A Sinless Betrayal, Cherie Benjamin [story books to read .txt] 📗

you for not even a month. Yet you're claiming me as your forever mate, your…your claimed mate and you didn't even tell me?"

When I turn around to stare at him, I find that his features are solid and unmoving and that he is cold. "You are mine," he hisses right back at me. "Remember taka? You even said it yourself, little one."

"How am I yours when you don't even love me?" I ask him, my voice level raising an octave. "You only care about fucking me."

He looks at me like I've just grown another set of eyes on my forehead. "No," he manages to spit out. "Not true!"

I tug at the ends of my hair in exasperation. "Yes, it is true. I guarantee that once you fucked me you'd be done with me and leave me for the others. I'm just a challenge." Tears stung in my eyes because I know it's true. "I'm just a toy and you're a child that will play with me while I'm interesting and new, but once I'm used you'll just throw me away."

"Never," he hisses. "I'd never."

I don't listen to him. "No, that's just how you are."

"Then why'd I make that speech, huh? If I didn't want you for the rest of my life, why did I claim you?" His voice is louder than mine and cuts me off during mid-rant. His bulky arms encircle me, picking me up off of my feet as he carries me over to the bed. I struggle, but I'm pitifully weak against his strong hold on me.

He throws me down on the bed, pinning my arms above my head and rolling his hips onto me. I gasp. "Let me up, Abigor!"

He just stares down at me with dark, black eyes. His hair spills over his shoulders and frames my face like a curtain. All I can see is him; I'm trapped, his eyes scanning me like a predator does its prey. "No," he replies thickly, confident and tough. "I don't t'ink you realize the extent of my want, my need for you."

He ducks his head down and kisses me softly on the side of my neck. I try to pull myself away from him but he keeps me right where I am. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses over my collarbone, one hand keeping my own hands pinned to the bed and one hand resting on the side of my stomach.

"I don't understand it," I explain to him. "I don't understand what a claimed mate is." Even though I had just heard the explanation from Cassandra, I want to hear it from his mouth.

He stares at me from under his thick black lashes. "Means that you are mine for all eternity. I chose you because you are different from the rest. I told you that I'd wait for you. I've never done that for any woman before. I take them, and like you said, I throw them away like a child does a toy. But not you, never you. And I never knew why I felt like 'dis towards you 'till I went an' asked the elders and they tol' me that it was, in fact, somethin' different."

He lets me pull one of my hands out of his grasp to reach up and trace my fingertips over the contoured lines of his prominent cheekbones. He leans his face into my palm. "I'm glad it was you," I tell him. He looks a little confused, so I go into more depth. "I mean, I wouldn't want to have been kidnapped or held hostage by anyone else."

He chuckles, the ends of his lips slowly stretching into a smile as sweet and soft as the springtime. "That's good. I couldn't ask for a better prisoner."

Abigor rolls off of me and onto the bed beside me, laying his palms flat across his muscled abdomen. "How we always end up like this, huh? Mad and then okay. I can't ever stay angry wit' you. Dunno why."

I prop myself up on my elbow. "Yana da ... saboda ... um, ni mai kyau." (It is…because…um, I am good.)

He looks at me astonishment before breaking into a smile. "How did you learn so quickly?"

I lean my cheek against my palm. "It's called, a lot of free time in Abigor's room with books."

"You want to learn," he states. "That's something different."

"Yes," I agree. "While I've got nothing else better to do while you lock me away in my tower for hours, I snoop and read your books."

He doesn't at all seem bothered by the fact that I go through his books while he's away talking about the raids with his men. "You like to read?" he questions.

I nod my head. "Yes," I say again. "I've always loved reading."

"Book," he says in a gruff voice. "Liffatin. Can you repeat that back to me?"

"Liffatin," I repeat. "That's a beautiful word. You know, back in my kingdom there was a little shop called a library and it harboured many, many books. Some were sad, some were happy, some were full of action and tales of courageous princes and princesses, fictional tales of fire-breathing dragons and faeries and demons. A book is where imagination takes flight."

He seems interested in what I have to say. "They are kept at…library?" he questions. I nod my head. He looks back up at the ceiling. "Don't have no library. But I got books. Parchment scrolls."

I curl up into a ball on Abigor's bed, nestling my head against the soft pillows whilst he stretches out like a young lion in tall, dry grass. "Interesting."

0o0o0o0o

I've not yet finished my dinner. He's lying in bed waiting for me to join him there. I can't help but think that he feels more love than he's actually shown me. I'd never been shown such gentleness from a man back in my kingdom—and the ironic thing about Abigor was that he was the king of the barbarians. And gentle was the exact opposite of a barbarian…supposedly.

