Maiden and the Monster Read online

  “You are the earl’s daughter?” Vladamir kept his voice deadly calm, but the harsh tone was unmistakable, even to him. The woman jumped in alarm and edged away from him. Her one good eye rounded and darted about the chamber in confusion. It would be easy for her to detect the hatred in him. He didn’t try to hide it.

  “Yea,” she whispered. “I am.”

  “Then ‘twas your father that brought you here,” he concluded with a vicious growl. Only the fact that her face was already so violated stopped him from striking out. “To what purpose?”

  “Nay, not my father. He doesn’t know where I am.”

  Vladamir scowled at her, a grim light of determination unraveling inside him. A long moment of silence passed, marked by the heavy panting of the frightened woman. The confusion on her face was evident as her naked arm came out from under the coverlet. Her long, delicate fingers twitched in the air as she searched for him with the tips of her broken fingernails. Suddenly, the duke grinned, causing Ulric to tremble in response.

  “Ulric, Lady Eden is now my prisoner. She is not to leave this chamber until I give her permission.” Vladamir stalked toward the bed, letting her hear his steps. Another bruise blackened her arm and led over her shoulder to disappear beneath the fur. The sight didn’t affect him. He had no pity in his heart for Clifton’s seed. “Ulric, leave us.”

  “But, m’lord,” Ulric began, distraught, even as his tone held a bit of warning in it. The duke held up a dismissive hand to ward off anything the manservant might say in the maiden’s defense. The servant nodded and hurried from the chamber.

  The door slammed shut and Eden jumped in alarm, fairly screaming. “Please, don’t. Whatever you’re about, stop. I’ve done nothing to you.”

  Vladamir ignored her entreaty as he drew near. Her legs twitched under the coverlet, pressing tightly together. A wry smile of amusement lit his face at the defensive act. It would take more than her will to stop him once his mind was set.

  He sat next to her on the bed, his weight causing her to lean toward him. The fire crackled loudly, marking the time that passed in silence. The bare, black stone walls of the small chamber reflected the eerie orange light. The room was musty with the smell of dust and old straw. Vladamir paid the chamber little heed. His attention focused on the slender woman before him as he struggled to contain his fury. A faint trace of lilies wafted up to him. Haldana must have used the costly soap to clean the woman. Seeing the caking of blood in her dark locks, he wondered why the servant didn’t also wash the noblewoman’s hair.

  “I don’t understand,” Eden said. “Why would you keep me here? Why would you not send me back to my father’s keep? And if not there, then on to the nunnery—any nunnery. Surely even a monster would be kind enough to let me live my days out as a nun. I’ll cause no harm. If you please, I’ll never see my father again. You have my word on it.”

  Vladamir didn’t answer. He got the impression from her hasty plea that it was her wish to never see the earl again. If it was her father that beat her, he couldn’t blame her. But, through his blind hatred, he couldn’t feel pity for the seed of his enemy. He drew closer to her and realized that she was sick. Her eye still held the feverish light of the ill in it. That is why her body radiated with such drawing heat. She held herself well considering. Why hadn’t he realized it before?

  “Do you understand m’lady? You’re not to leave here. This is your new home.” Vladamir licked his lips, seeing the texture of her flesh. She was so close, so warm. Would her thighs be soft? Wet? Would they part willingly for him if he were to coax them apart? The duke liked that she couldn’t see him, liked that she was ugly from the beating. Lowering his tone to a deadly, guttural whisper, until it cracked with the darkness of his words, he said, “And I’m your new master.”

  “Yea-nay,” Eden stammered, shaking her head. The blood drained completely from her face and she swayed on the bed. Her hand dropped to the straw mattress, but she didn’t pull it under the covers. “Would you eat me? I heard you must dine on the flesh of your victims or you’ll die. I always thought it quite sad.”

  “Sad for whom? The victims?” Vladamir chuckled despite himself at her innocent superstition. Though he was intrigued by the thought of dining on her flesh, but not in the morbid way she suspected. His body hummed with a wealth of mixed passions and he couldn’t stop thinking of the ways he would take her. He’d denied his baser needs for far too long. What better revenge on his old enemy than that? But, no, he would bide his time before deciding how best to use her.

