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I had just gotten back to Ashmore and I was already on my knees in the middle of the road, hands trying to stop the bleeding of a young woman as my stomach was queasy with the worst of sensations. I felt like I was about to be sick in public and it took everything in me to keep my eyes on the worst injury I had ever seen in my life.
Her neck had been slashed by something exceptionally sharp - a knife or a claw - and blood was splattering up as she gurgled in a weak attempt to breathe. My eyes scanned the square and houses around us, my throat already too dry to keep screaming for help.
There was no one to come to her aid. Or everyone in the settlement had vanished from the protected walls or they were hiding from what had just slaughtered a few dozen citizens. Bodies scattered in the middle of the street I was in, lacerations ten times worse than the one under my palm.
However, she was the only one left breathing.
My eyes burned with tears I refused to let out. The woman underneath me begged with sparkly eyes and I couldn't let her see my distress.
“It's gonna be ok.” The lie scratched my throat as I applied more pressure on the wound. “Help is coming.”
But no one was. The party that had escorted me and The Guardian back to town had scattered as soon as we came in through the gates in search of whatever it was that had caused that destruction, and I was alone. The dark sky above highlighted my loneliness with thunder.
Behind me, loud steps rushed on the cement. Then two solid hands were on my shoulders, urging me up. All I could hear with the ringing in my ears was my name being called urgently.
Reluctantly, I let go. Of the woman’s slim pale neck, of any chances of saving her. Those beautiful brown starburst eyes shifted to a muted tonality and she was gone, right in front of me.
I looked down at my hands, stained with the blood of an innocent girl as those same strong hands circled my waist and supported my weight before I could fall back onto the ground.
“I tried to help.” I muttered, finally letting the pain run down my cheeks. “I tried -”
“It's ok.” Ransom murmured softly, applying extra pressure to the fingers circling me, forcing me to walk as the first few drops of that seasonal storm started to fall. “Come, we have to go.”
Encouraging me forward, my legs responded to his speed unconsciously. Gaze to the ground, I let him manhandle my body through the empty and quiet streets until we were under a threshold, his muscular shoulder pushing a heavy door open.
We were at the Inn, I realized briefly. The same one I had been weeks before, by myself. Some patrons were hiding behind the bar as we rushed our way upstairs, the Guardian causing them to flinch with his overpowering presence.
On the third floor, a man stood in front of a door at the end of the hallway.
Zavier.
My husband.
Without greeting us, he opened the door behind him, delivered a key to the man that held me and let us through.
“No one comes inside.” I heard Ransom say before closing the door behind us.
I barely had time to soak up the large room with the large four poster bed before he held me by the shoulders, turning me to face his anger.
“I told you to be safe.” He grunted as soon as we were protected from prying eyes, locked inside a room. When I didn't say a word, his grip on my arm tightened to the point of hurting. “Didn't I?”
His indignation was so excessive that it took me a while to notice the two frightened girls with us in the room.
Jocelyn and Brielle had been disturbed in the middle of setting up my bath, extremely confused as to why I was not alone. I had even forgotten they had been instructed to meet me there.
“Your Higheness.” They spoke in unison, stepping back against the wall as the Guardian strode forward.
“Sir, you shouldn't be here.” Brielle commented as he started to inspect outside through the large bay windows where the bathtub was located, withdrawing the curtains to see if any other threats awaited us.
It was then that my lady maid noticed my bloody hands.
“What happened to her?” She directed the question to my guide, as if I wasn't there. Not that I would have had any strength to answer if she directed it to me. I could barely focus on what was happening around us.
“Leave.” He grunted, unlocking the door we had just been through and gesturing for them to vacate the room. Zavier, still holding his post outside, seemed unfazed by the rudeness of his friend.
“But, sir, her bath is almost ready.” Brielle tried again, at no avail. In the meantime, Jocelyn was already striding, a panicked look on her face as she gestured for the other woman to follow.
Once again, Ransom wasted no pleasantries. Through gritted teeth he said for the last time. “Leave. Us.”
“Is that her blood?” Jocelyn questioned with wide eyes before stepping out of the room, expecting a response from someone.
