I stumbled over brush and stone. Rain had made the peat-covered stones slippery but it hadn’t softened their assault on my legs as I staggered blindly forward. My kirtle’s hem was tattered, torn by the numerous falls I had all ready taken. I doubted it had managed to retain its emerald hue. My legs were bruised and beginning to grow leaden.
Rain pounded against my face. I hugged myself, shivering from the cold, pain gnawing at my stomach. A wave of dizziness crashed over me and I slipped again, this time, hearing the crack of bone.
Pain seared through my ankle and I let out an unwilling shriek. I attempted to regain my footing several times, but sharp jabs of pain repeatedly forced me to my knees. Nauseated with pain and hunger, I sobbed, retching in hard dry-heaves.
I don’t know how long I laid there. The rain and cold had started to numb my legs and I felt myself falling asleep. I fought to stay awake, knowing that sleep would bring death, but I no longer had the strength or the will to live.
I did not hear the soft thud of hooves against peat. I did not see the man climb down and approach me. I regained a vague consciousness at the touch of a strong arm slipping under my shoulders and lifting me into a reclined position.
I could feel myself being held tight against a strong chest. My own heart fluttered at the sound of his steady heartbeat. A rough hand made an attempt to wipe the rain soaked tendrils of hair from my face.
Wrapping a course wool cloak around me, he kissed my eyelids and finally my forehead. I was startled to hear a low moan deep in my throat. My skin seemed to burn at his touch. Something stirred in my belly that wasn’t related to the hunger.
I cried out when he lifted me. Every inch ached. He murmured soothing words I could not understand and set me upon a tall steed. The horse nickered softly, but didn’t move. Climbing astride behind me, the stranger cradled me in his arms, nudging the horse forward with a squeeze of his thighs. Strong thighs that brushed my arse with heat each time they manipulated the horse’s course.
I don’t remember the ride, or being carried from the stables to the security of stone castle walls. I was roused to consciousness by the smell of bread.
Fresh bread being pressed to my mouth. My stomach growled in anticipation and I parted my lips. The taste was exquisite, but no more than half a dozen bites had me ready to heave. Just as I started to retch, the sweet taste of mulled wine rolled across my tongue. I gulped eagerly at the warmed fluid, greatly frustrated when the cup was pulled from my lips.
“Nay lass,” said a woman’s voice, elderly and cracked. “Too much will make ye sick.”
“You s-ssp-peak… ” I stuttered.
“Aye,” came a blunt reply. “I havna the time ta speak with ye. Me Lard Fáel, the Wolf, willna be gone long. He’s ordered that none shall come near ye. Be grateful lass, that I convinced him ye needed nourishment. He hurried down ta the kitchens with special orders.”
She paused. I could hear heavy footsteps on stone coming closer.
“Swiftly lass,” she demanded. “Yer name.”
“Rose,” I muttered. My voice was dry in my throat.
She moved away. Her brittle voice bantered with a deep, smooth voice. Footsteps came closer.
“An’ lass,” she said, now much farther away. “Me Lard Fáel hasna hurt a wench when caught in the depths o’ raging lust and it isna lust in his eyes when he looks upon ye.”
A deep-throated growl of annoyance came from my side and was replied with the squeaking hinges of a closing door.
I flinched as strong, rough, fingers traced my facial features. They brushed my skin with fire. My pulse quickened, a knot forming in my stomach. I gulped air into my tightening chest. I was excited, and afraid.
I needed to see my surroundings, as well as this Lord Fáel. My eyes burned when I tried to open them. I blinked away the tears that streamed down my face, trying to wash the pain from my eyes.
His deep voice soothed. Gentle fingers slid across my wet cheeks and his palm cradled my face. His course thumb caressed my lips. I could taste the salt on it.
His arm reached under me and I was lifted. My head swam in a sea of murk, then everything went black.
Warmth surrounded me. So much like the cruel sea, yet quiet and calm. Death had claimed my family in the sea. The storm battered ship had sank, taking with it the lives of everyone I knew. Washed up on a rocky shore, with few options, I walked. I had staggered forward for so long. Had death finally Şanlıurfa Escort come to claim me, too?
