13 comments/ 64159 views/ 55 favorites Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 01 By: silver_firefly AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is told in third person limited, as opposed to first person, mainly because I wanted to challenge myself to write using a point of view that I am not used to. I could only hope that it is not a very great disaster (heehee... xD). All forms of critique are welcome. ^_^ Chapter 02: Courting Daphne The air was reeking with the smell of death, and cries of children who newly lost their parents could be heard from the surrounding villages, given of course that there were still inhabitants on the surrounding vicinity. Wherever the eye looked, there were sights of hell to behold: houses burning, young boys dragging corpses to a single pile, young girls being dragged to wagons of slave-drivers. What held Daphne's attention, though, was a scene taking place under a tree near the only well on their land. Three warriors were busily taking care of one of the village maids. Alicia, if she remembered the name correctly. She was a very fine-looking woman, about twenty or twenty-one. Right now, Alicia's hands were being tied behind her. Fat tears rolled down her face as she once more cried out for the men to stop or for somebody to help her. One of the men struck her face, drawing blood out of her nose. Another ripped off her dress, and gagged her with a piece of the torn cloth. Alicia looked desperate, but no amount of her struggling would ever be successful, for the men who held her were seasoned warriors serving the general who attacked their village. The three of them laughed and cheered at the sight of the distraught woman. One of them ran his palms on the smooth, creamy breasts now exposed to their eyes; Alicia let out a cry muffled by the gag on her mouth. As Daphne looked on, one of the men took off his pants, and out dangled his erect member. Alicia's eyes widened as she saw it, too, and the woman struggled harder to get away from her captors. But two men were still restraining her, and there was nothing she could do as the first man spread her legs wide and licked her sex. At that point, Daphne looked away. She could not watch anymore. She knew what was happening as she heard Alicia's muffled screams and the men's raucous laughter. 'It will happen to all of us,' she thought as she closed her eyes, trying to control her fear from taking over. Just a few minutes ago, Alicia had been sitting beside Daphne, with hands and feet tied just like everybody else's. One of the three men spotted the fair Alicia and grabbed her while calling to two of his companions. After a while, Daphne could not hear Alicia's muffled screams anymore. She looked back at the scene of the crime. The first man was now one of the two who held Alicia, while a second man was driving his cock in and out of the woman's body. Alicia's tears were still flowing from her eyes, but she has stopped struggling. She was only looking to where Daphne and the other young women were tied up, her eyes two mirrors of pain and humiliation. All around her, the other women were already starting to cry, but Daphne's eyes remained dry. She watched as the second man finished with Alicia and the third man took his turn. A fourth soldier saw what his companions were doing and cheered them on while he himself grabbed a woman with the intention of satisfying his lust. One by one, soldiers came pouring from every direction, picking up women from the bunch where Daphne belonged. Each time a soldier approached, Daphne prayed that he would not choose her, and each time somebody walked past her, she offered a prayer of gratitude that she was inside a house when it started to burn, thus causing soot to cover her whole body. Yet, a drunk soldier stopped in front of her and looked her up and down, grinning at what he saw. He grabbed her roughly so that she stood on her feet, running his hands down Daphne's arms. "Ye look as black as coal with the soot covering ye like this, but trained eyes do not fail to see the great body beneath this filth," he murmured, grinning at her lewdly. "I daresay ye will grace my bed tonight." Daphne shook her head, shaking with fear. The last thing she wanted was to involve herself with a man such as this. But she knew she had no chance of fighting; she was at his mercy. The man started caressing her body, when the sound of a horn was heard, and men in horseback came thundering down where soldiers and women captives were. To Daphne's gratefulness, one of the horsemen struck the drunk warrior's head with his foot, thus rendering the man unconscious. Her eyes followed the man who saved her. He and the other horsemen stopped in the middle of the clearing, and at the sight of them, the soldiers stopped their lustful preoccupations and stood at attention. The man took off his helmet to reveal a raggedly handsome face topped with long, black mane. His blue eyes wandered from soldier to soldier, and narrowed when he guessed what had been going on. Daphne's blood turned cold when she saw his face. That, his great black horse, and his black armour told her that the man who saved her was none other than General Leander Van Halen, the man who led the army of soldiers who destroyed their village. These soldiers who violated the women were his men. "We are moving," he said in a loud voice. "Take the women and bring them to where the wagons are. We do not want to spend the night amidst rotting corpses." With that, he urged his horse to turn back to where they came from. His eyes found Daphne as he did so. Daphne stared as the general sent his horse walking towards her. "Soldier, untie her," Leander Van Halen ordered one of the men standing close, nodding to Daphne. "In fact, untie all the women." His order was followed, and when all the women were untied, he ordered the men to start their march. With swords and spears pointed at their backs, the women of the village had no choice but to march with them. Without awaiting orders, the other horsemen followed the marching band of foot soldiers and women, leaving the general and Daphne behind with only the fallen drunk soldier and the pile of corpses as company. The general studied her as she stood trembling, looking at him with terrified eyes. Daphne did not know what to do. She wanted to run away from him, but she knew that she would not last long without company. Either she would fall on the hands of other men or she would die on the hands of other warriors. "I have nowhere to go," she found herself telling the man with him. The general dismounted from his horse. "I am not leaving you here." Daphne felt relieved, and looked at the unconscious soldier at her feet. Leander followed her gaze and spoke. "I do not need another drunkard in my ranks. As it is, there are already way too many." Daphne nodded, tearing her eyes off the soldier so that she could look at the general. Van Halen was looking at her intently, studying her soot-covered face with so much intensity that left Daphne feeling self-conscious. "You are beautiful," he said in wonder after a while, stepping close to Daphne, who stepped away instinctively, making the general grin in amusement. "You will be my companion when we arrived at the camp." Daphne nodded even though she did not know exactly what he meant. Having lived a sheltered life up until her aunt died about half a year ago, she knew almost nothing of the ways of the world. Without warning, Leander held her by the waist and swung her on to his warhorse, earning a terrified shriek from Daphne. He then joined her atop the horse, sitting behind her and winding an arm around her waist while the other sought the reins. "What is your name, woman?" he asked as he urged the horse to start moving. Daphne swallowed, feeling as if her heart had already jumped up to her throat. In spite of what she knew and what she thought she should feel, the warmth radiating from Leander's body was causing her to feel secured. All the fear she reined in earlier seemed to suddenly wrack her body, only to leave her shivering while the great general of the Army of the Black Wolves held her against his chest. Unfamiliar heat coursed through her body. She was acutely aware of his arm around her, resting just below her breasts. His masculine scent reached her senses, causing strange reactions on her body. "Daphne," she whispered in a slightly trembling voice. "Daphne." The sound of his voice pronouncing her name floated like music to her ears. "A beautiful name." She closed her eyes, now growing more afraid of and mad at her feelings than at the man who took her. She felt his thumb gently stroking the side of her breast, and Daphne had to bite her lips in order not to moan aloud. As if knowing what was happening, Leander moved his hand over to Daphne's breast and began stroking it. Her nipple hardened under his touch, and a shaky sigh escaped her lips. Feeling helpless, Daphne leaned back against him, fearing the desire that spread through her body at that moment. She turned her head and looked at the general to find him looking at her. "Tonight, sweet Daphne," he promised in a whisper, smiling down at her. "Tonight." ***** The camp of Van Halen's army was a makeshift settlement in the valley to the north of Daphne's village. It surrounded a river, making it easier for the men and horses to survive. Together with the soldiers came several camp followers, whose only role in life seemed to provide sexual pleasure to high-ranked warriors, including the general himself. Daphne was given to two of those followers, who were ordered to bathe her and give her fresh clothes. Upon acting on these orders, the followers then led her to the tent of the general. The first thing that entered Daphne's mind when she saw the interior of the tent was that it was even more luxurious than the house she used to live in with her aunt. It had a bed, couches, and even a carpet set atop the grass. Everything that could be used to provide comfort to the general was brought into his tent. Knowing not what to do, Daphne curled up on a couch, grabbing the quilt to cover herself. The two women dressed her up in a dress that revealed way too much of her skin than she was comfortable exposing, and she did not want Leander to see her in it. She did not plan on dozing off, but the softness of the couch beneath her and the scent of the perfume around her almost immediately sent her to a dreamless sleep. Daphne only woke up when she felt strong arms gently lifting her up from the couch. Even without opening her eyes, she recognized who it was. It was not only because she was aware that nobody would dare enter the general's tent without permission, but also because she recognized his manly scent. Leander was already half-naked, as Daphne found out when she opened her eyes and looked up. He had lain her down on his bed. She could feel his eyes studying her, but right at that moment, all she could do was stare at his exposed body and marvel at it. Broad, powerful shoulders led down to well-muscled chest, which in turn led down to narrow hips. The light of the candles beside the bed lent a bronze cast on his skin, making some of his battle scars more apparent, some less so. Daphne swallowed. He radiated power, manliness, security...and she longed to be held by his arms. The force of her yearning struck her, and made her recoil in fear, if only within. She remembered the way the warriors had held Alicia, remembered the way they violated her, and she feared that this man would be as cruel as the others. Her heart was drumming wildly inside her chest, and Daphne had to take a deep breath in order to calm down. She could smell wine on his breath, driving her to greater panic as she remembered the man Leander struck down earlier. Did he rescue her in order to have her himself? Was he going to be like them, too? Was that what being his companion mean? At that moment, Leander spoke. "Daphne, look at me." She tried not to obey his command. She did not want to see the wild lust and hunger in his eyes. It would remind her of the warriors who took the innocence of more than one woman in her village. She would rather believe that the general was not one of them, than see the proof that he was. Yet his touch on her face had none of the violence she expected. It was a caress that sent her body shivering, her blood running hot through her veins. Desire struck her anew, driving her heartbeat wilder still. "Look at me, my sweet," Leander said again as he bent down and touched her forehead with his lips. "I won't hurt you, Daphne." In spite of what her head was saying, Daphne looked at Leander. He flashed her a gentle smile -- something that she had never seen from anybody since her aunt died. It melted her heart. "I won't hurt you," the general repeated, touching her lips. "Believe me." Even before she could take her next breath, his lips came down to capture hers in a slow, passionate kiss. Daphne felt his hands gently stroking her arms, his fingers tracing lines of fire through her skin. She did not know what to make of it, but she was certain she did not want him to stop. Slowly, Leander's lips left hers alone and journeyed to the rest of her face. His breathing was becoming ragged, as Daphne knew that hers was. His hands continued to explore her body, touching, caressing through the flimsy dress she was wearing. She did not know how to respond to his advances, so Daphne ended up clutching the sheets of the bed. She was afraid to touch him -- this powerful god who brought war to her village and left it in ruins. She closed her eyes. Leander's lips have now travelled close to her ears, and he was gently licking her earlobe. A gasp escaped her lips when she felt that first contact. Upon hearing that sound, Leander groaned, his hands and lips travelling lower down Daphne's body. Leander began kissing her neck, licking her smooth skin from time to time, gently biting when he could not get enough of her. Daphne moaned, unfamiliar with the sensations that assaulted her body. She tilted her head in order to give the man better access to her neck, while his hands started caressing her breasts, playing with her hard nipples through the fabric of her dress. Daphne was starting to panic even as her body melted with desire. She knew that what she was feeling was wrong. She knew that what Leander was doing was something that only a husband should do to his wife. Everything that was going on was not right. "Touch me, Daphne," came Leander's hoarse whisper as he pulled up the hem of Daphne's dress. He took her hand and guided it first to his lips, looking straight into Daphne's eyes. Her hands trembled as she touched his lips, his face, his hair. The colours of their skin contrasted under the candlelight: his was darkened by the sun, hers was still white as milk. Daphne let her hands travel down to Leander's neck, fascinated by the touch of his body. He was all hard muscles; she was all soft curves. She had never touched a man's body and the newness of the experience did not fail to mesmerize her. When her hands reached his chest, she paid careful attention to the scars that marred his skin. Some were small, but others were not. She let her fingers trace the lines of the particularly large ones, unable to imagine how deep the wounds that caused them were. And instead of making her recoil, those scars only served to make her more interested in exploring his body. As her hands moved to the side of Leander's body, intending to feel his back, the general bent down and nipped at the side of Daphne's neck. She shivered in response, closing her eyes when she felt the hem of her dress being pushed higher and higher up her body, until the skin from her chest downwards was revealed. Leander moved his head downwards and