A Sinless Betrayal by Cherie Benjamin (most romantic novels TXT) 📕

I finish hanging the clothes on the clothesline.

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I sit with my wine in my hand, sipping it graciously from time to time. It's midday and Abigor's sleeping naked in his bed. He's locked the door, so I have no possible way of getting out to do something actually productive.

He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. His hair is fanned out on the pillows around him. His muscles bunch and jump when he jerks in his sleep slightly. Things are running about my mind since I've nothing to do but sit there, drink, and think about some things. They are questions that I find unanswered.

I want to ask why he showed me such kindness on the first night we met while the other men treated me like scum, dirt on the bottoms of the soles of their feet. I want to ask why he told me to go sit on his brother's lap only to be fondled and choked in front of the whole entire dining table, why he said nothing until I confronted him.

I want to ask him why he showed concern for me until my nails found my skin, and why his face fell like rain from heavy clouds when I began to cry over it.

I want to ask why he would cut out his own soldier's heart for the lowly whore that was supposed to be pleasing him but wasn't…why he found it easier to hold his fist to his own brother's face instead of letting Iron Coyote rape me.

I want to ask Michelle when she fell in love with Drinks of Waterfall and if she knew, or really could have known her own heart before he gave her his. Instead, I lean back in the chair and let the wind blow in from the window, hoping that it would whisper to me the answers he never says.

I sip more of my wine, my dizzy spell intensifying. I want to ask all the characters in the books I've read if the hero ever got bored of his lover once evil vanquished and rode off into the sunset alone, without looking back.

I want to ask him why he has any right to scale the perimeters of the steps I took while locked up in my tower when it was he, himself who put me there. I want to ask him why he has any right to make me feel this way when he was the one that trapped me with his kind smile and gentle touch.

I want to ask him if the wine has the power to reveal the hearts of boys and men and if it could tell me as much as the scars on his back or the look in his eyes when he speaks so gloriously of the ones he's lost.

I want to ask him why he made the claim speech with my rapist's heart in his hand only to turn around and fuck another woman…why he even cares about a mousy young commoner girl that's supposed to be a whore, out there for everybody to sample like a sweet dessert served up on a golden plate.

I want to ask him why he gave me the topaz necklace (the great trophy) when he could have given it to any other woman in the world (or the many eligible beauties lusting after him) instead of me.

But instead, I sit back and continue to call him a barbarian, a bandit, and thief. And when he asks me what he's stolen, it's never the truth. I always have some feeble list that goes on and on about his wrong-doings, the jewels, the furniture, the paintings, and the lives he's stolen…but I've forgotten the most important thing.

What truly makes him a thief is that he's stolen something of mine. Something so guarded and kept away that one would have to be a true mastermind to steal it.

My heart.

And with that, I decided that I love Abigor, ruthless king of the barbarians, great thief of kingdoms far and wide, and slayer of men. I touch the topaz sitting around my neck. It is the great trophy, the one that I have long awaited.

He stirs in his bed. "Love…Eliza," he mumbles in his sleep. I gasp, my hand flying over my fluttering heart. There's my answer. He does love me. And in my daydream earlier in the morning, I remember what my married friend Mrs Smythe told me about love. She said not to commit myself to a man unless I truly loved him.

Do I love Dances With Wolves, the great king?

Yes. I do.

And I after I decided I loved that man? She said that I would be able to fully give myself to him, body and soul. I stand from my seat and take off my clothes until I am as naked as the day I was born.

Abigor's tossing and turning in his sleep. He tosses and turns so much that he sits completely upright in the bed, having had woken himself up. His eyes catch the sight of my body as the terrified brown colour melts into a molten black, one that's filled to the brim with lust.

"What are you doing?" he breathes softly, hands roaming over linen sheets to unsheathe himself from beneath the covers of his bed.

What am I doing? "I've made a decision," I tell him. "It's about you and me."

His teeth grit together and he clutches the blankets tighter. "Do not tempt me, vixen," he warns. "You don't want to take that step, but yet you stand there before me in all your womanly glory looking so utterly… within reach."

I nod my head, my curls tumbling and bouncing about my shoulders. "That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. I think I do want to take that step. You said that you wouldn't touch me unless I was truly ready. I'm ready now."

