Innocent Pawn Ch. 01bywishfulthinking©
"My Lord," a thin man with a shock of white hair appeared in the entrance to the study.
"Jean-Claude," Leonn de Angel acknowledged his footman without glancing up, his quill flowing across the page in stark, bold script without pause.
"de Lauriers' man requests an audience. He believes he has something that is of great interest to you."
"Ah," Leonn murmured, resting the quill in the inkpot and leaning back in his leather chair to observe the servant patiently awaiting his orders.
Picking up his ruby encrusted dagger, he fingered the sharp tip. A sudden smile flicked across his face, a strange mixture of triumph and hatred.
"Show him in," Leonn ordered.
Jean-Claude bowed and silently departed to return a short time later with a man at his heels.
de Lauriers' man was dark as night, a fact which was further emphasised by the black leather breaches and vest. A long sword swung from his hip, the only weapon visible to the eye.
Leonn rose gracefully to his feet, easily the tallest man in the room. "Cain," he greeted. The black man bowed. "Stand up, there is no formality between us. Especially after knocking you on your ass on the practice field."
White teeth flashed momentarily in the dark face before he nodded in acknowledgement.
"What brings you to my door?" Leonn asked, folding his arm across his broad chest.
"My lord sends a token of his gratitude for your continued support." No more was said of the betrayal of one of de Laurier's closest aids that played a pivotal role in his father's death six-month's earlier.
"Such gifts are not necessary between friends," Leonn replied. "However, please convey my deepest gratitude to your lord for such an unexpected gift."
Cain nodded before striding to the door and barking out an order. A man quickly appeared carrying a young maid.
Leonns's amber eyes narrowed as they slowly moved over the unconscious form, taking in the cloud of scarlet that hid her face from view, the simple gray gown and the pink toes that peeked out from beneath the voluminous hem.
Leonn bid the man to place her on the low leather couch near the stone fireplace, his face impassive. Both Cain and Leonn remained silent as the man gently laid the tiny form on the couch before turning to leave.
"This is Isabella Margerite d'Alsace, the only living child of Count Fredrich d'Alsace," Cain said finally after the man had left.
"Isabella," Leonn murmured, testing the sound of her name on his lips. The daughter of the man responsible for the brutal slaying of Leonn's father. His hands clenched at his sides at the thought of victory so close at hand.
"I've had my men scouting England and France for traces of her existence for the past six months, with no trace of her," Leonn said, finally dragging his gaze from his prize. "Where did your men discover her?"
"A convent in the French Alps, my Lord," answered Cain. "A novice willingly gave over the information in exchange for her freedom."
"Freedom from the convent or from you?" Leonn inquired silkily.
"Why the convent, my lord. A right willing wench when she got the hang of things."
"And the girl?" Leonn asked with a casualness he was far from feeling.
"Untouched by my men. She yet claims to be a virgin."
"We shall see." Leonn slid open a draw and flipped the lid of a heavy silver box. He withdrew a pouch and tossed it to Cain. Leonn knew Cain and his men would be paid by de Laurier, but they had accomplished what his had not, and for that they deserved to be richly rewarded.
"You are most generous, my lord," Cain murmured, his astonishment at the Leonn's generosity quickly masked. "My men will no doubt be equally gratified."
"My servant will escort you and your men to the kitchens. Cook will see to your needs."
Cain bowed, realising he had been dismissed, and quickly departed.
Leonn moved to sit on the edge of the large mahogany desk, his arms crossed before him as he gazed thoughtfully upon his captive. She lay motionless on the couch, her fragile wrists bound with cloth. The fingers were long and shapely, the nails perfect pink ovals. Glossy scarlet waves hid her face from view, and Leonn's eyes traced the silken fronds where they fanned over the small peaks that rose and fell in soft, even breaths. The rest of her figure was a mystery, hidden beneath the heavy folds of her gray novice's attire.
Leonn moved silently toward the unaware creature. Her beauty, or lack of, was irrelevant for his purposes. She would succumb to his touch, willingly or not, and carry his bastard in her belly. And when the timing was right, she would be the bait to lure her murderous father from the depths of his hiding place.