captured one of her nipples in his mouth, gently licking the tip, teasing it more. Daphne moaned, arching her body towards him. Her hands found his hair and tugged gently. Her head was telling her to stop Leander, but her whole body was delighted at his attentions, and she felt helpless against the force of her desire. More whimpers and moans escaped her lips as Leander lightly bit her nipple, while his hand pinched the other, rolling it between his fingers. Daphne felt as if her blood turned to liquid fire, making a pool at her crotch, making her cunt ache. It was almost a relief when she felt Leander's hand caressing her down there, parting her lips as he sought her clit. "God..." Daphne groaned, unable to resist as Leander parted her legs to give himself more access to her pearl. When he found the nub of her pleasure and began stroking it, Daphne let out a cry and hooked her legs around his waist. A groan sounded deep in his chest, conveying the immense pleasure that the young woman's move gave him. To reward her, he moved lower down her body and began licking at her folds, paying close attention to her swollen clit. Daphne cried out, but whether it was from shame or pleasure, she was not sure. She knew she was not supposed to let him do this to her, but her body was loving everything he did, and her will to stop him was too weak to win. She felt one of his fingers slowly circling the entryway of her sex as he began gently sucking on her clit. Daphne released his hair and instead opted to clutch as the sheets, for she knew she would end up hurting him if he continued what he was doing. Leander continued to lick at her folds, his saliva mixing with the juices that came freely flowing out of Daphne's sex. Taking his time, he slid his finger into her hole, her juices making it an easy feat. Daphne bit her lower lip and closed her eyes tightly, praying to whatever god was listening that she would find the strength to resist Leander's advances soon, before she gives up all that she has to a man she barely knew. But given the way that her body was responding, it seemed to her that her prayer would be left unheard. As Daphne felt a bit of pain inside her where Leander's finger was, Leander stopped the invasion and moaned, causing sweet sensations to flow from where his mouth met with her mound. In no time at all, she was writhing beneath him as a sweet, deep pleasure took over her whole body and left her breathless in its wake. "My sweet Daphne," groaned Leander as he looked up at her. "I was hoping you're still untouched." She blushed. There had been men who attempted to claim her innocence, but Daphne had always seemed to be under the protection of the heavens -- until the moment the Army of the Black Wolves descended upon their village and destroyed everything she loved. The memory of that painful moment seemed to become what she needed to extinguish the fire of desire from her body. At the thought of the horror the troops of Leander Van Halen left behind, Daphne felt as if icy cold water was thrown over her, so that when Leander moved over her and began kissing her mouth, she was able to say no. Leander froze when he heard her. "What?" "I said no," Daphne whispered, turning her head away from him and refusing to look straight into his eyes. "Just stop." The general growled his displeasure and disappointment, but made her face him so that he could kiss her mouth again. Daphne could taste herself in his lips, taste the salty sweet essence of her sex as his tongue darted into her mouth. She felt his manhood pressing against her stomach, sending her to panic. God, she did not want him to do to her what the soldiers had done to Alicia! She heard the woman's muffled screams, saw the way Leander's warriors violated her, saw the blood that oozed from between Alicia's thighs. No, she did not want to suffer that kind of humiliation and feel that kind of pain. No... "Stop it!" she wailed, pushing as hard as she could against his chest just as Leander was starting to kiss her down the neck again. "Get off me!" Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 01 Stunned, the general looked at her. Daphne shook her head, holding back tears as she returned his gaze. She was afraid, so very afraid. As she witnessed the swirl of emotions in his blue eyes -- from surprise to disbelief, to anger, to coldness -- Daphne wished for the first time that she decided not to go with him earlier that day. She wished that she had just run away from him, or died trying to. In a rush of thoughts and confused emotions, Daphne realized that Leander had been nothing but kind to her from the moment he saved her from that drunk soldier, and even to the moment she reached the very first orgasm of her life. Still, she could not get her mind off the fact that it was because of him, of his troops, that the village she had come to love now lay useless and barren somewhere behind her. "I'm sorry," she offered, shaking her head as she tried to get up from under him. "You should be," he said in a cold voice, all emotions restrained as he grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her back to bed. As her head hit the pillow where it had rested, Daphne's heart beat furiously inside her chest. Her eyes widened as she looked at the face of the man who just moments ago introduced her to the kind of pleasure that a woman could experience with a man. She could not see any trace of that man anymore, but recognized the enraged face of the general who brought hell to every village he ever attacked. Before he could do anything to her, however, hurrying footsteps approached the tent, and a voice called from outside. "General!" spoke the newcomer. "The scout has arrived, and he brings news that is of great importance." Leander glared at Daphne for a very long time, as if it was her fault that the soldier came. Daphne held her breath, afraid that he would strike her. As if knowing what was going on inside her head, Leander's glare became fiercer, before he moved off her and grabbed a coat. In spite of herself, Daphne found herself watching his crotch. The huge bulge in his pants subsided slowly as the general began dressing. Daphne became conscious of herself, for she was still uncovered from chest to toe. She immediately pulled the hem of her dress down. As she watched him dress, Daphne started formulating plans of escape inside her head. Perhaps, with the general gone, she would be able to get past the guards. There were only two guards at the mouth of his tent, anyway; she could look for another way out. "Don't even think about it." Leander's voice startled her. He was frowning at her as he stood fully dressed and armoured by the entrance to the tent. She wondered how he could have known what was going through her mind, if indeed that was what he was pertaining to... The general opened the flap and spoke to the guards without looking away from Daphne. "Guard this tent well. For every escape attempt that Daphne tries, bring down a woman from her village and kill that woman as she watches." With that, he left, leaving Daphne pale and shaking on his bed. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 02 AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for the very kind comments on the first installment of this story! Amidst the mess that is my life, I was able to find time to write this one very quickly (although -- alas! -- not before I had done three whole-story revisions! Daphne's very short story proves to be quite difficult to write down.. xD). Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed revising it to this final version! ^_^ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The light of the candle beside the bed began to flicker, creating strange shadows in the interior of Leander Van Halen's tent. The candle was almost out, and the flame that consumed it seemed to do its final dance -- vigorous, full of life: a victory dance as it melted away the wax, mocking the prisoner that freely paced back and forth at the foot of the bed. Daphne tried to calm herself -- just enough to think clearly. She needed to get out of here, to escape from the general who showed her what pleasure is and then threatened to show her pain. But how would she do it? General Van Halen ordered the guards outside to guard the tent well and to kill a woman from her village for every escape attempt that Daphne would do. 'Perhaps...' she thought, as she once again sat on the edge of the bed, 'perhaps I should stay.' At least, here, Daphne knew she was safe. Nobody would dare enter the tent of Leander Van Halen without permission from the general. Nobody would harm her, knowing that she was under Van Halen's protection. But, what about the general? Would he really protect her? Would he not hurt her? Daphne did not know. She did not want to trust him, believing that he only whispered promises of not hurting her to convince her to give up her virginity to him. He would be as brutal as the men who had taken the women from her village. He would force her to give herself to him and then throw her away when he had finished with her, or else share her with the other soldiers in his camp. At that thought, Daphne shivered. No, she did not want to be a common whore. Her dignity was all that she had left; she could not let it crumble at the face of this predicament. She looked at the candle when the vigorous dance once again started. Daphne hated the dark, but she knew very well that the guards would think she was trying to escape if she made a move to the entrance of the tent, and no amount of explanation would make them understand. Feeling defeated, Daphne crawled to the bed, covering herself with the blanket just as the light finally died out. As darkness embraced her, Daphne hugged her knees to her chest. She closed her eyes, praying for sleep, but instead, memories of the past few hours crept into her mind. Daphne moaned as she remembered the way Leander had held her as they were travelling to the camp, the way he teased her by stroking her breast, promising her more pleasure tonight. Tonight! Daphne balled up, burying her face on her knees. Leander stayed true to his words. He showed her pleasure like she had never known before. Even now, Daphne could feel his hands stroking her body, warming her in an odd way. She could feel his mouth, hot and wet, trailing across her skin, sending tingles down her spine, sending fire through her blood stream, concentrating on her crotch, building and building... Hot tears flowed from Daphne's eyes as she caught herself thinking back on that brief episode earlier. Why was her body reacting even to the memories of his touch, of his kiss? Even without touching it, Daphne knew that she was already wet -- down there where Leander had used his mouth and finger to tease her to an orgasm. Frustrated at herself, Daphne tossed around on the bed, for once grateful that her only companion was darkness. It irked her to realize that she longed for his touch, for the pleasure he could give. She wiped her tears away angrily. 'How could you?' she chided herself. 'How could you, how could you, how could you? Enjoy his touch? Long for it? Wish that you never stopped him? What is wrong with you?' Restless, she sat up on the bed, tears of frustration once stinging her eyes. Daphne bit at her lower lip, drawing blood, in order to drive away those tears. "Stupid, stupid girl!" she whispered, covering her face with her hands. "Why? How?" As she sat there, she could not deny the ache she was feeling on her cunt. She gingerly touched it, quickly drawing back her hand when she felt her own wetness. He caused this -- thoughts of him caused this. Daphne's face burned in shame. With a shaky sigh, she dropped herself to bed again, staring up and seeing nothing but darkness. She was convinced that she was losing her mind, telling herself that she could not want him -- not this way. She was not allowed to. He was the general who destroyed everything that she loved, took away everything that she had; she could not give in to her own desire for him. With this conviction in mind, Daphne closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to steady her nerves. She would deny herself, and in doing so deny him. She would resist him until he gets tired of seducing her, until he lets her go. Sounds of horses' hooves came close to the tent. Daphne's eyes flew open. 'No, don't come back,' she prayed. 'Not right now. Not when I am feeling like this. Please, no...' But she heard his voice outside, talking quietly to the guards, asking if she attempted to escape. No, they answered; Daphne had been a good girl. She was inside the tent, perhaps already sleeping. Leander thanked them and dismiss them for the night. Daphne closed her eyes when she heard the rustle as the flap of the tent was moved aside. the mere knowledge that he was already back made her body tingle with anticipation. Daphne cursed herself; she should not react like this. She heard him moving around the tent, perhaps searching for something. Daphne slightly opened an eye when she heard a match being lit. Sure enough, Leander was lighting a candle, for Daphne saw flickering light after a while. She closed her eyes again when she heard his footsteps nearing her side of the bed, for there was where he would put the candle. Daphne felt the back of his hand gently caressing her cheek, and she gently congratulated herself when she did not shiver. A few moments later, she heard the chink of his armour as it was removed. Daphne's breath caught in her throat. Was he undressing? Would he slip beside her naked? To her frustration, the ache in her cunt started again, this time more intense. The bed moved as Leander slipped beside her, and Daphne was glad that she was lying with her back on him. She did not want to be tempted to open her eyes just to check if he was naked. However, she was unprepared when Leander brushed her locks away from her neck and kissed it. An electric shock seemed to travel from her head to toe. Just the touch of his lips on her skin sent her juices flowing. Daphne wanted to hit herself for all the reactions she was showing. And as if to add insult to injury, Leander gently licked at her exposed skin. "I hope it was me you were thinking about," he whispered on her ear as one of his hands gently squeezed Daphne's breast. 'What?' her mind screamed. 