He gets out of bed, revealing to me the obvious erection beneath his breechcloth. "Are you?" he asks softly, temptingly. I nod my head and place one hand on his chiselled stomach, right above the head of his erection. With a quick and startled intake of breath, he looks down at me with his lustful eyes. He leans down close to my ear, his lips grazing my cheek. "Because once I start, I cannot will myself to stop."

I tilt my head back, allowing him to kiss along the arch of my neck. "You will make love to me," I state, my voice husky with wanting. My southern regions flare dangerously and I desperately feel the need to press myself up against his hard body. "You will not fuck another woman, and you will not see another whore. I shall not…tolerate it."

I moan when his warm hand finds my breasts and squeezes them softly. "Good girl," his deep bass rumbles in my ear. "Claim me as your own as I have claimed you. Give me your body as I will give you mine."

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. His lips take mine, his tongue plunging into mine, delving into crevices unknown before. My hands roam down his back and dig into his muscled buttocks, slamming his pelvic region into mine. I'm a virgin, but I know what I want, and where I want it.

The pleasure-pain swirling in my veins is getting almost unbearable. I want to be filled, impaled, and have the sense of being whole again. We make our way over to the bed and he throws me onto the covers with a fierce passion he's never displayed before. It's nothing compared to how rough he was with Athenodora, but the animalistic look in his eye scares me a little.

"I'm here, my tigress." Abigor's deep, smooth bass flows through my ears like sweet honey. He slips a hand between our bodies and touches me where my want is most prominent. I throw my head back and cry out.

"Oh please!"

He brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks the nectar off of them. His lips glistened with my wetness. He's tasted me again. "You are so wet," he murmurs, diving back down to kiss my neck. He lifts his knee between my legs to momentarily satisfy the ache. "So ready for me."

My wetness paints his knee as I writhe against him. Soft skin against hard muscles. Heavy breathing, partially lidded eyes, lips all over. "Oh, Abigor."

His erection stands so tall that it almost hits his stomach. It is impressive when soft, but when excited it is even more impressive if that is even possible. He jerks himself a few times, never breaking eye contact with me. "Think of the pleasure I shall bring you," he whispers to me. "Think of me inside of you, dragging fire throughout your veins, making you call out my name so sweetly. Are you?"

His knee moves again, touching against a very heated spot. I cry out again, my back arching, thrusting my breasts into the air. He grabs them, his lips kissing the nipples before leaning back again. "Yes!" I cry out. "I am; I am thinking of it."

His hands grab my waist more firmly and he pulls me against him tightly, letting his cock touch my mound for the very first time. It sends electric shocks through both of our bodies. "And are you ready for me?" he asks, his voice laden with lust and need and desire.

"My mother always said it would hurt," I whisper.

Abigor looks at my face and slowly nods his head. "It will hurt for a few seconds, but I promise you, my love, I will make you feel so good."

I smile and reach up to grab his face in my hands. "And you will make love to me?"

He nods so surely. "I will make love to you until the sun shines no longer and the stars and moon are riding high into the sky."

I find his hand slithering its way over to grab mine. He holds my hand as he positions his cock at my virgin entrance, his body shaking with anticipation. He looks into my eyes, reaching down and grabbing the back of my neck with his free hand.

I'm afraid, but I know that I want this as much as he does. I glance down as the tip of his cock pushes through the tight hole. He fights to keep his control. My eyes are wild. "No," he scolds me, tilting my head up to his. "Look at me. Only me."

I look at him, only him, and take a deep breath.

"Good," he whispers. "Never take your eyes from mine. Know that love comes in from the eyes. Know that I already love you, Tiger Claw."

I nod my head. "And I you, Dances With Wolves."

And that is all the encouragement he needs.

Prey

I feel the tearing inside of me as he pushes through my virginal barrier and sheathes himself in me until the tip of his cock hits my cervix. I cry out in shock and try to bury my face in his shoulder. He keeps his hand under my chin, his eyes never off of my mine. "Look at me, Elizabella. Look at me until the pain washes away." I look into his eyes.

It's done. I'm no longer a virgin because…because I gave my virginity to