Remember <3

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Wow, I haven't blogged in so long, I missed my blog <3






Remember that day? The day we first met?

Remember that I hit you on your head, because you were annoying me?

Remember those two weeks after that you started walking me to the mall?

Remember when we used to talk about everything?

Remember when we saw each other every single day?

Remember the day I officially became yours?

Remember when we went out on our first official date? Our first Valentine? Our first anniversary?

Remember how much we went through?

Remember our Second anniversary?

Remember the day we broke up for less than an hour?

Remember our last day together?

Remember all these moments? All the times I cried, all the times I yelled, all the times I laughed, and yet I cannot stop smiling of all those memories, my favorite is when we were on the plane, and it was a twist of fate that you were sitting next to me, remember that day? I remember every single detail.

I miss you, I miss hugging you, I miss cuddling with you, I miss sneaking out to see you, I miss all these things. Even though I fight with you every single day, I still cherish every moment, I adore you.

Remember that we're one and never apart.

I love you.

Three words, eight letters, one sentence <3

il buruda

Friday, August 7, 2009

I am not a person who is "barda" I like getting angry and yelling and screaming, and fighting, unfortunately il7abeeb is the complete opposite, w some day I will kill him :)

the conversation went like this:

ℓ ; * says (12:46 AM):
*what must I do to put a smile on that face?

says (12:46 AM):
ℓ ; * says (12:47 AM):
says (12:47 AM):
ℓ ; * says (12:47 AM):
says (12:47 AM)

ℓ ; * says (12:47 AM):
ℓ ; * says (12:48 AM):
says (12:48 AM):
*laish :S
ℓ ; * says (12:48 AM):
says (12:48 AM):
*im not :S
ℓ ; * says (12:48 AM):
says (12:48 AM):
*ask fate
ℓ ; * says (12:49 AM):
says (12:49 AM):
*this is me being normal
ℓ ; * says (12:49 AM):
says (12:49 AM):
*i like me =/
ℓ ; * says (12:49 AM):
ℓ ; * says (12:50 AM):
*his name*
says (12:50 AM):
ℓ ; * says (12:50 AM):
says (12:50 AM):
ℓ ; * says (12:50 AM):
says (12:50 AM):
*u screaming?
ℓ ; * says (12:51 AM):
*im smelling
*your jacket
*it calms me down

says (12:51 AM):
ℓ ; * says (12:51 AM):
says (12:51 AM):
ℓ ; * says (12:52 AM):
says (12:53 AM):

Okay so, I have his jacket and I was smelling it, that might be weird -.- but shh

Something I hate

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

There's one thing I hate about myself and one thing only, I am too nice, no please don't tell me you're nice too, I'm WAY too nice, I mean, I let people walk all over me, and I still don't do anything, I still talk to them, and think they are nice to me, and they are my friends.

Scenario 1

You see last week was my 18th birthday, I was excited, I invited approximately 20 people, and they said they would come, so the day of my birthday I wake up in a good mood, I wash up, get dressed and go to work, I get on the laptop and go online, and I ask my friend what kind of songs does she like so I download them and put them on my playlist for my party and she says I don't know do whatever you want, we'll still have fun. So, I start downloading songs, and after I do my party playlist and everything, I go to the supermarket, get everything that I need, and then go home take a shower go to the salon and fix my hair, at around 5:30 I come back home, and my friends come over, and then my cousin and my other friend, at around 7:30 my best friend calls me telling me she cannot come cause she has to pick up her aunt from the airport, and I tell her come after she said she can't, little by little, people start calling/messaging telling me they can't come because they have to drop/pick up their mom/aunt/uncle/brother/sister from/to the airport.

So out of 20 people, 8 came to my party, let me tell you that my cake was HUGE, and the food was A LOT, and I was pretty upset, cause if they told me 2 days earlier I could've just gone out with my friends somewhere, they didn't have to put me through this and upset me.

Scenario 2

Today is my friend's birthday, one of the people who I invited to my party and didn't show up, so I wished her happy birthday and all last night. Today I'm messaging a friend and telling her let's go out, she say's oh I can't I'm busy... So I say oh it's A's birthday that's why you're busy? she says yes, I said have fun and that's that.

I wasn't invited to the birthday :)


Monday, August 3, 2009





The Beginning, Dominique & Blake

Monday, July 20, 2009

HEY PEOPLE!! I am sorry for the delay… but I was lazy ;( don't kill me!

I am tired of typing! I wanted it to be longer, but I got tired sorry I'll post in a day or two I promise!


