Victoria looked across the breakfast table at her husband. You will not deny me, his incessant whisper echoed in her head. Looking away defiantly, she lifted her chin in determination. She may not have had any say in this farce of a marriage, but neither her father nor her new husband would dictate her body.
She lifted her teacup and glanced in her husband's direction again. His stormy grey eyes were focused on her. His lightly tanned face was flushed with suppressed anger. She held his stare. After nearly five weeks of being married to him, she was less shy about opposing him. Still a maiden, she was. And she intended to be intact when Geoffrey came to reclaim her.
Geoffrey. She dropped her eyes and her mind wandered to her sweetheart. It after he left for a short visit to Vienna that her father forced her to wed Henry Blancheart citing some betrothal arrangement made shortly after her birth. She reluctantly obeyed plotting that when Geoffrey came back they would escape to some romantic part of France and be together forever.
"Are you through, milady?" Henry's wine smooth voice drifted to her.
"If you wish me to be, milord," was her sarcastic response.
A pulse beat at his jaw as he clenched it. Her defiant looks but over polite words had been driving him near insanity since they first met two months ago. He felt her resentment sharply but could not help the lust that rushed to his loins when he let his guard down. He could not temper his desire for her much longer. The moment he had laid his eyes on her, he fantasized about her riding him, grinding her hips unto his own. He straightened his spine. His control was leaving him. This morning as he was seating her, his hand had accidently brushed the side of her left breast. She had stiffened. Only when her enraged eyes had turned to his did he realise that his thoughts had been voiced.
You will not deny me .Victoria wondered how long it would be before he attacked her. As he approached, she could not help but admire the way the cloth of his pants rode along his thigh. She felt an urgent heat rise in her stomach. He pulled out her chair and she stood.
"Excuse me," she said politely and headed to her room. His knuckles gripped the chair back as she sashayed towards the staircase and up the stairs, not once looking back. Damn it all to hell.
In her chamber, Victoria found a folded note on her bed. She opened it. It was from Geoffrey. Her heartbeat quickened as she read the contents. He would meet her that afternoon at the church and from thence to France. He did not fail her. She clutched the letter to her breast and giggled delightedly. She spun around and did so again. The third time she stopped in mid-circle. There stood her husband. His eyes took in her flushed face and then lowered, pinned to her breast where the letter was clutched. Her face grew pale.
"What has excited you so, my dear?" His voice floated to her. She could not respond. She stood rooted as her breath came in short gasps. In two strides he was upon her. He grabbed at the letter.
"No!" she gasped finally regaining the ability to move. She moved her hands and held the letter behind her back. With fury in his eyes, he grabbed her to him grasping at her hands entwined behind her back. They both froze as evidence of his desire surged against his thighs and thrust against her stomach. Her fat breasts were crushed against his hard chest. Their breathing became laboured. They both flushed unable to deny the desire that now held them at ransom. Victoria was torn between physical desire for this man and her emotional commitment to another. He rubbed his manhood against her and her limbs relaxed. The forgotten note fell silently to the floor as his hands encased her derriere. He lifted her a little and as her intimate part rubbed against his, she surrendered. His breath fanned against her lips.
"I'm going to kiss you, milady," he whispered.
"No!" she shouted, breaking the spell. She turned and tried to pull away.