Kneeling beside the couch, he withdrew his dagger and grasped her bound wrists in one large palm and effortlessly sawed through the cloth. Guessing her legs to be similarly bound, he pushed up the heavy gray skirts to reveal surprisingly dainty ankles and sliced through the bonds. Intrigued, he ran an exploratory hand up over the smooth creamy skin to circle her knee. When she did not move, he tugged her unresisting creamy thighs apart, intent on discovering the mysteries of his unconscious captive. His palm glided along her soft inner thigh, drawing the heavy cloth as he went. Intent of discovering on whether the crowning glory at the apex of her thighs matched the fiery scarlet mane, he was startled from his intense perusal by the sudden snap of her knees together, capturing his hand in the silky prison of her thighs.
~ * ~
Pretending to be unconscious while the man cut her bonds to all her nerve, and she almost fainted from shock at the feel his hands delving beneath her skirts. Never before in all her nineteen years had a man dared to touch her so brazenly. Unable to observe his movements through her tangled scarlet mane covering her face, she had laid passively while with slow, furtive movements her fingers closed around the small knife she had hidden in the loose folds of her sleeve.
As the intrusive hand snaked up her inner thigh, she knew she had to strike before the slight tremor his touch caused gave away her conscious state. She snapped her thighs together, seeking to trap his hand there as she blindly brought the knife down, intent on doing as much harm as she could with her obscured vision.
He swore as the blunt knife caught him, and his free hand seized her wrist in a crushing grip, twisting it painfully so that tears of agony welled in her eyes. His other hand wrenched from between her legs as the knife fell unheeded to the fur rug, ripe with the colour of fresh blood.
"Traitorous bitch," he muttered as his fingers tangled in her mane, tugging her head back in an unyielding grip, causing her to whimper in pain.
"Let go of me," she gasped. His only response was to tug harder. Stormy green eyes, swimming with tears, met fiery amber ones.
"You will learn to obey me," he muttered furiously. "I will not tolerate disobedience. I have ways of punishing you that will have you begging for mercy."
At that he let her go and she cringed back into the leather cushions, trying to keep as much distance as she could between them. The fierce determination and hatred blazing out of a face more beautiful than a fallen angel burned into her memory like an imprint.
He picked up the bloodied knife and rose with cat-like grace to his feet. She watched in fearful breathlessness as he moved away from her, tearing at the rich fabric of his sleeve. She knew who he was from the awed whispers around the band of men that had wrenched her so brutally from the safe haven of the convent at sword-point, and kept her bound and drugged as they traveled speedily to the southern regions of France. Leonn de Angle, the Golden Lion.
"Merely a scratch." He curtly informed his unsympathetic captive. She eyed the distance between the couch and the door with trepidation. Could she?
"Yet your disobedience cannot go unpunished." She blinked, focusing wide green eyes on the tall man with unusual burning amber eyes set in a tanned face framed by the fall of long straight golden hair. She was unable to the heated look in his eyes as he gazed down at her tiny, defenseless figure as he muttered those words. "Stand up," he ordered. When she didn't move, he said very quietly, "now."
Something in his tone of voice alerted her to the impending danger should she dare refuse him, and she slid slowly and unsteadily to her feet. Only when she stood defiantly before him, her slender frame draped in the enveloping folds of her gray novice's gown, her stormy green eyes staring fixedly at a point beyond his shoulder, did he speak again.
"Take off your clothes."
The breath caught in her throat, and her eyes slid to his in shock. When she simply stood there aghast, he closed the distance between them and grasped the neckline of her gown and tore the fabric with a rendering rip, exposing the rosy tips of her breasts clearly visible through her thin wispy chemise. Using both hands this time he ripped the heavy material to the hem and roughly pushed the cloth from her shoulders so that it fell in a tattered pool at her feet.
She backed away from him as his eyes flickered intently over her skimpy chemise, trying to put as much distance as possible between them. A gasp escaped her as his fingers stretched out and wrapped around her tiny wrist, dragging her up against his chest.
"Don't," she cried, but is was no use as his mouth settled on hers, his fingers tangling in the curls at her nape. He ignored her struggles as his mouth tasted hers, and she moaned against him as she felt fingers curl around the back of her chemise, yanking down hard on the fine fabric. She tore her mouth from his, moisture beading her lashes as he held her firm in the circle of his arms. Her fingers desperately held the flimsy material against her breasts, but he was stronger, his hands tearing it from her slender body.