Enjoy ;*



It was a mortal sin, to lust over one's brother's wife. Not that they were wed as yet… but soon enough they would be, and he had no license to burn as he did. It was the crimson she wore, he told himself that set him afire. Dominique B was ablaze as she rode within the bailey atop her small palfrey. Her gown was rich crimson; her cloak, crimson; her lips, as sumptuous a shade as the ruby jewel she wore at her breast. And her hair…it burned a shimmering copper beneath the late afternoon sun, a glorious mass of ringlets that defied rule. Like some enchanted fairy creature, all of her seemed to glimmer with each stride of her horse…


Against his will, his body quickened at the sight of her. She was bold, he decided with a shudder. Perchance too bold. Why else would she ride so fearlessly into their dominion? What did she hope to gain? Whatever it was, it was other than she claimed, he was certain. She was dangerous, he sensed. Still he craved her…craved as never before…and for an instant…for the first time in his life…he coveted his brother's place-though only for an instant, and then he cast the unforgivable sin away, to that black hollow deep within his soul.

Hardening his heart against her, Blake D cast a glance at his brother, scrutinizing Graham's reaction to the woman who had elicited such a profound response in himself. Graham stood impassive, seemingly unaffected by the creature riding so proudly on their midst, looking every bit a pagan sacrifice of old.

Did she feel herself a sacrifice?

He wondered, wishing he knew precisely what was in his brother's mind. Graham's face revealed, if aught, a slight uneasiness, thought little else. For his part, Blake only wished he were so undisturbed, and he couldn't keep himself from wondering how else he might respond was he the one receiving this barter bride today.

Impatient? Doubtful? Mistrusting? Not indifferent, he was certain. Never indifferent-and he couldn't help but consider, too, that he had been given his rightful place as heir…she would have, in truth, been hi. Aye, he knew. He's known for long, for confidences were rarely private with so many ears about. Yet it mattered not, for he was firstborn merely by a matter of moments, and if aught wounded him more, it was the simple fact that his father had all but disowned him. The truth was that he'd sworn to serve his brother, and serve him he would until his last walking breath.


If he felt aught of anger, it was fir the simple fact that their father had done Graham an injustice, consigning him as leader, for either his brother knew naught of warfare, despite his years of battle training, or he held himself a death wish. This of the two, Blake knew not. Only one thing was certain: Graham needed him. God's truth, but his younger twin brother would never have survived without him, and Blake had long made it his life's purpose to protect Graham at any cost.

Straightening to his full height, he turned to find her riding toward them still, her shoulder's back, her posture erect; her eyes-she was near enough now that he could spy their color-deepest blue. And brilliant…as though with unshed tears. Reluctant, was the thought that first came to mind. His gaze shifted to the man riding beside his own steed, his dress as lavish as her own, and then back. Aye, he decided, it was reluctantly she'd come to do her brother's bidding. Nevertheless…she'd come, and with that knowledge came a surge of resentment. For in truth, he did not trust her. Most assuredly, he did not trust her treacherous brother.


Like his father before him, William B was to be suspected-despite that he offered peace between them. Most especially not when he offered his exquisite young sister in the bargain…Graham was unwise to think it would end simply. These two were involved in some intrigue, and whatever they were after, he would discover it, by God.

That, he vowed as vehemently as he did that he would not-he refused to-covet his brother's bride.


This, the, was to be her prison?

A quiver raced down Dominique's spine at the sight of the stronghold that loomed before her. It appeared so. Upon their approach, Drakewich had appeared animated with preparations for their arrival-a flurry of movement upon the castle walls-yet now that they were within the bailey, it seemed more forbidding a place than London had surely been to the Empress Matlida-and she had been driven from the city by an angry crowd! Not a soul stirred, neither to greet them nor to spurn them, yet for the latter, at least, she was grateful. Even the donjon itself seemed a formidable thing, with its dark, high tower windows. From such a great height, a body could spy from the shadows and never be seen. It was no wonder William had sought this alliance, never in her life had seen the likes of Drakewich, so vast and so impenetrable did the stone fortress appear from within. Had she truly thought it modest from without? Had she dared deem Arndel its equal? Leaning discreetly toward her brother, she murmured beneath her breath, "They seem so…so inhospitable…" "Do they?" William answered noncommittally.


She looked at him incredulously. Sweet Mary, but how could he not have noted the overly cool reception?

Frowning, William berated her. "You fret overmuch, Dominique," he said. "Nay, William," she denied at once, "it's but that…" She cast him a despairing glance. "What if they will not accept me?" He considered her at last, though the look upon his handsome face was that amusement rather than concern. "Come now, Dominique, you cannot have expected they would receive you with open arms?" "Nay, but-"

"Hush. I promise it will change with time," he heartened, terminating her protest once and for all. He gave her a conspiratorial wink. "Cease your brooding, sister mine."