'How did he know?' As answer to her silent question, Leander continued, "No sleeping woman ever gets excited by a mere brush of her cheeks." He pinched her nipples. "Your little buds here reveal more than you thought they do." Leander moved closer, kissing her neck again as his hand moved from her breast to her pussy. He groaned when he felt her wetness. "Turn around and face me, Daphne," he whispered. "You cannot deny your own arousal. It was me you were thinking about, wasn't it, my sweet?" Daphne was too afraid to move, too embarrassed to speak. She only cursed herself in her head, saying over and over that this could not be -- must not be. "I said turn around and face me." Leander's tone had somewhat sharpened, alarming her. She slowly turned to face him, and had barely time to register his nakedness before his mouth was assaulting hers, his tongue demanding entrance. Daphne parted her lips to grant it. Unprepared for the desire that swept through her body as a result of that kiss, she groaned. The general moved on top of her, pinning her down on the bed. He continued his ravaging kiss while a hand caressed her breast as the other explored her sex. Coated with her juices, his fingers started teasing her bud of pleasure. Every stroke sent Daphne closer and closer to that peak she reached only one time before, but before she could reach it again, Leander would stop, waiting for her pleasure to subside temporarily before teasing her again. "My sweet little Daphne," Leander groaned as he started licking her earlobe. Daphne groaned upon hearing her name tumbling from his lips. She reached for him, revelling at the touch of his body. She tilted her head in order to give him better access to her smooth neck. At that moment, the logical, resisting part of her brain kicked in. Would she really give in to his seduction? Was she willing to lose everything? No. No, no, no. It was enough that Leander Van Halen had taken her village; she would keep her virtue, her dignity, to herself. She tried to pull away. This could not continue. She was not willing to be his whore. She was not ready to give him the last thing she had. She was not afraid of the pain anymore; she was only afraid of him -- of him taking everything away. "Please," she gasped, turning her head away when Leander tried to capture her mouth again. "Please, let me go. Let me go..." "I will not hurt you, Daphne, my love," Leander cooed, moving his mouth to Daphne's breasts. "I will never hurt you." She wanted to believe him, only because she wanted him. She wanted to taste the pleasure he would so willingly give. But she was not prepared for what that would require of her in return. She had to find a way out of here, away from this man. He would drive her to a place of bliss one moment, and then what? A lifetime of humiliation afterward? No, this could not go on. "Please, Leander, please..." she begged, her voice thick with the tears she dared not shed. Perhaps it was the sound of his name from her lips that made Leander stop what his hands were doing. "Daphne..." For a while, Daphne did not want to look at his face. She was too scared of what she would see there. She still had not forgotten how he had looked at her when she stopped him earlier. A part of her was screaming, begging for more of Leander's touch, begging for the highest form of pleasure that he could provide. She knew it was self-torture to deny herself that, but she was still afraid of giving in, of sharing that part of herself with anybody -- especially this man. "You want me, Daphne," Leander said softly, gently brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. He traced her lips with his fingers that were still coated with her own cream. "You want me, sweet one." Daphne shook her head, closing her eyes, trying to fight off the flaming desire that she still felt. The taste of herself on his fingers did not help her cause. "Look at me, Daphne," Leander coaxed, gently moving her head so that she could stare right into his eyes when she opens her eyes. "Open your eyes." It was futile to resist; she knew that. Daphne obeyed him, meeting his gaze, just to see the hunger projected in his eyes, the desire to make her his so apparent that it almost took her breath away. Could he really want her that much? "Do you really want me to let you go?" he asked. "Can you deny yourself the pleasure that awaits you here?" She swallowed, not really knowing what she was thinking anymore. Her body was aching for him, begging for him; only her mind was fighting his advances. What for again? She could not even remember as she looked into his eyes. "Daphne." Leander kissed her lips again, gently this time, as his hands started caressing her body again. "I'll strike a deal with you. Let me taste your sex one more time. After that, stop me before I take you. If you can do that, I promise to hold back my lust and let you go. I will release you and let everybody in the camp know that nobody is to touch you, that you are free to stay here as a free woman or leave anytime you so wish to." He waited until she has nodded before adding, "But if you fail, Daphne, you are mine. Forever. Do you understand?" Daphne closed her eyes, nodding again. It felt as though she had just struck a deal with the devil himself, but it was her only chance to be left alone by him. She knew he would torment her with his seduction until she gives in; this was her one shot at being rid of him. "I understand," she answered. "If I am able to resist you before you take me, I am free. If not, I am yours, forever." As Leander started kissing her mouth again, Daphne prayed to every god she has ever heard of, that this insane deal would end in her favour. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 03 Silence. It was hardly a usual companion of the night in the camp of General Leander Van Halen's Army of the Black Wolves. Usually, most of the general's men would drink raucously all night long, laughing and shouting as the others tried to sleep. More often than not, these drinking sessions would end with fights breaking out between men, and Leander would be called from his tent to settle the dispute. But not on nights like these, when the general ordered that his men get sleep for an upcoming march. During these rare nights, a man could walk through the camp without hearing any form of human noise. Until he walked close to the tents. Most likely, he would hear grunts, groans and whimpers as warriors spend the night with women -- either with female captives that the general gave away as prizes or with camp followers if the warrior was high enough in rank to be allowed their company. That night was one of such nights, when Van Halen ordered his men to start preparing for a march west. The scout he talked to earlier informed the general of army movement several miles away, heading to where the Black Wolves were camped. Leander thought it best to meet that army head-on than to wait for them to descend upon his men. So for the next three nights, his men were not allowed to drink in large groups, so that fights would not break out and disturb the sleep of other men. The general was opposed to sending sleep-deprived men to battle when they could afford to have some rest, hence, the prohibition. Not that Daphne knew any of these. It was her first night at the camp, and a very challenging one it was proving to be. 'What exactly did I sign up for?' she asked herself as she felt Leander's hands roaming over her body, caressing her through her thin, revealing night dress. 'First, a companion. And then... God! That deal!' The general had agreed to let her go -- if she could abide by the terms of their deal. Basically, all Daphne needed to do was stop him before he took her virginity, but only after he tasted her sex. If she could not do it, she would have to stay with him, or, as he phrased it, she would be his forever. Accepting that deal was not the most logical thing she ever did, Daphne knew. Her body was desperately aching for Leander's touch, and she was not sure if she could even tell him to stop when it mattered. It was easy the first time, having already reached her orgasm. It was also considerably easy the second time, when Leander was only showering her neck and face with kisses. But would she be able to stop him if he was in the middle of using both mouth and hand to bring her to orgasm? Just remembering how good it felt the first time made Daphne moan. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew that she wanted him -- wanted him to bring her to the peak of pleasure that she had never reached before. To have him inside her, to know how it feels when a man claims a woman, to know what it's like when one was not forced to do it. Only, her mind was not willing to let go of that one piece of herself that remained intact even after Leander's men destroyed everything she had. Her mind refused to see the good in her giving in when she knew how wrong it was. God, she should never have left home and hid with her aunt. She should never have stubbornly refused to get married two years ago, when she was seventeen. Then, maybe, she would have been married now, and it would be all right to give in to her desires, having a husband to fulfill it. But, would it be like this? Would she react this way to just any man? Deny as she would, she could not hide from the fact that the mere thought of Leander Van Halen exploring her body was enough to send her purring in pleasure. Leander Van Halen, general of the Army of the Black Wolves, most feared of the generals serving her king. The epitome of a god of war and destruction -- a god with silky black hair, ocean-blue eyes, and hands and lips that could drive a woman crazy with desire. "My Daphne," Leander groaned as he nuzzled at her neck. "I want you, very badly." Daphne moaned as Leander's mouth started travelling down to her breasts. He caught her nipple between his lips, slowly licking it with his tongue. Daphne clutched at the sheets, desperately praying that she would be able to hold on to the sanity she still had. Leander's palms were lightly touching the skin of her thighs, sending goose bumps throughout her body. The pleasure it brought! Daphne began squirming under him, arching her body so that he would touch her where she wanted him to. The strength of her desire was starting to take over her mind. Daphne fought desperately, if only inside her head. She would not give in, she would not give in, she would -- Oh god! Leander touched her cunt, although only momentarily. But it was enough to send Daphne aching for more. In spite of what her brain was telling her to do, Daphne parted her thighs and thrust her hips up, chasing his hand as it withdrew. Yet, Leander would not let her have her way; he planted both hands on the bed, further torturing Daphne by maintaining no contact on their lower bodies, leaving her shivering for his touch. Daphne growled in frustration even as Leander started sucking on her other nipple. Desperate to ease the persistent ache she was feeling, she moved one hand to touch herself. She had only a fleeting moment to touch her swollen clit when Leander's head snapped up and he glared at her, while his hand closed over her wrist and pulled it away from her mound. "You do not do my task for me, my love," Leander growled, grabbing her other wrist. He brought both of her hands up her head and used one hand to hold both wrists and restrain her. "I make the move and you lie down to enjoy it." A whimper escaped Daphne's throat as she closed her eyes. That was his plan, wasn't it? To make her ache for him so much that she would be relieved when he finally gave her what she wanted? So that when that happened she would be way too high in the ladder of pleasure that she would forget to stop him? Even with this knowledge, Daphne still felt helpless. What would she do? He knew exactly where her weakness was and he would use it against her. 'Dear gods, he knew that my body is dying for his touch,' she thought miserably. "Why don't you just give in, sweet one?" Leander whispered to her ear teasingly. "Let me take care of you. Let me have you, Daphne. I give you my word that you will have everything you desire. Everything." Everything she wanted? She only wanted to be desired, needed, and cherished for who she was -- the simple, somewhat ignorant Daphne who ran away from an arranged marriage to live peacefully with her aunt in the neighbouring kingdom. She wanted to decide for herself, to get away from the constraints of society, to forget the pressure put upon her shoulder by merely being born into her family. "Don't make this harder for yourself, Daphne," Leander was telling her. "I will take care of you. I will never let anybody or anything harm you." "Why?" she asked, already suspicious of his motives. "Because I had been looking for you for so long and I will not let you get away from me this time." She did not understand him, but she understood the language his hands and lips were speaking as they explored her body. Daphne closed her eyes. She remembered a time when all she knew of the desire men feel was equated to their desire for power, their desire for wealth, both kinds of which could be satisfied if they married somebody from the upper echelons of society -- somebody like her. Power and wealth. Her whole life revolved around those. She lived in a world devoid of love -- something that she only found when she was finally with her disinherited aunt. And now this. She was falling too hard, too fast into a dark abyss of passion. Again, something that was not present in the world she grew up in. Daphne did not know how to respond to it. Her body wanted her to let go, but her mind was undecided, even uncooperative most of the times. It was wrong to let a man hold her the way Leander did, and yet --! She felt as if she were falling into a well of nothingness. No love, no security. Only that burning desire to be claimed by a man, and that in itself was nothing for it did not feel right. Yet, what choice did she have? The man seducing her was somebody used only to victory. He would not accept defeat; he would not accept her refusal. He would claim her, body and soul, and leave her in ruins if it would come to that. A sudden inspiration came to Daphne. This did not have to be about her failure to stop him. This did not have to be about her losing something she did not want to part with. This could be about her finally getting a chance to control her life. It felt as if she at last came face to face with Liberty. Daphne relaxed in Leander's arms. She was through trying to resist what her body dictated. A defeat, perhaps, but also a chance to gain footing and seize victory. Letting go of all her inhibitions, she parted her lips to receive Leander's kiss. The sudden change in the way she responded to his advances momentarily surprised the general, but it was not long before he was taking full advantage of it. Daphne closed her eyes, savouring the sensations caused by his touch. The warmth of Leander's palms as they stroked her left her body on fire. She had never been taught this, but perhaps passion was something that burst forth with proper seduction meant to tease it out, even if it had been lying dormant inside you your whole life. Much to her chagrin and fascination, her whole being started begging for Leander's attentions. She wanted so much more; she wanted all of him. And although the idea of letting him take her was somewhat as repulsive as it was tempting, she told herself that she was doing this to get away. Let him take and take, and when the time was ripe, she would collect the price of her grudging consent. Just the thought of that gave Daphne something to hold on to. She would lose her virginity, perhaps, but she would gain much, much more from this. She began running her palms over Leander's body, remembering how it had felt the first time she touched it. She had been fascinated then, a child eager to explore. The fascination was not washed away even by her tide of reflections. His skin was so hot, as if he were on fire. Daphne wondered if it was his desire for her that caused it. His ragged breathing as he continued planting fleeting kisses over her body seemed to say that it was so. So did the erect manhood pressing against her thighs as it tried to get out of his breeches. His breeches. Daphne groaned. So, he did not fully undress, after all? Leander's mouth was now trailing over her lower abdomen, just above her crotch. From time to time, his tongue would touch her skin, and Daphne found herself moaning, spreading her legs further apart to encourage the general's explorations. A small gasp escaped her lips when finally Leander started tasting her sex. His tongue teased her clit as one of his fingers dipped into her dripping cunt. Leander groaned when he realized just how wet Daphne had become, and he rewarded her with more pleasure as he sucked on her bud. Daphne whimpered, her hand grasping Leander's hair as she tried to control the pleasure that was threatening to engulf her. The reluctant part of herself began to surface as she struggled, but she forced it down, convincing herself that her supposed cooperation would serve her more than her refusal to let