down upon hers.

Temper raging,
Isobel met the hot plunge of his tongue without fear or trepidation.
 
His hard lips pushed, raged against hers,
demanding until she succumbed.
 
Plundering until she acceded, but she refused to give in to his
masculine strength.
 
In return she
grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down, deepening the kiss and
drawing the soft mounds of her breasts tighter against his chest.
 

She was swamped
with inner feminine delight at the control and power she had over this man as
she felt his hands grasp her buttocks roughly through the harsh material of her
long trousers.
 
Even through the thick
woollen cloak, she could feel the hard ridge of his manhood waiting to be set
free. Isobel’s hands swept boldly under his cloak, her fingers scored down his
back as she swallowed his answering groan with feminine arrogance.
 

She was
oblivious to the cold air that shimmered over her exposed skin as Dominic tore
at the laces on her borrowed shirt. Tipping her head back, she gasped as his
teeth scored her neck as he gently bit and laved his way down to her
collarbone.
 

“Take this off
now!”
 
Dominic growled, his voice ringing
harshly in the night air as he tugged at the tight bindings shielding her
breasts.
 

Dutifully
releasing the ends of the folded cloth, within seconds her breasts were bared
to the cold night air as a nipple was tugged into his hot mouth.
  

Emboldened
Isobel tore at the laces of his shirt, rewarded by the tearing of the material
of his shirt as the broad expanse of his chest was exposed to the
moonlight.
 
Greedily she ran both hands
down from his shoulders, across rigid muscle.
 
Her fingers speared through the soft mat of chest hair on their
meandering path downwards.
 

She gasped in
protest as her hands were roughly pulled away and she was tugged down onto the
floor.
 
Instinctively she made to lie on
her back, unsure how he was planning to divest them of their clothing only to
find him rolling her over.
 
The catch on
her cloak was released and it fell to the floor creating a soft carpet beneath
her breasts as he spread her legs, dropping down to kneel between them.
 

Unsure how he
was going to make love to her when she had long trousers on, and how he was
going to get around the clothing, Isobel moaned with delight when within
seconds cold air swept over her buttocks as her trousers were tugged down to
her knees.
 
Hips raised the cold air
sweeping over her naked flesh was quickly replaced by his warmth as he slid the
rigid shaft of his erection into her raised hips.
 
Her gasp of delight muffled by the soft folds
of the cloak beneath her head, she was helpless as he held her hips high. The
hard ridge of his erection plunged into her from behind.
 
His strong hands held onto her breasts, long
fingers tugging and pulling at the turgid peaks of her nipples.
 

Answering heat
pooled low in her loins as she was rhythmically impaled by his rough
possession.
 
This was no soft and gentle
lovemaking.
 
This was a mating of
souls.
 
A conflict of determined wills
between two strong people who each refused to accede.
 
Inwardly, she was delighted her warrior had
chosen to come after her.
 
Despite his
anger, he still wanted her.

Isobel moaned
low in her throat as spears of white hot tension tightened deep within her
feminine core.
 
Relentless in his
domination of her, Isobel was unable to do anything but clutch at the pools of
material around her as her climax built to unbearable heights.
  
Fists balled, her body jerked and jarred as
he took possession. His questing hands accepting no barrier as they swept down
her sides pausing only briefly at her waist before gripping her hips again
pushing her soft breasts into the wool fabric again and again, heightening the
sensations roiling through her as the sensitive peaks of her nipples brushed
the coarse fabric.

 
Unable to bear the tension a moment longer, Isobel
gave herself over to wave after wave of pulsing pleasure as her climax swept
through her.
 
Head thrown back, her body
tightened and pulsed around the man behind her as her body gave way to the
demands of her release.
 

Moments later,
her climax still rippling softly through her, Isobel gasped and writhed as he
continued to relentlessly plunge his heat into her.
 
Nipples painfully tight, reluctantly she
eased herself forwards and rolled to one side, holding his hands away from her
when he moved to repossess her.
 

Silently she
eased to her knees, pushing at his shoulders until he was lying on his back
upon the floor.
 
Easing one leg out of
her trousers, Isobel eyed the turgid length of his manhood as it stood erect
and proud in the moonlight.
 
Eyeing him
wickedly, brazenly emboldened by the night’s events, she slowly ran her tongue
from tip to base.
 
His manhood twitched
and jerked against her ministrations, tempting her further.
 
As he had shown her, she slowly took him into
her mouth suckling him deep.
  

“Stop!”
 
Dominic moaned sliding his hands into her
hair and tugging her head upwards and away from him.
 
Already his shaft was painful from having
gone from the warmth of her into the night air.
 
He couldn’t withstand her suckling him.
 
Nerves already stretched taught, Dominic clenched his jaw and watched as
his beautiful, frustrating wife carefully straddled him.
 
Hair cascading around her shoulders in a
silken cloud she was a pagan goddess, sent to draw him into temptation.
 

Slowly she
impaled herself upon him, her head thrown back as she slid downwards.
 
Nipples peaked and pointing upwards, her
nakedness bathed in silvery moonlight etched an image on Dominic’s mind that he
knew would stay with him for the remainder of his days.
 
