Moonshine
03-28-2007, 06:58 PM
Part One
The tall, lean Icelandic Viking stood over the unconscious Celtic warrior. He had came to the Welsh seaside hoping for an easy raid on the small fishing village. He planned to take what treasures and woman he could back to his homeland to increase his wealth. Instead, he was met with a fierce defense that had almost made him turn back. He placed his large right hand over the deep wound bleeding from his left shoulder. He had seen the piercing sapphaire blue eyes of is opponent as the dagger entered his shoulder. If it was not for them being a man's, he would have thought them tempting on a woman.
"Cedrick. Cedrick." The strong Viking looked away from the armored warrior towards that of his men, coming up the hill.
"Are you alright my lord," his best friend, Sleig, asked in their native Scandinaviavan tongue.
"Yes," the tall Viking answered, "though this one nearly took my life. He moves like a cat; agile and quick. No matter what I did, he always landed on his feet. Once the sword was removed from his hand, he replaced it with the dagger." The five men looked down at the motionless body; a bloody dagger was still clutched in the unconscious warriors hand.
"How did he get close enough," another asked, the smallness of the dagger was almost laughable.
"Like I said," Cedric Halvard, the eldest son of an Icelandic Viking Chieftain, said, "he moves like a cat. If I hadn't hit him on the side of the head, we'd still be fighting."
Cedric sqatted down and removed the helmet of the unconscious warrior. All the Vikings gasped in unison. The unconscious warrior had long, raven black hair; the heart shaped face revealed what none thought was possible.
"It's a woman," cried one of the men. "You were deeply wounded by a woman." A round of laughs came from all the men except for Cedrick. Not only had his body been wounded by this woman, but now his pride.
"Take her to the ship," Cedric demanded. "I want it clearly understood that she is not to be touched by any man. ANY MAN!!! She's mine!" He started to walk away. Turning back around he looked at the four men left standing there in disbelief. He touched the bleeding wound on his shoulder and looked at the woman lying on the ground before saying, "She has much to answer for."
For two days, the Viking ship sailed towards Iceland. The woman had been between conscious and unconsciousness ever since Cedrick had knocked her out. Several times he had checked on her to see if she had fully came too. Now, he stood over her. Her armor had been stripped from her body. She now laid tied to his bed. Her long raven hair fanned out from her head like a halo; though an angel was the last thing he thought of her as. Her heart shaped face was well tanned. He had checked her eyes and had seen their deep sapphire blue coloring. The same ones that had stared at him as her dagger wounded him. Looking slowly down, he watched as her breasts would rise, then fall with each breathe she took. Her tight male clothing revealed that they would fit his large hands nicely . Her stomach was flat. His eyes continued down, making him wonder what else her male clothing hide from his wondering eyes. Sitting down in a chair opposite his bed, Cedrick sighed. His body slowly drifted into sleep.
The smell of the salt air woke Morgan Chadwick. She didn't know if it was from the throbbing on the side of her head or the rocking of the ship, but she was nauseous. She tried to sit up, but the ropes binding her hands and feet prevented it. In her native Welsh tongue, she screamed to be let go. She watched as a large man ducked to enter the room. He was tall. Very tall. He had to be close to a foot taller than her, if not more. His shoulder length strawberry blonde hair shone from the sunlight coming in from the window and the doorway behind him. His mesmerizing emerald green eyes watched her closely. She recognized him as the Viking that she had been fighting with before losing consciousness. She know realized that she was HIS prisioner.
Morgan watched as the Viking sat down in the chair next to the bed. In her native language, he said, "I am gald to see that you are awake. Allow me to introduce myself. I am..." But before he could say another word, she flatly told him, "I do not care who you are, Viking. To me you are scum." The Viking smiled at her and continued as if she hadn't spoken at all. "I am Cedrick Halvard, the eldest son of Chieftain Rolf Halvard. You are now my servant. I could not trust you in the cargo hold with the other women. I have learned from them just who you are, Lady Chadwick. Over the last few years, I have heard that your father raised you as a son, teaching you how to fight since you were young. I must admitt, I never thought it true until now."