Leander get what he wanted. Besides, she was greatly enjoying herself, anyway. The general continued to lick at her folds, almost but not quite bringing her to the peak she wanted to reach so badly. Daphne bit down her groan of frustration. At last, Leander moved on top of her, releasing his member from its confines as he whispered to her ear. "The deal is still on, Daphne." It took her a while to remember what deal he was referring to. Ah, yes: he promised to release her if she could stop him before he took her virginity. He had already tasted her; she could ask him to stop now. But would she? Dared she? When her body was practically shouting for him to claim her even as a part of her mind protested against it? Dared she, when she did not even know if she could trust his words? No. Daphne decided that she would let him think that he had succeeded in making her a subject to his will. She would hide and suppress her reluctant self until the time was ripe for her to make her move. Right now, she would just take avail of every good thing that came with her supposed cooperation -- and that included the physical pleasure he had promised. She wound her arms around his neck, burying her face on the crook of his neck as she whispered, "Just take me." The sound of her voice surprised her. It was filled with longing, with lust. Could she really be that powerless to resist temptation? Could she really want him that much? As much as it embarrassed her, it also served to further fuel her desire, so that when she felt Leander's fingers parting her nether lips in order to make it easier for his cock to find her hole, Daphne groaned in anticipation. "Say that you want me, Daphne," Leander said as he cupped the back of her head. "I need to hear it, my love." Daphne swallowed and did as she was told. "I want you." She closed her eyes, knowing that she did it partly to please him but mostly to express what she was really feeling. The tip of his cock continued to linger on the opening of her sex. Its closeness mocked her, tortured her. If he would take her, he better take her now, before she lost her mind and begged. The urge to ask him to take her was too much. Still, she resisted. The fact that she wanted this was already so very wrong. When this was all over, she would deal with the pain of shedding her dignity and acting as though she was a slave to lust. Right now, however... Daphne slipped her hand between their bodies. She had seen cocks of men earlier that day, but she had never touched any of them. How would it feel to have her fingers wrapped around it? Was it hard, smooth...? Leander moaned when he felt her tentative fingers touch the tip of his cock. Slowly, as if teasing him, Daphne stroked it with the tips of her fingers. If only not for the way she was holding her breath -- if only not for the look of extreme concentration on her face, Leander would conclude that she was really teasing him. But Daphne's face had the look of a child intent on exploring unknown grounds, somewhat afraid that a wrong move on her part would bring an end to her explorations. When finally satisfied with the way her fingers tentatively examined the tip, Daphne gently guided her hand downward to feel the shaft itself. She sucked in her breath when she realized how long it was. Leander started licking at her neck, growling as he did so. She did not understand why, but liquid heat swirled low in her stomach, making her cunt ache the more for need of his cock inside her. Still holding her breath, Daphne wrapped her fingers around the shaft poised at the entrance to her sex. Leander was sucking on the soft flesh of her neck, threatening to leave a mark there, but Daphne paid no attention to it as her fingers curled around his member. 'Oh god,' she thought when she felt its thickness. She could feel him throbbing on her palm. As if the cock itself had a life of its own. Suddenly, at the thought of that cock invading her private regions, Daphne started to think it foolish of her to play this game. How could Leander bury that shaft in her without making it hurt? Surely, it would? With the thought of that pain clearly in her mind, Daphne began to doubt her decision of using her body to gain Leander's trust and escape from him at the right time. As if sensing Daphne's growing hesitation, Leander pushed the tip of his member into her dripping hole. Daphne gasped, certain that it would hurt, but, amazingly, found that it did not, even though it felt somewhat uncomfortable. She moved her hand to check if the tip was really already in; it was. She let out a soft whimper, pressing her open mouth to Leander's shoulder. When Daphne's hand left his shaft, it was as if Leander knew that she was through exploring at the moment. His mouth sought her lips, his tongue invading her mouth, as he started pushing his cock into her. Daphne wriggled underneath him, trying to find a more comfortable position. She did not understand why Leander chuckled at her movement, but he lifted her hips so that he could enter her more easily, and Daphne was sort of grateful. She groaned when Leander started moving his hips back and forth, driving his shaft a bit deeper into her every time, until he encountered resistance. Daphne let out a gasp and clung on to Leander's body when she felt pain coming from where their bodies merged. "Shh," Leander soothed her, his voice taut as he tried to control his urge to thrust hard. "Relax, my love." But she was not given a moment to do that; Leander slightly pulled his cock back before slamming it into her body, making Daphne let out a surprised cry of pain. Much to her gratefulness, however, the pain was less than what she had imagined, and quickly went away as the general started moving in and out of her. With each stroke of his cock inside her, Daphne felt more and more wanton, until she found herself meeting Leander's every thrust, making soft mewls and gasps as Leander brought her closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. Just when she thought it could not have been better, Leander used his finger to touch her clit. Almost immediately, Daphne made a loud cry as a powerful orgasm wracked her body. While she was still in the throes of pleasure, she heard Leander groan and felt him stiffen before he released loads and loads of his seeds into her womb. They both stayed in a tangle of limbs for several moments afterward, with Leander keeping his cock inside Daphne until it grew soft. He then rolled off her and onto his back, pulling her close. Daphne suddenly felt so tired, and she curled up beside Leander. Two distinct, disturbingly painful thoughts invaded her mind before she drifted off to sleep: first, that she felt strangely empty without him lodged inside her; and, second, that she was now officially one of Leander Van Halen's whores. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ FROM THE AUTHOR: Chapter three, finally. :) I would like to mention that, when I wrote the major revisions on the second chapter of 'Courting Daphne', I sort of told myself that I would be ending the story in the third chapter, but a certain comment on the first chapter made me pause and regret my revised, contorted (*chuckles*) plans. There *is* -- in my original plan -- an explanation as to why Leander behaves the way he does to Daphne, and to omit that part of the story will result in the omission of the 'obsession' part of the tale. I am still sorting out the ways through which I might be able to deliver that explanation without turning the tale into a boring drama, so it may take a while for the next chapter to come out. Hopefully, I won't get too stuck on that. Feel free to comment on the story! I love hearing back from the readers. :) Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 04 AUTHOR'S NOTE: We are approaching that part of the story that will have you thinking, "What is this woman doing now?!" The answer is, crossing her fingers and hoping that you'll enjoy this part in spite of its shortcomings. :) Thank you for continuously reading the 'Courting Daphne' series. And thank you especially for bearing up with me on the long gap between the third and fourth installments of the tale. :) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Daphne paced back and forth inside Leander Van Halen's tent. It had been a week since most of the army had marched with the general, and she was still stuck in the camp, guarded by what was left of the general's men. It would not do, she knew. "How do I get out of here?" she asked herself in a whisper, dropping herself to the couch in order to curb her nervous energy. Everywhere she went, there were always eyes looking at her. It was as if Leander announced that she was to be watched. Daphne frowned, not liking the way things stood. The stupid deal she agreed to -- and intentionally lost -- officially labelled her Leander's property, but she would not be the first person alive to ever break a word if she ever escapes, would she? Thoughts about that deal made her pause. Heavens forgive her, but she enjoyed the way she had lost that deal. Even though Leander appeared to be some kind of a brute sometimes, Daphne was aware that he cared for her. Why he did, she did not know, but she was certain that the general cared, or else he would not have been so considerate when he took her that first time. Or, was that just his way of getting his whores? Was that why every single camp follower seemed to worship the ground he walked on? Did he sleep with each one of them? And how about the female captives? Daphne's frown deepened as she curled up on the couch. Thoughts of Leander sharing the bed with another woman irked her, but she was loath to figuring out why. "Focus, Daphne," she commanded, speaking in a soft voice. "You need no unnecessary feelings getting in your way." But, how she enjoyed his touch! Leander Van Halen was a skillful lover, she must admit. How many times did he brought her to orgasm every time he claimed her? Daphne was not sure. Counting was the last thing on her mind as she let him explore her private regions. The mere thoughts of that made her ache and wish -- however inappropriate -- that the general was here to help her get rid of the proof of her lustfulness. "Daphne?" She abruptly sat up when she heard a woman's voice coming from outside. She recognized it immediately. That invitingly husky voice belonged to Sylvia, one of the camp followers. "Come in," Daphne called, straightening her clothes as she stood up. Sylvia strode in, a beautiful lady garbed in rich velvet gown. She smiled at Daphne as soon as she was inside. There was an air about her that Daphne disliked, but Sylvia had been nothing but good to her so far and Daphne was not willing to discriminate. "Come," Sylvia said, holding out her hand. "The men have prepared a sumptuous meal. Elgeshore has plenty to offer in terms of game. The men have caught a stag earlier this morning, would you believe? And they want you to have the best cut." "Just let me get changed," Daphne said, indicating her attire. She was still in her nightgown. "I'm not appropriately dressed for any man to see." A nod was Sylvia's only response. She turned her back on Daphne, saying that they would be waiting outside. As soon as she was alone, Daphne began undressing. At least, Leander left orders for gowns to be provided for her. The finest fabric that the army seized from towns they have raided were made into gowns for Daphne. With as many as thirty pairs of hands working on them, she had a full wardrobe in no time. "Too bad they all have to be left behind when I finally find a way to escape," she muttered, sighing in resignation as she walked to the trunk from where she had taken out all of Leander's clothes so that she could use it for her own. Seeing the pile of the general's garments piled at one corner of the tent gave her a sense of victory. "I will outsmart you one day, Leander Van Halen. I swear to the gods..." -------------------------------------------------- Leander Van Halen looked up and let the water of the falls run down his face. The water was cool, giving him the relief he desperately needed after a whole day under the unforgiving sun of the kingdom of Elgeshore. It had been almost three weeks after he ordered his men to march west and meet the enemy, who turned out to be led by one of the bastard sons of Elgeshore's king. The battle that commenced a week after the march was bloody and brutal, with the Elgeshore army outnumbering his. But two of the generals serving his king heeded his call for reinforcement, and after five days of fighting, they won the battle. Not that their victory was enough of a consolation for Leander. He lost four of his best officers and about a third of his men. Yet, he had let the two generals make prisoners out of the enemies left alive, taking only gold, weapons and other valuable supplies for his men before they were marching back to camp. And, by the gods, how they marched! Even though they had horses with them, and half of the men could easily ride horses while the others walked on, Leander ordered that no horse was ridden. He did not like the idea of giving some men the privilege of riding horses and condemning the others to a long march on foot. The march back was taking so much time, but at least there was only a day and a half of marching before they were back to where the women were. At that thought, Leander grinned. Less than two days more, and then he would see her again. He remembered how she was that first night. Her small hands touching his body, her tentative lips responding to his kisses, her virgin sex waiting for his touch. God, she was hot. He still wondered how she could have managed to remain a virgin for that long. Surely, he was not the first man to notice how beautiful she was? Then again, Daphne had always lived the secured life of a princess, until she ran away. Leander continued to stand at the foot of the falls as he thought back to Daphne's sweet kisses, reluctant though they were. She would never admit it, but she wanted him. He knew it through every thrust of her hips, every moan from her lips. For when he took her at last, her cunt was dripping wet, proof that she was already highly aroused even before that. Groaning, Leander closed his eyes, his mind greedily revisiting those moments he spent with Daphne. Her silky smooth thighs wrapped around him, the walls of her pussy clinging to his cock every time he drove himself in and out of her. She was so tight, so hot, as her body begged him to claim her. He took her two more times that night, when she woke up in the middle of the night. Leander knew that she hated the thought of coupling with him, but she could not deny it even to herself that she wanted what was happening between them. She was a lustful creature, his Daphne, and he would try to satisfy her as much as he satisfied himself. "Two more nights, my love," he murmured, imagining her lovely face, her gold-flecked green eyes, her luscious red lips. "My Daphne..." His cock began to stiffen even though the water was almost chilling. Leander marvelled at how thoughts of one woman could drive him thus. But then, that was Daphne. Only thoughts of her could make him react like this. Wading out of the water, he began wondering what it was that Daphne was planning. He knew that when she gave up fighting him and started giving in to her desires, she was up to something. It was as if she was trying to fight off her reluctance so that he might not suspect that anything was amiss. Too bad for her, Leander thought; he was raised by a woman as sly as her. Her plans would just not work against him. He was already back in his full armour when his second-in-command, Anthony Renard, arrived and saluted him. "Evening, General," Anthony said, grinning. "What