Title: Loyal Traitor
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Gawain is captured by Woads, and escapes death by seducing a Druid's daughter.
Author's Note: This began as a project for university…but you know how it is. This story is a dose of my usual, therefore quite strongly an NC-17…graphic sex, gorgeous men, situations that could be perceived as bondage…but I will not apologise for my imagination. It is a curse… sighs Go on, review, you know you want to…:P
(The use of the term 'citadel' is used to fit in with the context of which I write the legends…in my mind, the forest of Laddrwys overlooks Badon Hill. So it is a Woad fortress, looking over a Roman city/town/fortress.)
Gawain felt himself dragged into the enemy's earthen citadel. Rough hands gripped at his shoulders, shoving him to his knees, and he groaned aloud as he fell. His forehead rested against the muddy ground, and he heard distorted voices all around him, a quick foreign tongue that curled around each syllable like poison. The rough linen of his blindfold scratched against his face, and he tasted his own hair in his mouth. Where was he? In the woods of Laddrwys still? The savage territory? Any man who entered past the dead trees which surrounded it, soldier or not, would never return again. And if they did? Well, it was in the form of a decapitated head. Severed and thrust onto an iron spear, and warding off both enemy and friend alike.
Laddrwys was a cursed land. The last remaining fortress of angry heathens.
An unnatural growl sounded to the Sarmatian's side. Although from human or beast, Gawain was unsure. But indeed, he had little time to ponder upon it as a large and strong hand grabbed him by the hair, thrusting his face upwards to an unknown observer. The knight heard murmurs, the sound of blade hitting bone nearby, and then the comforting hiss of wind rushing through the trees. A leer marked his blood and mud-stained face, and his hair was released abruptly. So abruptly, that his head was thrust forwards again.
Snarling, Gawain turned to his unknown captor. He could not see, his hands were bound, and his body ached from defeat. A large wound on his shoulder was bleeding into the fabric of his tunic, and he bit back the pain. He had nothing left to lose…and he was not about to die like this. He was a Sarmatian knight, who fought with vigour and who didn't fear death; he attempted to struggle to his feet. If he were to die, it would be because he had fought and failed to surrender. Not bound and tethered like a misbehaved dog.
His efforts were silenced however, as a heavy staff struck him hard between the shoulder blades. He couldn't fight the gasp that escaped his lips as he fell forwards once again. And this time, he tasted blood.
"Why do you stray onto my soil, Sarmatian? Were the eyeless skulls of your comrades not enough to chill your soul?"
Gawain's anger and frustration fleeted quickly from his form, and he raised himself up warily. Turning his head, he tried to locate the voice. The voice which spoke mockingly, and in his own tongue. He could not deny the chant-like sound to it, the way it seemed to sing each word in a hard and rasping timbre. It was almost how he imagined a corpse to speak, had it woken up in hell.
Retorting, Gawain forced a bitter laugh. "Why do you bind a man before torturing him? Yours are coward's methods."
There was a silence, and no voice dared to speak. Gawain could have sworn to have heard several heathen's hold in a deep and afflicted breath, but indeed, this quiet was barely ephemeral. Angry shouts erupted around him, and Gawain smirked. The more trouble he could inflict upon the bastards, the better chance he would have of being untied and allowed to die like a warrior.
Hearing footsteps, Gawain sat up straight. His backside rested on the muddy backs of his boots, and he used nimble fingers to feel for the dagger that was hidden inside them.
"You think that I must blind you to torture you, child?" The voice drawled a cruel laugh, and Gawain spat on the ground. He opened his dry lips to curse, but was silenced as the speaker continued. "Nay. I would certainly let you see everything did I wish you to die slowly. For there is nothing more satisfying then seeing fear in your enemy's eyes…"
"Then un-blind me so that I can see the own fear in your face…moments before I slice you open and take your head back to Rome." Gawain paused, smiling grimly. "I'm sure I could offer them drinks from your skull, but I doubt they'd accept it."
"Drinking from a Druid's head brings good luck to his enemies, but is amusing to see you are familiar with our customs."
