A/N: Sorry for not updating soon
I don't own CCS but neither do you, hah
This is my version of Anne Stuart's book "Prince of Swords"
Enjoy
"Prince of Swords"
Chapter 9
Miss Sakura Kinomoto, late of Kinomoto Park was looking quite deliciously indignant. Syaoran was a man who lounged and reclined rather than stormed into a situation, so he simply sat on the damask chaise opposite her, stretched out his long legs, and bestowed a faint smile on her.
She looked back at him stonily, clutching the glass of wine in one hand. He was rather taken with her hands. He'd had plenty of time to observe them as she shuffled the cards, and he'd found himself weaving the most absurdly erotic fantasies about them. Her fingers were long, graceful, and the very lack of even the plainest of silver rings fed his fantasies. She didn't have soft white hands with no other use than adornment. She had hands that when properly encouraged could drive a man to sweet oblivion.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she demanded in an irritable voice.
"Like what?" he murmured lazily.
"Like a cat who's discovered a juicy mouse."
It took all his concentration not to show how startled he was. Clearly she had no idea what she'd said - his connection with a certain notorious feline seemed to have eluded her fortune-telling gifts. Or at least eluded the more conscious part of them. He had the suspicion that even though she hadn't realized it, it wouldn't be long before she knew quite well who and what he was.
"You are rather mouselike in that dull gray dress," he agreed lazily. "But quite quivering and delicious, for all that."
She started to rise, took one look at his face, and clearly thought better of it. A wise decision on her part. If she'd surged to her feet, he would have been required to rise also, and it would have put him in very close proximity to her. He would have had no choice but to touch her, and if he were to touch her, he had every intention of kissing her quite thoroughly. And
not stopping there.
"How did you find out my name?" she demanded.
"Quite easily. I simply asked the right person," he murmured.
"And why should you care?"
"Dear girl, you fascinate me," he said frankly. "I've never known a cross between a proper young English/Japanese girl and a Gypsy, Your talents are quite remarkable. Usually I find young virgins to be deadly dull, but in your case 'I find myself absolutely drawn to you."
"Draw back," she snapped, her color high. "I assure you my talents are paltry at best, and mostly consist of lies and lucky guesses. I'm scarcely the sort of creature to hold your interest. I'm no longer, of your class."
"I didn't say I was interested in marrying' you, child," he said.
She managed not to flush at the deliberate taunt.
"Then what do you want from me? And don't call me child! I'm no longer in the schoolroom, and you can't be that much older than I am."
"In years I'd surmise about a decade, or probably even less, but in more important matters I'm old in the ways of sin and the world, and you're still an infant. And I should think it would be quite clear what I want from you."
She sighed quite loudly, and began to untie the silk strings of her reticule.
"I can't promise that the cards will tell me much. I'm tired, and I don't do well with -"He leaned forward and placed his hand over hers, stopping her as she fumbled for her cards. His own hands were long, graceful, and strong, and they covered hers as they rested on her lap. Even beneath all those layers of clothing he could sense her skin, her warmth, and he knew his touch shocked her.
"I don't want you to tell me my fortune, Sakura," he'said softly, "and I have no interest in making use of your dubious talents."
She tried to pull her hands from under his, but he simply pressed harder, the strength and the heat of his hand against her legs.
"Then what do you want?" she demanded;
She really didn't know. Itastonished and delighted him.
How a woman with her subtle, delicious charms could be so oblivious was a wonder.
"I want your body," he purred.
She blinked those magnificent eyes at him. "What for?"
He was becoming less charmed and more irritated.
"I want to seduce you, my pet," he said in a cooler voice that she couldn't fail to understand.
Her reaction was gratifying. She didn't turn pale, or flush, or giggle like a simpleton. She simply stared at him.
"Oh," she said flatly. "You're a rake."
"I'm not denying it. What made you come to that particular conclusion?"
"Rakes like to seduce every female they come across, do they not? My mother warned me that men like you existed, but our fortunes changed before I ever actually met one."
"Curse all mothers," he muttered. "And I don't seduce every female I come across. Only the ones who interest me."
She looked at him with a calculating eye, clearly unmoved.
"Do you live in London, Mr. . . . ? I'm afraid I don't know your name - we've never been properly introduced. You can't seduce me if we haven't been introduced."
"That's what you think," he said half to himself. "Not actually I'm not technically a mister. I'm the sixth Earl of Xian Lang. You may call me Lord Xian Lang, but I'd prefer you call me Syaoran."
"A title," she said approvingly. "Even better. Does that title come with a convenient fortune?"
"I said I wanted to seduce you, not buy you," he drawled.
"Cooperation is so much more enjoyable than commerce."
"I wasn't thinking of me," she said sharply.
"Oh, you've become an abbess?" he inquired politely.
The color flared in her pale cheeks then, most gratifyingly.
The longer he resisted touching her, the more powerful the need became. Her ridiculous arguments should have made him lose interest. Instead, they merely increased his determination... "Matchmaker," she said in a severe voice. "You aren't married, are you?"
"Fortunately, no."
She positively beamed at him. "Excellent. And you're a very handsome man. I'm certain you'd want a beautiful wife as well- one who could give you equally lovely children - a good, talented, docile girl who -"
"What in God's name are you talking about?"
"My sister."
"You want me to seduce your sister?" he echoed, momentarily diverted.
"Of course not. I want you to marry her."
"Why in God's name would I want to do that?"
