Dark Warrior (Warrior 2)

Decimus woke her and she saw the hall was empty and they were alone.

“I give you permission to leave,” he said.

She struggled to stand, groggy from being woken from her sleep. She bowed her head and walked off.

“Mary.”

She turned to face him.

“Never go against my orders again.”

She bowed her head and felt herself close to tears as she left the room. Decimus mattered not, but Michael did, and she feared she had missed his visit.

She climbed the stairs slowly, her body still heavy with sleep. She entered her bedchamber, locking the latch behind her and looking around the room.

“Michael,” she called out softly.

Nothing emerged from the shadows, and her shoulders slumped in disappointment. She walked to her bed discarding her clothes along the way and stopped, her eyes misting with tears. There on her pillow, on a piece of cloth, lay a bunch of berries.

Michael had been there and had brought her berries just like he had done when they were together. And she had missed his visit.

She wrapped the cloth around the berries and held them to her chest. “I miss you and I love you so very much.”

She crawled into bed with a heavy sadness in her heart, and with the cloth of berries snug in her hand, slept.

She dreamed Michael was touching her, kissing her, whispering words of love to her, and she did not want the dream to end. She fought against opening her eyes, fought against letting him go again.

“Open your eyes, Mary. The room is dark and I want you to know that it is me making love to you.”Chapter 24Mary slowly opened her eyes, still afraid she was dreaming. The room was dark, the near-dying fire’s light barely casting a glow in the room. Above her loomed a shadow.

“Michael?” she whispered.

“I told you I would come.” He brushed his lips over hers.

“I thought it too late, that I had missed you.”

“I could not go without seeing you.”

“Go?” she asked anxiously. “You are leaving? How long will you be gone?” The thought that she might not see him for some time sent an uneasiness rushing through her, settling heavily in her stomach.

“I have work to do, Mary,” he reminded.

“I can help.”

“We will see. Now, no more talk,” he whispered. “I want to make love to you.”

“I have missed touching you.” She walked her fingers slowly up his arms, over his chest, and then down his hard belly.

“Careful,” he warned, “or this will be a short evening together.”

They both laughed and kissed, their hands reaching out to touch and love each other with a fierce tenderness born of a solid love.

His lips captured her nipples and he enjoyed the taste of her so sweet and tender. He had little time until dawn, but he did not wish to rush. He wanted to linger and savor every inch of her before he took his leave with dawn’s first light.

She moaned and he reminded her that she must remain silent. She quickly stifled her heated response, fearful they might be caught.

His hands roamed her soft silky flesh, coming to rest between her legs. He gently enticed her to respond, and she did immediately, stirring his own passion just as quickly. It had not been long since their last time together but it seemed like an eternity. And now he wanted an eternity to make love to her.

She climaxed with a soft sigh and he smiled, though she could not see it. He wanted to please her over and over, only then would he join with her.

Mary attempted to have her way with him, but he was in total control on this night, and she could do nothing but surrender to his love.

After several soft sighs spilled from her lips, Michael slipped over and into her. She grasped his arms as he brought her to the peak of ecstasy, and together they spiraled into oblivion.

It took a while for their breathing to return to normal and for their racing hearts to calm. In the meantime they remained locked in each other’s arms, refusing to let go, refusing to allow this moment to end, refusing to say goodbye once again.

Michael rolled off her and shifted her to rest against his side. She went willingly, wanting to remain beside him as long as possible.

When his breathing finally calmed he asked, “How goes it with you and Decimus?”

“He is an ignorant, arrogant fool.”

“He is no fool,” he warned.

“You are right,” she reluctantly admitted. “His beliefs are so strong that it makes him dangerous.”

“Can you wed a dangerous man?”

“Do I have a choice?” She tapped his chest. “You are a dangerous man but I would wed you willingly.”

“Do you propose to me?”

She walked her fingers over his chest, up to his mouth, to slowly stroke his lips. “Would you wed me if you could?”