Chapter 1
The room was dark, except for the silvery moonlight that entered through the small window in its corner. The woman lay in bed, feigning slumber, but in reality as awake as it was possible to be; every nerve taut with delicious anticipation.
He was coming.
The very thought excited her, although she didn't know why. She didn't know what it was she wanted, although vague whispers at the back of her mind told her that it would be wonderful, exquisite… that the sensations would overwhelm her in a maelstrom she had never experienced before.
Was it this way for all virgins? She did not know. All she knew was that he was coming, and she was desperate for this to happen; desperate for the experience only he could give her.
She was so lost in these thoughts that she nearly gasped in excitement as she heard the door open, but somehow, she managed to remain outwardly calm; her only movement the soft rising and falling of her chest, as she breathed.
She heard his footsteps now, as he crossed the room, slowly easing himself down to sit next to her on the narrow bed. He wore gloves, and she felt them tracing her bare skin ever so lightly, as she remained in her deceptive slumber.
His touch was gone, but only for a few moments, during which time she was almost certain that she heard the soft thud of his helmet being placed on the floor.
His fingers brushed her again, and this time, the gloves were gone. She felt the power in his hands, and knew the strength they were capable of. Slowly, they wound themselves around her neck, caressing her flesh gently, as if he were aware of the enormous trust she placed in him, offering herself to him in this way. Her pulse fluttered in the hollow of her throat, as he held her in his power.
With excruciating slowness, she felt his breath approaching her cheek, growing stronger and warmer as he lowered his face to hers. Just as she felt that he must surely kiss her, his hand caressed her cheek, pushing her hair back from her face.
At long last, she was able to open her eyes, murmuring her soft surprise that he was there, her body tingling with anticipation.
She gazed upon his moonlit face: one that had been familiar to her for nearly as long as she could remember. The tiniest part of her protested her actions. She was not supposed to desire this man. He was supposed to be unattainable; someone whom she would never consider in this manner.
And yet, here he was, and here she lay. She raised her head, ever so slightly, pressing her lips to his, as he eagerly answered her unspoken request.
That tiny part of her was silenced. She was her own self to give, and she could choose whichever man she desired.
Even if that man was the Condor…
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She woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air.
She had had that dream again. How many nights had it been now, that these dreams had disturbed her sleep? How long had it been since she had had an uninterrupted night's sleep?
Too long.
She sat up, shaking her head jerkily, her hair cascading down her shoulders, left bare by the edge of her nightgown.
She pressed a pale, slim hand to her forehead. Why couldn't she rid herself of these dreams? She was afraid that she knew the answer.
She wanted him.
Her sexual experience was non-existent, yet she heard the men she lived with: heard their whispered discussions, sensed their curious eyes upon her, knew of their rendezvous with various women.
She knew just enough to fuel these desires inside of her. To know what she wanted, but… with him?
The thought of it made her stomach curl into knots. The mere idea filled her with dread… and excitement.
It could never actually happen…
Could it?
Slowly, she pushed her nightgown from her shoulders, lying down again on her sweat-soaked bed, her slim fingers tracing their way across her burning flesh. She tried to imagine her dream again; that he was touching her, that he was the one feeling her skin.
It wasn't the same, but it was still exciting.
The image of his face filled her mind, and soon, she was no longer aware of her own movements, only the physical sensations awakening in her, as her body was caressed and stroked.
She envisioned his strong hands, his powerful body covering her own, seeking to give her pleasure, even as he found his own. She was sure that she could pleasure him, even with her inexperience. She wasn't unattractive; she knew that much. And he could teach her everything else she needed to know.
Maybe… just maybe… this dream of hers could become a reality.
When this thought entered her mind, her body exploded with longing, as her caressing fingers brought her physical being to a state she hadn't known she was capable of. She panted with her exertions, reveling in the waves of sensation that washed over her.
Her breath slowed, as a plan began to form in her mind.
The Condor would be hers.
Whether he wanted to be, or not.