Dominique nodded dejectedly, catching her lip between her teeth, recognizing his tone. Lest she incur his anger, she left off at one. Alas, but she could only hope he was right. She sighed, and her gaze strayed toward the area before the donjon, caught by the figure of a man, his stance proud, his countenance dark. She swallowed convulsively. Blessed Mary, but she knew him at once-the Black Dragon. He was unmistakable dressed in Danish black. God's truth, but she'd tried not to imagine him when considering this union, tried not to think of him at all, but seeing him now, she could well believe every tale she'd ever heard recounted of his battle fury. And more.


Though he appeared to be weaponless, he wore hauberk and chausses, and to her mind no one had ever appeared more prepared for battle. She tried not to gape, but standing there, scrutinizing their approach, he reminded her of the barbarian Viking invaders of legend, his stance threatening even in his unaffected stillness

Fraught with anxiety, she cast a glance at her brother and found him watching prudently. Though William smiled in encouragement, panic burst through her at once. There would be no deliverance this day, she knew. He coveted this too much. With all her heart, she wanted to reel her mount about and flee before they chanced to lower the portcullis, entrapping her for always, yet merely returned William's smile, reminding herself that she did this for him. Still, he hear raced so that it ached. For him and for peace, she told herself, trying desperately to calm the ruthless beating within her breast. God's truth, but she thought she would dies here where she sat!


Nay, but how long had it been since last William has smiled so? She chided herself. The truth was that he rarely smiled at all, and now…now that he a found a cause to do so-well, she could not fail him. She observed him an instant longer and knew without question that it was the right thing to do. She would not fail him. Resolutely she turned towards her future, advising herself that she wanted this, too. It had been far too long after all-too many battles fought, too much death, and too much enmity. She, too, needed it all to end at long last-for William's sake, for the sake of his soul, as well as her own. And if William was willing to call a truce, so, too, was she. Too long had this vendetta consumed her brother.


Still she shuddered… for how could ever be peace in the Dragon's very den? That thought plagued her. "Smile, Dominique," William commanded her. Through clenched teeth, startling out of her musing. She turned abruptly to find him leaning toward her discreetly. "Smile," he bade her once more. "You look as though you ride to your death." Mayhap it was because she felt so. Still, she made a better effort for William's sake. "I…I was searching for my lord, Graham," she improvised, trying to sound eager. "Perchance do you spy him yet?"


William gave her a sidewise glance. His blue eyes, so like her own, scrutinized her an instant, and then his bros knit as he indicated, with a very discreet nod, the very place Dominique had been staring so long. "There," he stated, lifting his chin slightly and glancing in the vicinity in which the infamous Black Dragon so ominously. "Standing aside his black hearted brother."


The story...

Friday, July 10, 2009

Dear people...
At the beginning, I was just going to post a tiny part of the story, and stop, but my friend wants me to finish it all... So, I wanted to ask you, do you want me to start from the beginning so you would really understand what's going on? or do you want me to finish where I left off? do let me know...
Love, Me :D


Tuesday, July 7, 2009

OMG! Hi people! I'm so sorry, I haven't been posting lately, and I apologize. I have been busy!! Well, no not really! I just can't be bothered…

Anyways, I'm so freaking bored, I'll update soon… I promise!!!!


I want to go do my nails… and hair, and I want to feel pretty. So, that's what I'm going to do, I think…

I really need entertainment… so tell me, what have you been up to lately? And how's your summer?

Mine has been disgusting, honestly, I want to travel, but my dad and mom are being STUBBORN. Sometimes, I want to shoot them, well not sometimes, all the time. But I'm trying hard not to.


Anyway, I'm going to go now, ciao!

Dominique & Blake 4

Monday, June 29, 2009

His gaze returned to her. She stood proudly, though her eyes were full with apprehension, and he could not help but recall the way she’d protected her brother, defended him, even when the bastard did not deserve it-he’d not missed William’s bow being lowered in the forest. Yet he’d not been wholly certain, and so he’d let it pass. Still, while he could bring himself to believe that it had been an accident-and it may well have been, though he sorely doubted it-he knew as he gazed at the woman standing before him that she was innocent of her brother’s treachery.

A vision of her hastening after him in the bailey when first she’d arrived at Drakewich, defending her brother’s honor against his insinuations and outright accusations, came back to him.

Why was it the unloved fought so hard to gain what could not be held?