Morgan flinched as the Viking touched her ankle and moved his hand slowly up her leg and thigh, stopping shortly of her virginal womanhood. She froze as he came so close to the one thing she planned to keep intact as long as she could. He gently massaged the area as he continued. "Your beauty, however, was a secret that I had never heard about. What are you? About twenty now?" Removing his hand he stood back up. "You will also pay me back for the wound that you have inflicted upon me." His hand touched his bandaged shoulder, but his eyes never left her. His eyes wondered down and then back up her body.
"I will never do what you want me to do, Viking. Not in your home or in your bed. If you hadn't moved when you did, I would have killed you. What makes you so mad is the fact that a twenty year old female got closer to you than any man ever had. And if given the chance to be that close to you again with my dagger, I WILL KILL YOU!" Morgan screamed the last of her statement at his back as he exited to room. In his thirty-five years, he had never met an opponent, nor woman, who fought as bravely as she.
After reaching Cedrick's home, Morgan was locked in a large room. It had a grand bed, two bureaus, a table and two chairs, a fireplace, that was already lit, a bucket in the corner for her to releave herself in, and a window that over looked the sea. For the first time in a while, her hands and feet were free and she was able to move about as she pleased.
For the next week, the only person Morgan saw was the elderly woman, Anna, who brought her meals and emptied the bucket. So many times Anna had tried to get her to try on the dresses in the bureau, yet she still refused. She preferred the feel of her own clothes. She had yet to see the man that this woman called "master" since she had been placed in the room. Her body may have been adjusting to the colder climate of her new icy homeland, but her fighting spirit would never be froze. She would forever resist him; in every way.
That evening as time drew near for her evening meal, Morgan was surprised when the Viking delivered her meal. She watched from the bed as he entered the room. In his language, he told the man with him to lock the door behind him. She smiled at the fact that he was unaware that Scandinavivan was her second language; just as Welsh was his. She watched him place a tray of food on the table. In her language, he spoke to her, "Please eat with me. We have much to talk about." Deciding to learn what she could of this man, she agreed. She learned that he expected her to be one of his servants. And to be at his "disposal" whenever the need came over him. "Never," she yelled at him when the last expectation was given.
Cedrick dined with Morgan every night for the next month. Her disposition towards him slowly changed. True, deep down she still was a warrior at heart and would fight to the death for herself. Yet, each time she was in his presence, she could feel herself slowly slipping. Twice he had gently, yet passionately, kissed her before she found the strength to shove him away. It was in those moments of weakness, when she felt as if she couldn't draw another breathe or even stand on her weak legs, that she had wanted him to carry her to the bed and have her. Yet her pride wouldn't allow it. Tonight she would surprise him. She would be dressed as the woman she had tried to hide for so long. She would make him want her so badly, that he wouldn't be able to resist her charms and she could escape him. Little did she know that she soon would not want to ever leave his bed.
Cedrick smiled with pleasure, and shock, as he entered Morgan's room that evening and found her dressed in the sparkling blue gown that had hung in one of the bureaus. She had her hair pull up tight against her head in a bun. Her sapphire eyes sparkled like never before against the matching blue gown. The gown pushed her breasts up, almost pushing them out the top of the gown. The fabric seemed to roll off her shoulder and hang sexily about her upper arms. He drew in a deep breath as his eyes continued down to her tight waist, revealing just how flat her stomach really was. He could feel his manhood harden almost instantly. His eyes then went back to her face where a smile of pleasure spread across it.
"I take it that you like the dress, my lord," Morgan asked, smiling at him sexily.
Cedrick sat the tray of food on the table; still unable to remove his eyes from her. Slowly he made his way to her. Taking her cheeks in his hands, he pulled her close to him. He lightly brushed his mouth across hers as he said "yes". He pressed his mouth to hers and pulled her tighter to him. For some time, he explored her mouth with his tongue. His manhood ached as he felt the heat of her body through their clothes.
Pulling back from the embrace, Cedrick asked, "What do want from me woman? First, you tell me that these pleasures will never be mine and that given the chance, you will kill me. Then, you tempt me with kisses that won't let me, nor my loins, forget that you're in my home. And now..., Now you do as I asked and dress as a woman should, causing my heart and loins to want you more than ever before." His hands began to shake her face lightly as his own body shook with the passion he felt for her. "Tell me woman," he demanded, "what do you desire of me?"
