Marcus
...My Forgotten Love ...
Chapter two
The castle was empty.
He had checked every room and corridor, every stairwell and outhouse.
He knew this was nothing new for his father to be missing, but her absence sent a shudder of fear through him.
He ran out into the rain and called her name, desperately hoping no ill had befallen her.
He raced towards the stable, but no sign. His heart was beating frantically, and the storm brewing above his head seemed to be as explosive as his growing concern and panic.
What if she was in danger or kidnapped he had thought deliriously.
His frantic searching of the sheds and stables brought no sign of her. And the pure fear he felt made him realise the extent of his attraction.
She was not just a object of lust as others had been before her. He would not be able to sate himself in her arms and the attraction would dissipate.
This was a more permanent emotion. Love.
As he paced rapidly back to the castle he finally saw her.
Sitting on a seat on the western corner of the extensive gardens.
That area was surrounded by blossom trees so he had been unable to see her at first. Now, however he could make out her silhouette in the lightning flashes.
Was she sick?
He ran towards the blossom trees and fell to his knees before her, to cup her small and delicately boned face in his large hands. He gazed into her eyes and saw tears. He felt each tear drop like a knife to the gut. His heart ached.
"My lady are you unwell?" he had managed to choke out. He had ridden hard for days to get home to see just a glimpse of her, and his voice was unused.
She had fallen into his embrace and wept uncontrollable in his arms. Marcus had been at a loss. No one had ever given him comfort and he had never returned any.
Of course he had had lovers but they had been only after the status they thought such a union would bring and had been cold and unfeeling in their attentions.
This was a situation he was unprepared for, although the feel of her wrapped tightly in his embrace was not such an unwelcome dilemma.
He may not have any experience in offering comfort but for her he was willing to learn. He lifted her more fully into his arms, cradling her face to his chest and carried her towards the warmth of the house.
He had nearly stumbled when he felt her place a kiss to the exposed skin in the collar of his tunic. And had had to stifle a curse when she replaced the kiss with a small lick.
This wasn't real, he knew she was upset and that must have caused the attention she was giving him.
But it didn't matter why, he was near euphoric with the situation.
He carried her to the great hall and sat her upon the large banquet table in front of the large fireplace. He once again knelt to cup her face. Her tears had finally dried, but she was so cold he could visibly see her shivering.
He wanted to wrap his own clock around her but it was drenched by his ride here and the search for her.
Instead he removed the top layers of her wet garments and rubbed her arms to try to heat her.
After several minutes, one of her small hands had reached up to cup his check and her thumb had rubbed over his lips sensuously.
He couldn't help himself holding her cold hand to his lips to kiss her open palm. The smile he received due to his reaction caused his heart to skip a beat.
She shone.
There was no other way to describe how she looked. Her hair was beginning to dry so was curling wildly, creating a silken border for two beautiful eyes that gazed at his with such warmth and tenderness he was momentarily stunned beyond words.
As if watching his actions from afar he seemed to have had no control over his body. He leaned in and had his first taste of her lips. Her kiss was innocently gentle at first, he licked and gently nipped her rose lips till they allowed him access.
Her mouth was better than even his most fevered fantasies. Hot and as soft as velvet. She had clenched the muscles in his shoulders as he pulled her more tightly into his embrace.
He knew on a subconscious level he should pull away but he couldn't.
He knew now that even if he had realised the extent of his love for her at that moment and the pain of her loss, he still would have kissed her.
The love she gave him and the warmth and compassion was worth the pain he felt, he still wished however it was he who was dealt the brunt of the punishment for their union but he would never change his decision. He could never have pulled away from the burning passions she ignited within him.
He treaded his fingers into her curling locks as he held her through their kiss.
He didn't want to scare her but he needed to taste and feel her. He hesitantly allowed his tongue to lap gently upon hers. Her gasp of surprise was caught within their kiss.
His head spun with the sensations and he repeated the tentative exploration. When she returned the kiss with a hesitant lick of her own he groaned. He moved his hand slowly from her hair down the side of her neck till he rested his heated palm just above her breast.
He allowed her to feel the heat of his hand before he slowly descended till he could graze his thumb back and forth across her nipple. Her moan had her back arching and pressing her body more firmly against his.
He allowed his passions to overcome him and threw caution to the wind. He needed her with a ferocity that astounded him, he had wanted her since the moment he had met her and the feel of her returning his attentions with equal passion would be both their undoing.
He removed the last of her drenched garments and didn't know if she shivered with the cold or her passions. He removed his own tunic and trews and stood to draw her into his embrace.
She initiated their kissing once more as he carried her slight body to the fireplace.
He wanted to make love to her now, in the light and heat of the fire light.
The storm outside no longer seemed to be charged by the fear of earlier, but from the passion and promise of their union. He lay her upon the floor and took a moment to memorise her image.
She was panting from their kiss, and made no attempt to cover herself from his heated gaze. Her still damp hair had fallen around her perfect face and was like a dark halo next to the gray stone floor.
Her body was slightly damp also from her drenched clothes, but this only caused the lines, curves and hollows of her body to be highlighted more by the flickering fire light.
He trailed his index finger from her neck, down between the valley of her breasts to her slim waist. He leaned down and kissed along her stomach, as a wave of possessive tendencies rode him.
He wanted his child to grow here, he thought deliriously as he rubbed his cheek against her stomach.
In that moment he remembered their situation.
If his father changed his mind about their marital situation…
Marcus froze. He couldn't live with such a situation. If he made her his this night, he wanted no other to know her as intimately as he would, he didn't want her to conceive another's child.
The thought of her and his father caused him to lift his face from her belly and leave her on the floor as he rushed from the room.
He was consumed with unspent lust, rage and pain.
He wanted her, needed her but it could never be.
He had punched the wall repeatedly as he headed for his chambers.
How could he sleep with his fathers wife?
He hated his father and had a feeling the feeling was mutual, but it was unmoral. He couldn't. But God how he wanted to!
Just remembering her kiss made him curse in agony and again strike the wall.
His father had ruined everything. His childhood, his relationship with his beloved twin. Separating him and William was like removing an arm, a constant ache that reminding him his twin was in a tower on their other estate being "controlled".
This was no different. He needed her, and his father was the obstacle.
He wished in that moment he had the power to kill his father. He had the will to do it. Too many times Marcus had cowered in corners with his twin during their youth, too many times he had been called vile names because he was born different.
She had been his only friend, his only companion beside William and both where being denied him.
He fell to his knees as emotions so violent he shock from them coursed through his veins.
He wept as his pain and torment came back afresh. He couldn't stay like this. He wanted tenderness, he wanted love. But he wanted it for solely him, he would not share.
Marcus knelt with his head in his hands.
Marcus wished he could marry her but a agreement between his father and another noblemen had made Marcus' betrothed Maryann Van Keen.
He had never met her but he had heard she was a great beauty.
He had been happy to agree to the insanity at the time, as he was only 16 then. But now he wished he had thought it through.
Not that saying anything against the union would have helped, his father wanted the allegiance so naturally his father would get it, regardless of Marcus' feelings.
Marcus lay in his casket thinking back to that moment. He wished he had just taken her far away and married her.
Marcus lay as he recalled their first union...