The only thing she received was a man twice her size towering in front of me in order to block me from their line of sight.
“Leave.” They flinched at his bluntness but did not move, standing between him and Zavier, but not yet outside. That was what it took for him to lose composure entirely and yell. “Now!”
They were escorted out and the door closed shut with a heavy thud, the key turned on the lock for the last time. It was only then, when Ransom approached and positioned both hands on my shoulders that I noticed I was trembling.
“Let me help you, my Queen.” His offer conveyed so many connotations that it soothed myself, even if just a little. How sincere that concern was, only time would tell. For now, I relished it.
Once again Ransom guided me, a hand around my waist to lead me towards the tub on the corner, filled with lukewarm water. “Before it gets cold.” He added, finding a bucket of boiling water on the fireplace and pouring its contents inside in order to make my bath temperature bearable for longer.
The room was warm with the fire going and candlelights casting a cozy lighting, but I was still shaking. Outside, the storm had gained strength and the wind banged on the windows soundly. It should have frightened me, overwhelmed my sensitive senses but, with Ransom standing nearby, I felt safer than ever before.
As I started undoing the laces in my corset, the goosebumps on my skin began to fade. It was a hard task - if not impossible - to untie my dress by myself. While I struggled pulling the strings loose, I couldn’t hear Ransom coming to my aid.
“My Queen.” He said softly, gently guiding my hands away from my back. I let them drop to my sides as he assisted me.
One by one the buttons came loose and the long ribbon that kept my corset in place fell to the ground, followed by the one thing that supported my breasts and covered my undergarments. Following that, the skirt pooled around my feet, leaving me shivering once again under the translucent cotton material, my naked body almost in full display to my guardian’s eyes.
A rough clear of his throat snapped me out of my own mind and I forced myself to walk towards the steamy water waiting. I climbed the single step that led to it and stopped in front of the oval wooden bathtub, shimming myself out of that last layer of clothing. Kindly, Ransom helped me in the tub, a ghostly-like touch on my elbow to make sure I would not lose balance. I should’ve felt embarrassed but, at that moment, I was not trusty of myself.
The blush in my cheeks slowly faded as I found some sort of privacy under the clear warm surface.
When I thought the Guardian was about to leave me alone, he returned to my side with a washing cloth in hand, kneeling on the floor with no effort. I evaded his eyes but flinched nonetheless as he picked my arm up.
He should be outside, hunting the beings that had killed that poor girl. Instead, here he was, with me. Keeping me safe. Helping me bathe when I seemed to not have the strength to do so myself.
While one hand held my arm out of the water, the other sank the cloth in, running the clean damp material on the blood that still stained my knuckles and forearms. Tenderly, he wiped me clean. Sweeping the cloth softly on my skin, taking the crimson away.
From my forearm, he climbed towards my sides, reaching my clavicle and doing circular motions on the area around my neck. I hadn’t even noticed the blood had splattered so high. Leaning my head back. I let the Guardian do a job that was not his responsibility. His touch was so featherlight and precise that I couldn't help but be glad he was there with me after all.
The butterflies in my stomach tried telling me something more that I refused to acknowledge. Wishful thinking would take me nowhere. It would only, perhaps, push him away.
The bath didn't last as long as I wished it did. Soon, the water grew cold and my skin prickled with goosebumps. With a robe in hand, Ransom guided me out and patted myself dry, doing his best to not linger his touch in sensitive parts of my body. The problem was: every part was sensitive with him nearby. It took every strength in me to step away from him and finish the task myself. Then, I walked to the windows, wrapping the ties loosely around my waist and holding myself together with both arms around my shoulders.
Wishing they were someone else’s arms instead.
We stayed silent for a moment, as I observed the storm lose its strength then pick it up again. It would be a long sleepless night if it continued like that.
“You didn't have to do this.” I whispered the moment I heard him step away from me, hoping to delay his departure. Uncrossing my arms then stretching them around my waist, I waited, never turning to face him.
A thunder echoed outside and, simultaneously, my heart thumped inside my ribcage.
Truth was, I was scared what my features could reveal if I confronted him. Scared what I could see reflected in his irises too. The delay in his speech was more revealing than his words could've ever been.