Gawain heard two figures move closer to him, and he tipped his forehead towards the ground. If he could jump quickly to his feet and spin on his heel, he might just succeed in knocking them both of them over, using his tied hands as a weapon. But indeed, what would he do next? He retorted again, attempting to bide the time to think…
"I am Sarmatian, a man of Artorius Castas. A Britain. I serve under Rome because it is my charge, a charge done by my parents, and my parent's parents. If you kill me, you do not kill a Roman."
A loud laugh echoed about the trees, and leaves rustled from every side. Gawain felt a chill attack his senses and he shivered sharply. That hadn't exactly been the reaction he had hoped for…
The dark voice spoke again, this time closer to his ear. He smelt the wreaking breath of his unknown captor, and wrinkled his nose against it. Both to mock him and to avoid the smell.
"Serving under a Roman makes you hostile company in my eyes, child. And you shall be punished for it. My men will cut you limb from limb, and I shall feed your soul to the dogs of the Gods."
A hard hand pushed against Gawain's face, and another gripped his head tightly. So tightly that the knight struggled to breathe, and felt his own consciousness fade. His green eyes widened, and he attempted to move away from the sudden pressure…to no avail. His legs kicked out awkwardly, attempting to knock away his attacker. But it was too late…He couldn't breathe…
"But first, you will surrender to me."
8888
Gawain sat alone, beaten and tied to a weeping willow. The distant sound of voices convinced him that he was far away from the Woad camp, and his captives visited only occasionally to spit insults and kick at his weary and defenceless body. On two nights, several children had visited him, and Gawain recognised their age through the childish taunts that were thrown. He'd laughed at their attempts, raising his knees and leaning back against the tree he'd been bound to. They wouldn't have dared raise a finger against a Sarmatian knight if he had an axe in his hand. But indeed, he had had strength back then.
Now his mouth was dry, and he had not tasted food for several days. He wondered that if his blindfold was removed, whether he would be able to see anyway. For his head hung limply against his chest, and he breathed in short raspy breaths. He was alive, but only barely…
His mind strayed back to Badon, back to the knights in the tavern. Back to the large mugs of ale which decorated the tabletops like jewellery on a market stall. Feeling his stomach growl, he licked his lips.
A footstep in the undergrowth caught his attention, and he raised his head sharply.
"What bastard is it this time?" He spat, although his words lacked their usual vigour and threat. He was weary, too weary to engage in violent conversation. "Go tell Merlin that I still live, and that the blood in my veins grows thicker at the prospect of removing his head!"
Gawain received no answer, and frowned darkly. He threw back his head, resting it against the rough bark of the willow tree, listening. Through the gentle breezes that caressed the leaves above him, he could make out small and delicate footsteps on the earthen ground, and he heard them move slowly around the tree. Indeed, Woads were trained to move as such. Like ghosts, they were not seen until too late…but this one was clumsier then the others. And Gawain smirked as realisation hit.
"You are a woman." He stated. A lazy and tired smile crossed his lips.
A light laugh sounded from beside him, and Gawain knew he'd assumed right. There was no hostility in her voice, no cruelty or ill intention, and the mere sound was music to his ears. If he'd heard such a laugh at Badon, he would have followed the owner of it around all night…before seducing her to his bed. But not now. He was tied, unable to move, and yet he was still living enough to pursue his curiosity.
"How you know?" The woman asked with a clumsy grasp of his language, and Gawain knew she was close. He heard the rustle of fabric beside him, and summoned enough strength to raise his knees upwards.
"Because you don't stink like your brothers."
The woman laughed again, and Gawain relaxed the smile from his face. It was then however, that he felt the hard edge of a bowl on his lips. The utensil was tipped upwards, and the silky coolness of water rushed over his mouth. He groaned against the fluid, gulping down as much as he could take. This was not a lot though, and the woman soon withdrew it to stop the man from choking. His throat burned, but the pain was somewhat pleasurable. Almost a release.
