Chapter 35: Who's The Predator, Who's The Prey
Bishop stood in the shadowy corner of the room watching the elf sleep. He had taken extra care not to make any noise as he climbed through her window, for her senses were the keenest of anyone he had ever known. To someone who didn't know her, she would look a tempting, vulnerable target. However, he knew that if he approached the bed she would most likely sense his presence and attack him with the knife he knew was under her pillow. She always put one under her head when she lay down so she would always be ready if danger should approach. Maybe that was why he was so attracted to her: her constant alertness and suspicion. Even now, after months at the Flagon, she still chose to sit where she could see the entire common room and always had her bow strung and ready for use.
That wasn't the only reason, by far, for the attraction. Let's face it, he had always been attracted to women who were dangerous, and she certainly qualified. There was something thrilling about being with a woman who could kill you with a single shot. She could also move so quickly and silently that she could cut your throat before you were even aware of her presence. He had heard about the incident with Qara. Too bad he hadn't been there, for he would have enjoyed seeing that whining brat get what she deserved. She had made it abundantly clear to everyone what her view of the world was, and if the others didn't realize how deadly serious she was, then they were fools.
Knowing she was Duncan's niece, and not knowing what the drunk had told her, it was crazy of him to get involved with her on more than a professional basis. If she ever found out about his horrible secret, how would she react? If she turned hostile there was a good chance she would kill him, so it made more sense to eliminate her before that happened. The thought of having to kill her somewhere down the line bothered him. Bothered him more than he wanted it to. He had finally met a woman who was his equal, or more acurately his better, outside the bedroom and she just had to be Duncan's niece. The irony of that was sharp indeed.
Speaking of which, he had to wonder what it would be like to bed her. Was there fire underneath all that ice? Usually, the hottest bed partners were also hot in everday dealings. She ran cold most of the time. Her anger was cold and calculating, her manner reserved and stand-offish. There had only been a couple of times when she had shown any fire towards others. The rest of the time she held it back, kept it on a tight rein. He knew that was from decades of practice and having a foster father who showed all the emotion of a rock. He had a feeling that her sexual experience was minimal, if she had any at all. That one time in the woods when they had been hunting for clues really didn't give him enough to go on. Would she be able to let herself go? It would be interesting to find out.
The clouds briefly parted to allow moonlight to shine through her window and onto the bed, illuminating her face and upper body. He could see clearly that she slept in the nude and was irresistably drawn to her side. He had never forgotten the sight of her naked curves that day by the lake. He knew how well muscled she was, for all that she was so lithe and agile. He wanted to touch her skin, to see if it felt as soft as it looked. His hand was inches from her face when her eyes flew open and a smile curved her lips. He froze,staring into those emerald green eyes, gleaming like a cat's in the dark.
"Did you enjoy watching me sleep Bishop?" she whispered, the amusement in her voice very clear.
"I always enjoy watching you sleep," he whispered in return. "You look so fragile when you do, it makes for a very tempting sight," he continued, tracing one finger lightly across her throat. "However, I know just how much of a mistake it would be to give in to the temptation."
"Smart of you to realize that," Nimbrethil clenched her hand around the knife under her head. She noticed his eyes flick towards the pillow and knew he got the message for a slight smile curved his lips.
"Do you intend to use that?" he drawled nonchalantly.
"Well, that would depend on your intentions ranger," she murmured. She could smell his scent, he always smelled like he had just come from the woods, and it was making her heart beat faster. That was just one of the things that attracted her to him. She locked her eyes with his and waited to see how he would respond.
He studied her for a moment, noticing that there was no fear in her eyes, just anticipation. Lifting his hand, he ran one finger softly down her cheek and across her lips, noticing how they parted at his touch. He allowed it to travel up to her ear and softly stroke the tip of it, causing a shiver to run through her body. "I think you know what my intentions are elf," he smirked at her. He stood up and began to remove his weapons and place them on the floor behind him. He saw her glance at his boots and couldn't suppress a grin as he removed the daggers from both of them. When he was finished, he looked at her and waited, one eyebrow arched in a questioning glance.
Nimbrethil slowly removed her hand from under the pillow and then placed the knife on the floor directly under the bed. Both knew that even though the other appeared to be disarmed, it would be easy enough for them to reach the weapons. She raked her gaze pointedly up and down his body and saw a feral gleam enter his eyes, which caused a heat to start spreading through her body, and unconsciously she licked her lips.
Bishop slowly began removing his armor, enjoying the way her eyes roamed over his body as each piece was removed. There was an almost predatory gleam in her eyes, like she was sizing up her next kill, and it was bringing him on faster than anything ever had. After he was naked, he moved to the bed and, with one forceful tug, pulled the sheet away to expose her body to his gaze. Hungrily he took in her curves, his eyes raking over the tanned skin and toned limbs. When she stretched catlike on the bed he felt his control snap and he threw himself on her, pinning her with his weight, as his mouth claimed hers in a fierce kiss. His hands roamed her body, pinching and grasping, as she twined her arms around his neck. He trailed hot, hungry kisses down her neck, nipping hard enough to make her sqeal at times, yet not quite hard enough to draw blood. When he heard her plead for more, he parted her legs and thrust roughly into her, never hearing her slight whimper of pleasure-pain at his entry.
