Page 31 of The Raven and the Rose
Her legs went weak from the nightmare of it all, and she knew she would swoon. The moment he felt her sag against him, he bent and slipped his arm beneath her knees and lifted her against his muscular chest. Suddenly, in spite of the onlookers, he hardened. The great rigid length of him stood up until the tip touched the silken burden he carried. A great cheer rang around the room as he revived her with his kisses, and as he strode toward the bed, the King ushered the protesting merrymakers from the chamber.
Roger set her down gently onto the bed, then moved swiftly to the wardrobe. He donned his velvet robe and turned to the bed. “I’m sorry, my love. They were far gone in drink and couldn’t be dissuaded.”
She held up her hands as if to stop him from coming closer.
“Ravenspur, some things must be settled between us,” she began nervously.
He cocked a lazy brow. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I wish to have my own bedchamber and my own suite of rooms after tonight. I would find it intolerable to have to share with a man I do not love, nor even like,” she said. Risking a glance at his hard, lean face, she saw a mixture of lust and amusement. He was like a predatory animal; this close, she felt menace in his big, powerful body. Quickly, she moved across the bed and went on rapidly. “I want to make it plain that I married you because I had no choice, but I have no intention of becoming your wife in the true sense of the word.”
“You mean willingly,” Ravenspur amended silkily.
Her eyes widened in horror, “You wouldn’t rape me?” she cried.
He almost reassured her that he would not, then caught himself in time. With Roseanna he must keep the upper hand, or she would bewitch him and wrap him around her little finger. Before he was finished with her, he would make her as hot to fuck as he was.
“Rape?” he repeated. “I’ll have no need to resort to rape. Before we’re done, you’ll be begging me for more pleasure.”
“Pleasure?” she scorned. “’Tis all men think of! Well, you had better know from the beginning that I am no meek, amenable creature like Rebecca, to lie with supine acquiescence.”
He threw back his head and laughed. She saw his white teeth flash and the cords stand out in his powerful neck.
“Supine acquiescence! Roseanna, your vocabulary lays me low.”
“I was trying not to be vulgar!” she flared.
“Be vulgar, Roseanna,” he whispered.
“All right. I won’t lie on my back with my legs open!”
Her words conjured such a vivid picture for him that he knew he must touch her and taste her or go mad. He plucked a silken curl from her naked shoulder and wound it about his fingers possessively. “Now let me be vulgar. You will lie on your back with your legs open, you will lie on top of me with your legs open, and you will lie with your legs wrapped around my neck if I ask it of you—and I shall.” His strong hand now cupped one of her breasts and lifted it from her nightgown. His shocking words had once again lit fiery sensations between her legs and spread burning flames along her veins.
She pulled away from him angrily. “Don’t touch me!”
His eyes narrowed. Deliberately he unfastened his robe and stood over her with naked menace. “Are you finished laying down the law to me?” he asked silkily.
She licked her lips. She was afraid of him—and worse, he knew of her fear and would take advantage of it. Still, she had enough spirit to defy him. Or was she goading him to his limit to see how far he would go so she could experience the things he would do to her now that he was her husband, her lord, and her master?
“Touch me,” he ordered softly. Her eyes widened, for she perceived instantly that he wanted her to touch himthere.
She sat frozen, so he took her hand gently and guided her fingers to the long shaft that rose between them so shamelessly. The instant her fingers came into contact with him, he lengthened and hardened even further. She snatched her fingers away as if they had been burned. The mixture of lust and amusement came back into his glittering dark eyes. He shook his head. “Roseanna, such a to-do over nothing!”
“Nothing?” she flared.
He slipped from the robe slowly as if he were stalking her. She turned to flee from the bed, but he took hold of her silken nightgown, undid the buttons, and slid it off her shoulders. When he let go, she moved backward quickly. The nightgown fell in a circle around her waist.
“I only meant that you have already lost your virginity,” he said smoothly. “That is what you told me, isn’t it?”
“You are no gentleman to throw that at me!” she retorted, covering her breasts with one of the bed sheets.
“And if it is true, you are no lady!” he mocked.
She sat uncertainly on the bed, yet she was determined that this was as far as she was going to be undressed. As Roger looked at her, the firelight colored one side of her face, and the finespun sheet seemed to shiver against her breasts. He longed to take her in his arms, longed to kiss the insolence from her bold mouth. When she looked away from him, his eyes softened; she was young. “Lie down before you take cold,” he said softly.
She slipped under the covers, keeping well to the edge of the bed. He extinguished the candles across the room but left burning the ones beside the bed. Then, naked, he got into bed. He lay on his side and propped himself up on his elbow so he could converse with her. She was prickly as a hedgehog. How to begin his wooing?
“Child, you need not fear me. I’ll not hurt you,” he murmured, reaching out strong arms and drawing her against him.
