Even as Henry's hands wrestled with hers for control of the letter opener, Marguerite stared intently at his face and features, etching his image into her memory for all the lonely years that stretched in front of her in her mind's eye.
Henry's triumph at having successfully gaining control over her weapon was short-lived.
"Henry, remember your vow. You must fulfill your oath. If you do not, you will find me dead. You may watch me to prevent that but you cannot watch me all the time. "
The steely look in Marguerite’s eyes made Henry realise she was deadly serious.
Crushing her frail frame to his, he cried, “How am I to live the rest of my life without you? It is too much to ask of me. Please…”
Restraining the emotions and tears that threatened her resolve, Marguerite replied shakily. “We will learn to live without each other if that is what it takes to ensure you are untouched by this horror.”
Meaning to offer only consolation, Marguerite lifted her lips to Henry’s for the first time since the attack. The bittersweet kiss exploded into carnal desire as Marguerite sought to push the awful memories of the attack out of her head and Henry sought to reclaim what was his. As his lips trailed down her neck and his hands caressed her nipples into aching points, Marguerite drew back as apprehension filled her. Henry looked up with some disappointment, but concern quickly tempered his rampant desire.
“Did I cause you pain? I am sorry. Is it too soon?”
“No, no…” Marguerite moved to reassure him. “Do-ddon’t you find me dirty? All those men..that night,” she asked hesitatingly, her eyes cast down, in fear of seeing disgust enter his face.
Lifting her chin, Henry stared into the face of his beloved fiancée and said steadily, “No. And nothing will ever change what is between us. I was the first to take you and since then, nothing has or will ever stand between us.”
With tears in her eyes, Marguerite moved sensually down the front of Henry. She knew her boldness pleased him as he sprang to life in her hands when she freed him from his dressing gown. Staring at the growing proof of his desire, she willed away the unbidden images of the grotesque tools of the men of the Brotherhood who raped her. As her lips tentatively closed upon the bulbous head of Henry’s arousal, she heard a groan from deep inside his throat and was amazed how such a sound that had disgusted her the night of the attack was now reaffirming her prowess as a female. Desperately wishing to give Henry as much pleasure as possible, she tried to take as much of him into her mouth as possible, almost gagging as its swelling head hit the back of her throat.
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