Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it.
I do not own Merlin or the characters and I honestly do not own Wicked In Your Arms.
Arthur watched Gwen hurry up the stairs in a flurry of skirts and knew she was fleeing him. His brows furrowed as he watched her depart...
Something had changed...
She had stared at him with almost fear in her eyes.
Before there had always been mockery, even scorn when she gazed at him...at least when he wasn't kissing her and her eyes weren't clouded with desire.
But he'd seen none of those things just now.
He'd read only finely-honed panic in the liquid dark of her eyes...
As if she had just come face-to-face with a deadly predator that might unleash itself on her at any moment.
And she had studied him as though he was something dangerous to her... A deadly predator.
And perhaps he was.
But he knew only one thing for certain... he would not be leaving London until they settled this thing between them... Until he had her in his bed.
Only then, he rationalized, would he be able to exorcise her from where she had taken up residence inside him...in his very blood.
Only then could he follow through and do what he had come here to do.
"Ah, cousin. There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"
Arthur faced Nigel, pasting a mild smile on his face that reflected none of his inner turmoil.
"Have you?"
"Seems the party is coming to an end. The duchess is quite eager to get back to town and start spreading the word of Lady Phillipa's sudden departure."
Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Of course, because that would be utmost important," he said.
Nigel chuckled at his sarcasm, then sobered with the sudden realization that his royal cousin had just lost his primary target for a bride.
"Oh dear. This does put us back to the beginning of our bride hunt, does it not?" he asked more than said.
Of course, Arthur had realized this instantly... from the moment the earl had questioned him early this morning.
And for some reason the realization did not trouble him.
Not as it should have.
Regrettably, he'd wasted a week pursuing the earl's daughter. Which was another reason he needed to satisfy this itch with Miss Davies.
Maybe then he could move on... Forget her and remember what it was he had come to London to do.
"Appears everyone is departing tomorrow!" Nigel declared.
Arthur snapped to attention...
His cousin's words sent a bolt of panic through him.
"That soon?" he asked, his voice sharper than he intended.
Tomorrow they would all depart...
Tomorrow he would not have Gwen beneath the same roof as him and in such ready access anymore.
"Art?" Nigel's reddish eyebrows furrowed. "Something amiss?"
"No." Arthur shook his head. "It's just... It's our last night in this fine country air. And I shall miss it when we return to town," he lied. However, he slapped the smaller man on the back as resolve swelled through him... "Let's make our last evening count!"
'Every moment of it!'
Most of the dowager's houseguests had retired early, right after dinner. But with a long day of travel ahead of them...several long days, to be precise...they all needed their rest.
However, Gwen was still up. She was going through one of her final nightly rituals before she headed to bed...
Brushing her long curly locks.
She dragged the brush through her hair until her scalp stung from each crackling pull. And after a few minutes, she decided she'd had enough.
Sliding beneath the counterpane, she pulled the heavy covers up to her chin, settling herself deep in the center of the four-poster bed.
With a sigh, she turned and punched the pillow beneath her head...
She didn't want to leave the dowager's estate... And she knew it had nothing to do with her aversion to town life.
It had everything to do with him.
At that, her stomach knotted with the realization that she would never be in such close proximity with the prince again.
No more sparring words...
No more heated glances...
And no more stolen kisses.
She sucked in a breath and told herself this was a good thing. Especially considering the relatively new realization that she liked him.
Indeed, she was still grappling with that fact.
But she now knew he was more than a handsome face.
His aloof veneer was just that...a shield... And behind it breathed a just and magnanimous man with a wicked sense of humour and even more wicked kisses.
Gwen stared blindly into the dark, straight and rigid as a slat of wood, her fingers laced tightly over her stomach as her mind mulled through all this.
She hadn't seen Arthur all day.
He'd been absent during dinner... a fact that had both relieved and disappointed her.
Lowering her hand, she brushed the swell of her stomach, noting that the linen of her nightgown felt soft against her palm.
Her thoughts went to her and Arthur together in his bedchamber and in the stables... And the sinful way their mouths had devoured each other.
What would it be like to succumb?
To lie with him?
Misery filled her to consider she would never see him again after tomorrow. She would go about hunting for a husband and he would go about searching for his bride.
Suddenly, an ache of longing filled her chest that she could not suppress... that she could not deny.
'I'll miss him.'
The thought entered her head before she could block it out and then a question swiftly followed that was equally inappropriate...
'Why could he not choose to marry me?'
A warmth suffused her at the very idea... at the nights they would have... and the leisure they could take to devote to each other.
