Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Damon woke with a start. Morning had not yet reached the horizon and darkness clung to the edges of the skyline. The stars still flashed against the inky darkness, and he could feel the cool air from the window blowing lightly across his skin. He lay listening to the quiet, his head resting on his hands stretched beneath his head. His keep had not yet stirred, and the birds had not yet awakened with the dawn. But as he lay in the darkness, his stomach tensed as if something was wrong. His battle senses sharpened, he felt deep in his bones that something was amiss.

Rosalynn and her strange witchery has finally caught up with me. He scanned the darkness of the room, his eyes squinted along the corners and walls, seeking out the dark places. The fire was just smoldering embers and ash as it burned itself out.

Looking over to the right side of his bed, he saw that Gabriella was sprawled out on her stomach, facing the door, her rich auburn hair strewn about his pillows. The sight pleased him, made his body clench with need. Rolling to his side, he ran his fingers along her spine, down over the swell of her hips as he caressed her buttocks, gently kneading each in turn. She stirred beneath his tender touch.

She smiled a knowing smile to herself before turning over to look at him. “Is it morning already?” she questioned, her voice still quiet with sleep, her breasts brushing the front of his chest.

“Not quite,” he responded, his eyes caressing the length of her, as his hands wished to do.

Passion smoldered in his quicksilver eyes and Gabriella’s heart raced with equal passion. Damon reached for her, pulling her naked flesh against him. His erection at full mast, quivered with desire against her belly. Before Gabriella could think, his mouth closed on hers and all thought fell away.

The man definitely knows how to wake a girl up, she thought, smiling to herself. His chest was warm and arousing where it brushed against her tightening nipples. Warmth pooled low in her belly as need assaulted her senses.

Damon traced along her side, up to her breast where he kneaded the fullness, pulling and twisting her nipple to full arousal. She gasped and arched into him. He left her mouth and burned a hot, wet path down her neck, rolling her to her back as he took her breast into the warmth of his mouth. He suckled hard, pulling things low in her body.

“I want you,” he growled, his voice raspy with hunger.

His hand burned its own path down her side and hips, across her stomach and into the curls of her womanhood. He parted her legs and slowly opened her folds, thinking to prepare her for him. She was already wet and wanting as his finger slipped inside her. Caressing her nub with his thumb, his lips moved on to her other breast. The licking, nipping and suckling along with the pleasure his fingers gave brought her to the edge of madness.

Damon slowed his onslaught, wanting to have this last moment with her before daylight and other responsibilities took over his time. “Not yet, Cherie. We’ve just begun this morning’s race, and ‘tis time for you to ride.” Taking her by her waist, he rolled over and placed her on top of him. Her long red hair hung in tangled waves around her, her breasts peeking through the lustrous curls. “So beautiful,” Damon whispered.

This new position opened Gabriella to his heat-filled gaze. There was no time for any modesty as he adjusted her to his needs and plunged deep inside her. Gabriella’s breath left in a whoosh, her head tilting back as she braced herself above him, settling around him like they were made for each other. “What do I do?” she questioned when she found enough air to speak.

“Ride, Cherie,” he stated simply. “Ride.”

Gabriella braced her hands on his chest and tentatively moved her hips, rising and settling in a slow, relentless pattern.

Damon thought he’d died and found heaven. With her innocence given to him, he felt possessive as he watched her move above him. She is mine and no other would touch her this way, he thought as he reached for her hips and increased the tempo.

Flipping her hair off her shoulder, he leaned up and took the hard, extended nipple before him into his mouth and sucked hard. Her gasp of pleasure pleased him so much so that he did it to the other, all the while increasing the speed and depth of his thrusts, until Gabriella could stand it no more and, in a frenzy, met each of his thrusts with her own.

Her orgasm came hard and fast as Damon clutched her hips, pumping into her relentlessly. Oh God! What is this man doing to me? Oh God, Oh God! “Oh God!” she yelled, crashing over the edge of ecstasy.

