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He took her to a tent, and closed the flaps to keep out the cold. She didn't know what he was going to do to her, but figured it would be something akin to rape.
"Girl, drop your clothes."
"My name isn't girl. It's Kiran, and you'd do well to remember it." Kiran snapped back and saw that he was smiling. His grey eyes danced in the lantern light of the tent.
"Kiran." He tested, and pulled off his shirt. "Do you want to lay with me?"
She admitted to herself that she did want him, the warmth that pooled between her legs was proof enough of that.
"No," she lied, and he stepped closer to her.
"I do believe you're lying, little girl."
"Kiran, and so what if I am? Mayhaps I do not wish to lose my maidenhead to you." She snapped again, and he was close enough to touch. To kiss if he but lowered his head to hers.
He gently, slowly reached out and touched her arm, Kiran felt a nervousness flutter in her chest.
Her breathing stopped when he lowered his head closer to hers. Kiran's eyes never left his, as she glared defiantly at him, daring him.
He chuckled and dipped; pressing his lips to hers in a quick kiss before pulling away.
The touch of lips started a wildfire in her body, and she wanted him to do it again. To make her feel the way Yoric of Makarth had.
"If that be your wish," he said. "I shan't force you."
Then, she did something she didn't think she would do. Kiran did what she wanted most in her short life; she kissed and bedded The Foresworn Prince.
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