Caleb and Ben spent the night with the dead and all of the next day hunting Simcoe. As night yawned, darkening their view, they decided to call it a day.
Upon return to camp, Ben seized a bottle of potent whiskey and disappeared in the dark veiled forest to soothe his pain. The men, who had suffered similar losses, followed their major's lead and began drowning in their own sorrows. Caleb squatted outside Cinnamon's tent, sipping, intent to remain sober.
"Caleb?"
"You need to stay inside, ma'am."
She glanced at the drunkards, their heavy-lidded eyes casting lewd glazes in her direction. She was British and these men had suffered because of her countrymen. "I will, but first tell me what has happened."
Careful with his words so not to offend her, Caleb explained how they found Ben's sister-in-law.
"Oh, dear God, poor Ben...Caleb, I am so sorry about your uncle. I am sorry for everything that you and Ben, and all of these men, have suffered and lost. The people back home, they do not witness this. They do not understand. If they did, they would rebel against the brutal tyranny here."
The messenger entered camp with Ben staggering after him.
"Go to bed, Miss. Brewster."
She obeyed.
"What message does Major Hewlett send?" Caleb asked.
"He promises Simcoe will be tried accordingly and in return, he demands the release of his granddaughter."
"Simcoe's men will falsely testify. Simcoe will be back in uniform in a day's time." Ben started to sulk away.
The messenger continued, "he could not believe Simcoe would risk the girl's life."
"Why would Simcoe care about her?" Caleb asked, intrigued.
"Do you not know who she is?"
Caleb nodded. "She is Cinnamon Hewlett, Major's Hewlett's granddaughter."
"You do not know! She is more than that. She is also Captain Simcoe's fiancee!"
With that, Ben froze. He swirled, his alcohol-clouded eyes deadly. "What did you say?"
"Miss. Hewlett is to wed Simcoe in the spring."
Caleb leaped in front of Cinnamon's tent, placing his palms to Ben's chest. "Do not do this! You are allowing vengeance and rage to guide your actions!"
Ben slung his childhood friend to the ground and ducked inside the tent.
Cinnamon was sitting on the covers, knees tucked to her chest when he stormed in. One look in his furor and she knew he knew and she knew exactly what he demanded. She flung herself back, uncoiling her legs at the same time he toppled her. She was not going to resist him. He deserved this. And she wanted him. She wanted him to be her first. It was a way of breaking Simcoe's claim on her innocence.
"Take this off! I want you naked!" he demanded, ripping at her dress.
Knowing to obey quickly, she tugged her dress over her head and tossed it to where he shed his tunic. With one quick motion, he freed himself from his trousers and lowered himself between her legs.
Feeling his mass erect and threatening against her thighs, she whimpered, not sure he could fit inside her. Ben replied by groping a fistful of her breast, twisting painfully at her nipple. "Not a word..I am going to fuck you and I am going to fuck you hard," he slithered in a low tone between gritted teeth.
She could smell the whiskey on his breath, feel it in his touch. He was drunk, angry, desperate. He was going to hurt her, punish her for the actions of her intended. Closing her eyes, she turned her head, toes curling in anticipation for what would come. He seized her throat, gripping with barbarous strength. "Open your eyes! Look upon me while I brand you. You will remember this night each and every time you spread your legs for Simcoe."
Holding her breath in apprehesion, she opened her lids. Their eyes locked. Her gaze fearful, his a mixture of drunk lust and punishing passion. But still she did not resist. She wanted him despite the lack of tenderness.
Still gripping her throat, he lowered his mouth to her lips, his warm breath licking her flesh as he whispered in a sensual tone. "I am going to return you to your fiancé in the morning and when I do you will be drenched, dripping wet with my seed."
Mind whirling with alcohol and a mixture of pain, rage, and revenge as his guide, he drew his hips back, impaling her cervix with one conquering thrust. Her virginal sheath lacerated, she lamented painfully. Outside the tent, Caleb placed his hand to his head, her agonized wail tearing at his heart. Clenching his strong fingers deeper around her throat, Ben hushed her. "Shh…You are going to take every virile inch of me."