  “Yea and for you. You must be so lonely. Methinks…” Her swollen lid shut briefly. “Please—”

  “Please?” he taunted against her throat, feeling her to shiver as he brushed his lips along her earlobe. His cock throbbed, urging him on. It would be so easy to end the suffering he felt. “You wish to be my sacrifice? You want that I should dine on your body? You feel sorry for me and wish to feed me?”

  “Nay.” The protest wasn’t as strong as it should’ve been. “I wish to be let go.”

  “Nay, you’re my prisoner. Resolve yourself to it.” Forming his words carefully, so she couldn’t mistake him, he added, “For you won’t be released and you won’t be saved. You’ll never escape me and I’ll never let you go.”

  “Why?” Eden moved to sit up straighter but fell backward when her cheek brushed up against his. Biting her swollen lip, she lifted her hand to touch his jaw. The action caught his attention, adding fuel to the already dangerous fire inside him. Her hand missed and instead found itself on his neck, her fingers instantly grazing the bumpy texture of his skin. He waited for her scream of fear as she touched his neck, running her fingers up to his jaw line. Instead, she calmly asked, “Why would you keep me here? I have done naught to deserve this.”

  She searched his skin in light feathery caresses but didn’t pull away. Not knowing why, he let her touch him. He leaned forward, knowing she didn’t understand him, knowing she wasn’t well. Closing his eyes, he held still and waited. Finally, her hand fell to his shoulder to rest on his undertunic, nestling into the material. The rise and fall of his chest appeared to give her some comfort.

  “Would you like to be a feast for a monster?” He touched the tip of his tongue to her hot flesh, making her shiver. A frail groan of surprise came from her and she leaned closer to him as if she might rest upon his arm. He grabbed her by her dirty hair and drew her head sharply to the side, away from any such tender action. She gave a slight moan but didn’t push him away. Her fingers clutched nervously on his tunic, twining into the laces.

  The rapidly beating pulse at her neck pounded fiercely under the dark marring of her skin. A fading bruise started at the base of her throat, only to taper into five very notable finger marks. It was as he guessed. She’d been strangled. Was it all a ruse? Was Clifton trying to confuse him? Trying to make him feel pity for the woman? It wouldn’t work. He’d lost all pity long ago.

  Hadn’t he?

  Vladamir frowned as he studied her. His rage and desire mixed with concern. Leaning his head against her temple to keep her from pulling away, he took his free hand and gently touched the line of her cheek.

  The duke twisted his hand, thoughtfully drawing the backs of his fingers over her cheek and throat. The black onyx ring glided over her skin, contrasting the paleness of her flesh. Her breath caught in her throat. He continued downward, waiting for her to yell, to pull away in fear. She never did. As he looped his finger over the top edge of the fur coverlet, he kept his face close to her neck, letting his breath fall on her skin. Since her grip on the coverlet was behind the small of her back, it was easy for him to tug the material over her breasts. She gasped as the air hit her flesh.

  The duke loosened his grip on her hair and his touch became gentle, caressing. He tugged the fur down slowly, not looking at her chest, merely feeling the scorching heat that radiated off it. Her hand fell from his chest to squeeze the tight muscle of his exploring arm and yet she still didn’t push hi
m away.

  Vladamir couldn’t resist. Her breasts lured his hand downward. It was too much. He needed release, needed to bury himself into something soft. The woman seemed willing—more willing than many in a long time. At least she wasn’t fighting him off.

  He looked over the soft skin of her throat to her shoulder and then lower to the perfect breasts, aching to take them into his palm, to feel her nipples hardening against his flesh. His body lurched. Blood pumped heavily into his loins, burning his flesh with a passionate fire. His cock grew taller, harder, as it strained to be set free.

  He knew she couldn’t see him, but that was part of the appeal. What was it about this maiden that drew such a response from him? He didn’t want to feel, not now, not after the years of blessed numbness.

