Royal Sentence (Steamy Historical)

Chapter 3: Search

Roland noticed her shift in mood. Her fear was useless to him, she would shut down and he would have no grasp on her. Anger or hate would make her vulnerable, if he played his cards right. Fortunately for him, this young lady had quite a temper.

"I'll give you one more chance then. I still have to discipline you. These roguish tendencies must be controlled. The King will visit you and I cannot have you attacking him. Aside from the lethal consequences for you, it wouldn't reflect favorably on me. So, what do you think you deserve?"

"I don't deserve to be punished," she mumbled stubbornly. This was no choice at all, he was just toying with her. She wished she had her dagger. She would skin him alive, starting with these male attributes he was so proud of.

"I'll choose for you then. It will be easy, as I can guess your biggest fear."

"You know nothing of me," she spat at him.

"You are afraid of rape, that's a given, and we have already established that this is a course of action I will not take. But beyond that, you cannot bear to be touched. You flinch every time I make contact with you."

"You are wrong. I just don't want YOU anywhere near me. I find you repulsive."

Roland chuckled. "No you don't. You won't admit it though."

"Oh, I'll admit that you are the most conceited, inflated prick to ever walk the surface of the Earth!" Sabine was aware of the petulant childishness of her retort, but short of punching him, it was the best she could find to vent her frustration. This man's conceit had no boundaries.

"Why thank you, although you haven't seen it yet..."

Her indignant squeal was cut short when his fingers curled around her breast, fondling it with a gentleness she had never experienced. The sensation was nothing like the harsh groping she had endured before. This was... nice.

Her eyes widened. It couldn't, it shouldn't feel like this. She knew it was impossible. And yet...

Roland was watching her, fascinated by her reaction. Tentatively, he glided the fingertips of his free hand along the curve of her hip, towards the flat plane of her belly. She shivered, nearly imperceptibly, but enough for him to notice.

"What is this? What are you doing to me?" Her tone was a mix of awe and panic.

"Teaching you pleasure."

He pursued his leisurely exploration of her body, lavishing every inch in expert caresses.

Sabine was lost in a sensual haze, unable to process what was happening to her. Roland's hands seemed to be everywhere, leaving delicious aftershocks in their wake. Waves of goosebumps ran freely along her skin, flowing in warm streams towards her lower stomach. In the distance, someone was singing, a soft, sad song.

"You have a beautiful voice."

What did he mean? Sabine was confused. She stared at him with glazed eyes, and Roland went to stroke the inside of her thighs, so white and silky he had a sudden craving to run his lips on them.

She whimpered and feebly attempted to dislodge the teasing digits. "No, don't, not there..."

"Hush, trust me, you will love this."

He moved a little higher, grazing her delicate folds.

A single tear ran down her cheek. "Please, no..." Her memory kept telling her that pain was coming.

"Shh..." Two fingers slid slowly into her and her whole body tensed, bracing for the worst. "Just trust me, Sabine."

Trust him. What a ridiculous demand! And yet, somehow, so very tempting. Deep down, she was aware it was foolish, but what else did she have to lose? If he wanted to torture her, there was no escape. And if he didn't, maybe she could afford to let her guard down, for a brief moment.