“As long as I'm serving my Prince and you're in his kingdom, I'm at your disposal, Princess.”
A humorless chuckle left my lips. “Is that the only reason?”
“My Queen, I don't unders-”
“You're dismissed.” I interrupted him abruptly. Frustration deepened in my voice.
“My Queen…” I felt the brush of his fingertips on my forearm before they drifted away.
I ignored his plea, fighting back tears. “Go.”
“Odessa.”
I finally faced him. “Why are you really here?” The demand in my words was unmistakable. “Tell me.”
His shoulders dropped. The powerful, angry persona being substituted by the one I liked most. The one that made me feel things I had never felt before.
His next words were more gentle than I could've ever expected. “You know why. You have to know why, Odessa.”
My head was wobbling before he was finished. I refused to acknowledge what was concealed in between the lines.
“Say it. I need to hear you say it.” I uttered through gritted teeth.
Defeated, he shrugged, hands open at his sides. “I cannot.”
I could not help but scoff at him. Possibly another blood oath keeping me from the truth. Or he did not trust me enough to reveal his feelings. Whatever it was, it hurt.
“Then you should go.” I declared, resuming my position by the windows, waiting to hear his withdrawal. He didn't. Instead, he approached me further.
His lips grazed my ear as his hands rested on my hips. My name left his lips, soft and seductive, and I melted. Leaning my head back, I let him wrap his arms around me and turn me around. My arms dropped to my sides and, with that, I lost the only thing tightening the robe around me.
Ransom’s eyes dropped to my chest the moment my only privacy was taken away, and mine followed. His fingers skimmed my naked skin before settling on my ribcage, thumbs tracing the underside of my breasts.
Once again my name came off his lips. This time, like a prayer.
With that, all of my remaining resistances loosened. I tiptoed, my hands cradling his face as I pulled him down for a kiss. At the same time he leaned closer.
We met in the middle. Our mouths touched briefly at first, then the kiss became more desperate. His tongue darted out to lick my lower lip and I let him in, opening my mouth to receive his eagerness.
His hands drifted lower, covering my ass entirely as, without any effort, he lifted me up. My legs automatically tightened around his hips, heels locking behind his back. The groan that left his mouth - still glued to mine - could be considered sinful.
“Cross.” He breathed, nibbling the soft skin of my lips. I moaned. Loudly.
And that was enough to drive us over the cliff.
Blindly carrying me to bed, Ransom laid me under the canopy and stepped back. I raised my upper half, supporting myself on my forearms, and watched mesmerized him remove his clothes.
I was still damp from the bath, a few droplets of water persistent on my exposed skin. But I was almost sure the wetness between my legs had nothing to do with that.
“Fuck, Cross.” He cursed the moment after I bit my lower lip. It wasn't a sensual gesture but merely one that reflected my nervous state. Ransom stared deep into my eyes. “You still want me gone?”
My head was shaking negatively before he was done asking.
Was I making a mistake by letting him stay? By giving myself to him? Probably.
Was I going to regret it? I hoped not.
It was hard to think about regret when a man like him was undressing in front of my desiring eyes, removing armor and tunic without taking his eyes off me, a bulge in his trousers that told me exactly how much he also yearned for me.
To be desired was not a common concept in my life. Sure, I could attract some second glances - even with my dyed hair - but it was never like this. All consuming, unaware of the consequences. Not when one felt invisible most of her life.
Removing the last piece of clothing - his underwear - Ransom allowed me the view of a cock so gloriously thick and long I wasn't sure how it could fit inside anyone, let alone me. I wasn't an inexperienced virgin, but I was small. Compared to him, extremely tiny.
But I could be very persistent. And there was nothing my natural arousal would not be able to take in.
Ransom had a painful expression in his features that soon shifted to concern when his eyes met mine, mistaking the furrow in my brows.
“Are you sure about this?” The fact that he needed my verbal consent when I was literally spread open naked in front of him only proved how much of a gentleman he could be.
“Don't make me change my mind.” I joked, but he scowled. “There's nothing I want more, Ransom. Nothing I've ever wanted, to be honest.”