Frowning, she quickly tried to suppress the warmth with a cold dose of reality...
Arthur was a prince. And nothing would change that.
Typically, she was no one... no one who should even cross paths with him. And she would not permit herself to fall in love with him.
She would not lose such power over herself.
The curtains shifted at her balcony, fluttering with a whisper in the wind. And the barest creak sounded as the door swung inward.
She bolted straight up in bed with a gasp, her eyes searching the gloom, widening as a large shape materialized...
Her heart began to hammer wildly. But she knew instantly...
He had come.
Her prince had come.
That he had been so bold as to vault several balconies to reach her room, almost made her giddy.
"Arthur?"
Gwen's voice fell in a whispery hush on the air as her eyes strained for a better glimpse of his face.
Silence...
She shoved back the covers and swung her feet over the side of the bed. And her bare feet dropped down silently.
Then she moved towards the robe she'd draped over her footboard, her gaze straining through the gloom, searching for his shape.
Suddenly, a hard hand shot out and gripped her wrist...
"Leave it off. It's one less item we'll have to remove."
A secret thrill shivered over her skin at his decadent words. There was no mistaking his meaning or what he'd come here to do.
However, she opened her mouth to deliver a ringing set-down...to say what she should say...but the words never made it past her lips...
Because his mouth crushed hers and her protest died in her throat.
If Gwen was being honest with herself, she was done running. She was in full surrender mode.
She tangled her hands in Arthur's hair, pulling his head closer, deepening their kiss and parrying her tongue with his, even as he backed her up until she collided with the bed.
Then he broke the kiss...
Her chest rose and fell with each savage breath that shuddered free of her lungs. And his eyes glittered at her in the dark, twin spots of gleaming light.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
It was a senseless question, she knew that, even as he gathered her nightgown against her hips.
"I think it's clear what I'm doing."
With that, in a single, swift move, he pulled the nightgown over her head and tossed it to the side.
Night air rushed over her and she shivered.
"Finishing what we've begun," he breathed against her temple, stirring the fine hairs there. And her heart leapt in her too-tight chest.
She managed a strangled sound... a gurgled affirmation. Because, with every fiber of her being she wanted this.
She needed this.
It would be all she had of him, of passion.
But she would seize it and not regret a single moment.
Arthur's large hand cupped Gwen's bottom and lifted her high against him, snuggling her against his prodding erection.
And that same hand rounded the curve of her behind, sliding lower, fingers teasing, probing her entrance and ripping a gasp from her throat at the intimate touch.
Then she was falling...
And not a second later, his body came down over hers, surrounding her and pinning her to the bed.
Instinctively, her legs parted wide, allowing him to settle deeper against her. And there was no fear. Only desire.
Immediately, the two mouths fused together, a hot, wet melding of lips and tongues, of nips and long, deep drinks from each other's mouths.
Then the dam broke and at last Gwen let herself go...
She reveled in Arthur's mouth, his tasting tongue and his hands on her body. Because even without marriage and without his love, she could have him... have this.
At that, an incredible sense of freedom and power seized her, and her hands flew to his trousers. And in a matter of seconds, with his help, his pants were gone.
Following her instincts and the deep pull of desire in her pounding blood, she closed her hand around his hard length.
His resulting groan emboldened her. And she sighed at the silken feel of him.
A shudder ran through him then and vibrated within her as she stroked him, slowly and hesitantly at first, then in long, firm strokes that made him breathe harder.
Of course, her own breathing increased and grew into ragged pants as well.
She rubbed her thumb over the tip of him, delighted at his low groan and at the bead of moisture that coated the head of him, which rose up to kiss her thumb.
"What are you doing to me?" he asked.
Then he tangled a hand in her hair and dragged her mouth to his for a searing kiss.
Meanwhile, Gwen worked her hand over Arthur, feeling, fondling, caressing and exploring that part of him which both fascinated her and fed her hunger.
And after a while, she released him and shoved his chest with the flat of her palms.
He fell back on the bed. And she hovered over him for a moment, wishing she could see the magnificence of his body in the dark chamber.
Alas, memory would have to serve.
Hands fumbling in her excitement, Gwen removed the prince's shirt, glad he'd already discarded the rest of his garments.
Then she traced the ridges of muscles along his stomach, reveling at the feel them.
Still feeling bold, she dipped her head and tasted him, licking her way down his hard chest, tracing the thin line of hair from his navel downwards.
Downwards...
Then she stopped and perched uncertainly over him. And the rasp of his breath filled the air, encouraging her.
"Go ahead. Take me in your mouth."