The question tormented him, for he could have been speaking of himself. He cleared his throat, glancing out the window. From this side of the keep, the moon was rarely visible. Once more, the night was black, the stars too far and too few to lend their meager light. He was glad she held a taper.

Tonight he wanted to see her.
She stood unmoving; her exquisite sapphire eyes fixed upon him…as though she feared what he would do next…what he would say. Her breasts rose and fell softly. Recalling the way he’d awakened this morn, cradling her soft flesh beneath his palm, he was undone.

“Where were you going, Dominique?” he asked her hoarsely. “At this late hour.” His hear hammered against his ribs.

Her brows drew together and she shuddered, though the chamber was not cold. “I…” she glanced away, closing her eyes, swallowing.

And he knew.

Yet how could he blame her for something he could not even control in himself? He thought to put her at ease, to tell her so. “Last night happened by no fault of your own,” he told her honestly. “The fault was mine.”

She peered up at him, shaking her head, her eyes welling with tears. “Nay…” she averted her gaze to the bed. “If…if only it were so,” she replied miserably.

“Last night was inevitable, Dominique.” As tonight would be. He swallowed thickly, for betrayal was no easier the second time around. But he could not help himself. “I…” He, too, glanced away, his heart hammering. “I could not stay away,” he said with no small amount of self-contempt. For an instant the silence engulfed them, surrounded them, a silence in which the beating of their hearts ticked the seconds by, drew them out to agonizing lengths.

Her features screwed with anguish as she faced him again, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “I-I did not want you to stay away,” she confessed softly, with trembling lips. Blake needed to hear no more.

Dominique cried out softly at the intensity in his eyes. He moved toward her with purpose, and God’s truth, she thought she would swoon. Without a word, he removed the candlestick from her hands, placing it down upon the coffer beside them. Its light shone between them, casting their distorted images upon the white-washed ceiling.

She gasped in surprise as he knelt at her feet, touching her hem. He glanced up at her as he lifted her chainse, silently pleading for her consent. She gave him a jerky nod, and her heart pummeled against her ribs as he bent and touched his lips to the bare skin of her calf. Goosebumps arose and spread, like wildfire, to her arms, her breasts, which ached for his touch.

With a soft cry, her head lolled backward as his lips began a slow ascent upon her legs, first one and then the other. Above her, the orange light of the taper played every motion against the ceiling. Erotic *italic. Every muscle in her body taunted as he moved up the length of her body, inch by inch, lifting the chainse mere fractions each time.

Merciful heaven, she thought she would die with the exquisite pleasure!
His tongue and his lips, they worshiped her, lapping and kissing, nipping at the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs until Dominique swore she could bare it no longer. Yet she could not speak to stop him when he lifted the chainse yet higher, to the apex above her thighs. Her legs trembled traitorously. Clutching the cloth of her gown within his fist, he held it at her belly as his mouth rose, finding and exploring her most secret pars. She swallowed convulsively.

And all the while she watched the ceiling seeing their shadows in motion, her heart tripping wildly.

Dominique felt her legs buckle beneath her, but he was there to catch her. Crying out, she fell to her knees, facing him.

“Shall I continue?” he asked her, his whisper harsh and rasping.

Dominique could not speak. Though she was not certain she could bear it, she nodded, and he proceeded to lift her chainse up and over her head, discarding it.
“I want to see you,” he whispered. “All of you…here by the candlelight.”

Dominique could not have spoken to refuse him, even if she’d wished to. But she didn’t. Once she was bared to his eyes, he merely stared, without touching her, his hands at his sides. And then he lifted on hand to her breast, touching it, cradling it reverently. And then the other. Dominique swallowed, moaning, unable to speak, unable to think when he touched her so tenderly. Her breathing quickened.

One hand left her breast, traveling down her side, her waist, he hip, as though measuring her, and then he retraced his path upwards, exploring her sensuously, and in that moment Dominique wanted to see him as well, give back to him what he gave her.

Her heart pounding, she reached to touch his hem of his tunic as he’d done with her chainse. Their eyes me, and he nodded, giving her leave. Her heart tumbled at her brazenness, but she would not stop. Following his lead, letting it fall from her hands on the floor to lie with her own discarded gown.

Before she could think to stop herself, before she could lose her nerve, she leaned over and touched her lips to his smooth chest. He groaned, his hands going to her waist to hold her, telling her without words that he approved. As never before in her life, Dominique was filled with euphoria.

She wanted to please him, she wanted to love him, wanted him to love her. She wanted to give him anything he desired, everything she owned…her mind, her body, her heart.