Nimbrethil whimpered as he thrust into her, for he was big and it hurt a little. His movements were savage, like those of an animal and at first she was frightened. She struggled against him, but he merely growled and tightened his grip. Then, as he continued to thrust savagely into her, she felt a primal response rising in her, and soon she was moving with him, matching him thrust for thrust. She could feel her head spinning and felt herself beginning to lose control. This was wild, untamed lust and she felt herself quickly building towards climax. She sank her teeth into his shoulder as she came, lost in the sensations running through her body, muffling her cries of release against his skin. A few moments later she heard him grunt and felt the heat of his release inside her. He collapsed on top of her, both of them panting from their exertions.
Bishop had seldom felt such complete satisfaction after taking a woman. He had found the fire under the ice and it left him breathless and wanting more. He had been more rough with her than he intended, but he couldn't help it. She made him wild with lust and he had been waiting for this moment a long time. He lifted his head and gazed down at her, amber eyes meeting green ones, and saw a slight smile curve her lips. He felt an answering grin come to his face at the look of satisfaction on hers, and also felt relief that she wasn't objecting to his rough treatment. Rolling off her, he lay on his back beside her, still breathing heavy.
Nimbrethil turned to face him, resting her head on one hand as she stared into his eyes. There was a softness there that she had never seen before and she wondered at it. Then, as her gaze wandered down to his chest, she felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of numerous burn scars. They were faded, yet they spoke of some tragic event in his past. Unable to resist, she reached out and lightly traced a finger over them and felt him stiffen. Glancing up, she saw that his expression had become closed and knew that he was waiting for her to ask how he had gotten them. Instead, she leaned over and gently ran her tongue over them, hearing him suck in his breath sharply. Looking up she held his eyes with hers, "We all have scars Bishop and I won't ask you about yours if you don't ask me about mine. Deal?"
Releasing the breath he had been holding he nodded, relieved that she wasn't going to pry or try to offer him pity like so many others had in the past. He would have left her then and there if she had. Hells, he would have left Nevewinter and never returned. His past was not something he liked to think about, and even though she was curious about it, he just knew she would wait for him to tell her, if he ever felt like it. Reaching out, he dragged her to lie on top of him, enjoying the feeling of her naked body on top of his. "I don't see any scars on you little elf," he commented.
"Some scars aren't visible," Nimbrethil replied quietly. "Scars on the mind and soul don't show on the outside."
"Are you talking about Lorne?" he asked, running his hands down her back. When she didn't answer, he shrugged and changed the subject. "I kind of thought for a while there that you had taken off for good, so did the others."
"Yeah, well as much as I wanted to, it wasn't really an option anymore," Nimbrethil snorted. "It seems that quite a few people want me dead and it's because of these stupid shards, of that I'm positive. It was when Thorondor told me the same thing as Nevalle that I realized what I had to do. I know that Nevalle and Nasher are using me so I might as well use them. If they want me to play squire then I will do so. Well, for at least as long as I have access to those extra resources Nevalle talked about."
Bishop couldn't repress a chuckle at her sharp words. He wondered if she would really be able to fool those idiots into thinking she had accepted their chains. "You really think you can put up with the "duties" required of you? I'm not so sure," he mocked her.
"I'm a survivor Bishop, and I can do what I have to when it is required," she retorted sharply, then grinned. "Of course, I'm likely going to end up frustrated or annoyed and take it out on those closest to me. You have been warned," she waggled her brows at him.
"Take it out on me all you like little elf, but be prepared for me to return the favor," he growled. Gripping her short hair with one hand, he pulled her head back so he could place his teeth on her neck, gripping lightly but firmly and felt her pulse start to race. "I promise, I won't be gentle," he purred as he proceeded to lick along her throat.
Nimbrethil felt a shiver run down her back, the dangerous tone of his voice stirring her blood. "Is it customary for human males to talk politics when they have a naked woman on top of them?" she asked as she ran her nails down his chest, hearing him hiss at the brief pain. The heat was beginning to spread through her body again and she wasn't in a mood to talk anymore. "Because I find that rather boring," she murmured as she pressed her hips to his.
Bishop smiled wolfishly and pulled her lips to his, kissing her deeply and hearing her moan in anticipation of what was ahead. Their earlier bout had taken the edge off and now he wanted to taste and explore every inch of her with his hands and lips. "I agree, let's leave the politics for later. I have other ideas about what to do with you," and, so saying, he proceeded to show her exactly what those ideas were.