"To be free of you," Morgan panted. "To return to my homeland."
Cerdick felt her slip from his fingers. He watched her as she moved away from him and to the window. He could tell that her desire for him, as well as her determination to fight him, were equally strong. He couldn't help but wonder which would win over. She would never leave here. He wouldn't allow her too. She had won his respect as an opponent and his heart, but did she know that. He knew one thing... He was tired of this game. He wanted her.
Cedrick stood behind Morgan. His large arms wrapped around her small waist, holding her tightly to him as he lightly kissed her bare shoulders. A low moan escaped her throat as he kissed the curve of her neck and shoulder. "You're mine now woman," he whispered into her ear. "I'll never let you go. This is your home now. You have won my respect as an equal and my heart." He felt her shake in his arms. Her tears hit his arms. Turning her around he stared at her. "What scares you so much about laying with me," he softly asked as he rubbed her soft check with his rough hand. Lowering her head, she whispered, "You taking it."
Cedrick felt an invisible shove in his chest that could have knocked him over. He had laid with so many women since becoming a man, he had forgotten that some women were still virgins. And the way she fought him in her homeland, he would have sworn that she knew what a man felt like between her legs. But no. In all her bravery, the one thing that terrified her more than anything was laying with a man. Raising her chin, he caught her sapphire eyes with his emerald ones. "I'll be gentle," he promised.
Moments later, Morgan found herself in Cedrick's bedroom. It was much larger than the one she had been confined too. It was set up very much like hers, except the fireplace and the bed was larger. She could feel Cedrick behind her again. His hands rubbed her shoulders before undoing the many buttons that Anna had buttoned for her earlier. Even with the roaring fire, the coolness of the air hit her back and made her shiver. His mouth softly kissed her shoulder again. She felt a stirring in her womanhood that she hadn't felt before. She no longer wanted to leave his home. He had awakened a desire in her that needed to be quenched.
Morgan didn't know for sure when the sleeves had been removed from her arms, but the swiftness of the gown dropping to the floor, bringing the coolness of the air to her legs made her shiver. The corset was now all she had on. Cedrick's rough hand moved between her legs as the other held her tightly to him. His hand gently rubbed that area of her that she had never allowed a man to touch before. She lightly moaned as he made gentle, yet rough circles on her womanhood.
"Cedrick," Morgan moaned. Then, without realizing it, she said in his native language, "That feels so good." "Your virginal heat feels just as good," he answered in his own tongue. It was then that she realized her mistake and gasped. "Don't worry," he said in his own language, "you talked in both languages while unconscious those first few days." Morgan giggled. He had known all along.
Without looking at him, Morgan could tell that Cedrick was removing his own clothes. It wasn't until he held her tightly again, that she feel the tip of his manhood against her naked skin, just below her corset. She froze. She felt him removing the corset. Her breathe caught in her throat; she could neither inhale nor exhale. His hands rubbed her bare breasts. The roughness of them on her sensitive nipples made her remember to breathe. "Oh God," she gasped as she exhaled.
Cedrick smiled as he picked Morgan up and carried her to his bed. He liked the way her arms felt around his neck; her bare breasts against his bare chest, touching the very wound she had caused; her warm womanhood radiating heat to his stomach. He could feel his hard cock lightly touching her soft ass cheek. Laying her down, he then laid next to her. His hand massaged her breasts before sliding down her stomach and to her warmth below. His mouth took in a hard nipple and sucked. He teased her hard nipple before moving to the other, causing his large framed body to cover much small one.
Cedrick kissed his way down Morgan's stomach. The soft raven hair he found matched that on her head. Parting the lips, his kissed the hottest spot of her body, causing her to gasp and then scream with pleasure. He quickly lapped up the juices that spilled gracious from her. As he kissed and sucked at her swollen clit, the thought of having her return the favor crossed his mind. But, then the thought of her plundging the dagger in his shoulder changed his mind. He wasn't ready to place his most favorite part in her mouth just yet, just to have it bit off if her mind changed. No that act would come later.
