Rise of the Defender (33 page)

     No one had a chance to react as the steel
sang through the air and caught the prisoner half in the neck and half in the
head, burying the blade deep. In a splash of blood and gore, the cubicle walls
surrounding the man were colored crimson as his head slammed dully against the
stone.

     “You bloody bastard!” Dustin shrieked. “Consider
that revenge for Rebecca!”

     Christopher had her tightly about the body
but she struggled madly against him. The prisoner, dead, was a gory site with a
pick axe buried in his face. Dustin continued to rant and fight even as
Christopher hauled her up in his arms, taking her back the way she had come.  It
was a chaotic and heart-breaking scene.

     David and the other knights, stunned at the
ferocity of Lady de Lohr, watched Christopher walk away with his screaming
burden.  They exchanged apprehensive and shocked glances before returning their
focus to the dead prisoner.

     “He got what he deserved,” Max muttered.

     Edward put a foot on the prisoner’s fat
chest and pulled the battle axe free, spurting more blood as the man fell to
the floor in a spreading pool of the stuff.

     “Gentle knights,” Edward said softly as he
tossed the axe to the ground. “I do believe we have seen a classic case of
justice served.

     David scratched his neck underneath his
itching mail. “Damn, remind me never to rile her,” he muttered. “Did you see
the way she wielded that axe?”

     “Did you see the power in her swing?”
Anthony countered. “Put some armor on her and let her go into battle with us.
She would do as well as any man.”

     David sighed, feeling his fatigue and
wanting to be free of his wet and uncomfortable clothing.  There was nothing
more they could do for the prisoner.  It was over.

     “Let us move him out of here,” he motioned
to the de Velt twins. “We will burn the body when the weather clears.”

***

     By the time they hit the grand hall, Dustin
was reduced to sobbing heavily in Christopher’s arms. He held her tightly, whispering
soothingly to her as he carried her up the last flight of stairs and into his chamber.

     Once inside, he closed the door and tried
to put her down, but she wouldn't let go of him. Awkwardly, he sat down on the
edge of the bed in his bulky armor and held her, stroking her hair gently.

     “Dustin, Dustin,” he sighed, sing-song. “What
do you do, lady?”

     “I heard what he said.” she sputtered.  “I
heard him say he killed Rebecca.”

     “I gathered,” his voice was soft and
comforting. “Why were you eavesdropping on us?”

     Her head lay on his shoulder. “I wasn’t, at
first,” she wept. “I watched you in the bailey and then when I saw you take him
to the abbey, I followed because I was curious. Father never kept prisoners and
I was just watching when I heard him. He said… oh, God, he said terrible
things.”

     She wept heavily.  Christopher took one arm
from her and tried to peel back his hauberk, but it was difficult until she sat
up and allowed him to remove it with both hands. By that time, her crying had
lessened and she stood up, looking completely forlorn and exhausted. Now that
he had the opportunity, he rose and removed the rest of his mail and wet things.
Dustin stood silently, watching him with an occasional hiccup.

     “Your breeches are wet,” she hiccupped.

     Silently, he undid the stays and removed
his breeches. Dustin, meanwhile, had turned away from him and went over to the
basin to wash her hands.

     “His blood is on me.” He heard her whisper but
he didn’t like the tone. By the time he reached her, she was rubbing harshly at
the blood stains that were slow to come off and he grabbed both of her hands,
stilling them.

     “Come with me,” he whispered into her hair,
pulling her stiff body across the room and practically falling onto the bed with
her.

     She mumbled something, weakly struggling
with him, but he ignored her and pulled the thick coverlet snuggly around them
both. In his massive arms, she began to calm and he felt her shaking lessen and
lessen. Outside his windows, the storm raged and pounded, but inside, in his
bed, they were safe and warm.

     Christopher lost track of time as they lay
together, neither one speaking, yet neither one sleeping. Dustin didn’t move a
muscle as he stroked her back gently.

     “I have never killed anyone before,” she
finally murmured.

     He nodded faintly. “You used the axe with
great skill.”

     “’Twas my father’s,” she replied. “He didn’t
like it. He thought it was a messy tool.”

     “Not if used correctly.” Christopher wasn’t
sure they should be speaking of this, but better to do it than to allow her to
stew. “I am sorry you had to hear those things. I was going to spare you the
details.”

     “I wish I hadn't heard,” she mumbled,
pressing her face into his shoulder. “But I did. I killed him, and I am not
sorry.”

     “It is right for you to seek justice for
your friend,” he replied after a pause. “I do not fault you.”

     She suddenly raised her head, looking at
him with her red-rimmed eyes. “Are you angry at me for interfering? I told you,
I hadn’t meant to, but when I heard him….”

     He shook his head, “Nay, sweetheart, I am
not angry,” he said. “If there would be any justice to the man’s execution,
then it is right that you should dispense it for what he did to your friend.” His
eyes suddenly twinkled at her, crinkling at the corners. “You are ferocious,
aren't you? I have never seen a woman with such bravery.”

     She lay her head back down, snuggling
comfortably against his skin. The whole evening, day, and week was overwhelming
her, and Christopher made her feel safe and warm as no one else ever had.
Somehow she knew he would always be there for her, to protect and tease her. It
was maddening and confusing and wonderful to feel the way she did about him.
For someone who never wanted to be married, she was growing to like it a great
deal. With warm and comforting thoughts, she drifted off.

     Christopher felt her go limp and knew she
was asleep. As exhausted as she was, he was glad but at the same time sorry. He
had so wanted to play with her this eve, touch her, warm her to him. She seemed
to forget about everything when he touched her, and he wanted her to forget
what she had done for the moment. He wanted to make her his in every sense of
the word, and holding her up against his nude body was quickly escalating into
torture.

