Rosehaven (Medieval Song 5)

“You are nearly naked, Hastings. Now, listen to me. Go with Severin. He must take you tonight. We have word that men—probably de Luci’s soldiers—are very close to Oxborough. There is no choice. Just allow him to get it done. It won’t be bad.”

She felt Severin’s arm come around her waist. He lifted her and carried her beneath his arm back into her bedchamber. He said over his shoulder, “I won’t hurt her overly,” then kicked the door closed with the heel of his boot. He turned the key in the lock, carried her to the bed, and threw her down onto her back.

“Don’t move. We will get it done if you will but stay there. If you struggle, it will just hurt you more.”

She looked at him, at his two fingers covered with her special cream. “What will you do with that cream?”

“You heard me tell Graelam that you are dry. This will ease my way. Damn you, don’t you know what I must do?”

“You will leave my bedchamber. You have not my leave to be here. I will hold you to your promise. Those men, they cannot enter Oxborough. Oxborough is a fortress. If you have any honor, you will hold yourself to it.”

He sat down beside her. “Listen to me, my lady. I’m certain that it is Richard de Luci who is outside the walls, hiding in the forest. His wife is dead, doubtless murdered by him. He is here to take you. I must get this union sealed. I must rend your maidenhead and spill my seed in your body. I have tonight. Tomorrow I might be in battle. Do you understand?”

That drew her back into her mind. She calmed. “Why didn’t you tell me that instead of just silently forcing yourself upon me?”

“I told you I had no choice.” He shrugged. “Besides, you are my wife. What need was there to say more?”

He made no move, just stared down at her.

Her father lay in his shroud in the chamber below. Richard de Luci was close. There was no hope for it. She said, “Very well. I won’t fight you anymore. I would ask that you not tear any more of my clothes.”

He grunted, then pulled the shift off her and tossed it aside. “Now you’re naked. There are no more clothes to tear. Part your legs.”

This was more difficult than she’d thought it would be. She parted her legs. She also closed her eyes.

“Bend your knees.”

She bent her knees.

She knew he was looking at her, looking at her where no one had ever looked. She swallowed. She felt his fingers touching her. She felt his fingers parting her. She felt his fingers, coated with the thick cream, shove into her. She felt his fingers rubbing the cream into her cold flesh, pushing deeper.

She tried not to move, but her body recoiled and tried to jerk away from him. “It hurts.”

“You are doing well. You will bear it. Soon it will be over.”

He left her.

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“No, leave your legs open for me.”

She opened her eyes to see him opening his trousers. His man’s sex was there, surely too big, surely, but then he rubbed the rest of the cream on his member.

“Lie still and it will be over quickly.”

He came over her, the wool of his tunic rubbing against her breasts, and it hurt. He pushed her legs wider and she watched him hold himself as he pushed into her.

She tried not to move, but suddenly she couldn’t help herself. It was too much. She cried out and jerked away from him. His palm flattened against her stomach. He drove into her and the scream swallowed itself in her throat.

She lay there, as motionless as a dead woman while he heaved over her. It was over soon, he hadn’t lied about that. He made some strange sounds in his throat, flung his head back, jerked into her, then he stilled.

In the next moment, he was gone, standing over her, panting, his breath jerking and deep. She didn’t look at him. She stared toward the tapestry on the wall opposite her narrow bed. It was lifting lightly as the storm winds buffeted against the keep walls.

He said, his breath still fast and harsh, “It is done. Now you are safe.”

“Safe? You just treat me like I am worth nothing at all and you bray that you have made me safe?” She turned to face him as she spoke. He was still standing there, breathing hard, his member now lying flaccid against his body. It looked shiny and wet, wet with his seed and her blood.

“I hate you,” she said with great precision. “You’re naught more than a rutting animal. I will never forgive you this. Never.”