It was understandable we were trying to avoid the elephant outside of the room - my husband - but how would I be to blame when he barely spared a second glance at me? When this man - who annoyed me deeply yet still cared more than anyone else - was right here, desiring me? It felt good to be wanted. It made me feel powerful.
And reckless. I could not give a single fuck about what my husband would say.
I tried distracting his apprehension with another question instead. “Are you sure about this?”
“Cross.” There was some kind of warning in the way he said my former last name. Refusing to acknowledge the new one I had been blessed with after my marriage only highlighted the extra-conjugality of what we were about to do. “If you only knew how often I've thought about this…” He stopped himself, eyes closing. Like he was in pain. Or reminiscing of something. One of his hands gripped his balls while the other pinched the area between his long nose.
“How often?” I challenged him, studying the way he stroked his cock a few times. Slow, lazy and very methodically.
Opening his eyes, I was welcomed with a shift in the green irises to an almost black, something I had never seen before. Something dangerous. “Too fucking much.”
Only then he crawled over me, and my legs spread at their own accord to accommodate his hips between my thighs. Our nudity was electric. It felt like my body was plugged into live wire and I was being electrocuted in the best possible way. And he had barely touched me.
As if reading my mind, the knuckle of his forefinger traced my inner leg and between my labia, gathering the moisture that I had accumulated there and flicking my clit once just to test me. My back arched slightly.
“So wet.” He stated the obvious, clearly aware it was not a consequence of my recent bath. My arousal glistened in his fingertips as he brought them closer to examine.
Then licked them clean.
That unholy act had me rolling my eyes with unfamiliar pleasure.
“Delicious.” He praised with a growl, lowering his chest to approach his head to mine. Then, before kissing me again, he murmured. “Mine.”
My core tightened. I wanted to say something to correspond with his possessiveness, that I was his through and through, but no words coped to leave my throat because he was leaning down for a punitive kiss and all I could do was nod persistently and moan against his mouth.
It didn't take long for his tongue to ask for permission into my mouth once more, which I gladly welcomed. They twirled together as he kissed me open mouthed, licking the seam of my upper lip before dragging it across my chin and down my neck, staining me in his spit. It should've disgusted me. Instead, it drove me insane.
And bold.
I locked my heels under his ass, pulling him even closer to me. The tip of his cock prodded my entrance the moment his lips closed around my left nipple and I gasped, clenching around nothing.
“Easy, Cross.” He demanded, looking me in the eyes. Once again his fingers found the area between my thighs - so quickly it was like they’ve belonged there from the beginning - and stroked me a few times, teasing the bundle of nerves capable of making me scream.
His name left my lips before I could control myself.
“I gotta prep you to take me, my Queen.” He explained, scolding at my impatience.
His words sounded so cocky I couldn't help but chuckle. That got me a sharp stare.
Disciplinary, a finger made its way inside my opening and I swallowed any funny comments I could've vocalized at that moment. It was big. So much bigger than any of mine that I gasped at the intrusion. It didn't particularly hurt but it stretched me favorably.
“Fuck.” We both said at the same time, a smile soon after appearing on both of our lips. Nervously, I bit mine. And once again, Ransom lost the little bit of control he had left.
“That fucking mouth, Cross.” He leaned closer to me again to plant a firm kiss to my lips while at the same time pushed that finger further, bending at the knuckle to reach a part of me I had never known existed. It made my back arch again, farther up this time, and Ransom kissed me to soothe my shivers as I came down from an unexpected orgasm.
“I should be ready now.” I breathed out the statement after recovering myself, my eyes still flashing colours in front of my face, making it impossible for me to distinguish his expression.
There was probably a smirk on it, I could tell by the way he spoke next.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, my Queen…” He withdrew his finger from my intimacy and examined the way my orgasm dripped from it. Then, his eyes were on me as he smeared my essence on his cock. “Are you?”
“Please, Ransom.” I was not one to beg but I had started to see that, with him, I was up to anything.
“Please, what?” He challenged, brushing the tip of his member on my labia, reaching my clit just to tease me. I was desperate.