Remembering all that he’d done to her the night before, she sought, and found his nipples, lapping them, kissing him, each in turn. Her teeth closed about one peak, and his head fell back, the cords in his neck revealing the tautness of his body. Once again, Dominique felt triumph, even as his response to her touch brought her own body pleasure. Somewhere deep down within her, she reveled in the feel of his body, and it roused her as she’d never thought possible.

Eagerly she explored his chest with her hands and her mouth, rejoicing in the way that his muscles leapt at her every touch.
“Dominique,” he rasped. “I cannot bear it.” He reached out, seizing her hand, taking her fingers where he willed them most-the ties of his breeches.

Her heart leaping with the silent request, Dominique obeyed, unlacing them at once. They fell discarded to his knees, revealing him to her eager eyes. Again her heart tumbled, but for the longest time, she could only stare. He was magnificent.

Once again, he reached out, taking one of her hands from her side. Bringing it between them, his eyes never left hers; he unfolded her fingers, one by one, until she was left with an open fist. Bringing her fingers to his lips, he kissed them one by one, suckling them, wetting them, and then without a word, he lowered her hand to his shaft, guiding her fingers to close about it. She inhaled sharply, the beat of her heart quickening, but she did not resist. She held him, her own body convulsing privately with the feel of him against her palm.

Nor was he unaffected, for he closed his eyes, and his body jerking slightly, his hand falling away.

“I’ve yearned for this-” he swallowed visible “-since the day you bathed me,” he told her honestly, and then he gazed at her once more, his eyes glittering as though with fever. Dominique could not find her voice to speak. Nor could she move. She continues to kneel before him, without the first clue as to what he wished for, her breast heaving. He seemed to understand her dilemma, for he chuckled softly, richly, and the sound was as arousing as her as the feel of his body within her hand

Smiling, the first true smile she’d ever spied upon his beautiful lips, he moved within her fist, once, twice, and then again, and Dominique was undone. He body suffused with heat. “Please,” she cried out, panting softly.

He withdrew, and reached out, sweeping her up into his arms. He lifted her, carrying her swiftly to bed. Though unlike the night before, he laid her down gently, and then stood, staring down at her, slowly, fitting his body against her own. Dominique welcomed his weight, gripping the bed sheets, lifting her knees instinctively. Again he chuckled, and the sound was ambrosia to her senses. He found her, impaled her slowly, embedding himself, and then he stilled.

“Show me what you want,” he commanded her softly, lifting himself and bracing his weight upon his arms to give her room. At first Dominique could not quite comprehend what he asked of her, and then she did. She began to move beneath him, moaning with the extraordinary sensations that burst through her.

She wanted this to last an eternity, wanted to never end… at first the pace was slow, and then, though she tried to restrain herself, she quickened it, gasping aloud when he joined her movements. Instinctively Dominique wrapped her legs about his thighs, bringing him closer against her, wanting him deeper still.

She surged upwards, impaling herself further, and then the pace was lost to them as their bodies took over the mating ritual.

“I cannot bear it,” Blake growled, and then he drew back and began to thrust and withdraw without restraint.

Crying out, whimpering, Dominique met his every thrust, drawing him deeper each time. Until it seemed be touched her very core. In that instant her body shattered into a thousand brilliant pieces.

And still he did not stop. He pumped fiercely, seeking his own release, and Dominique’s heart leaped higher and higher with each stroke. Until she though she would die. He brought her yet another release, and then with a last rousing thrust, he cast his head backward, crying out savagely.

He collapsed atop her burying his face against her neck, and Dominique held him, stroking his back, running her fingers through his hair.

With all her might, she fought the yearning to tell him that she loved him.

Dominique & Blake 3

I am so happy that I'm getting feedback! and thank you Charmbracelet, Anonymous1, Dreamer;*, Anonymous 2, and Love;** for your comments! ;*... This one is dedicated to you:D

Morning rays streamed in through the open shutters, spilling golden light into Dominique’s face. Yet the light was not what first awoke her. From the bailey came the shouts and sounds of men and horses, the chinking and clanging of armor, the neighing of restless mounts.

The next thing she became aware of was the hand cradling her bare breast…the soreness between her legs. Her heart lurched as sultry images from the night came back to plague her. She winced, biting into her lower lip, and shielding her eyes with a hand, stole a glance at the other occupant of the bed. Seeing him lying there beside her, she knew it had not been a dream, and she was at once filled with conflicting emotions-too many to recount.

