Guy of Gisbourne takes Marianne

"Marianne! Where are you?"

Worried, she hurried from her bedroom and ran to the flight of stairs from which she could look down into the living room, and see who came through the front door.

It was Guy of Gisbourne, obviously in distress, frantically looking around himself in search of her.

"What is it?" she said, leaning down the balustrade. Her long, black hair hung down from her face and she was wearing a simple dress with a wide neckline and a thin underskirt underneath, not her normal fancy lady dresses, accentuating her natural elegance and beauty.

She had just come home from seeing Robin. Robin, who had used to be a young lord from Locksley, the manor next to her father's in the district of Nottingham, but who had been outlawed for years now, since he had started to openly rebel against the Sheriff. Still, she saw him when she could. They were lovers, and she helped him execute his plans, as the innocent and unsuspected helper from the aristocracy, and sabotage the Sheriff's.

She had just changed back into her normal clothes, when Guy had come bashing through the door.

"I need to talk to you," he said, climbing up the stairs.

He took her by the arm and pushed the door of her bedroom open, nodding with his head for her to come inside.

She stumbled in the bedroom, turning to him with a look of questions on her face. Guy closed the door behind him.

Guy, with his black leather armour, wild, dark halflong hair and sharp, handsome features, had been in love with her from since she had come of age. He was a lord of his own and would with that have been a perfect partner for her to marry, but he was the right hand of the sheriff, having been forced to serve him in return for keeping his land after his father had died. Still, he had a good heart, and certainly kept an eye out for her.

"It's the council," he said. "the kings advisor has come and they have decided to investigate all the nobles who have had ties with Locksley." "Your father is in jeopardy," he added importunately, whispering.

"My father's not here," Marianne said. "He's momentarily visiting my aunt in Leicester. He won't be back for days. Surely they'll have come to senses by the time he's back?"

"No Marianne, they wont," Guy said urgently, squeezing her upper arms. "They'll put your family to trial and take it as a chance to get rid of you, for supporting Robin".

Worriedly, she looked around herself, trying to come up with a plan of action.

"Marianne..."

She felt his hands slide upwards, halting to cup her face. She had known him for years, and while they had been close, never had he been so much as alone in a room with her, careful not to compromise her honour. Now he was not only alone in her bedroom, he was holding her face. Hearing her father was not at home must have given him some courage.

She slowly looked up to meet Guy's eyes, already knowing what he was going to say.

"Marry me. I can protect you."

"Guy...," she said softly, trying to load her voice with as much empathy as she could. "I can't. You know that."

She tenderly put her hand on his, trying to gently remove his hand from her cheek without hurting his feelings.

"You can," Guy said, taking both her hands in his. "I know you don't want to bind yourself Marianne, and I've respected that. But it's been long enough now. You're 25 and unmarried."

She agitatedly pulled herself from his grasp and turned her back to him, turning to the window. It was black outside. No one was there.

"I've told you how I feel about this.", she said through her teeth, leaning her hands on the window sill. Long strands of hair blew back from her silhouette, floating on the cool summer breeze coming from the open window. "I don't love you."

He took her by the waist and violently turned her back towards him, holding her hard. Her pulled up shoulders made her clavicles stand out beautifully in her wide open neckline.

"That doesn't matter!" he said, desperately trying to persuade her. "If you're married to me no one will dare to accuse you. Your house and your family's belongings will be saved!"

"You have to marry me."

And then he kissed her, for once not thinking about her honour.

***

The kiss overtook her. Marianne tasted the salt on his lips as he kissed her gently with his tongue, with the fervour of a man who had been wanting, but starving himself from something for years. The normal Guy would never do this. He was desperate.

The shock nailed her to the ground and made her unable to say anything. Scared, she kissed him back while trying to push him away, not knowing shat she should do. She could stand her ground in other circumstances, that was for sure, but her against Guy with nothing to use except her own physical strength was no match. He, in his thirties and in the prime of his life, was a thousand times stronger than her. She had seen his muscular arms and strong shoulders often enough.

He only kissed her harder, becoming more passionate. He found her neck, tasting her neck and kissing the dimple of her clavicle.

"Guy," she said, arching back from him even further. "Let me go. We can't do this," she said pleadingly, trying to catch his eyes.

He stopped for a moment, holding her fast and looking at her, before his eyes wandered off again to her body.

"No. I need you Marianne," he said, conflicted. "If you don't want to listen, I will have to make you!" he growled, and he slid his hands in her dress at her shoulders, and pushed it over them.

She struggled to keep him off her as he kissed her fervently and tried to undress her. Unable to undo her laces, he launched her on the bed. She tried to crawl away but he grabbed her legs and pulled her towards him.

He hurdled her skirts up, revealing a long white leg. He reached his hand under, and grabbed her naked hip. She tried to push him away, starting to panic. This was going to happen. She liked him and she felt indebted to him, but she didn't want to marry him. Neither did she want to have sex with him. But she wasn't going to escape.

He ripped his own armour off and pulled his shirt over his head. He towered over her for a moment, sharp features reflecting dimly in the light and black hair waving around his face.

He looked down at her, laying on her back, hands still on his chest. Her face was turned to the side, trying not to look at him. Her long black hair was sprawled on the bed besides her face and body. The laces down the front of her dress were nearly undone, leaving her dress standing slightly open so he could see her skin and a glimp of her breasts in between, heaving heavily. Her skirts were bustled up around her slender waist. Then he laid down on her, pressing her down with his weight, kissing her in her neck.

"You're mine, Marianne." She could smell his male scent as he took her mouth once more and grabbed her breast, over her dress.

Forcefully, he put his knee between her legs and pushed them apart. He undid his breeches and pulled out his hard member, large and standing. She wasn't a virgin, but still she winced and the thought of him splitting her apart. He was going to take her.

***

He couldn't keep control anymore. He had wanted her for so long, having her here half naked before him was simply too much. He hadn't wanted it to be like this, but her stubbornness had brought them here. He loved her and didn't want to hurt her, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't stop himself.

He finally pulled her dress open, at last revealing the beautiful, firm breasts he had imagined so often. His hand covered them completely, kneading their creamy softness while her small hard nipple peaked between his fingers. Then he took her by her waist - god, she was tiny there - and pushed his penis between her skirts.

With his hand he slid it down between her wet lips, and pushed it inside, deep, until the hilt. She let out a muffled cry as he pushed into her. He took her with hard, strong strokes. Resisting didn't matter anymore, and she surrendered to it. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, to brace herself against his blows as he fucked her.

He squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples as he plunged into her, pulling her hard against him and trying to touch as much of her as he could.

He held her strongly in his arms as he came, spurting deep into her. Panting, he pulled out and let her go, crashing down next to her on the bed, leaving her wet and dripping.

She lay next to him, out of breath, and turned her face away from him, absently looking outside the window. He got up and put his breeches and shirt on.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way." He said. "I love you." "I'll leave you to yourself a bit and I'll see you tomorrow, Marianne."

He left and shut the door behind him, leaving her alone, on the bed.