  She appeared unafraid of him and didn’t try to resist. Her eyes didn’t boldly stare, or look away with pointed dismissal. She didn’t cringe with disgust. He detected her confusion, sensed her apprehension and saw the fevered light of her eyes. The desire for human contact that came from the basest and most primal of human needs welled within him. He wanted to touch her, wanted to feel the closeness of flesh along his own. He refrained and instead contented himself to look at her creamy flesh, ignoring the bruises that littered her body.

  And then she moaned, a soft plea—the sound a woman made when she wanted to be touched. Vladamir couldn’t resist the spell of her. He leaned in, gently kissing her throat, brushing his lips softly against each of the finger bruises. She moaned again. The sound would be his undoing.

  He drew his hand to her breast, lifting it in his palm. Her skin was soft against his calloused fingers. Again she made the soft, accepting noise. It had been so long since he’d bedded a woman.

  So long, so long…

  Vladamir flicked his tongue over her neck, deepening his kisses as he worked his mouth against her skin. Her breath caught and held. Emboldened, he couldn’t stop. She didn’t touch him, didn’t fight him off.

  He massaged her breast in kneading circles, drawing his thumb over the erect nipple. Adjusting his body on the bed, he became more forceful. He took a nipple between his lips, sucking at it, biting it. But, when he moved his hand lower to test the wet resolve between her thighs, she stiffened and her moan of pleasure became one of fear.

  Vladamir instantly drew back, breathing hard. What was he doing? This could very well be Clifton’s trap. He looked down at his hand. The roughness of it contrasted her softness. Emotions warred within him when he would rather not feel a thing. Taking a controlled hand, he pulled the fur upward, purposefully grazing the back of his hand over a nipple on the way. He stifled a groan, wanting his numbness back. He didn’t want to be awakened—not with passion, not with anything—and he especially didn’t want to be awakened by Clifton’s daughter.

  The duke doubted he could control himself if he were to stay in the chamber with her. Already his body pulsed with desire for the soiled maiden. His lips ached with the need to pull her erect nipple back between his teeth and his fingers itched to dip into the sweetness of her wet slit. His arousal pulsed to thrust within her most sacred of places, as if knowing her pussy would cling to him, tight and hot. He could have her and no one would ever know. Angry with himself and with her for tempting him, he howled a loud and monstrous sound.

  Eden gasped as pleasure shot through her. Her mouth gaped open in wonder at the new sensation and her stomach throbbed with the rest of her body. The emotion made her weak in her illness, until she was sure she might swoon.

  The duke was so near. The sound of his voice vibrated through her, sparking her body to life. His weight shifted on the bed. She couldn’t move, hearing well the commanding tone in him when he spoke. This was not a man she would disobey.

  Her flesh tingled to the point that she felt herself losing awareness. Only his hand on her hair holding her up and his deadly sounding admission stopped her from collapsing. She was all too aware of his presence and how vulnerable she was in it. His breath hit her skin, smelling of mint. Transfixed by his nearness, she breathed deeply. He smelled of the earth.

  How could she fight that which she couldn’t see? How could she fight a beast of fire? Eden sensed that he drew nearer still. Her flesh tingled in anticipation of his touch, until her nipples ached and her thighs tightened, wanting more.

  When she’d touched him, the texture of his skin intrigued her, even as it terrified her. His wasn’t the smooth face of a man. Her throat worked in confusion, as the blood stirred violently in her veins. His accent, his words excited her as no man ever had. She didn’t understand that excitement. It both mystified and terrified her. She was helpless against it.

  That is because he is not a man. He is a monster. He is a demon who sets my blood on fire.

  It might be foolish, but she felt no fear of him. He entranced her senses with his nearness, wove a spell about her with his dark words. She waited for the feel of his lips to come back to her with innocent anticipation. Her head throbbed. She closed her eyes and quit trying to see about her. The light only made her headache worse.

  The fur caressed her injured skin in a gliding stroke as he pulled it back over her chest. Time was suspended in the heat of his nearness. Eden was nervous and afraid. Never before had a man, let alone a monster she couldn’t see, looked at her naked, touched her naked flesh. All too aware of where his breath touched her, of where his hand had glided on her flesh, she wanted more. But more of what?