Letting out a rattled breath, he licked his lips. He felt his tongue become supple again, and he smiled.
"I could kiss you for that."
There was silence again, but the woman did not move. Gawain could hear her quiet breaths beside him, and heard the quiet chink of the bowl as it was placed to the ground. He waited, unsure of what to expect next. Had she only replenished his thirst to then feed him the dusty dirt of the woodland ground, or maybe she'd come to cut out his tongue? Gawain clamped his lips firmly shut.
"I would wash your face. You allow it?" She spoke timidly, and Gawain breathed out a sigh of relief. So she was not here to remove his tongue…
But still, she was a Woad. And part of the clan that held him captive, part of the clan that had beaten him most nights and allowed him to live to the edge of starvation. Frowning suddenly, he spoke reproachfully. "Why?"
"Your face is…ihas/i mud on it, and blood too. Your blood. Blood from your wound." The answer was innocent, and her voice honest. Gawain sensed the ignorance behind her words, heard it in each sentence she struggled to form coherently. He heard her hands dip into the bowl of water, and understood her reasoning for wanting to save some.
"That was not what I asked." He spoke, his voice serious and slightly bolder from the drink. He could feel the coolness of it in his belly, and he would have sighed aloud, had it not been for the woman so nearby. If he had nothing else, he had his pride.
An impatient groan escaped her lips, and she clicked her tongue before answering. "You ask too many questions when I want to help you."
Gawain laughed bitterly, sensing the awkwardness in her voice. Somehow, he doubted that she was supposed to be here.
"If you wish to help me, then take the blindfold off…so that I can see the goodly spirit that comes to my aid."
The woman ignored his words, and Gawain merely smiled. He would have retorted further, had it not been for the sudden feel of her wet palms upon his cheeks, stroking and caressing the dirt from his skin. It felt good, and the water ran down into his beard. The Woad smoothed her thumbs over his cheekbones, and finally up over the bridge of his nose. Groaning aloud, he tipped to head back against the tree to give her better access.
Shifting in her seat, Gawain heard the woman shuffle forwards, and in that moment, he saw the map of his escape. If he could beckon her close enough, then he might just be able to use his legs to grip and hold her hostage. He could press his knees against her throat, break it like a twig…well at least threaten to. He would force her to untie him first, and her body would have to be pressed up close for that. Not an entirely bad notion…
Smiling, Gawain put his plan to action.
"My wound…" He started, shuffling against the tree trunk. "If it is not cleaned, it will become infected."
Gawain felt her withdraw her hands from his face, and he turned his head in her direction. Oh, if only he could see…
"Please?" He probed, biting his bottom lip for effect. "I have seen warrior's wounds when they get infected. They begin to rot, and can eventually give them fever…"
Still, no answer.
Gawain grew impatient, and his voice took on a harder and more derisive tone. "If Merlin wants me alive for my dismemberment, then you had best do as I ask. If it becomes infected, woman, I will be dead in two days. Maybe less."
"Merlin may destroy you tonight, or tomorrow morning!" The Woad spat, and Gawain heard her hurry to her feet. She knocked the bowl of water over in the process, and the knight felt the fluid seep into his breeches.
"Wait!" Gawain called out, realising that his only chance of escape was about to flee back into the forest. He kicked his legs out flat, sighing loudly and praying that the woman had actually stopped in her tracks. "At least take the blindfold off. So that I may see my last night on this earth?"
The Sarmatian could not fail to smile as he heard the woman's footsteps once more, striding impatiently in his direction. Kneeling between his legs, he felt her breath on his face as she leant around to untie his blindfold. He attempted to concentrate on his legs, trying to calculate when would be the best time to trap her between them…but he was distracted. Distracted because she leant so close to his face, and her breaths brushed against his lips as she fiddled clumsily with the knot.
When the fabric was finally loosened, the woman withdrew it slowly from his face. Gawain had not realised that his eyes had been closed all the time, and opened them only when the blindfold was gone. His thickly lashed eyes fluttered open, and his green eyes behold the beauty in front of him.