"All men need heirs. And I told you, my sister is without question the most beautiful girl in London. Men only have to see her to fall in love with her."
He surveyed her calmly.
"Then why hasn't someone married her already?"
"Because I don't let anyone see her. I'm saving her. Our unfortunate reversal of fortune has kept us in retirement, but as soon as I . . . as we regain our proper circumstances, she'll make her bow in society, and I have no doubt whatsoever that a splendid marriage will ensue."
"You are an abbess," he said dryly. "I'm sorry, child, but I have no intention of marrying, now or in the future. I prefer my pleasures unshackled. Besides, I have no interest in your sister, no matter how lovely and docile and talented she is. Those aren't the qualities that interest me."
"They're not?" she said, clearly surprised.
"I'm far more interested in women who are adventuresome, imaginative, and not in the ordinary way. I prefer women with strange eyes to those of classic perfection. In fact, dear girl, I want to bed you, not marry your sister."
She blinked at his plain speaking, but still managed to keep her composure. "You have very uncommon tastes, my lord."
"Yes," he said. "I suppose I do."
She really did have the most extraordinary eyes. They were emerald green, translucent, witch's eyes, and they stared at him with sudden dismay, as if she finally realized the danger she was in.
She scrambled out of her chair, clutching her reticule, backing away from him and knocking the chair over as she went.
He didn't move from his spot on the chaise, merely reclined there, watching her. The poor innocent thought she could escape - she didn't know how quickly he could move.
"This has been most entertaining, my lord," she said, and he could hear the breathless anxiety in her voice.
"But I'm afraid I need to be getting home."
"To that incomparable sister of yours? This time you'd best take a sedan chair. Tomoeda is a fair distance from Mayfair."
"You know where I live?" she demanded, aghast.
"It's a very drab little house."
"It's only temporary." He'd lulled her into a false security. If she had any sense at all, she'd escape quickly, but she was lingering, still several feet from the door, and he had more than enough time to reach her.
"You don't want to go back there tonight, do you? Wouldn't you rather eat roast quail, and drink fine claret? Wouldn't you rather spend the night in my bed?"
"Absolutely not," she said sternly. "And I don't believe you have the faintest interest in taking me there."
She made the mistake of turning her back as she crossed to the doorway. By the time she put her hand on the knob, he was behind her, looming over her, moving with total silence as his hand covered hers.
He turned her around swiftly, and she uttered a little shriek, more of surprise than real fear, and she looked up at him with disapproving eyes.
"You think not, Sakura? You underestimate your charms."
He used his body to press her up against the door, exerting just enough strength to pin her there without hurting her. He cupped her face with his hands, and her skin was smooth and soft beneath his fingers. Her mouth trembled as she stared up at him in utter fierceness, and her eyes dared him.
He never could resist a dare. He set his mouth against hers, tasting her lips, the wine that she'd drunk, the fear she tried so hard to hide. She made no effort to fight him or ,resist him, she simply held very,still, like a trapped animal, like a tiny, cowering mousetrapped by a big black cat.
The notion amused him, and he tipped her head back, moving his lips across hers lightly, dampening them. She seemed to be having trouble breathing, and he decided to make things even more difficult. He put just the right amount of pressure on her jaw, and she opened her mouth to him.
The sound she made when he used his tongue was soft, distressed, and longing. For a moment she pushed against him, but when she realized that nothing short of an earthquake, could dislodge him, she started to drop her arms in defeat.
He didn't want her defeat. He caught her arms and pulled them around his neck, and she shuddered. But her body pressed up against him, and he could feel the sweet swell of her breasts against his chest, and the stirring of a need that mirrored his own.
She wouldn't know much about that kind of need, and she would doubtless deny it if she could. He wanted to take her far enough along that she couldn't pretend, and he moved one hand between their bodies, up her plain, stiffened bodice to the curve of her breast, claiming jt with his long fingers.
"Syaoran!"
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Cliffy!
So what do think of it?
What are going to do about it?
I'm outrageous. Yeah I know.
Ok now, I would really like to appreciate and give my thanks for those who reviewed!
Alpha2Omega: ThAnK YoU vErY MuCh fOr YoUr rEvIeW, i HoPe yOu LiKeD ThIs ChApPy!
Black Wolf Chic 2: Hi! Of CoUrSe I'll mEnTioN yOu, YoU rEviEwed, and BeSidEs i CoNsIdeR yoU mY
FriEnd. friends? GrAcIaS! for ReViEwiNg
pure-lillyhi! I kNeW u dIDn'T aBaNdaNed mE. AriGatOu! for u reVieW (by the way, what's the 'story alert'?)
A/N: i don't know about you guys, but i think i'm getting confuse here about the ages
so i'll write them down here, for anyone interested
Sakura: 19
Syaoran: 23
Tomoyo: 21
Eriol: 25
what do you think? or should i change them? (i noticed that girls married very young, and couldbe wondering why they aren't married)
another thing i want to make clear is that
Sakura's biological mother is Nadeshiko, same story of ccs, died when sakura was very young. But instead of Sonomi being her cousin, she's her older sister. And Tomoyo is Sonomi's biological daughter.
i won't go into details, for now. but Sonomi is sakura's guardian, like a mother who took care of her, with the help of a their nurse Megumi. anyway that's why sakura refers to her as her mom,ok? got it, if not, sorry can't tell you much.
but you'll find out, along the story,
Right now i'm in finals, but i'll do my best in updating