Cedrick laid himself completely on top of Morgan, but supported his weight with his arms. He smiled as he found that she had closed her legs together again. A look of fear spread over her face as he opened them with his own. "I promise," he said softly as his lips grazed hers, "I'll be gentle." He felt her relax a little as he pushed himself in. "Oh God," she gasped in her native tongue. "Relax," he whispered in her ear, speaking in his native tongue as he pulled back, then again pushed in. A light whimper was all the noise she made. Again he pulled back and then pushed, this time like a battering ram pushing through a secured door. "Cedrick," she screamed as he came to rest in her completely. "I'm in," he said, kissing her forehead. He could feel her shake a little.
Morgan felt the tears stream down her cheek. If this was being gentle, she hated to know what rough was. She could feel him begin to slowly move in her and waited for the pain to come with each in push, but only found a new pleasure. Soon, her body was shaking again, but not from pain. A wave of pleasure rushed through her body, radiating from the spot of their union. The movements he made in her brought her closer and closer to an invisible edge. She screamed with pure joy as she felt herself go over that edge.
Morgan felt her body shake as he rolled the two of them over. Her knees now rested on the bed next to his hips. She felt his hands rubbing her breasts, pushing her up to an up-right position. They then moved to her ass and help her to begin a rythem that was pleasureable for them both. "Oh Cedrick," she gasped. "MMMM"
Morgan looked down at Cedrick, as she rode his shaft. She could tell by the smile on his face, she was doing just as he wanted. She too smiled as she thought, "Why was I so afarid of something that feels this good?" She then felt his shaft hitting a spot in her and wanted more. Again she screamed when her body took all it could handle before releasing her juices again. She fell forward, landing against his chest.
Cedrick again put her below him. He had let her have her release, now he wanted his. He began a new rythem, one slightly faster than hers had been. Soon she was again screaming his name, this time over and over. He felt himself tense and then release. A few more strokes and he let her tight walls milk him of every drop he had.
Cedrick laid there for a moment, looking at Morgan. "I told you that I would be gentle," he said smiling. "And you were," she cooed. Laying himself on his side next to her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. "Let me rest," he said, "I'll show you gentleness again." "Promise," she asked, staring up at him. "Promise."
The tall, lean Icelandic Viking stood over the unconscious Celtic warrior. He had came to the Welsh seaside hoping for an easy raid on the small fishing village. He planned to take what treasures and woman he could back to his homeland to increase his wealth. Instead, he was met with a fierce defense that had almost made him turn back. He placed his large right hand over the deep wound bleeding from his left shoulder. He had seen the piercing sapphaire blue eyes of is opponent as the dagger entered his shoulder. If it was not for them being a man's, he would have thought them tempting on a woman.
"Cedrick. Cedrick." The strong Viking looked away from the armored warrior towards that of his men, coming up the hill.
"Are you alright my lord," his best friend, Sleig, asked in their native Scandinaviavan tongue.
"Yes," the tall Viking answered, "though this one nearly took my life. He moves like a cat; agile and quick. No matter what I did, he always landed on his feet. Once the sword was removed from his hand, he replaced it with the dagger." The five men looked down at the motionless body; a bloody dagger was still clutched in the unconscious warriors hand.
"How did he get close enough," another asked, the smallness of the dagger was almost laughable.
"Like I said," Cedric Halvard, the eldest son of an Icelandic Viking Chieftain, said, "he moves like a cat. If I hadn't hit him on the side of the head, we'd still be fighting."
Cedric sqatted down and removed the helmet of the unconscious warrior. All the Vikings gasped in unison. The unconscious warrior had long, raven black hair; the heart shaped face revealed what none thought was possible.
"It's a woman," cried one of the men. "You were deeply wounded by a woman." A round of laughs came from all the men except for Cedrick. Not only had his body been wounded by this woman, but now his pride.
"Take her to the ship," Cedric demanded. "I want it clearly understood that she is not to be touched by any man. ANY MAN!!! She's mine!" He started to walk away. Turning back around he looked at the four men left standing there in disbelief. He touched the bleeding wound on his shoulder and looked at the woman lying on the ground before saying, "She has much to answer for."