A soft cloth scrubbed at my face and my eyes flew open. The firelight burned my eyes, but this time, I managed to keep them open.
I was in a deep stone tub. The water was warm, like fresh milk. It felt wonderful against my bare flesh but it had turned brown from dirt. The sensations of the water and being scrubbed were far more powerful than the shock of awaking nude.
He, Fáel, was focused on washing my tender skin, trying to scrub away the mud that had caked to it. Clean-shaven, his jaw line was squared and firm. His dark hair was cut short, with the slightest of curls neatly trimmed at his neckline. No man wore his hair so short, nor his face free of hair.
My eyes lowered to his chest. Hardly a hair on it, his nipples were hard, like small brown pebbles. I wanted to reach out and run my hand down that firm chest, lightly caressing each nipple, feeling them grow even harder under my touch. I licked my lips, with desire.
“Rós.” He exhaled my name with a slight hiss.
Looking up, I met his gaze. His eyes seemed to flicker between amber and hazel. Intensity, looking right into my soul. He knew what I was feeling. What I was longing for. And, he understood.
In silence, Fáel reached into the water near my feet. The stone tub drained quickly, leaving me exposed and starting to chill. He poured heated water over my head, rinsing both the tub and me in one swift dousing. I stared wide-eyed at him, shivering as the water ran off my skin in rivulets.
Casually, he reached down a plugged a hole in the tub with a small rag. Then, proceeded to refill the tub. My skin turned red as the hot water rose around me. The steam was fragrant and I noticed tiny petals floating in the water. Rose petals. I smiled at him and his lips curled into a pleasant grin to match.
I watched as Fáel unwrapped his plaid, baring himself to me. It was the first time since childhood that I had seen a man unclothed. My lips parted. I stared at his massive member. It jutted out thick and hard, pulsating. I wanted it. I wanted him. Fear wrapped me. He was surely too big to fit inside of me and a slight whimper escaped my lips.
He sat on the edge of the tub, even with my shoulders. He whispered soothing words and I closed my eyes. His hands ran through my long, russet hair, separating it into thin strands with his fingers. Something hard touched my skull. A real comb.
Tension left my body as he spent what felt like forever slowing combing out knots and tangles. He piled my hair high on my head and pressed the comb into it, to keep it firmly in place. Long tendrils wisped around my neck and down my shoulders. He fingered one while slowly easing himself into the tub, behind me.
His strong hands rubbed my shoulders and neck. He slowly worked on each knot, forcing the muscles to relax. His fingers worked the sensitive area where neck and shoulder meet. I grew painfully aware of the heat growing in my belly.
Moaning, I leaned back against Fáel’s chest. I could feel his penis hard against the base of my spine. Its touch, hotter than the water, shot a jolt through my gut. He lowered his mouth to my neck and my breath grew erratic. One hand ran down my collarbone, cupping my breast firmly. His thumb brushed my large nipple and my thighs parted unbidden. My tender folds exposed, I squealed. The water was indeed far cold then our flesh.
I shivered and felt his cock jerk behind me. He climbed from the tub and lifted me with ease. Wrapped in clean linen, he carried me through a small archway to another room. This room too, hard a fire burning in the hearth, but it’s light was hidden by a screen. It illuminated the bed, Fáel, and myself, leaving the walls in shadow.
He laid me gently on to a soft mound of linens and plaids, warmed from the hearth’s heat. Cradling my head, he lay beside me for several heartbeats.
His hands roamed my flesh, sending waves of fire through me. He touched every inch of me, avoiding only my swollen ankle. He was learning me. Mapping my body in his mind through his sense of touch. “Fáel.” I heard my own voice weakly speaking his name with each breath.
I felt his mouth on mine, firm and urgent. Never having kissed in such a way, I was afraid to open my mouth to his inquisitive tongue. A muscular hand begun to knead my breast, his thumb roughly flicking my nipple.