goes?" Leander asked, grabbing his sword and putting it back into the scabbard at his waist. "A scout from Norcross arrived, bearing a letter," Anthony answered, referring to one of the generals who reinforced the Black Wolves. Anthony fell into stride beside Leander as the general walked back to where the men were camped for the night. "I took the liberty of unsealing the message and reading it myself." Of course. Leander grinned. Anthony and he had been friends for as long as he could remember. When he chose his friend to be his second-in-command (not only because Anthony was his friend but also because the man was one of the best warriors he had known), he had given Anthony permission to do whatever it was that needed to be done, and that even included prying into his private affairs. Not that he thought anything from General Norcross would be private. "Hopefully, this battle we fought will be the last for us before we are out of Elgeshore," Anthony said. "Norcross said that it is only a matter of time before we win the war. More than half of Elgeshore has been taken over by the armies of Thersale, and soon the capital would be seized. He said that all we have to do is cut off any reinforcement from the eastern part of Elgeshore." Leander nodded. Their camp, after all, was located at the eastern part. Making sure that no reinforcement was sent meant sending scouts roaming, checking to see if the villages and towns they had left intact were not planning on sending men to reinforce the capital. Fair enough. Leander was tired of these battles, anyway. Although he served the king of Thersale, he cared nothing for what the king wanted. There was only one reason why he agreed to be one of Thersale's generals in this war, in the first place. "I am most glad that this bloody war is almost over," Leander murmured, already looking forward to returning to Thersale. Anthony laughed, somewhat irking Leander. "I never heard you talk that way before." Leander threw him a scathing look. "She was not yet with me before." "Indeed," drawled Anthony. "Your little plaything." "She is not -- " Leander began. His friend's laughter cut his statement off. "Not your plaything. Of course, of course. Then, let us just say, your little obsession? I saw her outside your tent the day before we left. I did not know that you allow her to roam around now." Leander was a little annoyed now, speaking through clenched teeth. "Daphne is not my prisoner, Renard." "And I am sure glad that she is not," Anthony continued to tease him as they rounded the curve that would bring them to the clearing where the army was staying tonight. He knew that every time Leander called him by his last name that the general was already pissed. "Mayhaps I can lure her to my tent and -- " "She is mine," Leander growled. "Try laying a hand on her and by the gods, I swear that I will behead you and throw your body to the dogs." Anthony could not stop laughing now. "Easy, General. You know I jest. The woman is yours; heavens have mercy on you." Leander's lips curled up in a smile. "She is not that bad." "Or so you think," Anthony warned him. "Remember what your viper of a guardian always used to tell us." "The most cunning of the wolves are those that pretend to be sheeps," Leander supplied, narrowing his eyes. "Then this will be a battle of the most cunning, I suppose?" Anthony snorted. "Remind me again when she finally devours you. You do not mess with a she-wolf, Van Halen. They are the most vicious of wolves, my friend." ***** The march the next day was somehow faster than the day before. Leander knew that if the men did not stop, they would arrive at the camp before midnight. He already sent a scout ahead of them so that those left at the camp would know that the main army was approaching, hopefully so that there would be something for them to eat the next day. "I suppose you are aching to be back at camp?" Leander threw Anthony a sharp look when the second-in-command sat on a rock nearby. "Go away, Renard. I wish to be left alone." But Anthony only chuckled and threw him a canteen of ale. "Know what, Leander? Your officers can take care of these men come morning. Why don't you go ahead and share the bed with your Daphne tonight?" Although he liked the idea, Leander shook his head, chugging from the canteen. "A fine proposition, but what are the men going to say when their general leave them for a woman?" "That he is head over heels in love?" Anthony asked, chuckling when he saw the expression on Leander's face. "Come on, General. You are only human." "I don't love Daphne," Leander hissed. "Uh-huh." Anthony's grin did not go well with his nod. "And birds don't fly, I suppose?" Leander shook his head but let out a resigned sigh. "I will have your head on a platter by the end of this war, Anthony. That is the hundredth time you called me a liar." "I never referred to you as one!" complained the second-in-command, laughing. "See what I'm talking about?" Leander grinned. "The hundred-and-first time..." Anthony burst into laughter. "If you don't want me to call you a liar, Leander, start speaking the truth. You are in love with the duke's daughter and that's that." Looking at the flames of the bonfire that he had lit earlier, Leander frowned. The duke Anthony was referring to was the Duke of Wildercross, the most powerful duke of Thersale. The general hated to be reminded that Daphne was the duke's eldest daughter, knowing that once the Thersalian armies were called back to the kingdom, he would have to decide whether or not he would bring Daphne home to the ducal estate from where she escaped two years ago. "Speaking of the duke..." began Anthony. "I am not in the mood to talk about the duke." Leander stood up and tossed the canteen back to his friend. "If he learns about what I did to his daughter, I would be food to the worms before I even have the chance to speak." "Why did you do it if you don't love the girl?" asked Anthony. Leander chose to ignore the question and instead walked away, heading to where his horse was kept. He heard Anthony's footsteps behind as his friend followed him. "If I go back to camp, are you coming with me?" he asked. "But of course, General," Anthony answered. "I'll be glad to have two women to myself tonight." "Well, then. Tell the other officers that I wish to march ahead of the army," Leander said, grinning as Daphne's image came to his mind again. "And that you are to come with me." ***** The camp was hardly silent when Leander and Anthony arrived. A large group of soldiers was drinking around a campfire, having fun with some of the camp followers. In spite of his intention of spending time with Daphne as soon as possible, Leander had to approach the men first to announce his arrival. "I s'pose our general returned for the girl?" asked one of the drunkest soldiers, flashing a toothless grin and waving a jug of rum. "Aye, he did!" Anthony answered before Leander could even open his mouth to answer. "And with good reasons. I take it that you have seen her? Pretty young thing, ain't she?" There were shouts of agreement all around, to Leander's embarrassment. But his men only teased him whenever they thought he was in a good mood, and even though he was anxious to leave the party, Leander was indeed in a very good mood. He even accepted the cup of wine that one of the women offered. "The prettiest she would be is when she's all naked and spread before me," shouted one of the men. Leander chuckled. "And the moment you see her in that manner, rest assured that your head would be served on a platter the very next hour." Although everyone cheered at that, Leander knew at least that the warning was heard. Anthony skillfully diverted the topic away from Daphne and towards what the men had been up to during the three weeks the others marched, allowing Leander to slip away unnoticed -- or barely so. A lantern was lit inside the tent, placed on top of the night table beside Daphne's side of the bed. Leander smiled, realizing that the young woman must hate the dark. He began undressing, his eyes glued on Daphne's sleeping figure on the bed. As he always noted whenever he would watch her sleep, Daphne looked so much younger whenever she was asleep. For the first time, Leander wondered how old she was. Nineteen? Twenty? His mind whirled. How young was she when he first found her? Five months? That was about nineteen years ago, wasn't it -- when he was eight? 'If I had known that I'd feel this way for you...' he thought, throwing his armour and his clothes to the nearby chair. As he moved closer, he realized that Daphne was positioned the same way she always was whenever they were sleeping with each other: lying on her side, facing Leander's side of the bed, with an arm and a leg draped over him. Since he was not there, Daphne placed his pillow where he was supposed to be. "Did you miss me as much as I missed you, my love?" he whispered, gently taking Daphne's arm off the pillow and lifting her hand to his lips. Looking at her, Leander wondered what he would do once the war was over. Would he give her back to the duke from whom she ran away two years before? Or would he repay his debts to the woman who raised him and give Daphne to her? "Daphne," he said aloud, gently shaking her awake. He watched as her eyes fluttered open, revealing green eyes with flecks of gold, surrounded by thick, dark lashes. A small smile appeared on her lips when she saw him. "Leander." The soft sound of her voice seemed to draw his heart out of his chest and up to his throat. Leander swallowed, cursing his own feelings. It was bad enough that she was the daughter of a duke and he had no right to touch her... "How are you, my love?" he asked softly, watching as she sat up on the bed. "Tired," Daphne answered, that small smile still on her lips. She looked so young, so vulnerable -- so much like herself without any touch of the fear or hardship that she had to endure. Leander thanked the gods that she still looked sleepy, for he was sure that she would not let him see that side of her had she been fully awake. "And sleepy." Slowly, Daphne inched her way towards him, snaking her arms around his waist and placing her head on his shoulder when she was close enough. Leander had to take a deep breath in order to prevent himself from pushing her to the bed and making love to her right then. "I'm glad you're back." Leander did not know how to react when he heard that whispered statement. Did she mean it, or was this part of her plan? Was she playing him? Her hands started roaming around his upper torso, as if she were checking him for something. Leander caught them and slowly pushed her away so that he could look into her eyes. "Is something wrong?" he asked. "You were not hurt, were you?" Was this part of her game? Whether or not it was, Leander could not help but smile. "No." At the sight of that smile, Daphne's cheeks were tainted by a faint blush, and before Leander could understand what was happening, she was already lying on the bed, tucked under the blanket with her back turned to him. He slipped under the sheets and cuddled close to her. Only when her back was already pressed against his chest did he admit how much he had missed sleeping with Daphne by his side. He pressed closer, wanting her to feel his erection pressing on her backside. After all, there was only her nightgown separating their bodies. Leander began stroking her hips, wishing to hell that Daphne would not deny him tonight. There was nothing in his mind but thoughts of coupling with her, and he did not know if he could control himself if she tried to stop him. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 04 He perceived her silence as an indication that she approved of what he was doing. Leander kissed her head as his hand started caressing the cheeks of her backside. He let his fingers slip forwards, touching her cunt; still, Daphne said and did nothing. "I need you, my sweet," he whispered to her ears while he pulled the hem of her nightgown up so that he could touch her skin, not just the fabric she was wearing. "I'm tired," she said in a small voice, although she made no move of separating from him. "So am I," he said, groaning when he felt that his fingers were coated by her juices as he explored her sex. "But I need you, my love. It has been so long since I last had you. And you need me." Daphne turned around to face him. There was determination in both her eyes and her voice as she spoke. She took his hand and placed it over her cunt. "This needs you. But this..." She placed his hand over her chest. "And this..." She moved the hand over her head. "They don't want anything to do with you." Leander swallowed as unbidden emotions began to flood through his body. The pain that her confession brought him was nothing like what he thought it would be. Somehow, it was more potent than he had imagined. "How sad," he murmured, tracing the curve of her lips as he spoke. "Everything in me needs you." He moved his face close to hers so that he could lick at her lips. "Everything in me wants you." He held the back of her head and pressed his forehead against hers. "And I swear that I will do everything in my power to have all of you, because you are mine, Daphne. I spent my whole life on you and I will never let you go." He did not let her say anything more as he kissed her mouth. He felt her struggling against him, but Leander wanted nothing more than to claim her. Daphne was fighting him off more persistently than she had ever done before, and the general briefly wondered what triggered her resolute non-cooperation. He had to pin her arms onto the bed in order to stop her forceful pushes. Daphne was groaning now, but not due to pleasure, as she used to. Her groans were triggered by her annoyance, Leander realized. "What happened to your plan?" he asked in a teasing whisper when he ended the kiss. "You were to let me think that you lost your will to fight, then run away once I trust you enough, weren't you?" Upon hearing that, Daphne stopped struggling. "I know nothing of what you say." Leander grinned and began kissing her face. "You have so much more to learn, my sweet. Clearly, you are not as much of a viper as I was afraid you are." "Get off me!" Daphne hissed as she renewed her struggles. "Now!" It amused Leander to no end that her tendency of giving orders seemed to come out every time she was annoyed. He released her arms in order to make better use of his hands through stroking Daphne's body. She began pushing him away, groaning as she did so, but Leander was still more powerful than she was, at least physically. The way she struggled only fuelled his desires. She moved so fluidly that even her objection seemed to be teasing him -- as if she was hell-bent on seducing him, as if her movements beneath him were intentionally sensual. Even her whimpers and grunts as she continued to fight were highly arousing. The general wondered if she realized just how crazy she was driving him with her fight. Leander groaned and started to push her nightgown up to reveal her body. As his hands caressed the sides of her breasts, Leander used his thumbs to tease her erect nipples. Daphne let out a moan, arching her body closer to his. Her hands, which had been trying to push him away before, grabbed his shoulders instead. Leander felt an urge to make fun of her, but decided against it, knowing that she would not find it quite amusing. Instead, he started showering her neck with kisses, whispering sweet nothings all the while. Daphne's grasp tightened when Leander moved a hand to her wet cunt. With a groan, Leander captured her newly-unattended nipple in his mouth, rolling it between his lips. Down where her sex was, he used his thumb to circle her clit while he stroked her folds with the other