His eyes were as yet close, and he lay upon his belly with one arm thrown over her chest, pinning her to the bed. The palm of his hand cupped one breast. Sweet Jesus, even now, without as much trying, his touch stirred her body to life. She tried not to note the contrasts of their skin, his dark hand against her pale flesh, tried not to focus upon the feel of his battle hardened fingers upon her smooth body.

She looked, instead, at his face. In sleep, his expression lost much of its harshness. Even the scar upon his cheek was less visible somehow. Wondering again how he’d received it, she stifled the urge to reach out and touch it.

Afraid that the moment would come to an end.

Would he awake despising her once more? Or would his eyes gaze at her tenderly? She was afraid to discover the truth. Afraid because she knew that no matter how he felt about her now-even did he loathe her-she could no longer deny her own hear. She’d given herself freely to him last night, and the worse part of it was that now, in the morning light, she could not even find proper regret.

She was no different from her mother, loving a man she could not have.

Yet at least now she understood.

With a sleepy groan, he flexed his hand suddenly, squeezing her breast, a lazy though reverent gesture. Dominique bit down into her lip, suppressing the telltale moan his touch aroused. And then his eyes flew wide as he heard the heavy, grating sound of the portcullis as it rose. Within the space of seconds, he bounded from the bed to the window. Try as she might, Dominique could not avert her eyes from his nude form as he stood looking though the open shutters. He was a stunning masculine specimen, his buttocks and legs as well muscled as his chest-more so.

“Damn me to hell!” he muttered furiously.
He spun to face her, completely uninhibited in his naked state, his green eyes impaling her. By his expression, Dominique knew it was grave.

She sat at once, searching for her own. Finding it in shreds, she flushed, and lifted the linen sheet to her bosom instead. “What is it?” she asked fearfully. He didn’t respond. Save to come to the bed. He snapped the sheet about jerking it from her in his fury searching for his clothing.

Dominique could feel the blood drain from her face. “What?” she persisted, scrambling to cover herself once more. “You must tell me! What is it? My brother? Has he returned?”

Finding what he searched for-his breeches-he jerked them up from the bed and tugged them on, glaring down at her as he laced his ties. His green eyes smoldered with contempt-for her? Himself? Either way, it pained her to spy it, for she knew at once he regretted what had passed between them last night.

Still she could not.
Her cheeks grew warmer; for she watched him shamelessly despite that he glowered down at her. Despite that her brother might be very well be riding though those gates, and might soon discover her perfidy.

His eyes narrowed with displeasure. “They are leaving,” he apprised her.
For an instant Dominique could not think clearly. “Who?” she shook her head, uncomprehending. “Who is leaving?”
“Graham,” he snapped. With his laces bound at last. He turned to go. “Your betrothed, lest you forget,” he reminded her cruelly. Dominique’s heart twisted with the unfair accusation. God’s truth, but she’d not participated alone! She wanted to shout at him, rail at him, but was too stunned even to speak. He didn’t bother to glance back at her, and slammed the door as he left the chamber.

Chocking back a sob, Dominique found her regret at once. Springing from the bed, she flew at the door, striking it once with her fist, and crying out in anger. Yet her rage was directed more at herself than at Blake, for sweet merciful Christ, how could she me have been so witless last night?

Turning her back to the door, she leaned against it, her limbs quavering. Never had she despised her self more than she did in that instant-never had she felt more the fool. She loved a man who could not love her back…and in loving him, had betrayed the man she was to wed-not to mention her brother, who would surely be enraged.
Aye, she was a fool.

How in God’s name, had she embroiled herself so? Had Graham come upon them this morn? Dominique could not help but wonder. And fret. If he had spied them in just such an intimate lover’s embrace as she’d awakened in this morn, she could not blame him for despising her. Aye and she could well understand why he would go.

Sweet Jesus, what would William say? Mayhap, that was where Graham had gone-to William. That possibility both dismayed her and filled her with hope. For even still she prayed the alliance could be salvaged. It had to be salvaged, for otherwise…well, she could not bear to think of otherwise.

Blake took great pains to avoid her the rest of the day, for Dominique knew very well that he’d not accompanied Graham to London. She discovered that he’d been commanded to remain in Drakewich -an edict that enraged him beyond reason, she knew, because his angry bellows had reached her all the way into her chamber.

Returning the courtesy, she evaded him-Alice, too, for she was in no mood for companionship-busying herself with any diversion she could find. If ever she became the Lady of Drakewich, she would assume the duties of chatelaine. Until then, she has no right to the keys, nor was Drakewich in dire need of her direction. It seemed the seneschal performed his duties all too well. She was not needed here, nor was she wanted, it seemed.

