Chapter 10
Violet showed Alexander the small gate, hidden behind a screen of ivy, that gave egress from the garden into the alleyway beyond. Alexander had chuckled as she held back the ivy to allow him to leave through the gate.
“Had I known this was here I could have spared myself some effort,” he said.
He had left and Violet closed the gate behind him, pushing the rusty bolt into place and allowing the ivy to fall back across it.
She looked towards the lights of the house and considered returning.
But something stopped her. The night air was chilly, making her shiver, but she was reluctant to step back inside.
It felt as though the meeting with Alexander had been an adventure, something out of the romantic fiction she enjoyed reading.
A handsome and dashing hero, allowing no barrier to stand between him and the woman he loved.
Not that he loves me of course. Nor I him. That would be ridiculous. Our relationship is one of convenience. A transaction only.
And yet she was in no hurry to turn the page, leave this chapter behind and return to normality.
Instead, she walked slowly back to the lodge and closed the door.
In one corner was a small wooden chest. Within was a woolen blanket and some plump cushions.
Usually, they would not be taken out except in the height of summer.
Now though, she spread the cushions on the wooden floor, picked up the book, and drew the blanket about herself.
Snug and warm within the nest she had made for herself, she opened the book at the page she had marked with a sliver of paper.
I will read for a while until I begin to feel tired. That will be the time to return to the house. I will savor the adventure for just a little while longer…
She read by the flickering lamplight for a while until her eyes began to feel heavy. Contrary to her own decision, she allowed sleep to sweep over her.
Violet fled through the dark, stone passageway.
Her dress was ripped where the cruel hands of her captors had tried to tear it from her body.
They had not expected their prisoner to have the nerve to fight back.
The knife she clutched in her hand was stained with their blood.
Harsh voices rose from somewhere beneath her.
Her lungs burned and the muscles of her legs ached.
How long had she been running for? It was futile, this castle was known intimately to her captors. She did not know it at all.
They were chasing her ever upwards and the passageways were becoming shorter with each floor she ascended, her room to run reducing.
They were cornering her. There was no way out.
Ahead, appeared a staircase, spiraling up and down.
She halted at the threshold, peering upwards and then downwards.
There was firelight down there and shadows of grotesque shapes.
Her pursuers were down there while there was nothing above but darkness.
Bare feet slapping against the stone, she scrambled upwards as the noise of her pursuers came closer.
Then she reached the end of her flight. A room with narrow windows and no exit.
Dashing to the nearest window, she looked out over a night-shrouded landscape.
The room in which she was now cornered was many many feet high up in the air, clearly at the summit of a tower.
The voices behind her now sounded triumphant, realizing that the chase was over. But only briefly.
A new sound reached her. Yells of victory became shrieks of terror.
The terrible clash of steel against steel reached her ears.
Then, one by one, the harsh voices fell silent.
And there was only the steady tread of a single person ascending the stairs to her.
Alexander stepped into the room, his armor dented and bloody.
A battered shield was strapped to one mailed arm and a broadsword was held in the other.
Sweat covered his forehead, plastering his hair back.
His dark eyes swept the room, searching for enemies. Then they fell upon her.
“Violet, my love!” He cried.
Sword fell from his hand and as he strode across the room to her, he wrenched the shield from his forearm.
Tears of joy flooded Violet’s eyes as she rushed to her savior, falling to her knees as she reached him.
He was there before her, strong arms going around her and his lips finding hers.
Awareness fled except for the sensations that came from him.
She felt his lips against hers, warm and firm.
His embrace was tight, pressing her against his muscular torso.
His armor pressed painfully into her soft, vulnerable flesh and she winced in pain.
“I’m sorry,” Alexander said, releasing her.
He began to fumble at the straps and catches that secured the metal to his body.
Violet began to help him, lifting away the breastplate, then the gorget around his neck, and the mantle that lay across his shoulders.
The mail he wore beneath was heavy and smelled strongly of steel and oil.
Finally, it was gone. Beneath it, Alexander wore a thick woolen vest, marked with rust from the mail shirt.
Violet pushed her hands beneath it and found his bare flesh.
She smiled against his lips as he kissed her again.
As her fingers had touched him over his ribs, his muscles had tightened as though he were ticklish.
It pleased her to know that her touch could produce such an effect.
She drew his lower lip between her own, sucking on it as though it were a succulent piece of fruit.
She heard and felt his intake of breath at that, knew the pleasure he was feeling.
That intake of breath repeated when she bit down on his lip.
When he tried to lift his head to look at her, she hung on, holding him in place.
Then she pressed her hungry mouth to his, exploring with her tongue and feeling his pushing back, seeking the same entry.
And her mind wandered to another kind of entry, became aware of the powerful hardness that she could feel against her loins.
His hands were grasping her buttocks and she squealed as she felt his skin against hers.
That was an area that had been rent apart by her cruel captors, seeking to expose her intimately.
Now, Alexander exploited that. He ripped the holes wider and then grasped her bare flesh, squeezing and kneading.
She whispered his name, then moaned his name, pushing the squirming with her hips against his.
There was still armor about his waist, though not covering his manhood.
With every thrust of her hips though, her soft flesh was pressed against unyielding steel.
Just as her most intimate area was pushed against unyielding maleness.
It made her thrust harder against him, desiring that entry, that hardness.
He responded by gasping her name, clutching her tighter, tearing with more ferocity at the clothes that separated her from him.
Abruptly, he grabbed her hands, holding them above her head in just one of his.
With the other, he grasped the front of her dress and tore it away.
She cried out, throwing her head back and spreading her legs as wide as her kneeling position would allow.
She wanted to appear open and wanton before him, showing him the reward for his heroism.
He pushed her down, pinning her hands to the floor above her head, holding her wrists painfully tight.
Once more his lips found hers but only for a moment.
They traveled to her neck, and now he bit her, producing a squeal of delighted surprise.
He kissed the hollow of her throat and then his mouth enveloped one of her naked breasts.
First one, then the other. He drew her nipples into erect points as she writhed in desire and passion.
Alexander’s body pressed down upon her as his mouth worked upon her breasts.
Lifting her legs she felt his manhood against her loins once more, combined with the terrible pressure of his remaining armor.
His head lifted and he looked into her eyes, pausing for a moment.
Then came the moment she had wanted more than anything.
The moment she had been waiting and yearning for.
They became one, time and space ceasing to exist. Her existence became one of pleasure and deliciously pleasurable pain.
Hard muscle and soft flesh. Passionate kisses and tender touches. Thrusting, colliding bodies.
Violet woke with a start. Someone was knocking on the door of the lodge.
“Alexander!” she cried out.
“Lady Violet?” came the voice of a young man.
She recognized it as belonging to one of the household servants.
“Is that you in there, my lady? His Lordship sent me out to find you. Are you well?”
The dream fell away from her. Awareness of her surroundings returned to her. She saw the book on the floor beside her, open at the last page she had read. She closed it and sat up.
“I am quite well. I fell asleep. Will you tell His Lordship that I am returning to the house?”
“At once Your Ladyship,” the servant said.
Violet took a shuddering breath, fancying that she could still feel the armor pressing into her hips. Still feel the wonderful moment of…
I must keep a firm hold of myself. I have agreed to help Alexander and he to help me. That is all there must be between us. That…kiss was just a lapse in focus for both of us.