"Now why couldn't you have done that yourself?" he queried softly, his amber eyes raking over her with slow intent. She was an alluring nymph as she stood trembling before him, the perfection of the silky expanse of milky skin contrasting heavily against the rich vibrant mane that tumbled to her bottom. The flickering firelight played shadow games with the crests and valleys of her delicious young body, making his fingers itch to explore every inch.
She refused to cover herself, glaring straight ahead with her hands clenched at her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut as his fingers pinched a rosy tipped breast. She trembled as the hand trailed lower, down over her belly to delve in the soft fleece at the apex of her thighs.
Involuntarily she stepped back, and he laughed, following her, until she was pressed up against the wall. She swallowed hard as a large palm splayed over her belly, holding her firm as his other hand delved between her quivering thighs, gently tracing the shy pink lips.
A blush heated her cheeks as he gazed down at her, watching every expression flicker across her guileless face as he caressed her there. She tried to fight him, her tiny fists pushing ineffectually at the unyielding wall of his broad chest, but he shifted his body, pressing her hard against the wall as he peeled her lips apart, his finger gently rubbing her pink flesh. She whimpered as he continued to massage her there, and soon she felt an unfamiliar sensation begin to unfurl low in her belly.
She moaned as his head dipped and his mouth captured hers, pressing her head back against the wall as he forced her to accept his kiss. She was sinking under the new sensations as his fingers teased her innocent flesh, and she couldn't prevent her hips arching into his caresses. Taking that as a signal, he picked her up in his solid arms as though she weighed nothing and strode over to the large the mahogany desk. He swept his arm impatiently across its surface, scattering papers onto the floor, and deposited her on her back on the warm wood, her legs dangling over the edge. With determined hands he pushed her legs up so the soles of her feet lay flat on the surface, her toes curling over the edge.
"Please don't," she pleaded softly, not sure what he intended to do as his hands slid between her bent knees and pushed them far apart so that they almost touched the desk on either side.
"Has any man touched you here?" he asked softly, his tall frame leaning over her as his finger gently brushed over the curls protecting her secret place. Golden amber eyes bored into hers as she silently shook her head, her eyes pleading with him to end this unknown torture.
"Has a man ever kissed you here?"
Her body arched as his cruel mouth closed over the tingling flesh of her breast, sucking and nibbling in unending torment.
"No," she choked out, tears welling in her eyes as her body arched against his mouth of it's own accord.
His drew his head back to gaze down at her troubled face as his thumb leisurely circled the pink nub nestled between her legs. She felt a trickle of warmth in that forbidden place and she moaned in shame.
"Have you ever touched yourself here?"
"Stop," she gasped, her hands gripping the edge of the desk as he circled that sensitive flesh.
"Have you?" he demanded, flicking the throbbing nub.
"No, it's a sin," she cried as her treacherous body stirred against the sensations his touch wrought.
"There is no sin in pleasure," he whispered, leaning over her and brushing his lips against hers. Her protests were cut off as his mouth slanted over hers in a gentle but firm kiss, moving slowly and inexorably over hers until she became used to the unfamiliar caress of his tongue. Overwhelmed by the gentle tutoring of his warm mouth, she froze when a caressing finger began probing her, circling her dewy gate before sliding slowly up inside of her.
She whimpered against his mouth as she felt herself stretched around the invading digit. "No," she gasped, tearing her mouth from his and beating at him with her small fists. She bucked her hips, trying to dislodge the intruding finger, and gasped as it slid up deeper inside of her. He caught her wrists in his large palm, pinning them effortlessly above her head. She continued to struggle, but the strong body wedged between her legs prevented her from closing them against his invasion as his finger caressed her tight walls. Her eyes widened as another finger slid up inside of her, stretching her tight walls uncomfortably as it joined its mate. Soon she was moaning as his fingers rocked inside of her in a furious rhythm, her young body instinctively clenching and unclenching around him as she was unable to fight the growing sensations that sought to overwhelm her. She felt a coiling tension begin low in her belly, winding tighter and tighter until she felt as though she would snap from frustration. Her breathing was ragged, her soft moans filling the room.
His finger stilled inside of her, and she moaned in distress. "Please," she cried, no longer sure if she was asking him to stop this torment.