And so, clasping his solid length in one hand, she placed a kiss at the tip of him.
"Guinevere," he croaked in a voice she had never thought to hear from him. He sounded vulnerable... Lost... And completely at her mercy.
God, it thrilled her... It aroused and prompted her as nothing else ever could.
And slowly, as if he was the most delectable piece of fruit she had ever sampled, she licked him fully...
Arthur's body jerked almost as if in pain.
And the action caused Gwen to pause for a moment. She released him and turned her face towards him...
He was perched on his elbows, his face tilted towards her in the gloom.
"Did I hurt you?" she asked.
In response, he clamped down on her arms with his warm hands and before she could draw a breath she was on her back and he was over her.
The sensation of their naked bodies...all smooth, bare skin sliding sinuously together, left her breathless, the air trapped within her throat.
And even more so at the slide of his chest against her breasts.
She watched his head dip, then felt his mouth dragging hotly down her arching neck.
But when his large hand surrounded her breast, her head flew off the pillow and a strangled cry exploded from her lips.
She was undone and from this point on, utterly ruined for him.
She knew that as well as she knew her name was Guinevere Davies.
As Gwen writhed and panted beneath Arthur, her body afire, her hands clutched the slick flesh of his straining biceps.
Soft pleas spilled from her mouth... For him to make it end... To never stop.
And at the first touch of his mouth to her breast, she bucked beneath him, completely overcome.
She went utterly still, shocked at the sensations rippling through her as he took her nipple deep into his mouth.
Hunger pulled deep in her belly. And she threaded her fingers in his hair, squirming beneath him with building frustration... wanting, needing, craving... desperate for something more.
Finally, his warm hand trailed between them, delving between her legs, sliding expertly between her quivering thighs.
"I've dreamed of this, Guinevere. I've dreamed of you," he murmured against her breast, his thumb stroking and pressing at a secret hidden spot she never knew existed before.
She lurched against him, shuddering in his arms and he moved his face up to hers.
"I can wait no more."
She nodded, speechless and too overcome as spasms racked her body.
And then he was driving into her, so deep, so fully...
Gwen gasped at the intense pressure. It should've hurt...really hurt. And it probably did. Because he was large and pulsing inside her, but he filled that gnawing, clenching ache in such a way that she didn't care.
She felt whole, complete at last.
His mouth slammed over hers as he plunged in and out of her, mating with her body so fiercely, so thoroughly, she doubted she would ever be the same again.
He took what he needed, pounding into her ruthlessly and she didn't care because she wanted it too.
She needed it.
She needed him.
Her hips rose to meet him and she cried out as he drove harder into her, gripping her hips with digging fingers as if she was a lifeline...the only thing that kept him grounded to earth.
Her heart swelled even as she sadly reminded herself that this wasn't love. Only lust.
And so, she eagerly opened up for him and took everything he had to give...for this once in a lifetime occurrence.
Because she was quite sure she could never have this again. And certainly not with another man.
Gwen's body splintered from the inside out as Arthur took her hard, fast and in long deep strokes. And after a while, she felt the pressure in her body mounting...
Her legs grasp his muscular hips tightly and her womanhood began to clench his shaft, as she vibrated with each hard thrust he made.
He too was on the brink of exploding... His thrusts became harder, deeper and faster as he hurtled to the finish.
After a while, he felt her legs loosen and widened and her nails dug deep into the smooth skin of his shoulders then down his back and into his bum.
Finally, he swallowed her ecstatic cries as he drove deep inside her a few times and stilled, his arms quivering, braced on either side of her.
After a few long kisses, Gwen's mouth curved into a sad smile. It was over. But she would always have this.
Long after he left for home...
Long after they each wed someone else...
This memory, this night, would hold her through the years.
But it would be enough. She would make it so.
Because this was more than lust.
This was something else entirely...
Arthur knew it the instant he felt Gwen shudder beneath him. And he knew it when he felt her tremble and arch sinuously under him in the throes of her climax.
Of course, his own climax followed fast and fierce. And he reveled in the sensation of his seed spilling inside her.
But even then, he knew it was insanity. He knew that he should pull free from her body and spill himself upon the linens.
But nothing could tear him from her delectable body, risk or no risk.
And just as he realized this, he accepted the fact that she was not something...or someone he could have just once.
And for the first time in years, he wanted something for himself...
He wanted her.
Alas, someone else I know very well has passed. He died tragically on Sunday night riding his beloved motorcycle.
I will miss you Trevor...Trev as I used to call you and I will miss our chats when you walk your massive dogs.
RIP dear friend.
Stay safe all!