The woman was unmistakably beautiful, and nothing akin to the whores of Badon. No, her face was small and round, her eyes a sharp and innocent blue which seemed to look at the ground when she caught him staring. She was something of a fairy's child, her small pink lips pouted in a coltish fashion, and her dark and unruly hair hung about her face in rivets. Her skin was painted a dark blue, as was the small animal pelt that covered her body.
"Do not look at me." She whispered, her gaze set on the earth. She did not however, move from between his legs, and he raised his knees slowly.
"Why?" He asked, an amused smile teasing at his lips as he readied his legs for their attack. "I did not ever think she see such a beautiful Woad, especially one who speaks my tongue…"
A rose blush spread over her cheeks, and Gawain cocked his head the side. For some reason, he felt suddenly much better, and he cast a glance down to his knees.
"Perhaps I should take you with me when I escape…?"
The Woad looked up suddenly, but it was too late. Gawain lifted his legs up over her shoulders, trapping her neck between his kneecaps. She let out a child-like squeal of protest, before attempting to lift her hands. The knight shut his legs closer to each other, putting more pressure on her neck and locking her arms underneath them. She curled her hands around to his thighs, attempting to scratch him…but indeed, he merely laughed at her efforts. His breeches were thick, and for once he had something to thank the British weather for.
"Scream and I'll break your neck." He growled, watching as she stopped struggling against him. She drew her hands away from his thighs, resting them in the mud beneath them.
The woman narrowed her eyes at the knight, and Gawain shrugged his shoulders. He used his legs to pull her as close as possible, feeling as she resisted his movements. Though it was to no avail. He dragged her forwards on her knees, and pulled lightly at the bond that tied his hands.
"Now if you'd be so kind, my little rescuer…" The woman narrowed her eyes as he spoke, and he continued with the same roguish grin. "Untie my hands and you can go free."
"You will kill me if I do. You cannot have me return to the others, I know."
Gawain raised his eyebrows, tightening his grip on her throat. The Woad let out a chocked cough and retched violently as a result, and the knight relaxed his knees soon after. "You're right, I might. But I've never made a habit of killing women…especially ones as pretty as you."
The Woad bore her top lip back in a snarl.
"And less of that, too." Gawain warned.
The Woad ignored his threat, but did indeed cease struggling. She frowned, apparently in consideration of his words, before grinning like a contented child.
She spoke. "You will have to let me go if you want to be freed. I cannot do it like this."
"Yes, you can. You will lean around me and do it, understand?"
A wicked grin marked the knight's mouth, and he watched her own disappear…
Only moments later the fair Woad was pressed up against him, her breasts hard against his chest as she attempted to blindly undo the rope. His legs were wrapped hard around her middle, cradling her groin to his, and he couldn't help but stare at her as she frowned. Concentrating on undoing the rope. Her chin brushed against his cheek as she pulled the rope free, and Gawain fought from pressing his lips to her bare neck. He merely watched the muscles move under her skin.
As soon as his hands were free, he wrenched the rope away. The Woad attempted to hurry to her feet, but Gawain grabbed her wrists tightly, before using the tree to propel himself forwards. His legs were still braced around her body, and he pushed her easily onto her back. Tightening his thighs around her and trapping his body against hers, he pinned her to the ground.
A look of sheer panic crossed her expression, and all signs of amusement had disappeared from the Sarmatian's face. He looked down at her, his green eyes boring into her own.
He cleared his throat to speak. "I do believe I owe you."
Gawain knew he should flee while he still had the chance, but what to do with the woman? The time it would take her to warn the others would not be sufficient enough for him to escape, and he had no idea where he was. Where the others were…
"I should have bled you like a pig!" She cursed, although her voice was low and not nearly as confident as before. Gawain watched as she kept her gaze fixed on his chest, not daring to meet his gaze…she was frightened. And better still, her low tone betrayed her words.