"Beg me to make you come," he breathed in her ear, and goose pimples rose on the back of her neck.
When she wouldn't, couldn't answer, his thumb leisurely circled her nub, causing her to cry out.
"Tell me you want me touching you were no other man has, making you spend on my fingers,"
"Please," she whispered, her hips pushing against his motionless hand, silently urging him to continue his depraved attentions.
"Say the words, and your punishment will be over." His tongue wrought havoc in the delicate pink shell of her ear.
As his large palm closed over her breast, the thumb sliding teasingly over a stiff nipple, his strange words penetrated the hazy fog of excitement shrouding her mind. "Punishment," she thought silently to herself. This was what he meant by punishment.
"N-no," she gasped uncertainly, her thoughts cloudy. She shook her head from side to side as his fingers quickly retreating from her burning flesh.
"No?" he asked harshly, his breathing uneven as the silence was drawn out. She whimpered as his mouth closed over a hard tip, sucking it deep into his mouth as his fingers slid down over her belly to lightly circle her dewy entrance.
"Oh, god," she cried, her hips arching as a finger slid a fraction inside of her. She bit her lip as he wiggled the tip of his finger in her damp folds, her legs quivering.
"Say it," he demanded.
"I – I want your hands."
"Where?" he demanded cruelly.
"In my, in my-."
"Pussy," he breathed against her damp breast. "Say it."
"In my pussy," she whimpered, beads of moisture coating her lashes. She moaned as his fingers plunged into her snug channel.
"Ride my fingers." She did as he ordered, her creamy bottom lifting off the desk and then hitting its surface with a humiliating slap as she did what he asked, lost to the sensation.
"That's it," he murmured, releasing her hands as he kneeled on the floor between her legs so that she felt his warm breath on her dampness. She bucked off the surface of the table when she felt the stab of his tongue against her nub, creating an intense spike of pleasure deep in her rippling sheath. Her fingers slid through the dark glossy waves, dragging him closer. She was unable to resist the incredible tide building inside of her, her bottom spanking the wooden surface as she sunk down on his fingers, then lifting up to feel the rasp of his tongue wiggling in her dewy folds.
She moaned as his fingers withdrew, only to gasp as she felt his tongue pushing up into her slick channel. Shivers traced down her spine as his tongue unfurled deep inside of her, seeking out every last drop of moisture as she bucked beneath his caresses. His hands caught her inner thighs, holding her spread apart as his skilful tongue sent her untutored body up in flames.
Her moans filled the room, her head shaking side to side as she sought to resist the mindless sensations washing over, pushing her to some unknown peak.
Her whole body tightened as his finger brushed her hard nub, her hips arching before bucking wildly against his hand and mouth, barely restrained by his firm grip, her head rolling from side to side as she lost control.
Slowly reality returned, and she became aware of her surroundings, the stone walls lined with books, the flickering of the fire. Her body felt heavy and limp, unwilling to move from where she lay sprawled wantonly on the desk, her legs splayed in innocent abandon over the side.
She felt his arms slide under her, lifting her, carrying her along long halls and winding staircases. Finally she felt the softness of a feather mattress at her back, and hands pushing her tangled mane back from her damp face. She was unable to resist the long and slow kiss he forced on her, and she blushed when she tasted what must be herself on his lips.
"Come, you are exhausted," he murmured as he tucked the blankets around her nakedness. "It was not my intention to begin your lessons so soon," he said as he took her small hand and placed it against the rock hard flesh straining the cloth across his hips. "But know that your defiance will not go unpunished."
He groaned as her fingers unconsciously flexed against his cock. He kissed away her murmur of confusion, and she snuggled drowsily in her warm nest so that she was asleep before the bolt on the outside of the solid metal door thundered home.
He strode through the castle, intent on finding a willing wench to ease the demands of his painfully hard cock before he changed his mind and drove himself forcefully into the young novice. He felt a deep satisfaction that she was the virgin she claimed, and it was past time she experienced the fullness of a man between her soft thighs, yet he intended her to be fully awake when he tore through that final barrier. His cock hardened as the mere thought of his exquisite captive, yet he knew his present discomfort was of little consequence when the knowledge of the weeks of pleasure that lay before him as he plundered his innocent captive's body at whim loomed in his mind.