“I need it.” It was a groan that left my mouth. Not very royalty of me.
“What do you need?” He tried again, too patient. I looked down to see him stroking himself a few times, his cock bigger than before, turning into a purple shade that told me he was as hopeless as I portrayed myself. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you, my Queen.”
My eyelids flapped a few times, eyes watering in frustration, and with all effort I could gather, I said.
“Fuck. Me.”
And, oh, he did. Slowly at first. Painfully so. It took him a few minutes to settle fully inside of me but, when he did, it was heaven. My walls wrapped around him like he was finally home, and I could feel the way his member pulsed inside, his eyes closed as he fought the urge to come prematurely. When he started to move, it was like jumping off my cliff.
A toe-curling kind of joy that should’ve been frightening but, surprisingly, it was not. We moved in tandem, eyes meeting for support - in my case - and assessment - in his. I lost count of how many times my name was spoken in that hoarse voice. But I would never forget the way he said the moment his orgasm crashed - soon after my earth shattering one - and he collapsed on top of me, seed spilling its warmth inside my body.
A blissful feeling took over me and I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him close, kissing his forehead, cheeks, anywhere I could reach. Before pulling out, he thrusted himself in a couple of times, already going soft but determined to make me come one more time. His middle finger substituted his cock and, with his knuckles pinching my clit, I lost control again, whispering pleas of more and enough. It felt like fire. Like I was about to explode. When I gushed around his hand and he praised me for doing so, I knew if I died, I would go euphorically.
The storm did not frighten me that night. Curled against his chest and with my head supported by his bicep, I slept throughout the night, only waking up when the bed started to lose the warmth it carried during the last few hours.
I knew Ransom had not left me alone before my eyes were open. His looming presence - specially his smell - overpowered my solitude.
He was half-naked reading a newspaper on the armchair by the window, a tray with three cups of tea and a few pastries on the side table. When my awakening was noticed, he closed the pages and got up to sit by my side on the bed. He reached for one of the teacups and brought them to my hands once I had propped myself up against the pillows. Still nude, still vibrating with the night before’s events.
“We didn't use any protection last night.” He stated when I leaned down to smell the cup and scrunched my nose. Of course it was not a common tea. Nothing I was used to would smell so… poorly.
I nodded anyway. It wasn't unfamiliar with the type of protection he was talking about. I knew men had sheath options to be used as contraceptives. I just never thought about asking for them.
Which was entirely on me. That should have been my responsibility as future Queen of his realm.
“I guess our Prince wouldn't approve of his wife carrying someone else’s child.” I meant it as a nonchalant joke but Ransom did not take it lightly. His expression stiffened and he stepped away, gathering my clothes on the floor and folding them into a neat pile he positioned at the edge of the bed.
“We're going to go back to Treow.” He informed me without directing me a glance. “You should get dressed.”
“Why? You're needed here!” I could not keep myself from asking. We had just gotten to town. And, although it hadn’t been the welcome committee we expected, there should be an explanation for our journey there. It shouldn't have been for nothing.
“You’re not safe here.” He simply said, throwing the tunic over his head and tying the belt around his waist. Just like it had begun, our dreamlike scenario was gone. I could not be more disappointed. So I let that be transparent in my next words.
“Apparently I’m not safe anywhere.” I shrugged, getting up from the bed without anything to cover my body. If he wanted to forget what had happened between us the night before, he would have a hard time doing so.
“Odessa.” He warned me as I approached. Then, waiting for a lecture that did not come, I tiptoed and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth, mischievously. His palm snaked around my waist.
“Ransom.” I replied seductively, tracing my fingertips on his covered chest, feeling the dark veins he carried. “Should you go get our Prince or should I?” I waited for a response but none came. His gaze burned through my skin, a hand on my lower back firmly holding me in place, fingers digging my soft skin. I would have marks - his marks - and I could not care less.
A second went by. Then another one. I chewed on my lip, provocatively. Knowing damn well the effect that ordinary gesture had on him. Then, out of a sudden, Ransom picked me up with one arm, threw me over his shoulder and carried me back to bed, promising to make me pay for things I barely registered once I was thrown mercilessly back on the mattress.