Grinning at her pathetic insult, he dipped his lips to her mouth. He kissed her, hard and forceful, and felt her struggle beneath him. Smiling against her mouth, he continued to kiss and suckle at her closed lips. Groaning aloud, he felt his lower stomach tighten, and drew his mouth away before he lost all control. It wouldn't do to push her too far…
The Woad woman ceased her movements, and relaxed her wrists in his hands. Her eyes had been closed when he'd kissed her, and she opened them somewhat lazily. Gawain smirked, touching his nose to hers. "Do you have a name, my blue protector?"
"Madwen." The Woad answered, her voice a whisper.
Gawain considered leaving her then, leaving her alive, but his body screamed at him to stay. She may have struggled against his kisses, but she was looking at his lips now, her gaze dreamy and her forehead set in a deep frown. Before the knight knew what he was doing, he'd captured her mouth in his once more. He kissed her gently now, stroking his tongue over her lips and teasing them open. Madwen whimpered aloud when the edge of his tongue touched hers, and Gawain began to draw his palms down the insides of her arms.
It was a risk, he knew it, but he wanted to touch her. He wanted to taste every bit of her blue flesh…and she did not attack him. She merely wrapped her arms tightly about his neck, arching her breasts into his chest and coaxing a loud growl from his throat. His hands ran down to her waist slowly, and he circled it in his grip, raising himself from her body to allow his hands the chance to explore. He lifted them to her face instead, cupping her jaw lightly and drawing his lips down over her chin.
"I am your enemy." He breathed, sucking suddenly at the skin on her neck. His thumbs caressed her face softly, and he buried his hands deep in her hair. He tugged her head back, giving himself better access to the tender skin of her shoulders.
She did not speak, did not answer his statement, and instead breathed deeply and hoarsely beneath him. Another whimper escaped her perfect lips, and Gawain groaned in response. He nipped playfully at her collarbone, before licking the area with his tongue.
Madwen had never been with a man before, and she found herself quickly becoming lost in the Sarmatian's touch. He had deceived her, prayed upon her desire to aid one who was suffering... She had seen the others taunting him, and watched as his energy and spirit rotted away like dead flesh. If he was to be killed, then why not do it sooner? Why leave him to suffer? She did not see the good it could accomplish, and so had become the deceiver herself.
And now…She felt the roguish knight run his hands down to the top of her pelt, and he began to peel it away from her body, revealing her flesh bit by bit. His calloused fingertips brushed along her skin, drawing out an intense pleasure that ached to be indulged further. Indeed, she knew nothing of bodily pleasures, but this man was showing her the possibilities. His hot breath on her neck, his moistened lips teasing and sucking at her body…
Gawain pulled the fur down with the greatest of ease, drawing his lips over every area of skin as it was revealed. He stopped undressing her to suckle hard on one of her nipples, grazing its peek with his teeth and using his free hand to roll the other with his fingertips. Arching her back into him, Gawain smirked against her breast, before placing one hand firmly on her thigh. How long had it been since he'd felt a woman aching for him to take her? And a Woad? Murmuring against his skilled touch, whispering sweet denials upon her coltish mouth…
He drew his fingers up the pelt lazily, feeling the heat radiate from her sex but desiring to draw her out as long as possible. Moving his mouth to the other breast, he licked the tip, delighting in the deep moan that growled from the bottom of her stomach. Sucking hard on the nub, he then drew his mouth away, climbing back up her body and moving his hand to the inside of her thigh. He drew his fingertips in a lazy circle, watching as she curled her arms around his neck once more.
Her face was a picture of pure need, and Gawain pressed another kiss to her already swollen lips.
"I don't think we've been properly introduced," he growled against her mouth, watching her lips and fighting back from kissing her again. He wanted to plunder her mouth with his tongue, and bury himself deep inside her sweet body. "I am Gawain…and you must remember that name, my pretty Madwen. I feel that it might be easier to scream out. Easier to say, you see…"
Madwen frowned at his words, attempting to follow his speech but failing. His voice was deep and clouded with arousal, and she yearned to believe that it was she who'd made it so. She did however, understand his name, and she repeated it softly into his mouth.
"Gawain. Gawain…mine enemy."