     Eventually, he fell into a light sleep.
Dreams of Dustin filled his fatigued mind, images he could not quite grasp yet
at the same time he could feel strong emotions of fear and anger. Eventually
these images calmed and he began to dream of Dustin in a better light, her
golden hair spread over him, her mouth on his stomach in his dream his hands
grasped her buttocks, yet he could not quite feel her. It was almost as if she
were made of liquid, he knew he was touching it, yet he could not grab hold.

     Yet she was doing maddening things to him
and he was in heaven, frustrated that he could not touch her. His hands left
her buttocks slowly, moving up her arms and entangling themselves in cobwebs of
golden hair until they reached her breasts. Suddenly, she felt firm in his
palms and he began to caress her eagerly.

     Christopher awoke suddenly when Dustin
whimpered, and he was aware of his right hand on her breast, fondling her
gently while his left arm held her fast to him. As one does when awakened from
a vivid dream, he took no time to consider his actions and began to remove her
laced girdle with great urgency. Dustin, still half-asleep, whimpered again and
he tore at the top of her dress, baring her to the waist.

     He was so eager that he found he was
shaking as his hand reverently grasped her bare breast, observing the deep rosy
nipple and delighting in the softness of her. His caresses, gentle at first,
increased in intensity until Dustin gasped, entwining her fingers in his thick,
blond hair.

     His hot mouth descended on her sweet
nipple, sucking her mightily and she cried out softly in response, now fully
awake. He heard her call his name faintly, her hands in his hair and he was
losing his control with all of it.

     He tore himself away from her sweet flesh
long enough to pull her dress completely off, rendering her quite nude
underneath him.

     They both froze for a moment, staring at
each other in the dim light of the distant hearth. He gazed down at her, her
perfect body posed delightfully, his knees between her calves. He was pleased
that she was seemingly unashamed to look upon him this time.

     “Your body is sculpted like a Greek statue
I saw once when I visited Bath with my father,” she murmured, her lids
half-closed. “How is it that you are as perfect as marble?”

     He smiled, running his hands up both of her
thighs, lowering himself gently on her. “And how is it that your body is the
most perfect God has seen fit to form?”

     He kissed her tenderly after that, every
inch of her skin. He covered her arms, her legs, her stomach with kisses,
driving her mad with a desire she had never known before. She needed him,
somehow, though too naive to know exactly how. When he once again moved his
great hands to her core, covered with dark-gold curls, she tensed beneath him
and he looked up at her.

     “Do not be afraid, Dustin,” he whispered. “I
shall be gentle, I promise.”

     He had told her that once before and they
never went any further, due to David’s interruption. She was so caught up in
his touch now that if David had walked through the door at the moment, she
would have taken his head off. She found she wanted Christopher desperately,
all of her pre-conceived notions be damned.

     She relaxed and lay her head back down on
the pillow and he continued, stroking the exterior of her center before parting
the thick lips and running his tongue gently within the pink folds of tissue.

     Dustin could feel her apprehension rise but
forced herself to calm, her mind whirling at the sensations he was creating.
But his mouth did not torture her overlong for he knew she was very new to
this. He came up on her slowly, kissing her stomach, the dip in her abdomen
below her sternum, and under her breasts as his huge hands began to caress and
stroke her.

     He found a nipple once more, knowing how
she responded to him, and fondled her more firmly as he suckled. It took
virtually no time before she was slick and wet, her moisture running down onto
the linens and he knew she was ready for him.

     He parted her legs wide, his heart pounding
in his chest with the desire and excitement he was feeling. Dustin opened her
eyes and he lay atop her, supporting his weight with an arm and holding her
tightly with the other. Below, she could feel his big organ throbbing at her
threshold, pushing against her.

     His eyes met hers, their gaze locking as he
pushed into her very slowly, acutely aware of her tightness and small body. He
was not more than an inch into her when he shuddered with utter ecstasy.
Dustin, feeling as if she were being stuffed full, tightened with apprehension
and he stopped.

     “Relax, sweetheart,” he kissed her cheek,
her temple. “It will make it easier.”

     She didn’t reply but he felt her arms
tighten about him trustingly and that pleased him immensely.

     He played a bit of a game with her, yet one
that would help ease her. He would pull out completely, then push back into her
slowly, going deeper and deeper each time, loosening her muscles. Her maiden’s
barrier was apparent and the next time he withdrew, he plunged back into her
harder than he ever had, breaking the tissue and driving himself to the very
hilt.

     Because he had taken the time to relax her,
the sting of losing her innocence was just that - a sting. Although it did not
completely subside, it was not as frightening or unpleasant as Dustin had imagined
it would be. Instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and pleasure
with his closeness and not a hint of embarrassment. Of all of the things she
knew she would feel, she had been completely wrong.

     Christopher stopped, buried within her, and
pushed himself up to look at her face. Her expression was soft and he smiled in
surprise.

     “Did I hurt you?” he rasped.

     “A little,” she admitted, her legs wrapping
around his thighs of their own accord. “Is this all there is to it?”

     He raised an eyebrow slowly, completely
astonished at her reaction. He had expected screams, fighting, at the very
least.

     “Nay, lady,” he whispered, dipping to kiss
her nose. “We have only just begun.”

     He began to move in her then, slowly to
allow her to adjust, but escalating quickly to ram-hard thrusts that rattled
her teeth. Yet her nubile, innocent body responded to him with such intensity
that she had no other choice but to go with it. Initially she had been puzzled
with her wanton reaction to something she had never experienced before, but she
rapidly gave in with the rest of her until she was riding with him, faster and
faster, her nails biting into his broad back, feeling heat building in her
loins but having no idea how to satisfy it.