Damon felt the contraction of her muscles tighten around him as her orgasm roared from her, taking him with her over the beautiful edge of serenity.

They lay panting for several moments, both unable to catch their breath. Gabriella lay sprawled across him, her body weak from the marathon sex they’d indulged in most of the night. “That was amazing,” she whispered exhaustedly.

“Aye,” he responded. “I’ve never felt this good in my life.” Determined to wait no longer, he gripped her arms and flipped her to her back, all the while still buried within her.

Gabriella looked up at him, stunned, her mouth an O of surprise at the hardness he still maintained. He was so much larger than her and yet he’d been so gentle with her last night. Taking his time. Teaching her. Showing her his desire and creating her own. A small smile touched her lips as Damon leaned down to steal her breath with a kiss.

“Tell me, lady—where is it you come from?” he questioned softly, his slow, soft kisses an assault on her already overloaded body.

His question took her off guard as he continued to kiss her. Deeply, slowly. Stirring her until she was yet again breathless. When he pulled away from her to allow her to speak, she became lost in depth of his eyes for a moment before realization struck. Damn him! He wants to know so damn badly, she railed in her mind, her anger to the edge of exploding, well, then, let’s see what he does with the truth.

Annoyed beyond mere aggravation, she pushed at his chest to push him away from her. Being settled so deeply within her, it was difficult to budge him. And, with his great bulk of muscle it did no good to attempt to push him. “Did you seduce me just to get me to talk?” she accused, her anger made her skin glow pink as she clenched her teeth.

“Aye,” he answered smugly. “‘Twas a good plan. Now all you have to do is tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Where it is you come from. That is as good a place as any to start.”

Smug, bastard. Let’s see how much of the truth he can handle. She was tired of his game. “All right, you imbecile. You really want to know, then I’ll tell you. I’m from New York City.”

“What is this imbecile you say? It does not sound appealing.”

“It’s not appealing. And at the moment, neither are you. Now get off me,” she raged against him, pushing on his chest as hard as she could. Still he wouldn’t budge.

“York?” he questioned wonderingly, his brow creasing in thought. “You’re a long way off from York, milady. And how did you get from York to a field in the middle of nowhere, leagues from any civilization without a horse, cart or any man for protection?”

“Not York, you dolt. New York. As in not on this continent. As in not even in this time zone.”

“Calling me names, milady, is not going to help your plight. And what do you mean by time zone?”

He flipped her over again so that she once again was on top. Her breath left her as his hardness continued to fill her. Does the man ever get satisfied? Her brain was trying to shy away from answering his questions.

Damon began to move slowly inside her. He had her body, now he wanted her soul.

Gabriella swore that she’d never be able to walk again if he continued this onslaught. The thought of him seducing her to get the information he wanted completely pissed her off. But he’d done it, and she had been his willing victim. She still was, as she met each slow, sensual thrust. She should have known that he would stoop to such a thing.

She watched his hips move beneath her, followed the line of hair from their joined bodies up the plain of his etched stomach to the tightness of his chest. Casually her gaze wandered up the hard line of his chin and over his soft, amazing lips until she finally met his eyes.

They stared at each other for quite some time, neither saying a word. Just moving to the slow steady beat of their desire.

“Where, milady?” he asked her softly.

Gabriella knew what he was asking. A small part of her was afraid of his response. Will he throw me back in his dungeon? Will he burn me at a stake? Will he send me out of his home into this horrific land and expect me to fend for myself? Damn, damn, damn. You should really think things through before you act, Gabriella, she chided.

She looked at him then, wondering if he could believe her. If there was some small part of him that would protect her from this chaos. Taking her courage in hand, she looked him straight in the eyes and replied, “I was born and raised in New York City, New York on April thirtieth, nineteen hundred and eighty—exactly nine hundred thirty-seven years in your future. I have no siblings, no relatives and my parents are dead. I came to England—which is what your country is called in my lifetime—I was brought there because of an ancient sword that was given to my father to investigate. A mysterious sword with dragon etchings and a ruby eye set into its handle. A sword with no historical owner. A sword that was the only thing found at the accident site where my parents disappeared. Your sword.” She paused to catch her breath before continuing.