"I want to be your teacher," he says. I turn around and face him, mindlessly chewing on a piece of chicken. He narrows his eyes slightly. "I want to be the one to show you. I want to show you how to touch a man properly."

I glance at him. "And when did you lose your virtue?"

He pauses before answering. "Twelve."

I choke on the wine gliding smoothly down my throat. "Twelve? And how old was the whore?"

Abigor starts to smile a wickedly mischievous smile. "Anna was 27 at the time." The look of disgust on my face makes him throw his head back onto his pillow and laugh a great, loud, hearty laugh. My eyes pop with amusement. "But on a more serious note, you're a complete budurwa; virgin even to your own pleasure."

I shake my head and try to explain. "Where I am from, women and girls are not taught of their pleasures until they are married. The pleasure was forbidden, especially for women. If a young girl was caught doing away with herself, she'd be beaten."

The look of repulsion on his face tells me that he obviously does not agree with the rules back in my kingdom. "Your people act like pleasure is a sin."

I nod my head. "Oh, but it is a sin."

He laughs, drumming his long fingers on the wooden bedpost. "Then I have sinned, and sinned, and I will continue to sin." Abigor looks at me to see my expression, to tell what I am thinking. My face is tinged red with a soft blush that has crept up on me when I was least expecting it. "What? It's not like you don't know that I touch myself. I found myself to be doing it more often when you tease me like this."

I turn away from, trying to swallow the thick lump in my throat. He sits up from his lounging position against the downy silk pillows and moves to sit beside me. "Does this make me less appealing to you, Tiger Claw?" he asks, brushing a wisp of chestnut hair behind my ear. "Does the thought of blood, and sex, and sin repulse you?"

When his warm hand comes down on my bare knee, I pick it up and cradle it in my lap. I absently looked down at it, chewing my lip in thought. "No," is my conclusion. I glance up at him and I find that he appears to be a little relieved. "A man without blood and sin on his hands is a man that has not lived."

He slips a finger under my chin and turns my face towards his slowly. His eyes are full of passion and want. But beneath the tough and possessive demeanour, he's so much more. He's sweet, caring, and all he wants is someone to stand by his side- and the person he wants is apparently me.

So when he kisses me, I do not pull away or resist him in any manner. It pleases him. He swipes his tongue across my bottom lip before smacking one more kiss, sealing the deal, before leaning back against the bed. "I'll always wait for you...no matter how long it may take. But I doubt you'll be able to stay away from my charm."

"Well, I…"

"You can't resist me forever, Elizabella," he tells me, his eyes locked on the ceiling. "This level of lust for someone has crossed the line between bearable and unbearable. Between resistant and irresistible."

I blink my eyes stupidly at him. He pats the place beside him. "Come," he orders. "And sleep."

0o0o0o0o

I wake up in the middle of the night, a cold gust of air hitting my naked back. The back of my nightgown must have been unlaced somehow. I sit up in bed slowly, making sure not to wake him up.

Except for the fact that he was not there beside me.

I don't quite know why, but my heart begins to race, and my eyes search for him frantically in the dark. Where would he be in the middle of the night? Does he leave all of the time?

I push the covers off of me and slide out of the bed. The fire is nearly dead, but I can still see around in the room. Abigor is not in the room. The door is cracked open slightly, but the hallway is pitch black. Where could he have gone?

I grab one of the scented wax candles off of Abigor's jewel table and bring it to the dying fire. I thrust it into the embers, trying to get it to light. But the fire's bright glow sinks into the logs before a spark can touch the tip of the candle. "No!" I hiss softly in the night.

Before I know it, I'm surrounded by darkness. I sigh somewhat loudly, my great whoosh of breath coming down onto the tip of the candle and igniting a nearly-dead spark that has graced me with its presence.

I hold it up into the night. It flickers and sways on the tip of the candle, duly illuminating areas around it. It is better than nothing. I make my way to the door, careful not to trip over anything and make a loud ruckus.

The door creaks when I push it open. I clench my eyes shut and sigh; any loud noises could give me away. Once the door is pushed wide enough open for me to slip out of it, I dart down the darkened hallway.

I turn a corner, my bare feet slapping gently against the cold stone floors. And finally, at the end of a long, empty hallway, I see a door cracked open with a great firelight emitting from it. I walk slowly. I still do not know if he is there, or if he is alone and wanting my company.

I'm at the door. Both my mind and heart are racing, my hand shaking as it reaches out to push the wooden door. He is laying on the couch by a great stone fireplace. My eyes widen at the sight of books and books lined