For two days, the Viking ship sailed towards Iceland. The woman had been between conscious and unconsciousness ever since Cedrick had knocked her out. Several times he had checked on her to see if she had fully came too. Now, he stood over her. Her armor had been stripped from her body. She now laid tied to his bed. Her long raven hair fanned out from her head like a halo; though an angel was the last thing he thought of her as. Her heart shaped face was well tanned. He had checked her eyes and had seen their deep sapphire blue coloring. The same ones that had stared at him as her dagger wounded him. Looking slowly down, he watched as her breasts would rise, then fall with each breathe she took. Her tight male clothing revealed that they would fit his large hands nicely . Her stomach was flat. His eyes continued down, making him wonder what else her male clothing hide from his wondering eyes. Sitting down in a chair opposite his bed, Cedrick sighed. His body slowly drifted into sleep.
The smell of the salt air woke Morgan Chadwick. She didn't know if it was from the throbbing on the side of her head or the rocking of the ship, but she was nauseous. She tried to sit up, but the ropes binding her hands and feet prevented it. In her native Welsh tongue, she screamed to be let go. She watched as a large man ducked to enter the room. He was tall. Very tall. He had to be close to a foot taller than her, if not more. His shoulder length strawberry blonde hair shone from the sunlight coming in from the window and the doorway behind him. His mesmerizing emerald green eyes watched her closely. She recognized him as the Viking that she had been fighting with before losing consciousness. She know realized that she was HIS prisioner.
Morgan watched as the Viking sat down in the chair next to the bed. In her native language, he said, "I am gald to see that you are awake. Allow me to introduce myself. I am..." But before he could say another word, she flatly told him, "I do not care who you are, Viking. To me you are scum." The Viking smiled at her and continued as if she hadn't spoken at all. "I am Cedrick Halvard, the eldest son of Chieftain Rolf Halvard. You are now my servant. I could not trust you in the cargo hold with the other women. I have learned from them just who you are, Lady Chadwick. Over the last few years, I have heard that your father raised you as a son, teaching you how to fight since you were young. I must admitt, I never thought it true until now."
Morgan flinched as the Viking touched her ankle and moved his hand slowly up her leg and thigh, stopping shortly of her virginal womanhood. She froze as he came so close to the one thing she planned to keep intact as long as she could. He gently massaged the area as he continued. "Your beauty, however, was a secret that I had never heard about. What are you? About twenty now?" Removing his hand he stood back up. "You will also pay me back for the wound that you have inflicted upon me." His hand touched his bandaged shoulder, but his eyes never left her. His eyes wondered down and then back up her body.
"I will never do what you want me to do, Viking. Not in your home or in your bed. If you hadn't moved when you did, I would have killed you. What makes you so mad is the fact that a twenty year old female got closer to you than any man ever had. And if given the chance to be that close to you again with my dagger, I WILL KILL YOU!" Morgan screamed the last of her statement at his back as he exited to room. In his thirty-five years, he had never met an opponent, nor woman, who fought as bravely as she.
After reaching Cedrick's home, Morgan was locked in a large room. It had a grand bed, two bureaus, a table and two chairs, a fireplace, that was already lit, a bucket in the corner for her to releave herself in, and a window that over looked the sea. For the first time in a while, her hands and feet were free and she was able to move about as she pleased.
For the next week, the only person Morgan saw was the elderly woman, Anna, who brought her meals and emptied the bucket. So many times Anna had tried to get her to try on the dresses in the bureau, yet she still refused. She preferred the feel of her own clothes. She had yet to see the man that this woman called "master" since she had been placed in the room. Her body may have been adjusting to the colder climate of her new icy homeland, but her fighting spirit would never be froze. She would forever resist him; in every way.
That evening as time drew near for her evening meal, Morgan was surprised when the Viking delivered her meal. She watched from the bed as he entered the room. In his language, he told the man with him to lock the door behind him. She smiled at the fact that he was unaware that Scandinavivan was her second language; just as Welsh was his. She watched him place a tray of food on the table. In her language, he spoke to her, "Please eat with me. We have much to talk about." Deciding to learn what she could of this man, she agreed. She learned that he expected her to be one of his servants. And to be at his "disposal" whenever the need came over him. "Never," she yelled at him when the last expectation was given.