  “Please.” She moved her hand from his arm and tried to pull the fur more fully around her body. “Let me go. You don’t want me as your prisoner. I have done nothing to you. You have no reason to keep me.”

  “You’ll pay for the sins of your father. ‘Tis all you need to know.” He laughed, low and cruel.

  “Will you kill me?” Clutching the dirty coverlet to her chest, she tried to wipe off the feel of him. “Will you ravish me?”

  “What I do to you will depend, on part, by your actions.”

  Eden opened her mouth to speak, but the door opened and she heard him leave. Her lids grew heavy and black. She turned onto her side and curled in a ball, unable to get the feel of the quick brush of his hand off the skin of her chest.

  Who are you? What do you want from me?

  Chapter Three

  “M’lord, please reconsider yer decision. She had naught to do with what transpired between you and the earl. She would’ve been no older than a child when it happened. By hell’s fire! She is no more than a child now.” Ulric had been waiting for his master to come from the maiden’s chambers and now hastened to keep up with the duke’s faster pace. Wiping the sleeve of his tunic across his bald forehead, he said, “You punish the wrong person.”

  “Nay, I shall use her to punish the right person. She is a means to an end. Her life is mine. I saved her from death.” Vladamir growled, slashing his hand for silence. The belt at his waist twisted erratically in the air as he walked faster. “Besides, she has the ignorant tongue of her father.”

  “Because she called you a monster?” Ulric shook his head, trying to follow his lordship’s irrational reasoning. “‘Tis yer own fault you are known as such. Since when do you care what the people of Wessex call you? Methinks you feel sorry fer her. Methinks you like her. That is why you make her yer prisoner. You have grown lonely and don’t want her to go. You want the maiden fer yer bed.”

  “Nay,” Vladamir denied. “Enough of your blathering nonsense. I’ll have none of your illogical sentiments. Lady Eden of Hawks’ Nest means only revenge to me, naught else. She is my prisoner—my slave. I own her. I just have to decide how to best use her.”

  “She is just a young woman—an innocent young woman already treated more cruelly by her father than you ever were. Just look at her face.” Ulric tried in vain to hide the censure in his voice and failed. He struggled to keep up with his master’s stride, lumbering down the stairwell. “You couldn’t think to harm her. She has been through enough. If anything, you should be protecting her.
Did you not look at her poor face? What has happened to you? Where is yer honor, m’lord?”

  “Nay, she is his child.” Vladamir glanced back, his face hard. “She is his heathen seed so don’t speak to me about honor. ‘Tis not in her bloodline.”

  “And would you say the same fer Lady Gwendolyn, yer daughter?” Ulric returned, unabashed. The duke’s temper was always quick to rise as though it seemed to bubble just below his surface at all times. “Would you see her persecuted fer the sins of her father?”

  “That is different,” Vladamir retorted with a growl. “Gwendolyn has naught to do with this.”

  “Nay, m’lord, ‘tis very much the same. Mayhap you had better think afore you condemn Lady Eden to whatever dark thoughts are swimming about in yer head.” They reached the bottom of the steps leading from the above chambers. Ulric lowered his voice. “M’lady is innocent in this. You cannot harm her. If you just let yer anger cool, you’ll see it as well.”

  Rage warred with hatred in Vladamir’s eyes—a dangerous combination. Ulric had always known there was a bitter hatred boiling within the duke, but he hadn’t suspected the hard depths of it.

  The servant took a deep breath. “I’ll send one of the maids to her with food. Methinks it wouldn’t do to have her starve afore you could extract yer revenge.”

  The duke growled, glaring at the manservant. Grabbing a fistful of Ulric’s tunic, he gave him a rough shake, desperately wanting to quiet his tongue. His fingers flexed, releasing the man just as quickly. He shook his head in torment, unable to harm the man—no matter what he said.

  Swallowing hard, he endeavored to remain calm. Ulric stalked away from him. Even in his anger, the duke was reluctant to punish the aging servant for the disobedience. He still valued his seneschal’s opinions, no matter how ungratefully they were delivered. Even in his outrage, he was loath to give up such loyalty as Ulric showed.