Pleasure coursed through me. Moisture pooled between my thighs. I opened my mouth in a silent gasp, only Şanlıurfa Escort Bayan to find it being probed by his hot tongue. He tasted of spiced wine, hot and exhilarating.
I sucked hungrily at his mouth, capturing his lower lip with my teeth. I felt him tense at my sudden assertiveness. I took his hand from my breast and placed it over my soft pubic mound. His fingers wormed their way between silken folds and lingered in the wetness there.
Fáel pinched the tiny exposed nub. I released his mouth is a rush of breath, screams of pleasure caught in my throat. A spasm of pleasure shot through my cunt and I writhed beneath his dancing fingers. His touch was both too much and not enough.
Placing a hand above my shoulders, he rolled over on top on me. I could feel his hard cock burning my thigh. His face grew pensive. His multicolored eyes flashed both veneration and desire.
“Rós?” It was a question. A request. An appeal.
I smiled demurely and gave a slow nod.
Fáel’s penis slid along my slit, burning the wetness there and producing more. He was moving in slow, controlled strokes, probing the very entrance of my womb. He was moving too slow.
I raised my hands to his chest, flicking both nipples with my fingernails. His cock jumped against me. The second flick brought a growl from his throat. A pinch granted me a reaction.
He reached beneath me and raising my hips to his, eased his erection into me. Meeting resistance he pulled back and pressed into me again. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Pain and pleasure both filled my senses. He pulled back again and plunged in with steady force. I let out a shrill cry.
“Luaidh,” Fáel whispered. “Mo luaidh.”
He murmured those two words repeatedly and kissed my eyes. I knew he could taste the tears that had escaped my control. He remained inside me, unmoving. Filling me with his pulsating cock, but not fulfilling his need for release.
Fáel’s gazed at me concerned. Those ever-changing eyes were haunted. Shameful and imploring. Biting his lip, he continued to hold himself immobile.
His breathing grew sharp, unsteady. With a choked moan he dropped his face to my chest. Hot tears of frustration pooled between my breasts. I felt as though I was being split in two. Not from the throbbing cock inside of me, but from the flaming desire he obviously felt. The same fevered passion I felt for him.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. Rocking in his grasp, I wrapped a leg around his waist. I dug my uninjured foot into his hip, pulling him deeper within me.
Fáel’s head lifted with surprise. I caught his face between my hands and brought his lips to mine. We kissed. Deep and intimate. Different than before, it felt as though he were kissing every part of my being, body and soul, all in that one kiss. My stomach knotted and I squirmed against him, seeking the friction that would release us both.
No more encouragement, Fáel slid slowly within me. Pulling back, so that only the soft head of his firm rod rest inside my tender canal, then plunging deep into my womb. I was amazed to feel him grow even larger as his strokes quickened. My hips raised with primitive instinct to meet his long thrusts.
My pain was washed away by a thrilling sensation when he released my hips to their own rhythm and reached between us. His knowledgeable fingers rolled, pinched and flicked my hard clit.
I screamed when the first spasms hit. A wave of overwhelming rapture burned through me, sending lightning into my finger and toes.
Fáel moaned, my cunt clenching tight around his shaft. Driving into me deep and hard, he held me so tight I could barely breathe as he reached his own climax. His seed spurted into me like fire, sending me into another onslaught of spasms. My orgasm was so intense I felt weak as if from too much wine.
Falling limp to the linen covered bed he continued to stroke my face and kiss my lips. I fell asleep secure in his arms.
I awoke to dawn. Thin rays of golden light angled across the room from a high window. The rain had lifted and fears set through me.
Would I then be turned out, left alone again? With no ship to take me back to a home that died with my family at sea? Or would I board a ship bound for a home I’d never known, to marry my betrothed, a man I’d never met?
“Lass?” It was the elderly woman from before.
She kneeled on the other side of Fáel, her face hidden in shadow.
“Am I to leave so soon?” I asked.
At my side, Fáel still slept. Escort Şanlıurfa His breathing was deep and regular. His features softened by deep sated sleep. My breasts tightened at the sight of his soft lips, pursed slightly beneath his aquiline nose.