Cedrick dined with Morgan every night for the next month. Her disposition towards him slowly changed. True, deep down she still was a warrior at heart and would fight to the death for herself. Yet, each time she was in his presence, she could feel herself slowly slipping. Twice he had gently, yet passionately, kissed her before she found the strength to shove him away. It was in those moments of weakness, when she felt as if she couldn't draw another breathe or even stand on her weak legs, that she had wanted him to carry her to the bed and have her. Yet her pride wouldn't allow it. Tonight she would surprise him. She would be dressed as the woman she had tried to hide for so long. She would make him want her so badly, that he wouldn't be able to resist her charms and she could escape him. Little did she know that she soon would not want to ever leave his bed.
Cedrick smiled with pleasure, and shock, as he entered Morgan's room that evening and found her dressed in the sparkling blue gown that had hung in one of the bureaus. She had her hair pull up tight against her head in a bun. Her sapphire eyes sparkled like never before against the matching blue gown. The gown pushed her breasts up, almost pushing them out the top of the gown. The fabric seemed to roll off her shoulder and hang sexily about her upper arms. He drew in a deep breath as his eyes continued down to her tight waist, revealing just how flat her stomach really was. He could feel his manhood harden almost instantly. His eyes then went back to her face where a smile of pleasure spread across it.
"I take it that you like the dress, my lord," Morgan asked, smiling at him sexily.
Cedrick sat the tray of food on the table; still unable to remove his eyes from her. Slowly he made his way to her. Taking her cheeks in his hands, he pulled her close to him. He lightly brushed his mouth across hers as he said "yes". He pressed his mouth to hers and pulled her tighter to him. For some time, he explored her mouth with his tongue. His manhood ached as he felt the heat of her body through their clothes.
Pulling back from the embrace, Cedrick asked, "What do want from me woman? First, you tell me that these pleasures will never be mine and that given the chance, you will kill me. Then, you tempt me with kisses that won't let me, nor my loins, forget that you're in my home. And now..., Now you do as I asked and dress as a woman should, causing my heart and loins to want you more than ever before." His hands began to shake her face lightly as his own body shook with the passion he felt for her. "Tell me woman," he demanded, "what do you desire of me?"
"To be free of you," Morgan panted. "To return to my homeland."
Cerdick felt her slip from his fingers. He watched her as she moved away from him and to the window. He could tell that her desire for him, as well as her determination to fight him, were equally strong. He couldn't help but wonder which would win over. She would never leave here. He wouldn't allow her too. She had won his respect as an opponent and his heart, but did she know that. He knew one thing... He was tired of this game. He wanted her.
Cedrick stood behind Morgan. His large arms wrapped around her small waist, holding her tightly to him as he lightly kissed her bare shoulders. A low moan escaped her throat as he kissed the curve of her neck and shoulder. "You're mine now woman," he whispered into her ear. "I'll never let you go. This is your home now. You have won my respect as an equal and my heart." He felt her shake in his arms. Her tears hit his arms. Turning her around he stared at her. "What scares you so much about laying with me," he softly asked as he rubbed her soft check with his rough hand. Lowering her head, she whispered, "You taking it."
Cedrick felt an invisible shove in his chest that could have knocked him over. He had laid with so many women since becoming a man, he had forgotten that some women were still virgins. And the way she fought him in her homeland, he would have sworn that she knew what a man felt like between her legs. But no. In all her bravery, the one thing that terrified her more than anything was laying with a man. Raising her chin, he caught her sapphire eyes with his emerald ones. "I'll be gentle," he promised.
Moments later, Morgan found herself in Cedrick's bedroom. It was much larger than the one she had been confined too. It was set up very much like hers, except the fireplace and the bed was larger. She could feel Cedrick behind her again. His hands rubbed her shoulders before undoing the many buttons that Anna had buttoned for her earlier. Even with the roaring fire, the coolness of the air hit her back and made her shiver. His mouth softly kissed her shoulder again. She felt a stirring in her womanhood that she hadn't felt before. She no longer wanted to leave his home. He had awakened a desire in her that needed to be quenched.