The Sarmatian cocked an eyebrow, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. "I like it."
Gawain silenced his lover with another kiss, before pressing his fingertips along her maidenhood. She panted suddenly against his lips, and Gawain withdrew to truly watch her…to see each wave of pleasure fall over her expression. Indeed, his own eyes had darkened with the intensity of his touch, and he pressed his fingers inside of her, gently at first. He felt her legs kick out suddenly, and Gawain held his other hand to her thigh, watching as her eyes rolled back into her head. She was breathing hard, panting, as each finger slid in and out of her warmth, coaxing moan upon moan from her virgin body.
He drew his thumb over the outside of her clit, applying enough pressure to force a small scream from the women. He kissed her again in an attempt to quieten her…just let the Woads try and interrupt this, he warned. If they would not satisfy his hunger for food, then they could satisfy his other needs…Madwen was a welcome release.
Smiling against her mouth, he removed his hand to drag the animal pelt from her body. He cupped her bottom, lifting her upwards to remove the material before settling her back onto the ground. She was naked now, and he allowed his hands to wonder again, sliding up the muscular length of her thigh and circling to knead her buttocks in his hands. He kissed down her throat again, holding her groin to his and bucking his hips to hers. He would hear her beg for him before he filled her, he would hear his own name fall from her lips as though it were the most important thing on this earth…
Dragging his mouth down the valley between her breasts, he moved down her body slowly. His tongue traced the small line of her naval, sucking at the skin before resting just above her maidenhood. His strong hands tightened on her buttocks, lifting the brown curls of her sex to his lips. He drew his tongue over her, before sucking gently on one of her lips.
The Woad woman arched her back into his touch, and her fingers bit into the dirt as she fought from screaming out. If her people ever found her out she would be killed, put to death, put to death for experiencing and welcoming such pleasures as these…Let them kill me, she groaned, and let this man continue to torture me thus.
A whimper escaped her mouth, and she moved her hands to his hair. Tangling her fingers in the mass of braids and waves, she bucked her hips to his lips…urging him on, willing him to continue, to touch, to taste her. "Oh gods," she moaned, pressing her head hard into the ground.
The knight heard her words and suckled hard against her maidenhood, tracing his tongue over the heat of her sex in gentle circles and then harder lines. Her moans were music to his ears, and it satisfied him to think that each sound was strummed from his own touch. His groin tightened painfully, and he growled against her body, his fingertips biting lustfully into the woman's buttocks. He would have to take her now, soon, if he was to last to feel her warmth…
Nipping her with his teeth, she felt his beard brush against her. His lips then moved away from her sex, and Madwen was left trembling, her hands still in his hair as he climbed back up her body. The woman tilted her head to the side, her eyelids fluttering open slowly and her blue eyes shadowed and intensified with lust. With a need for him that seemed to disregard all sense. Her lower lip trembled, and she spoke up to him.
"Lie with me, Gawain. I desire to feel your flesh deep inside me."
Gawain laughed low, his voice deep with arousal. His hands gripped one of her own, and he brought it down to rest upon the laces of his breeches. "Then free me again, Madwen. And we shall see the effect you have on your captive…"
The Woad did not acknowledge Gawain's cheeky words, and instead moved her fingers hesitantly over his laces. Her hand brushed the hard and large swell of his manhood, and she withdrew herself a moment, apparently summoning the courage to reveal him. The knight watched her bite her lower lip, and knelt to kiss the frown that marked her forehead.
"I do not bite." He smiled, placing a hand over hers and forcing it to hold his erection. She gasped slightly, and Gawain entwined his fingers in hers, using them to pull blindly at the strings. "But I cannot pleasure you as I would like…if you don't…" The strings pulled open easier then he'd expected, and he smiled as her hand fumbled more confidently now. Her fingers slid into the fabric, pushing it down as she grasped his manhood fully in her hands.
"Oh, Madwen." He murmured, kissing her hungrily. He nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth, a growl lying deep in his throat. "Feel how it grows hard for you?"