The woman cackled. “Rose me darlin’, the Wolf has stated his intentions toward marriage.”
My heart leapt within me. My breath caught in my throat.
“If ye agree, let him know.” And she was gone. Not even the squeak of hinges sounded her passing.
I was reaching to wake Fáel when I saw a platter of bread and cheese on the other side of him. A kind woman to leave such a light meal for my neglected belly. My stomach growled.
Leaning across his bare chest, my breasts brushed his nipples. He stirred, but did not wake. I curled against his side, chewing agreeably. Soon I was in a light sleep, my hand gliding in dreamy circles over his chest. My palm caressed his smooth chest. My fingers lingered on his turgid nipples, grazing them with my fingernails.
Fáel moaned and rolled toward me. I came full awake and tried to jerk my hand away. His calloused hand caught mine in less than half a breath. His lips, seemingly pliant just moments earlier, now curled into a roguish grin. My heart leapt in my chest.
He held my hand, small and delicate beneath his, to his chest. His heart fluttered beneath my palm. His free hand lifted my chin and I met those variegated eyes with my own hope filled mahoganies. They looked at me with reverence. It was as if I was falling from a cliff and the ground beneath me was concealed by mist.
“Rós,” Fáel said, running is thumb over my lips. “Mo luaidh.”
“Mo luaidh,” I whispered. I did not need a concise translation to know the meaning behind the words. A term of affection. An endearment. My acceptance to his proposal.
Fáel drew my hand away from his chest, guiding it down his abdomen to his groin. I could feel my cheeks flush with heat as he wrapped my firm around his stiffening shaft.
Pulling the linen aside I sunk lower in the bed for a better view. A woman was not supposed to be with a man in this way. It was said to be deviant behavior, but it felt perfectly natural.
I watched riveted, as my hand stroked his cock slowly from base to tip. Its head was almost free from its protective skin. Muscle swelled beneath my fingertips and the skin grew smooth and taught. With my other hand I grasped his testes. The sac, with its course dark hair, was still wrinkled. I gave a gentle squeeze.
Fáel gasped. His hands stroked through my hair, but he was granting me total control.
The mere sight of his penis growing harder at my fingertips was awing. The added sensations: his testicles tightening in my hand, his masculine aroma, his ragged breathing. It was too much for me to bear. I hesitated for a heartbeat. Licked my lips. Then, moved to do an act that only a whore would perform.
My lips stretched over his thick member. He tasted sweet, ardent. My tongue rolled along the underside, pausing to press hard into the pulsing vein at the base. He was so long and thick, I started to gag. My throat constricting involuntarily around his exposed head. He squirmed in my mouth, pulling his hips away. Leaving my mouth abandoned.
“Rós.” Fáel’s voice was sharp and edged with tension.
I looked up at him, questioningly. He was shaking his head, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Sweat beaded along his forehead. His mouth was open, sucking in quick breaths. His chest rose and fell sharply.
I squeezed his sac in my hand and smiled sheepishly. Proper or not, I wanted to taste him. To bring him release. I needed to make love to him and I was too sore to make love with him any other way.
I forcefully took Fáel’s cock back into my mouth. I took him in deep and suckled eagerly. Dry-swallowing around his cock head prevented further gagging. Swirling my tongue around, I moved him in and out of my mouth. I would pull off until only the very tip of his penis remained trapped between my lips. Then I’d take in his full length and give his sac a firm tug and squeeze.
The fifth time I started to repeated the pattern; he pressed his pelvic hard into my face. Semen pooled in the back of my throat, forcing my to swallow. He spurted several times and I continued to suckle every drop until his cock was flaccid in my mouth. The taste was amazing, sweet and salty at the same time.
I was licking my lips when Fáel pulled me back up to the center of the bed. He kissed me deeply, knowing he’d taste himself on my lips. He kissed my eyes and my forehead before pressing me tight to his chest.
I fell asleep with his hands caressing my hair and face, filled with the knowledge that I was no longer lost. I was home.
Author’s Note: It is my understanding that Luaidh means beloved.