He lay in stunned amazement as his sensual
creature began to ride him with a skill he hadn’t encountered before, even with
the most experienced mistress.
 
Nerves
already stretched taught, it was all Dominic could do not to slam her down onto
her back and ride her hard and fast until he found release.
 

Teeth clenched
he felt the inner sheath of his wife clench tighter around him and he knew he
was lost.
 
Grasping her rocking hips,
Dominic plunged upwards into her.
 
Back
arched his bared teeth shone white in the midnight air as his climax slammed
through him with stunning force.
 
As
release plundered his senses, Dominic watched his Pagan witch as she ran her
fingers through the hair on his chest, seeking and teasing his nipples
heightening his satisfaction painfully.
 

“You witch!”
 
Dominic chided moments later, chest
heaving.
 

Isobel slowly
eased off him and rolled to lie beside him.
 
Heart thumping, her body cooled rapidly as she lay staring up into the
canopy of the trees shielding them from the night sky.
 
A sense of unease slowly rippled through her
as Dominic made no effort to embrace her and instead lay motionless beside her
only a few moments before standing to straighten his clothes.
 

Not comfortable
being at a vulnerable disadvantage Isobel quickly straightened her own clothes,
aware of the pool of dampness between her legs.
 
Shaking her head at being unable to deal with her toilette, she knew she
would be uncomfortable by the time they did get back to
Tavistock
,
but couldn’t prevent a little thrill of delight that swept through her at the
unbridled passion between them.
 

Determined to
ignore his grumpiness, Isobel boldly marched over to him, ignoring his glower
as she tugged his head down for a kiss.
 
“Thank you.” She murmured nipping his bottom lip.

She watched with
inner satisfaction as he quirked an eyebrow at her and looked at her
warily.
 
“For what?”
 

“For allowing me
to try something I have wanted to do for some time.”
 
Instinctively Dominic shot a dark look at the
looming presence of the house before Isobel turned his chin back towards
her.
 

“Not that.
 
That I still have to do.”
 
Ignoring his put upon sigh she continued.
“Did it hurt?”

“Did what
hurt?”
 
Dominic’s brows slammed down as
he carefully removed her hand.

“When
I tasted you.”
She knew she was provoking him, but a wicked side to her was newly released and
she didn’t want to give it up just yet.

“No!”
 
Dominic snapped before shifting
uncomfortably, clearly unsure of this new, more daring side to his wife.

“Can I do it
again?”
 
Isobel murmured dropping a quick
kiss upon his chin when he wouldn’t relent enough to bend down and kiss
her.
 
Clearly, he was still very angry
with her.
 

“God,
woman!”
 
Dominic murmured shaking his head. Inwardly
he was still seething.
 
He was hoping
that making love would be enough to divert her and she would want to go home to
a nice warm bed.
 
He was annoyed that she
was still adamant she was going to go through with her stupid scheme.
 
He wanted to slam a fist into a tree.

Dominic sighed
deeply, and glared at his wife. “If you live that long,” he growled with a
scowl.
 
“If you plan to go in there, do
you have any idea what they will do to you if you get caught?”
 
He knew he didn’t have to remind her of the
beating he took.
 
   
“Death would be the easy way out, darling.”

If love making,
cold and his anger weren’t enough to deter her, then he would have to take the
harsh option.
 
“Sex like we just had
would be easy by comparison.
 
There were,
at Peter’s last count, four inside the house.”
 
He nodded brusquely across the gardens to the looming menace of Rupert’s
house.
 
Isobel paused, her back towards
Dominic as she stared out across the grounds towards the hulking menace of the
house.
 
Silence settled between them for
several minutes as she stood in silent contemplation.
 
Her voice was a mere whisper but was carried
on the gentle night air.
 
Being in the
shelter of the trees, with the relatively anonymity of the darkness of the
night gave her the strength to voice her thoughts.

“He beat
me.
 
You know that.”
 
Isobel’s voice was cold and flat.
 
Dominic moved forwards until he was standing
directly behind her.
 
He wanted to place
his hands upon her shoulders and pull her into his arms, but a warning voice
inside urged him to allow her to speak.

“The last time
he beat me, he just didn’t stop.
 
It was
a week after he told me that you had married another and was already setting up
your nursery.
 
I said it couldn’t be
possible, but if it was I was only happy that you had found somebody you wanted
to spend the rest of your life with. Obviously it wasn’t the answer he was
looking for, because he hit me repeatedly until I fell to the ground.”
 
Tears pooled in her eyes.
 
Strangely she could remember the blows, but
not the pain.
 
Eyes staring sightlessly
out at nothing, Isobel continued as though recounting a story from a book.

“Something
inside me broke.
 
I don’t know what.
 
He had already told me Peter had died the
night I had my first beating.
 
But when
he told me about you, all doors suddenly closed on me and I had nowhere to
go.
 
I lay curled up on the floor as he
kicked me, and I knew that if I didn’t leave and take every risk to leave, then
I would die, if not at Rupert’s hands, then at
DeLisle’s
.”