Gawain pressed his face into her neck as she began to stroke him slowly. Her hold was clumsy at first, and reluctant too, but eventually she regained skill and drove him easily to the edge. Her fingertips circled his head in small circles, whilst her other hands moved in quick strokes along his length. She heard the knight groan, and felt his hot breath on her ear.
"You tease me, Madwen. Oh for the love of the gods, you tease me." His lips brushed over her lobe, and he sucked on it gently. "My blue woman…"
Madwen smiled darkly, her blue eyes pleased and confessing some form of arrogance. She felt the knight's manhood, throbbing in her hand, and lifted her legs to wrap hard around his waist. Indeed, in the very same fashion that he had done earlier…when he had been threatening to choke her last breath. Her feet locked together under his backside, and she released him suddenly, running her hands up his arms to rest upon his cloth-covered shoulders.
Gawain however, winced. Her fingers had gripped his wound, and he gasped loudly. The Woad women released him, and Gawain held himself steady for a moment, catching his breath as he looked down at her. He saw the fear in her eyes, fear that she had harmed him, and he forced a laugh. Resting his groin down to hers, he teased her entrance with his member.
"Just a scratch, Madwen. A gift from your brothers…"
The knight did not wait for a reply, kissing her suddenly and sliding his shaft into her warmth. Her short gasp of pain was deafened by his kisses, and he bucked harder into her, eager to replace the hurt with pure need. And he was successful. Madwen arched her back into his body, and her legs tightened round his waist. She wanted him. She had him, and Gawain broke the kiss to watch the waves of pleasure assault her senses.
Her eyes were closed, and she gripped the man's neck, careful not to touch the wound. For a moment, she'd felt despair at having hurt him. For having hurt someone who was risking his life to give her such hedonistic pleasures…but now, now that the man was moving inside her, sheaving himself in her small body, she trembled from the intensity of it. He braced his arms above her head, pulling himself harder and faster into her.
Gawain buried his head in her shoulder, feeling the light pinch of her fingers on his neck. He moaned something into her skin as he slammed his pelvis to hers again, his hips grinding hers at an angry pace. He heard her whimper his name, and her head tilted back. His breaths caught in his throat when he saw the passion on her face, feeling himself approach his own climax. He breathed in hoarsely, dragging one hand down to her buttocks to thrust harder into her.
As if from nowhere, the knight groaned aloud, bucking hard into her body as he felt himself go over the edge. He repeated her name through raspy breaths, tilting his head to her shoulder again and catching it rough between his teeth. His groaning was loud, and he muffled them against her skin, before collapsing suddenly upon her. He felt her small body spasm beneath him, heard her own meek cry.
"I shall have to tell the men…" He panted, struggling to form his words. "…That making love to your women, is far better then killing them…"
Madwen's eyes opened suddenly at his last comment, and she pushed the man roughly from her. How dare he? Who in the gods did he think he was? He had strayed onto their territory, challenged both the gods will and her people, and now…now…now she had allowed him to touch her. She watched in anger as the knight rose lazily to his feet, beginning to knot his breeches up tightly. Snorting, she clambered to her hands and knees, snatching the animal pelt from the ground and holding it suddenly against her naked body.
"You disgust me!" She spat, her legs still trembling from his touch.
She watched the man look up from his clothing, and flash a wolfish grin. Gawain allowed his gaze to sweep down the length of her, taking in the rather amusing attempt to cover herself up. Ah, she was a woman…there was no sense in any of them, Sarmatian or Woad.
"No use covering yourself up, love." He laughed, striding back over to her. "Seen it already…"
Gawain saw the indignation which crossed her expression, and grabbed her hard against him before she could retort. He pressed his mouth hungrily to hers, feeling her instantly stiffen against him and he laughed devilishly into her lips. Feeling for the animal pelt, he tore it away quickly.
It was only then that he released her, winking playfully as she went to grab the material back. The knight snatched it away, holding it to his chest as he backed away from the naked Woad. Time to leave…
"I'll be keeping this…just incase you decide to warn the others of my escape…"