Not giving her petite intimate tunnel time to adjust to his size, Ben withdrew to her rim, only to slam back into her again and again, relentlessly, desperately as if clinging to life with each thrust. Instinctively, she threw her palms against his chest, trying to pull him from the realm of dominating ecstasy. With one hand, he pinned her wrists above her head and with the other, he covered her mouth as he viciously thrust himself repeatedly to the hilt.
"Simcoe's whore…. deceitful slut…." The thought of Simcoe touching her enraged him further. "How many times has he touched you? Kiss you?"
"Never! I swear, NEVER!"
Powerless and immobilized, she lay beneath his virile body, suffering passion meant to conquer and prevail. Struggling to breathe, she thrashed her head, moaning, her small body writhing against his muscular one. Her feminine canal fought him, clamping down on him like a vise. The action inflaming him more.
"Do you want him? Do you want to feel his cock inside you?"
"NO!" she yelped, holding her legs wide as he pounded her with breathtaking force.
Ben seized her mouth in a brutal grip, forcing her gaze to his eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"
Shaking her head, whining, whimpering, pleading. "No."
He fell upon her mouth like prey, mauling into her, muttering incoherent delights, some sensual, some vulgar. He fucked her deep and hard to a constant, unrelenting pace until his body rippled with climax. Three deep-rooted thrusts later, he extravasated, filling her womb with his creamy nectar birthed from rage.
His explosion surged against her wounded intimate walls, waxing and hot. She whimpered beneath his chest dripping of sweat as he slowly, sensually pumped every searing drop of himself into her.
Finally, he withdrew and dropped to her side, his breathing harsh and steady.
After a few minutes, his breathing tranquilized. He reclined with his eyes closed, his mind for the first time in months lulled, until a faint whimper broke the spell. He glanced over at Cinnamon's wrecked body. She had curled into a fetal position, clutching her abdomen. A mixture of semen and blood oozing down her thighs. Helpless Prudence flickered in his memory. FUCK, his mind whirled, he was no better than Simcoe.
Collecting her into his arms, he cooed to her as one would trying to comfort an infant. "Cinnamon…" he muttered her name, wiping strands of bedraggled hair behind her ears with a heavy heart. "I am sorry…" He kissed her forehead.
"Do not be sorry, Ben." She whispered, her voice strong and durable. This was revenge against her family and Simcoe. Ben had branded her and that was something her family could not rip from her.
"Why did you never tell me?" his voiced a slur.
"Because I was ashamed, embarrassed of him."
She allowed him to hold her, making the mistake of wrapping her arms around his back. Her breasts arched forward, snuggling his sinewy chest. Within minutes, she felt him harden.
"You are beautiful...intoxicating." He mesmerized his lips against her throat.
She could smell the alcohol seeping through the pores of his body. She knew he was intensely drunk and completely out of his mind. She knew the atrocities men could commit while indulging. She had witnessed her father many times as a child scoop her mother up and carry her off to drunk fuck all night.
Lust overcoming the spinning of his head, Ben sunk, capturing her mouth with his own, kissing her with desperation. She opened her mouth allowing him to tongue fuck her. He thrust his tongue in and out of mouth, rising and flicking the tip of his tongue to hers.
Feeling her nipples grow erect, he trailed down her neck and to her breasts, licking, kissing, sucking, spending amble time on each breast, forcing her to moan with pleasure. "Spread your legs for me, lamb."
Bewitched, she obeyed. He slipped his finger to her clit, manipulating her vigorously, generating her to sob with bliss.
"Ben!" she purred lustfully, her entire body tensing as she ruptured.
Cock enraged and throbbing from watching her climax, he jacked her legs apart and lowered himself between them. "Can you take me again?"
"Yes...I think so..." she murmured between sips of his tongue. She hurt like hell, but there was no way she could deny him.
"Tell me you want me."
Honesty brewing in the pit of stomach, "I want you, Ben Tallmadge. I want you more than anything."
This time he penetrated her tenderly, her tunnel still moist with his seed, fucking her with only half his length, erotically leisurely and steady.
The sound of sex evident, Caleb clenched his fists, cursing Ben mentally. He was going to wound that girl. Cinnamon was too petite to endure much more of Ben's lecherous wrath. He paced back and forth, debating on whether or not to bust in and drag him off of her. Some time before dawn their intimate melody lulled, but Caleb had long drifted deep into slumber.