fingers. Feeling her juices flowing and hearing her soft mewls aroused Leander even more, and he had to fight down the urge of ending the foreplay and claiming her instead. It was easily accomplished: he only needed to remind himself of his promise to Daphne -- he would never hurt her. Even if it meant torturing himself -- even if it meant always holding back. "Leander..." groaned Daphne as she ran her fingers through the general's hair. It was almost his undoing. He knew that Daphne only called him by his first name when she was in a pleasant mood, or when she was in the throes of pleasure. Her groans indicated her desire. The effect it had on him was almost instantaneous: he wanted to have her soon. Yet, Leander could not afford taking her yet. He knew that she still had a will to stop him. He wanted her when she would least likely refuse him, for he did not want to take her when she was hardly willing. It might be true that Daphne only let him make love to her because she was already past the point of no return, yet that was still consent that she was giving him, reluctant though it was. Leander would take that anytime and be content, rather than have nothing of her at all. He moved his mouth away from her nipple and kissed her lips, slipping a finger inside her as he did so. Gods, she was so invitingly wet. Leander slipped another finger inside her hole, groaning into her mouth. If only she had any idea how much it hurt to control himself just so that he would not scare her off! When he began pumping his fingers in and out of her, Daphne moved her hips to meet his fingers. Leander kissed her forehead, loving the way she moved beneath him. She was indeed a very sensual creature, whether she realized that or not, and Leander wondered if knowing how to bring out that part of her was enough to keep her. He was almost sure that the answer was no, but a part of him wanted to hope. Leander looked at Daphne's face, somewhat surprised when he realized that she was watching him. Her slightly parted lips added to a very arousing image of her, and for a brief moment, Leander was able to see the sensual woman who, as of yet, was just learning how powerful females could be. Staring at those lips was not enough; Leander began kissing them, savouring her sweetness. Daphne let out a groan, as his fingers still relentlessly stroked her slick walls. To the general's delight, she started to respond to his kisses, tentatively at first, but growing bolder and bolder each time. She wrapped her arms around him, her movements synchronized to his. Leander immediately recognized it as the sign that she was ready for him. In the back of his mind, he wished that Daphne could be just as yielding as this every time so that he did not have to feel bad about seducing her when she so clearly despised the thought of being with him. Still watching her, Leander began to move down. Daphne's eyes remained open, not breaking the eye contact that they had as Leander's mouth travelled across her chest, purposefully leading downwards. Even when he started licking at her clit and she let out a loud whimper, Daphne kept their gazes locked. "Oh god," Daphne gasped when Leander started sucking on her bud. Only then did she tear her gaze away and closed her eyes. Leander felt her thrusting her hips up to meet his mouth and fingers. Her right hand was gently stroking his hair, while he held the other one. Leander also felt her legs wrapping around his body, as if she was afraid to let him get away. To be reminded of how much she was dying to have him claim her made Leander groan as he continued giving attention to her nub of pleasure. Daphne called his name again. He was delighted at the sound. Her voice was filled with so much longing, so much need, that for a moment, he forgot her initial reluctance and was even able to afford himself the luxury of imagining that Daphne was here of her own consent. Before she could reach orgasm, Leander pulled his fingers out of her and moved his face away from her sex. Daphne groaned in frustration, clinging to him as he started kissing her face. She resembled a whimpering child, minus the tears and the tantrum. Leander wondered how she could possibly tame this side of her at all, but he secretly wished that she could normally be like this -- so that he could keep her and not feel bad about it. He would rather know that she only kept him for her pleasure and have her by his side than to let go of her. "I want to fuck you, Daphne," he whispered on her ear. "I want to fuck you rough and hard until you scream, until you admit that you need me, you want me." He watched as blood rushed up her face. The blush that resulted looked lovely on her otherwise pale skin. All Leander wanted to do was to start making love to her so that her blush would stay for as long as it could. She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on -- if you could trust the judgment of a man as in love as he was. Gods, how could he have fallen for this girl? Leander guided her hand -- the one he was holding -- to his cock, and made her wrap her fingers around the base. He heard a soft moan from her, but was not sure if she liked it or not. To ask her was out of the question; she would never answer without snapping back to the logical, moralistic Daphne that he would have to force if he had to relieve his raging hard-on. Hands still wrapped around hers, Leander began stroking his cock. He watched as the redness of her face darkened. Daphne bit her lower lip and closed her eyes, groaning as he kissed her shoulder. Something about that groan told Leander that she was aching for him now. With that idea in mind, Leander let go of her hand, wondering what she would do if her fingers alone were curled around his manhood. Daphne continued stroking him slowly. She opened her eyes and found him watching her face. The general noticed that there was doubt in her eyes. He felt bad for her -- always torn between the curiosity of a girl who newly lost her virginity and the morality of the woman she was raised to be. He offered her a lingering kiss on the mouth. If only he could help her... Suddenly, he felt her moving her legs further apart, bending her knees at the same time. She did not let go of his cock; instead, she squeezed it and continued to pump. Leander grinned and started kissing her mouth again, demanding that she let his tongue in. He was not denied. Moving her hips, Daphne sought the most convenient position for penetration. Leander realized this and helped her. In gratitude, she used her tongue to play with his for a while. Leander groaned, praying that she would get on with putting his cock into her so that he could start pounding in and out of her. His self-control was approaching its limit, and he did not want to shock Daphne by taking her suddenly. As if she could hear his thoughts, Daphne guided his cock to her entrance. She used her own juices to coat the tip of his cock. She had just barely poised the tip at the very entrance of her sex before Leander finally let go of his control and thrust his hips forward, burying his cock inside her. The surprised cry that issued forth from her lips was muffled by his mouth devouring hers. Unleashing his hungry beast, Leander did not even bother checking if Daphne was all right with what he had done. He drove his shaft in and out of her sheath, feeling her tightness all around him even as her juices eased his way. Gods, he would gladly spend most of his time inside her if she would allow it! She felt so good around him -- so hellishly hot. With his every thrust, Daphne let out a cry, breaking the silence at that part of the camp. Leander growled and grabbed her thighs so that she could not get away if she had a plan to. He did not know how Daphne would react to a hard fuck, but made up his mind that he would deal with the consequences later. For now, he would enjoy himself as he tore through her flesh, because -- hell! He waited three weeks to have her again! Daphne's arms went around his neck, pulling him down on her as she started meeting the violent thrusts of his hips. Leander started sucking on the soft flesh of her neck, overwhelmed by the fact that she was responding to him. He varied the rhythm of his thrusts -- sometimes slow, sometimes fast -- and was rewarded by Daphne's appreciative moans. It was not long before Leander felt his muscles tensing for the release of his seeds into Daphne's womb. He bit the side of her neck lightly before whispering, "I'm coming, my love." Daphne's response was to groan as she grabbed the hair at the back of his head and held him close to her body. As he shot his load into her, her walls began clenching and unclenching around his cock, milking him of every drop he had to offer. Leander held Daphne, fascinated by the way her body writhed beneath him. As the fires of their passion died down, Leander rolled off Daphne, cradling her close. He braced himself for the inevitable pain coming to claim him. Every time he was done making love to her, Daphne would withdraw to herself. Leander knew why: she regretted the way she responded to him. That knowledge cut into him deeply, as he knew that it was him who coaxed her into giving in. He began stroking Daphne's hair absent-mindedly. Being with this woman brought out the worst parts of her personality: the controlling part, the possessive part. His desire to keep her, to always have her near, was borderline obsession. 'No,' he thought; 'it is obsession.' But who could blame him? He was just a man, and this woman had been under his watch for as long as he could remember. Was it a sin to develop these feelings for her? Only when he sighed did he realize that Daphne was tracing lazy patterns on his chest, his abdomen. He caught her hand, thus urging her to look up at him. Leander noted that her eyes still do not reflect the misery she always feels every time they would have sex. "Can I ask you a question?" she asked softly. Leander raised an eyebrow, hiding away the fact that her question pleased him. At least, she was not withdrawing inwards. "Apart from that one, I suppose?" A small smile touched her lips. "Why, yes!" "Go ahead, then," Leander said. Her steady gaze warmed something inside him as she started speaking. "I saw your men when they violated the women from the village where I lived. And then, when you were gone, I saw some of the men taking the female captives against the women's will. The men were all rough to their women, only thinking of their own pleasure. But you..." She lowered her gaze to hide whatever it was that could have been reflected in her eyes. "You are different. You do not treat me the way that your men treat those women. You are always so gentle, always so considerate. I want to know why." Leander debated about whether to tell her the truth or not. Daphne raised her eyes and looked at him again. The fire in those eyes seemed to burn him, as if she was trying to remould his character, trying to reshape his will without saying a word. And Leander knew that she was succeeding. This gentle, considerate Leander was not him. Being with this woman not only brought out the worst in him; it seemed to bring out the best parts of his personality. In the end, Leander realized that he was not strong enough to see the reaction that his confession would trigger in Daphne. If he scared her away, he did not know what he would do. "This is not the time to talk about this, my love," he said softly as he stroked her cheek. "You said you were tired. Perhaps you should sleep." Daphne was quiet for a while, before a forced smile appeared on her lips and an accusatory tone crept into her voice. "I said I was tired and yet you used me for your own pleasure. Now that I ask a question, you tell me to go to sleep? Is this your way of telling me that I am just a tool you can use whenever you please, however you please?" Leander was shocked. "Daphne!" "No!" she said, her eyes burning with flames of anger. "I just need to know the man who claims possession of me. If that is who you are, I am perfectly fine with it. All I need is to know, because I have no desire of being in the dark when I am dealing with you." In all the years he had watched her, Leander never saw this side of Daphne. She was never one to say her opinions aloud. But perhaps, that was because she was never expected to. Besides, he never actually expected her to escape when she did, did he? "Tell me who you are," Daphne said softly, lowering her gaze. "I have been kept in the dark for most of my life and I hated it." "I know," he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. She looked at him again, saying, "No, you don't -- " She stopped. "Oh god. You do." Leander nodded. "I have known you since you were a babe crying your heart out for want of milk." "How -- " Daphne visibly swallowed, shaken. "Who are you?" "How much do you know about yourself?" Leander asked, wondering how he would proceed from here. "I know everything now," she answered. "I am the eldest daughter of the Duke of Wildercross, but his duchess, my brother's mother, is not mine. The mother I never knew is the present Duchess of Brayhorn." "She is the one I am working for," Leander explained. "You were still with her when I first saw you crying in a crib, unattended. She was hiding you from the duke, you see, and had to run away from her family in order to do so. Having known your father, I am sure you understand why. She hired my friend, Anthony, and I to help her take care of you. That meant bringing you to nursing mothers when you got hungry while your mother was trying to earn a living. In return, your mother kept us, until Anthony left when his uncle took him. "When your mother was found by the duke's guards one day, you were left with me, and I had to take care of you alone, leaving the house your mother leased when the guards started to search the neighbourhood. For almost a year, it was only you and me living in the charity of different people. I agreed to be a hired hand for any family that promises to feed us. Only Anthony knew where to find us every time, so it was him that your mother was able to locate when she was finally able to slip away. "It was because of that one year of being your only guardian that, when your mother decided to take you from me, I begged her to let me take care of you in return for mere food and shelter," he said, averting his gaze when he saw Daphne's tears. He never liked seeing women crying. "I was with the two of you until the duke found your mother again when you were already four. He took you away and imprisoned her. As for me, I followed you, promising your mother that I would watch you until she was released. As soon as she was out of that prison, your mother started paying for my education, putting me at the centre of her elaborate plot of getting you back." "So you watched me and watched me and abducted me the moment you got the chance?" Daphne sounded appalled. Leander flinched and looked at her. "I lost you when you escaped from Wildercross. I did not exactly expect you to pull that off as well as you did." Daphne's face reddened, and to Leander's surprise, she laughed. "It was that good, was it not?" At last, Leander asked the question he had been dying to ask since then. "How did you pull that off?" "Through the assistance of more than half of the servants in the ducal estate and the welcoming embrace of my aunt," Daphne answered. "She had been hiding from her brother for decades, and had never been found." "How did you find her, then?" he wondered. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 04 "I did not," came her answer. "She found me." The two of them fell silent, each lost in his own thoughts. From a distance, they heard the raucous laughter of the men who were still celebrating at that hour of the night. Leander then heard Daphne sigh. "So, I am your duty, am I not?" she asked when he looked at her, not waiting for an answer before continuing. "That's fine with me. Better than knowing that I am your plaything." Leander smoothed back some strands of her hair, keeping them away from her face. He did not object to her statement. Better let her think that than let her know what she really meant to him. "Is claiming me sexually a part of your duty, too?" she asked. "I wonder, what does the Duchess of Brayhorn going to do if she finds out what you turned me into while at camp with you?" The general felt uneasy with the knowledge that Daphne's mother would probably throw him in prison. When he turned to her, he noticed the way that Daphne's eyes were twinkling, as if the woman was finding his discomfort amusing. Leander decided to test the waters. "No, it is not part of my duty, and the duchess will probably imprison me the moment she finds out," he answered. "That is if she is feeling generous. If not, I'd be chopped into pieces or buried alive. Does the knowledge please you, my sweet?" Daphne's eyes said that it did. "You better pray for my mother's generosity, then." "I never knew your mother as a generous woman," Leander said. "Then, you better pray to the spirits to take your soul into their realm," Daphne said, climbing on top of him and rubbing her nose against his. "You poor, poor man." Leander smiled at her, glad that she seemed to be in a light-hearted mood, and grabbed both cheeks of her backside. His cock was starting to stir. "Well. Perhaps I should make the best of what is left in my life, don't you think? Enjoy you as much as I could?" Daphne smiled but shook her head. "I will cut you a deal. Let me go, and I will never tell my mother, or my father, or anyone at all." "Oh, Daphne." Leander chuckled, pulling her face down so that it was inches away from his. "My whole life revolved around you. If I let you go, my life would lose focus. If I have to choose between living without you and dying due to what I have done to you, I would choose the latter." "Don't you have a wife, a child?" Daphne asked softly, staring into his eyes. "My whole life revolved around you," Leander repeated, touching her face. "When I lost sight of you for two years, all that pushed me through was your mother's constant nagging that I will find you. I led the men she provided me with, dared every army I was pitched against, with only that thought in mind." "Why?" Daphne asked. "Why are you so obsessed about finding me?" "Maybe you should talk to your mother about that, when I bring you back to her," Leander answered. Daphne nodded. "You are a strange hunter. You did not even know how your target looks like. And don't you tell me that I was wrong. You did not recognize me the first time you saw me." Leander smiled slowly, raking his eyes over Daphne's face. "You should face a looking glass sometimes, Daphne. You should know how much your appearance have changed -- how much more beautiful, more mature you now look." He noticed how Daphne's eyes softened at those words, but the girl was so much like her cunning parents to actually let her head be spun that easily. "I do not remember your face from before, but I see you now, and..." She grinned. "You are attractive. Very, very attractive." "That's a start," Leander said, kissing her lips. "Now, we need to take care of the angry beast hovering behind you before it kills me." "What are you talking about?" asked the confused Daphne. Leander took her hand and guided it to where his cock was. "I am talking about this." As blood rushed up her face, Leander kissed her mouth hungrily. He did not plan on trying to claim Daphne for a second time that night, but her actions were more than a bit seductive, and he could not prevent himself from feeling the way he felt. Daphne moaned into his mouth, squeezing his cock before letting it go. He felt her trying to get away from him, but Leander held her close to him even as she struggled. For the first time in three weeks, he once again wondered if Daphne really had a penchant for ruining everything. They had been off to a good start, and now --! He rolled over so that Daphne was the one lying on the bed and he was hovering above her. Only when they were already in that position and he was sure that she would not have a chance of getting away from him did he release her mouth and allowed her to speak. "Abominable!" cried Daphne, pounding her fists on his chest. "How can you do this? You cannot resort to this kind of thing!" "What exactly is this kind of thing?" Leander asked, parting her legs. To his amusement, Daphne whimpered like a child and stopped struggling. "You said I could sleep." "You should not have seduced me, then," he countered. "I was not seducing you!" she said incredulously. "How could I know that you are that easily aroused?" "You could not," he answered, "but now you know. What do you propose I do about this now, though?" He once again let her touch his cock. "Will you voluntarily help me relieve myself, or do I have to force you into helping me?" Daphne frowned, although she looked more scared than angry. "I am not going to volunteer to do that." "So, you want me to force my way in?" Leander asked, petting her cunt. It was starting to get moist, and he wondered if Daphne was aware of how her body was reacting to his touch. She winced. "You are not going to do that. You said you will never hurt me." "Oh, it won't hurt a bit," he chuckled, "if you do not resist." Daphne looked thoughtful. "Will you let me sleep afterwards?" Leander grinned. "It depends on how well you please me, my sweet." Before Daphne could say anything more, he kissed her mouth, feeling light-hearted. The sudden change in Daphne's treatment of him lifted his spirits. An understanding seemed to have formed between them as soon as he told her about their shared history. Leander vowed that he would keep it that way. As Daphne's mouth opened for his tongue and she wrapped her legs around him, Leander knew that, perhaps, he was not the only one vowing so. ***** The early morning breeze was cold, yet Leander felt as though it was not. The hunt for game in the nearby woods started early, for he was insistent that those left in the camp should prepare for the arrival of the men he marched to battle three weeks ago. It was lucky for them that Elgeshoran woods abound with wild boars, stags, and large birds. Their hunt had been successful, and after sending some of the men back to bring their kill to the camp, Leander led the rest to meet the men he left last night. By the time he was back with the majority of his army, it was already past noon and Leander was itching to be back at camp. Besides the fact that the idea of a sumptuous meal was beckoning to him, the knowledge that Daphne would be waiting inside their tent was more than enough to rouse his eagerness. But when he arrived and walked into the tent to call Daphne down to lunch, the tent was empty. The bed was carefully made, and there was no sign of her anywhere. He even noticed that his clothes, which were still piled in a corner of the tent that morning, were not there anymore. He did not bother looking into his trunk to know that the clothes would be there. "Renard!" he called to his friend, clenching his fists. Anthony was inside the tent in a few seconds. "Order the men to search the whole camp for Daphne." Anthony said nothing to the general, but shouted the order to the men outside. He turned to Leander as soon as the order was given. "She could not have left of her own will," Leander hissed, trying to control the anger that was starting to boil inside him. Was Daphne playing him all along the night before? "Gods, she couldn't!" His friend remained silent. That made him more furious. He knew what Anthony's silence meant: his friend did not share his opinion. But Daphne promised to wait for him, did she not? When he accidentally woke her up early that morning as he was preparing to hunt, Daphne even kissed him -- of her own free will. She had even asked him if he wanted to stay with her instead of go with his men. She would not do this! Or, did he underestimate her? Was she as cunning as her father, as resourceful as her mother? Was he too blinded by his feelings that he did not see through her mask? "By the fucking gods!" he exclaimed, itching to strike something just then. "We better find her!" "What if we don't?" Anthony asked. "If I have to turn the whole Elgeshore upside down to find Daphne, I would," Leander hissed, frowning. "She will never get away from me." Anthony raised an eyebrow. "Your..." He paused, narrowing his eyes, before continuing, "...dedication to her is extremely disconcerting." Leander knew that Anthony wanted to say 'obsession' instead of 'dedication', but thought better of it on the very last minute. The knowledge that Anthony was trying not to upset him more told Leander that he must seem as if he was losing it. He had to sigh and try to control his anger before saying anything. "If I cannot have her, then, I at least need to know where she is," he said. "I need to make sure that she is safe. If she is in danger, I will bring her back to Thersale and give her to the Duchess of Brayhorn. But I will not rest until I know that Daphne is out of harm's way." His friend murmured something about leading the search and excused himself; Leander decided to remain a while longer inside the tent. He did not want his men to see him thus affected. Whether he admitted it or not, the thought of Daphne betraying his trust gnawed at his heart. Could she be that devious? Could she really care none for him? He was just about to accept that Daphne would never feel the same way for him as he did for her, when into the tent rushed one of the women. Mia, if he remembered the name correctly. She was one of the women from Daphne's village. That she would rush in like that into his tent was something Leander would not have tolerated at any other time, but her statement caught his attention. "I know where she is," the woman said. "If you promise to give me the protection you give to every woman who willingly follows your soldiers, I will tell you where to find her." "How do I know that you tell the truth?" Leander asked. The woman looked offended. "I have nothing left but my words, General." "Where is Daphne?" he asked, nodding to indicate that he gave her his word, too. "Taken," answered Mia, "by the order of someone close to you." Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 05 Leander could not believe his ears. Daphne was taken because a friend of his ordered that she be taken from him? There were only a few people in this camp whom he considers his friends, and most of them were not powerful enough to orchestrate a woman's abduction -- especially when he was so close. Annoyed, he grabbed the woman's arm and glared at her. "Are you speaking the truth, woman?" Mia looked offended as she raised her chin and glared back at him. She pursed her lips and brushed his hand off her. "Either you take me by my words or you do not. Your choice." The general frowned. "Where do they plan to take her?" "The duchy of Northcove," answered Mia. "She is to be the gift to the duke." That presented a problem. Northcove's duchy was the only part of Elgeshore that Thersalian armies were not allowed to attack, since Northcove had always been at odds with the present Elgeshoran monarch. The only thing that kept the Elgeshoran king to attack the duke was the size of Northcove's private army. Although that army would be no comparison to Thersalian armies, the Thersalian king promised to honour Northcove's neutrality in this war. But, why would the duke agree to abduct a woman for some Thersalian warrior? Or, did the duke know Daphne? Before Leander could further question the woman, Anthony rushed into the tent. Upon seeing Mia in there, his friend frowned. Leander narrowed his eyes, looking at Mia again. "Do you know who it is that ordered Daphne to be taken?" he asked. "No," Mia answered, shaking her head. "I only overheard the men speaking in whispers. I heard them chuckling as they shared thoughts of what your reaction would be once you find out that you are being betrayed." "Betrayed?" Anthony interjected. "What nonsense is this?" Leander looked grim as he dismissed Mia. He then turned to his second-in-command, not sure anymore about how much he should trust his friend. "What brought you back? I thought you are going to lead the search?" "I am," said Anthony. "I only came back to inform you that a scout reported seeing five horsemen heading northwest just this morning." A string of curses fell from the general's lips as he considered the situation. If those horsemen were indeed Daphne's captors, then, Mia could be telling the truth, since it was the direction leading to the duchy in question. And the implication was that she could be telling the truth about the betrayal. Leander looked at his friend, wondering if Anthony could still be trusted. "How much do you trust my judgment, Renard?" A slow, grim grin spread on Anthony's face. "When you are not thinking of Daphne, I trust you with my life. But when she is around you, or when you worry about her, I do not trust you at all. If only you would listen, I would suggest that you let go of her and be done with your folly." He met Leander's angry gaze without so much as a flinch. "But I have known you since childhood, so I know what she means to you. You need her, and if only for the friendship that binds us, by your orders, I will look for her and bring her back however much I dislike her." The general heaved a deep breath, knowing that Anthony, at least, was not the traitor, if ever there was one. "You call it folly, do you not?" "Think straight, Leander," Anthony told him. "You know that it is." "I am not certain anymore," he admitted to his friend, his face further crumpling into a frown. "She is all I have, Anthony." "I understand that," Anthony said. "Now, what was that woman telling you about?" The general filled his friend in with the details. When done, he growled, "Who would be foolish enough to do this to me?" Anthony raised an eyebrow. "Sylvia?" When Leander fixed him a dark look, he shrugged. "It is not unlike her to pull something as nasty as this. After all, she has been your favourite long before you found Daphne." Leander frowned. Could it be? ***** Mia spoke to no one after leaving Leander Van Halen's tent. She did not know whether the general believed her or not, but she could at least be proud that she tried. She muttered an apology to the gods she had been praying to for as long as she could remember, and asked for pardon for the lie she had spoken. It was necessary, she thought; that was Daphne's order. Mia knew that she could not fail the young lady now -- not when Daphne was making so large a sacrifice. She had to buy Daphne some time -- just until the lady arrived at the duke's palace. ***** The horses raced across the green plains of eastern Elgeshore, heading northwest. There were five of them, all from the finest breed of horses found in that part of the world. Astride four were seasoned warriors who swore to protect their charge with their lives; on one was the lady they came to assist. Daphne has insisted that they refrained from going anywhere near the villages that Leander's army spared. The general would surely dispatch men to those villages, and it was better if nobody saw her passing nearby, or else Leander would be compelled to track her down. As thoughts of Leander began filling her mind, Daphne felt an unbidden tingling down her crotch. Memories of the moments they shared last night made her face flush red. She could almost feel his hands on her body again, his cock buried inside of her, filling her, driving her mad with desire. But she knew that it was mere fantasy, and that she should shake herself awake soon or she would be trying to relieve the ache in her sex even though there were four men with her. Sighing, Daphne let out the reins, leaned forwards, and gently kicked her mare for more speed. She found horseback riding a liberating exercise, although she had never been allowed to ride sitting like a man. Now, however, with nobody to tell her that a proper lady only rides side-saddle, Daphne had taken the opportunity and rode away, only glaring down at Conrad and the other three men when startled looks came across their faces. She found the straddling position better suited to her, and revelled in the freedom she had to finally try it out. She sped past the men in front of her, provoking their never-to-be-outdone nature out. They urged their horses to run faster, intent on gaining the lead, but Daphne, too, did not particularly like the idea of losing the race. She urged her mare to gallop at full speed, maintaining her lead. Her riding skills was one of the few great things she was proud of inheriting from her father, and Daphne vowed never to allow anyone to speed past her in a race for as long as she had the Wildercross blood running through her veins. It was fortunate of her that her chestnut mare seemed to share the same competitive streak. The race continued until they reached the edge of the forest that bordered Northcove's territory. As expected, five other men were waiting with fresh horses for the newcomers. Daphne was given a blue roan horse to ride on -- one of the duke's favourite personal horses. She accepted it gladly, relieved that His Royal Highness did not turn her request down. "You ride well and fast, my lady," Conrad commented, smiling at Daphne as she mounted the blue roan easily. "A wonderful skill to have, especially when escaping from a general such as Leander Van Halen." Daphne smiled timidly. If only she had a choice, she would not have left Leander. Not for anything in the world. But it was her duty to leave if she wanted to be of use. 