With little better to do, she went to the mews to gain another glimpse of the birds Graham kept, and was astounded once again at the wealth hoarded therein. But standing there, staring at the gyrfalcon, she was accosted anew with every memory and emotion she was trying so hard to forget.

After the news, she visited her palfrey within the stables, making certain the animal was getting the proper care, and then, with nothing more to explore, she closeted herself within her chamber-waiting, though she knew not for what.

Mayhap she hoped he would come to her-and perchance she simply feared to garner his wrath did she meet with him unexpectedly. As of yet, she wasn’t certain what to say to him when she next saw him.

Surely he could not blame her for what had happened between them last eve? Certainly she blamed herself, but he had no right to place the blame solely at her feet-nor would she receive it wholly.

With every hour she spent alone, Dominique’s fury grew. So, too, did her anguish and her confusion. She missed the evening me purposely…yet she wanted nothing more than to see him. She tried to sleep, but could scarcely close her eyes. Whenever she did, the previous night’s memories came back to torment her.

At last she could bear it no longer, and she arose from the bed, tossing off the coverlet, fully intending to seek him out once and for all. She found and lit a taper against the vacuous darkness of the tower chamber. As she lifted it up, she startled suddenly, nearly dropping the taper when she heart the antechamber door open, and then close.

For an instant Dominique froze, uncertain what to do. Holding the candlestick before her trembling hands, she turned to face the door, her heart racing.

It had proven impossible for him to keep his distance.
Even knowing it was wrong.
Even knowing the price they would pay-might have already paid-for he was uncertain that Graham had spied them together.
Like a drunkard after taking his first swill, he was forced to seek another, and another…and another.

Blake had fully intended to spend the night within Graham’s chamber, as far as he could from her-but his feet had continued up the tower steps, defying him even as he commanded himself to go back.

God damn him to hell, but he could not.
And tonight he had not even the wine to use as an excuse

He went with a clear mind, and free will, and a leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach that was the essence of betrayal.

Upon opening the door to his chamber, he found her standing barefoot before him, dressed only in her Chainse. Her auburn locks were loose, her curls wildly disheveled as though from slumber. He tried to speak, but the sight of her staggered him, rendered him speechless. He’d expected to find her abed-had hoped to, or so he’d told himself- so that he could see her, satisfy his curiosity, and then turn and go.
But she was not abed.
And he knew damned well he would not have left her, even had she been deep in slumber.

She said nothing, though her lips parted to speak.
If she asked him to leave, he wasn’t certain he could comply.

The light of the candle illuminated her beautiful face…her brilliant sapphire eyes, and her bosom, clad in the most diaphanous white cloth he had ever beheld. Fine from use, and un pleated, it fell short of her ankles, telling him that the garment was far from new.

It occurred to him suddenly that, while she had fine, new gowns-one less after he’d all but destroyed the one fashioned of his own stolen cloth-the majority of her garments where thread-worn and long outmoded. It led him to wonder that her brother did not value her overmuch. The fact that he’d simply left her, without remaining to witness a ceremony, had seemed strange at the time…yet now it began to make sense. William could not value her, or he would have remained-regardless of the hostilities that lay between them.

If she had been his own blood, he would have remained by her side until the last instant, guarding her honor.

He found himself regretting that he’d destroyed the crimson gown. It was no wonder she’d worn it so often-and no wonder she’d taken such pride in the accursed thing. It was likely the only thing her brother had gifted her with in years. His gaze had drawn to her coffers-merely two, confirming his suspicions. That she should have so little baggage for all her worldly possessions was inconceivable. His gut twisted with the realization and he found himself wishing he could bestow other gowns upon her. Found himself wishing that it were his right to do so.

He found himself wishing she were to become his bride…that he might shower her with all that her heart desired.

Dominique & Blake 2

Sunday, June 28, 2009

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Dominique was only vaguely aware that he lifted her Chainse, but she welcomed it...wanted to feel his mouth on her bare flesh...his hands...though with a desperation that dismayed her, she fought the separation of their bodies, clinging to him as though she would die with their parting.
And God’s truth…she though she might. Unable to remover he gown with her mindless struggles, Blake gripped the neckline instead, rending it savagely, jerking it from between them once and for all.

The shock of bodily contact was physical.

He groaned in torment at the feel of her bare breasts arching against him, her pebbled nipples rising to brush against his chest…her warmth, her softness.

Like a man possessed, he rocked against, losing himself a little more with every mindless undulation. He could not see her, but he could feel her, and she felt exquisite.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. The feel of her was ecstasy. “My God, you are beautiful.” And if he didn’t bare himself at once, he thought he would go mad. He fumbled between them for the ties that bound his breeches, and shrugged out of them, gasping aloud as he freed himself, at last. Reaching down, he hooked his arms beneath her knees, raising her legs.

