She felt the fullness of him, felt herself stretching, but the cream made her slick and it didn’t hurt. She felt him deep and hard inside her. She closed her eyes, seeing him. She wondered what he felt when he pushed into her, when he moved inward, then pulled out again.
She said, “What are you feeling when you do this to me?”
Severin’s eyes opened. He stared down at her even as he moved, for he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t bear the thought of stopping. “It is beyond words,” he said, his voice hoarse and raw, deep in his throat.
Trist mewled loudly. But Severin didn’t stop. His eyes closed again.
He felt her womb. He shuddered. But he rested there only for a moment.
he wasn’t moving. He wished she would. He wished in those moments
that she would wrap her legs around his flanks. But of course she wouldn’t.
he was just lying there whilst he heaved and jerked over her. She didn’t
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care. She hated him. The only reason she wasn’t fighting him was because she knew she couldn’t win, not with him inside her holding her down.
He stiffened above her. He could feel her squeezing him, and he knew he couldn’t keep control much longer.
She froze, watching his face, watching his intent expression when he looked down at her, looked down at where his body joined hers. Then he threw back his head and yelled. She felt his seed flood her. He was jerking over her like a palsied man. She didn’t move.
She said very clearly when he finally stilled above her, “You are an animal. I hate you. If another assassin comes after you again, I will smile and invite him to come closer. If you become ill, I will leave you to yourself. Leave me, Severin. Surely I am not skilled enough, nor enthusiastic enough, nor beautiful enough for you to want to do this to me even one more time. Leave me. I pray you’ll leave Alice alone. She doesn’t deserve this. No woman deserves this.”
He came out of her quickly, coming to his feet beside the bed. He was still breathing hard. His marten was staring up at him, motionless beside Hastings’s shoulder. She was very pale, her eyes dilated. But her hands were fists. He turned from her at the knock on the door.
He shouted out, “Who goes?”
“My lord, we have brought back the bathing tub.”
*Kfc6i »*-•-
Severin grunted, went to the door, and opened it. He didn’t allow the servant into the chamber. He lugged the tub into the bedchamber himself, slammed the door, and dumped in the other buckets of water. He looked over at Hastings, who hadn’t moved, then climbed into the tub. His sex was covered with the white cream and with his seed. He hadn’t hurt her. He said over his shoulder as he lathered the lavender soap on the bathing cloth, “Dress yourself and see to my evening meal.”
She said very clearly, “No.”
He twisted around, astonishment writ clear on his face. “What did you say?”
“I said no. I will have nothing further to do with you. You do not
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rve me nor do you deserve Oxborough. My lord Graelam and King Fdward made a grave mistake. My father probably saw right through you,
the kind of man you really are, and recognized a kindred evil. I will have nothing more to do with you, Severin. Nothing.”
“You will come here and wash my back.”
“I will put a knife in your back.”
At that, he rose, water pouring over the sides of the tub. “You threaten me? You, a woman, dare to threaten me?” He struck his palm against his forehead. “I just took you. I probably should not have used the cream. I went easy with you. Do you never learn restraint, woman?”
She simply shook her head, rose from the bed, and walked slowly, bent like an old woman, to where the drying cloth and her bedrobe lay on the floor. She looked weary. He watched her pull on the bedrobe.
“You are very white. If you would but moderate your speech, if you would but tend me when I tell you to, there would be no need for cream, no n^ed for me to have to force my way into your belly. You are supposed to enjoy me, yet you refuse to.”