Dark Castle by Shanna Handel

2

Willow

He’ll come.

He’s going to come.

The floor is damp beneath me, the cold soaking through the thin fabric of my dress. Where am I? Some kind of basement? A dungeon in this abandoned castle? The only window in this room is too high for me to see through. It lets in a few weak rays of the late afternoon sun, their beams dappling the concrete floor.

A shudder tears through me so hard it makes my neck snap, my teeth chatter. Why would she do this to me? Is there no end to the suffering she’ll inflict on her own blood? How can someone who you thought loved you more than anything in the world do this to you?

He’ll come.

He has to come.

I fold my knees closer to my chest, hugging them tightly in my arms. My head rests on the stone wall behind me. I want to thump it against the rock, hard, just to create some physical pain.

To dull the heavy ache in my heart.

Tears come to my eyes. I won’t let them fall. I’ve shed enough tears over her. The time for crying is over. Now, I wait.

Funny, she’s not what I thought she was, but neither is he.

They told me he’s a playboy, a man who sleeps with anything that walks. But he won’t sleep with me. Silly girl. Your life is on the line and you’re sitting here worrying over your virginity?

The attraction is there between us, burning bright and white hot. We’re connected. In a deep way. I feel it when his fingers graze my skin as he protectively presses his palm against my lower back. He does that a lot, seeming to say she’s mine.

His eyes send the same message, dark and burning into my soul as he stares at me. His words say one thing: we can never be together. But in his gaze another message rings truer, the lock of our eyes pulling our two hearts together.

When I think of the invisible force that ties us together, I know he’ll come.

I hear footsteps, heavy and hard, coming fast. It’s him. It has to be him. I sit up straighter, too scared to stand, and I crane my neck toward the direction of the sound.

A man comes dashing around the corner; I recognize his face in an instant. Strong, dark brows set over dark, flashing eyes, the kind that suck you in and make you stare. An intense gaze that always makes you look away first. A dark shadow of a beard covering his chiseled jawline. A strong, straight nose carved by the Roman gods themselves and lips so perfect, even grandmothers have been known to stare.

His dark hair, as always, is standing on end, sexily disheveled from his hand running absently through it. His flashing eyes lock on mine, sending a wave of emotions through me, but one emotion rises above the other.

Need.

I need him.

“It’s you!” My voice cracks with relief as I call out the words. I reach for him with trembling hands.

“It’s me.” He gathers me in his arms, smelling of earth and man. He holds me tight, letting go only long enough to study my face. He cups my cheeks in his cold hands, his dark stare demanding. “You’re alright? Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. I really am.” I bring my hands to his. “Where is she?”

“Gone. Not here.” His voice lowers to a threatening promise, his eyes glinting with the promise of revenge. “But I’ll find her.”

His gaze holds mine, his hands growing warm against my face. We sit like that, my hands over his, our eyes locked. My breath comes faster just from having him so close like this.

He brings his face to mine, his lips just a beat away. “I had to find you first.”

My eyes flutter closed, my lips parting, wanting so badly for him to kiss me. Please. Kiss me. For once, I get my wish. He presses his lips against mine.

I’m transported from this dank prison.

I’m floating.

My head feels light as a warm, euphoric glow starts there, emanating through my entire body. He came for me. His kiss grows, his tongue parting my lips, demanding entrance.

His hands slide from my face, caressing my neck. Another one of his possessive moves that makes my knees go weak. He cups my neck in his hands, the pad of his thumb stroking under my chin as he kisses me.

He pulls away only long enough to whisper, “You’re mine.”

And I am.

I wind my hands in his hair and pull him closer as though I can hold onto him forever and not let him go this time. We’ve kissed before, but this kiss is different. Something enormous between us shifts, a new dynamic forming, willing us to be together.

His hands find the buttons that dot the front of my dress. He tugs at them, never breaking our kiss. I feel the top half of the dress part and fall open, the cool air caressing my skin with its own kiss.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs into my mouth. His hand slips inside my bra, claiming my breast. “All of you.”

I grasp his hand, holding it closer to my chest, closer to my heart. “Yes. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours,” I whisper to him, but my body roars.