She was a vixen…her brother’s whore…and she incited him to madness-best the truth be discovered sooner, he told himself. For his brother’s sake. The woman beneath him could not possibly be pure. The fire within her burned too hotly for him to believe it had never been kindled before.

In all likelihood his brother had already discovered that fact, and that was why he ordered her out of his chamber.
With that last piercing thought, he positioned himself against her, holding her legs up for his pleasure. He didn’t care. He wanted her to take him deeply, sheathe him wholly. She moaned beneath him in wanton abandon, writhing in expectation of his entrance into her body.

Well, she need wait no longer, he though viciously.
Nor could he
Damn that whore!
He slid the tip of his shaft easily within her, and then surged down against her, groaning with the exquisite tightness of her body ensheathing him.

Dominique cried out with the pain of his intrusion, going still beneath him. Her body began a cold sweat, but clenched her teeth and bore it, knowing the pleasure would come again. Alice had told her so.

She knew it instinctively as well.

Above her, Blake, too, went wholly still. “Damn you,” he muttered. At once he began to withdraw, but the pain had faded, and Dominique could not bare him to leave her now.

Now they were just beginning…
Now she was just beginning…
She wrapped her legs about his waist, holding him in that ageless lover’s embrace.

“Damn me,” he whispered. “Damn me…damn me…God forgive me, I cannot stop.” He lowered himself against her once more, rocking her gently, letting her adjust to his size, his arms trembling with restraint.

Dominique’s fingers skimmed the taut muscles of his arms. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, feeling him, stroking his back, reveling in the width of his muscled shoulders, the heath of his body. Without thinking, she drew his head down to hers, craving his kisses fiercely.

He responded at once, as though he understood what she needed. His tongue flicked out, brushing her lips, and Dominique opened to him wholly. When he teased her mouth, she suckled his tongue, tentatively offering her own in return. His response was a low, guttural moan.

With that small victory, she whimpered softly, wanting to move against her again…as he had before. Mindlessly she rocked against him.

He reached down at once, stilling the movement of her hips. “Do not,” he rasped, and made once more to withdraw.

Dominique followed him with her hips, forcing him within her. Crying out when he withdrew again, farther this time, she grasped the sheets, and followed him stubbornly.

“Dominique,” he cautioned, withdrawing once more, so that the tip of his shaft was all that remained. “You cannot know…”
“I do,” she murmured breathlessly. “I do…” Feeling never more brazen, for this could not be real; she locked her legs about his waist and surged upward, crying out as he filled her at last. “I do,” she whispered euphorically.

Tendrils of heat slithered through her forbidden regions, making her cry in triumph. Never had she imagined such sensations possible.

Never had she dreamed.
“I cannot stop,” he warned her now. “I cannot!” with a harsh cry of his own, he withdrew and surged forward again.

Dominique screamed. “Nay!” she cried. She did not want him to leave her. She never wanted him to.
She wanted this never to end.
She wanted him to fill her this way always.
Just now, there was no world, only the two of them.
There was no betrothal, no brother, and no daylight.
Only the two of them, and the darkness. Tomorrow was soon enough to consider those things.
Tonight she could only think of this. This incredible sensation that tore through her, pulling her into a whirlwind of unconscious feeling. Clutching the bed sheets desperately as he moved against her, Dominique sobbed softly, welcoming him.
Christ…he was mad…she was his brother’s wife.

He could not spill himself within her. He could not, he commanded himself. It would be the final betrayal-though God curse him, or save him, he could not stop.
He could not

Once more he tried in vain to withdraw, and was undone by the silky softness of her. He lost all control then, thrusting savagely, filling her, and withdrawing. When her body tightened and convulsed about him, he arched his head backward crying out, a guttural, tormented sound. Beneath him, Dominique sobbed with her own release, her body convulsing, coaxing his seed from him, and demanding his surrender.

With a last powerful thrust, Blake spilled himself deep within her.
And it was not enough.
He clutched her buttocks, pressing her tightly against himself, undulating once more, and once more, driving his seed into the very depths of her body.
And even then he could not stop.
Tonight, against all mortality, he’s made her his own…and he could not blame the wine.
He was weak and without honor.
And the fault was wholly his own. Tomorrow the price of his sin would be weighed in the full light of day.
But tonight, for the first time since his youth, his eyes glazed with tears. With a low, harsh cry he collapsed atop her, holding her tightly… burying himself within the silence and the darkness.

God help him, his father had been right