Morgan didn't know for sure when the sleeves had been removed from her arms, but the swiftness of the gown dropping to the floor, bringing the coolness of the air to her legs made her shiver. The corset was now all she had on. Cedrick's rough hand moved between her legs as the other held her tightly to him. His hand gently rubbed that area of her that she had never allowed a man to touch before. She lightly moaned as he made gentle, yet rough circles on her womanhood.
"Cedrick," Morgan moaned. Then, without realizing it, she said in his native language, "That feels so good." "Your virginal heat feels just as good," he answered in his own tongue. It was then that she realized her mistake and gasped. "Don't worry," he said in his own language, "you talked in both languages while unconscious those first few days." Morgan giggled. He had known all along.
Without looking at him, Morgan could tell that Cedrick was removing his own clothes. It wasn't until he held her tightly again, that she feel the tip of his manhood against her naked skin, just below her corset. She froze. She felt him removing the corset. Her breathe caught in her throat; she could neither inhale nor exhale. His hands rubbed her bare breasts. The roughness of them on her sensitive nipples made her remember to breathe. "Oh God," she gasped as she exhaled.
Cedrick smiled as he picked Morgan up and carried her to his bed. He liked the way her arms felt around his neck; her bare breasts against his bare chest, touching the very wound she had caused; her warm womanhood radiating heat to his stomach. He could feel his hard cock lightly touching her soft ass cheek. Laying her down, he then laid next to her. His hand massaged her breasts before sliding down her stomach and to her warmth below. His mouth took in a hard nipple and sucked. He teased her hard nipple before moving to the other, causing his large framed body to cover much small one.
Cedrick kissed his way down Morgan's stomach. The soft raven hair he found matched that on her head. Parting the lips, his kissed the hottest spot of her body, causing her to gasp and then scream with pleasure. He quickly lapped up the juices that spilled gracious from her. As he kissed and sucked at her swollen clit, the thought of having her return the favor crossed his mind. But, then the thought of her plundging the dagger in his shoulder changed his mind. He wasn't ready to place his most favorite part in her mouth just yet, just to have it bit off if her mind changed. No that act would come later.
Cedrick laid himself completely on top of Morgan, but supported his weight with his arms. He smiled as he found that she had closed her legs together again. A look of fear spread over her face as he opened them with his own. "I promise," he said softly as his lips grazed hers, "I'll be gentle." He felt her relax a little as he pushed himself in. "Oh God," she gasped in her native tongue. "Relax," he whispered in her ear, speaking in his native tongue as he pulled back, then again pushed in. A light whimper was all the noise she made. Again he pulled back and then pushed, this time like a battering ram pushing through a secured door. "Cedrick," she screamed as he came to rest in her completely. "I'm in," he said, kissing her forehead. He could feel her shake a little.
Morgan felt the tears stream down her cheek. If this was being gentle, she hated to know what rough was. She could feel him begin to slowly move in her and waited for the pain to come with each in push, but only found a new pleasure. Soon, her body was shaking again, but not from pain. A wave of pleasure rushed through her body, radiating from the spot of their union. The movements he made in her brought her closer and closer to an invisible edge. She screamed with pure joy as she felt herself go over that edge.
Morgan felt her body shake as he rolled the two of them over. Her knees now rested on the bed next to his hips. She felt his hands rubbing her breasts, pushing her up to an up-right position. They then moved to her ass and help her to begin a rythem that was pleasureable for them both. "Oh Cedrick," she gasped. "MMMM"
Morgan looked down at Cedrick, as she rode his shaft. She could tell by the smile on his face, she was doing just as he wanted. She too smiled as she thought, "Why was I so afarid of something that feels this good?" She then felt his shaft hitting a spot in her and wanted more. Again she screamed when her body took all it could handle before releasing her juices again. She fell forward, landing against his chest.
Cedrick again put her below him. He had let her have her release, now he wanted his. He began a new rythem, one slightly faster than hers had been. Soon she was again screaming his name, this time over and over. He felt himself tense and then release. A few more strokes and he let her tight walls milk him of every drop he had.
Cedrick laid there for a moment, looking at Morgan. "I told you that I would be gentle," he said smiling. "And you were," she cooed. Laying himself on his side next to her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. "Let me rest," he said, "I'll show you gentleness again." "Promise," she asked, staring up at him. "Promise."