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The assassin's mark

Date: 10/24/2014, Categories: Seduction, Author: LibraryCat, Rating: 8, Source: LushStories

hands. He walked up behind her and pulled her to him. It was a moment of sheer pleasure. The moment ended abruptly when she spun away, pulling a dagger from the innumerable folds in her skirt. He took a single step forward, a step she had not anticipated. He came up hard against her, gripping her wrist with one hand and her waist with the other. He pushed her to the wall, where he took advantage of her softness and pressed his hips into her. He suppressed a groan. The noise was still torn from his throat when he said, "No need for that." He sounded harsh, guttural. He twisted her wrist sharply. Startled, she let go of the dagger. He saw the keen edge glimmer as it fell. The clattering as it hit the ground sounded hollow. He twisted her impossibly, until they were in an embrace that she could not break free of. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the room he had purchased. As he shut the door, she took a mental inventory of the exits. Two windows, one door. He shoved the door shut. The sound was like a gavel in it's finality. He pushed her back until she fell on the bed. She had decided to play the whore to keep him here, and attack him as he undressed. She realized as he turned away to lock the door that she had left her killing dagger on the floor of the storeroom. She would have to use one of her others. She began to slide her hand along her bodice, to the bottom edge, where her second-best dagger was concealed. He turned back to her, feeling heavy, hot, and ... hungry. She was touching herself, running her hand down her side. Her legs were splayed under her skirt, and she had lost one of her shoes. Her bare foot hung over the edge of the bed, resting on nothing. He shrugged his cloak and vest to the floor. He came to her and kneeled on the bed. He pushed one boot off. It hit the floor with a surprisingly loud noise. She jumped. He chuckled as he kicked off the other boot and lay on her. She was breathing hard. He put his mouth on her neck, tasting her pulse as he pushed up her skirts and undid her braid, letting her hair spill over the blankets in glorious disarray. Her hands were on his arms but he did not heed her. He was unbuckling his belt. She could see that he was ready. She lay still now, afraid of him. This was a depraved man. He knew his enemy and sought to ruin her before he killed her. And she had no doubt now that he would kill her. He gazed at her with eyes blazing heat. How he must hate her, and yet he would still ravish her. He narrowed his eyes when she had no response to him. No response wasn't good enough. He threw his belt aside and lay on her again, but this time his hand snaked between them and tore her vest. She made a sound, an angry noise, and fought him. He pushed himself against her undergarments, rubbing himself on her. She shuddered and went still again. Smiling, he unlaced her shirt, pulling the material aside to expose one round breast. Her back arched of its own accord. His huge hand on her breast sent a ...