A fire’s ignited in my belly, the thick flames whipping out and licking wherever they can reach. My sex heats with a greedy need. He breaks our kiss to shrug his leather jacket off his broad shoulders , laying it on the damp ground.

Then he takes me back in his arms, kissing me as he lays me down on the bed he’s made us. I’d pictured my first time lying amongst feather-filled cotton, a beautiful four-poster bed in an elegant room, not with my back pressed against a cold dungeon floor with only a layer of leather beneath me.

Our family has forbidden this moment.

But this — this thing — that’s growing between us and bringing a life of its own, this twisting, tightening tornado of passion. It can’t be stopped. How could it?

I dreamt of what this would feel like. I imagined it. But now that it’s real, thrumming and beating like it’s got its own heart, it makes all my past imaginings seem like black and white sketches of reality.

He’s pushing my dress away, shoving the material over my hips as his kisses grow needier. His fingers find me, stroking me over my panties and the moment becomes technicolor, every one of my senses seeming to grow more sensitive. The sound of his breathing becomes my own. An inhalation of his skin perfumes my existence, making me want to always have access to his scent. His touches, they seem to burn into my mind as they set fire to my soul, and I know I’ll never forget this moment.

His lips leave mine for the span of a breath, his eyes meeting mine. In that one look, I know what’s he trying to communicate—there’s no going back now.

I don’t want to go back. I want only him.

He kneels in front of me, his gaze heavy on my face as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. He pulls it up and over his head, exposing the curved lines that define his taut torso, the smooth plane of his tanned chest, the muscles that roll between his shoulders and his neck. I want my naked flesh pressed against his warmth, his strength.

He flinches as he moves.

“Are you hurt?” I reach out, running my fingers over the freshly forming bruises rising on his skin.

“I am now.” He rolls his shirt up, slipping it under my head like a pillow, protecting me from the hard ground. “It’s no bed, but it’ll have to do. I can’t wait another minute.”

“Neither can I.”

He flashes me a wicked grin, the one that probably drew hundreds of girls into his bed, but now, I know it’s only for me. He finds the waistband of my panties, tugging the material over my hips, down my legs, over my feet, and tosses them to the side.

My knees bent, I close my legs as if to protect the modesty I’m so eager to be rid of. He grabs my knees, parting them, taking me in with such hunger, my face heats with shame. His hands run up the backs of my bare thighs, his skin brushing against mine, and before I have time to close my eyes, he’s between my thighs, his tongue lashing my sex.

I cry out, my hands winding their way into his hair, holding onto him like an anchor as his mouth against me threatens to send me into another world. A tight, heady cord of tension builds in my core with every caress of his wet tongue, threatening to tie so tight it’ll snap me in two and break me. But when the orgasm comes, powerful and shuddering, it doesn’t break me.

It tears through me, changing me, making me brave enough to finally take what I want. I’m filled with need, my thoughts of nothing but the absolute need to have this man inside of me. My fingers scratch at his bare back. “Please.”

He comes to me, kissing me, marking my mouth with traces of my own sex. This time, I feel no shame. Instead, I hungrily kiss him back, tasting. I slip my hands over his shoulders, feeling the strong muscles there as he frees himself from his clothing, all the while still kissing me.

He pauses for the beat of a moment, a low groan passing from his lips to mine and I feel it—his sex against mine for the first time. Our eyes meet. He cups my chin, holding my gaze, not wanting me to look away from him.

“I want to see you.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip. To be so exposed like this, to have your soul bared to another human like this…I don’t look away.

He presses against me, fighting his way past my tight entrance. I didn’t know it would feel like this. My skin is burning and there’s pain. He’s so big and it seems my body wasn’t built to let him in.

I whimper, suddenly scared, but he shushes me, brushing his thumb over my worried lips. “I’ve got you.”

He moves gently but unrelentingly, fighting for every inch of me. My legs spread further, my hips loosening as I let him in. My body knows what to do, warming and stretching and finally, I’m filled with the full length of his hardness.

He holds me there a moment, letting me feel him inside of me, the whole time making me keep my eyes locked with his. He smooths the hair back from my face. “Ready?”

Am I?