“I was on a road in Kent, leaving an inn when a deer or something darted in front of my car—which I can explain later to you what a car is,” she rushed on, “when I swerved in the rain to avoid hitting it and my car crashed through the thicket, throwing me out the door. When I became conscious again, your soldier, Richard, I believe was his name, was on top of me, trying to attack me.”

Damon stilled all movement and stared at her, dumbfounded. “‘Tis an amazing tale, milady,” he finally replied, brow lifting as his mouth tried but failed to keep the smirk from crossing it. “I’d no idea you were so gifted as a troubadour. We’ll have to listen to more of your tales at a later time. Mayhap in the great hall as we take our evening meal.”

“Don’t mock me,” she chided, trying to move to get away from him, the thought of sex with him just annoying her more now that she’d told him everything.

Damon stilled her movement with his hands at her waist. Looking at her incredulously, he asked, “I am to take it you mean this tale?”

“Of course I mean it. You asked and I’ve told you. I don’t know anything else about your stupid rebels, or how I got to that damn field. Are you happy now? If that’s all, you can let me go.”

Damon stared at her, pondering the possibilities.

He started to move within her again, not once growing soft inside her. But the longer he stared at her, the longer the rhythm became until he flipped her on to her back and drove into her with hard, deep thrusts.

Gabriella gasped his name as her orgasm overcame her. Damon followed her lead, head tilted back, the muscles in his arms corded with tension until, with his last spasm, he collapsed on top of her.

Time seemed to stand still as she waited for him to say something. Anything. Several moments passed before he moved from within her. Getting out of bed, he strode across the room, completely comfortable with his nudity. Taking water from a bucket that was left by the fire, he saw to his morning abolitions and took clothes from a chest at the end of his bed.

Not once uttering a single word to Gabriella until she could stand it no more. “So,” she questioned, sitting up in the bed, pulling the coverlet over her breasts, “are you going to say nothing?”

“What is it you would like me to say, Gabriella? That you have a fanciful story? That you are addled? That you are some kind of witch, and I should burn you at a stake in the center of my bailey?”

“Well I would hope it wouldn’t come to burning me alive,” she retorted. “But I am telling you the truth. Ask me anything about the future and I’ll tell you. Go ahead, ask me. Would you like to know how long the Normans rule England? What about when there’ll be a plague and how many thousands will die? Oh, oh, I know,” she said, getting excited as she moved towards the end of the bed, pulling the coverlet around her.

“What about cars, horseless machines that take people wherever they want to go in a short amount of time. Or how about planes—big, giant metal machines that fly people like birds across land in hours or over the oceans in less than a day. Would you like to hear about that?” Gabriella was frantic. Somehow she had to make him believe her. She had to make him understand that she was not some enemy, or a witch that needed to be burned alive.

Damon stared at her. Pulling on his tunic, he reached for his boots and made haste putting them on. Grabbing his sword, he strode to the door. “You will stay in this room until you are sent for,” he said, door handle in hand as he turned and looked at her. “Do you understand?”

Gabriella glared at him. I am an idiot! Like he believes one word I’ve said.

“Gabriella!” he shouted. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I hear you. The whole damn place can’t help but hear you.”

“If you attempt to leave this room, you will be sorely punished,” he told her, his voice gruff with command.

“Yeah, yeah…sorely punished, sent to the dungeon, burned at the stake,” she replied softly. She pulled the blankets tighter and sat back on her knees.

Damon gave her one last stern look before he turned and left the room.

She waited to hear the lock turn. And waited. But it never came. What does that mean? Why hasn’t he locked me in?

Light came through the window, and the castle began to stir.