'Dear god,' she prayed silently as the men led her to the path in the woods. 'Please let him understand...' ***** A grim expression clouded Leander's face when he was able to speak to the scout who claimed to have seen five horsemen leaving the camp. It was already dusk and they were starting to eat dinner. He has questioned Sylvia earlier, but learned that the woman was too preoccupied with a new lover to plan anything. It was only instinct that told him to talk to the scout personally. And the man told him that there was only one rider on each horse, one of which was a woman. Which could only mean that Daphne willingly left the camp with those men. But Mia said that Daphne was taken, didn't she? So Daphne could not have willingly left. Was she coerced into doing so? Or convinced, perhaps? Blackmailed, maybe? After their night together, Leander believed that Daphne would not even try to formulate a plan to escape. She had been so willing, so eager to have him claim her. She even invited him to stay with her that morning. Or was that part of her plans? Grudgingly, Leander reminded himself that Daphne has planned to cooperate with him fully so that she could make a move when he trusted her enough. Did he let his guard down prematurely? "What now?" Anthony asked him when Leander refused to put away his grim warrior mask when the meal was over and Leander sat silently watching the fire he made for himself. "The way you are frowning, it is as if we are about to face an army ten times the size of ours." Leander did not appreciate Anthony's joke. He sent daggers through his sidelong glance to his friend. "Call Mia. I need to talk to her." Anthony ordered a warrior to call Mia, who has been assigned a small tent of her own. He did not try to talk to Leander again, knowing that the general would rather be left alone to his musings. When Mia arrived, she was asked to sit down beside Leander, who immediately put her on the spot. "Did you or did you not lie to me, Mia?" the general asked, glaring at the woman. To her credit, Mia did not even flinch as she met Leander's eyes. "About what?" "Daphne," Leander hissed, trying his hardest not to grab the woman's arm and squeeze it painfully. In spite of his threat to Daphne the first night she was there -- that his guards would kill a woman from her village for every escape attempt she tried, Leander was not one to hurt a woman physically or to order anybody to do so. That was why he rescued Daphne in the first place even though he had no idea that it was her. And that was why he ordered the silent execution of the men who raped some of the women from her village. Now, he did not want to treat Mia harshly even though he was aching to do just that; he had a reputation to keep. So, he calmly asked, "Where is she?" "Regarding that matter, I did not lie to you," Mia answered. "The lady is headed to the duke of Northcove's palace. I am certain, for the men who came for her are some of his personal guards. I know because my mother once served the duke." "What shall I do to you if I prove you wrong?" he asked. "You can torture me any way you like," Mia offered. "And kill me in the end if that pleases you. Do to me whatever you want, General. I care not, for I am telling you the truth." Leander frowned. "Daphne. Is she a hostage or a refugee in Northcove's palace?" A sigh escaped from Mia's lips before she responded. "A refugee." The confirmation of his fears dealt a heavy blow on Leander. He forced himself to ignore the pain. So, Daphne did betray him. She broke her promise and she left him, running to the only man in this kingdom that the Thersalian armies were not allowed to attack. 'Damn her,' Leander cursed, if only in his mind. Would they be playing cat and mouse forever? Was it so hard for her to just stay with him? And just when he thought she was giving in --! "Go now," he ordered Mia calmly, turning his back on her. "Do not let me catch you in one of your lies again, woman, or you would wish you were never born." Mia blanched visibly. Leander was glad. She would never suspect that his words were empty threats. After all, she only knew the side of him that killed -- and killed ruthlessly at that. His other side -- that compassionate, loving, caring side -- that was the side hidden from almost every eye... "Are you not going to ask me about the traitor?" Leander threw Mia a dark look. "That was part of your lie. Daphne was never sold by any of my comrades." "That may be true," Mia agreed, shrugging, "but that does not mean that there is no traitor in your camp." The general tensed, searching Mia's eyes for a hint that would tell him if she was playing him or not. She seemed to be serious about this. Besides, a lie was the last thing that would be in any person's mind when she has just received a death threat like the one he just gave. "Tell me what you know," he ordered the woman. "I know nothing," Mia said, shaking her head. "But keep your eyes open, General. Daphne wanted me to give you the warning about a possible traitor. I am merely following her orders." "Tell me everything that Daphne told you!" Leander demanded, more annoyed now than ever. First, she left him, and now she was warning him of a traitor in his camp? What the hell was Daphne trying to do? Mia shook her head again. "I am sorry, General, but that is everything she said." He watched as the woman bowed her head hastily and left him alone. Leander picked up a nearby rock and hurled it hard a few feet away from the fire. He was mad -- mad and confused and in pain. He wanted Daphne in front of him so that he could punish her for what she was putting him through. Why did he allow that ungrateful woman to toy with his feelings, anyway? As if being taunted by fate, he remembered Anthony's warning about being devoured by a she-wolf. Begrudgingly, Leander admitted to himself that Anthony had been right: it was a big mistake, indeed, to mess with a female wolf. ***** Daphne gazed out of the window, watching as the darkness outside was broken by light coming from torches. The Duke of Northcove's guards were always attentive, especially during these times, when the kingdom was at war. And here she was, dragging that war into the duchy when the duke has decided to remain neutral. But it was worth a try to ask the duke to break his neutrality. So many lives depended on it, and Daphne knew that she could not just stand and watch as killings after killings took place. She was a born Wildercross, and those of her family were not designed to stand idle when all the world was moving restlessly around them. Footsteps sounded down the hall, heading straight to where she was. Daphne knew that the duke was coming, yet she did not turn around, even after she heard the door being opened so that the man could walk into the room. Perhaps not the most polite of greetings when she came here to rally his help, but Daphne was too preoccupied with thinking about how to go about asking for the favour to actually care. "I hope that the servants did not withhold anything that shall be of service to you, my lady?" Daphne tensed. This voice -- deep, beautiful, seductive -- was not the Duke of Northcove's. Instantly, she whirled around, a frown on her face. The person standing before her was indeed not the man she was expecting. She was expecting a man in his fifties to come and talk to her; instead, she was face-to-face with someone twenty years or so younger. She studied the man's countenance, a blush rushing to her face. He was a man of power, built like a seasoned warrior, with the face that reflects manly beauty. His brown eyes smiled at her, even though his lips were not curved up. Daphne's blush deepened. "M -- my lord," she stammered, curtsying deeply. 'Gods,' she thought, biting her lower lip. 'Not him...' The man's sexy laughter echoed inside the room, making Daphne flinch. It was the duke's heir -- Lord Gabriel Northcove, the man who was supposed to be her husband of two years had she not run away from the marriage their parents arranged. "Come, Daphne," Gabriel said good-naturedly, holding out a hand for Daphne to take. "No need to be very formal now, do we?" Even though she did not want to, Daphne gave him her hand to kiss. If his father wanted him to talk to her, then, so be it. What did it matter now? Gabriel has been married for more than a year to a very wealthy heiress. He would not make her life miserable now, would he? "How can I be of service to you?" he asked, leading her to sit by the fireplace. "Has your father not said anything to you?" she asked. Gabriel smiled bitterly. "My father died six weeks ago, Daphne." Daphne was surprised. She never heard of the news. Then again, Elgeshore was at war and Northcove remained in peace. If news of the death had spread, Elgeshoran and Thersalian camps would try their hardest to recruit the new duke to their side. All of these registered on Daphne's mind, but they did not concern her much. Although Gabriel's father had been kind to her and her aunt, Daphne only saw him four or five times, and only briefly. What concerned her more was the fact that the man she was talking to was now the Duke of Northcove. "Are you well?" Gabriel asked, frowning as he sat beside Daphne on the loveseat by the fire. "Yes," Daphne whispered, shaking her head. "I am sorry for your loss." "You are very kind," Gabriel said, smiling at her. "But now is not the time to talk about this. One day, we shall sit by the fire to drink wine and discuss such a thing, but for now, I want you to tell me what I can do for you." Daphne nodded, proceeding on giving him the details of what she had come there to talk about. Gabriel's eyes did not leave her face for even a second, making blood rush up her cheeks again. Was he listening to her? Did he even care about what she was saying? "I see," he said as soon as Daphne finished talking, slightly moving towards her, tracing circles on her palm. "What do I get in return for helping you?" She swallowed, not liking the way he was touching her. "What do you demand?" As soon as she saw the dark look in his eyes, Daphne realized that it was not the right question to ask. "You, Daphne," he answered softly, bringing her hand to his lips. "I do not forget that you ran away from me." A very unsavoury taste settled under her tongue. Daphne wanted nothing else but to take off and run back to Leander, but she knew she could not do that. She would not be the last person to attempt asking for Northcove to join the battle on his or her side. "You have a wife, Gabriel," she said, desperate to find something that might dissuade him from pursuing this goal. "A wife merely taken out of convenience and for her wealth," he said, smiling at her. "That could have been me had I not run away from you," Daphne said before she could even give a thought to it. Gabriel chuckled. "Ah, no. Marrying you would have been highly profitable, but you, my lady, would surely have been more than a convenience. You have a fire in you that is lacking in my present consort." He began lightly stroking her wrists, sending unwanted shivers down Daphne's spine. "A fire of passion that only a skilled lover knows how to -- " "Your Grace!" Daphne's face was beet red as she was scandalized to hear him talk thus. "I do not want to hear it. I refused to be your wife. What makes you think that I shall agree to be your mistress?" "Not a mistress exactly if that proves to be too much for you," he said smoothly as his fingers started playing with Daphne's hair. "One night will suffice, as long as you make certain that I am satisfied.' 'Leander will kill me,' Daphne thought, shaking her head. Ignoring her reaction, the duke planted a teasing kiss on her neck, instantly making Daphne stiffen on her seat. Gabriel was not undesirable -- in fact, he was a man to die for -- but Daphne's blood was singing for another man, her body aching for another's touch. "Please," she said softly, biting her lip to stop her voice from shaking. "Anything... anything but this, Gabriel." To her surprise, Gabriel chuckled, his breath warm on her neck. He placed her hand on his powerful leg. "So, a man has finally captured the heart of my runaway bride?" Daphne faced him, frowning deeply, ignoring the erection on his lap. "Pardon me?" Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 05 Gabriel still chuckled, patting her hand. "And here I was thinking that a mischievous girl like you can never be commanded by any man." He rose from the loveseat and smiled down at her. "Very well. I shall amuse you. I give you leave to do anything you wish. Do as your heart desires; I will faithfully back you up." She was just about to thank him when Gabriel added, "But if anything goes wrong -- anything at all, Daphne... I will have your head." Daphne nodded, confident in her plans. "As you wish, Your Grace." The young duke helped her to her feet, staying way too close, but Daphne refused to point that out lest he changed his mind. "Will you grant me the right to kiss you, though, my lady?" he asked softly, his eyes burning with desire. It was the least she could give him. Daphne stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, but Gabriel deftly manoeuvred her so that he could kiss her lips instead. What was supposed to be a brief kiss quickly became heated as passions ran high and Gabriel took control. Yet, even as her body yielded, Daphne's mind was asking her to push the duke away. His tongue pushed into her mouth, tasting her sweetness. Daphne groaned at the back of her throat, not denying the pleasure that the kiss was giving her. Still, she managed to put her hand on his chest, gently pushing Gabriel away until his tongue stopped their relentless pursuit. "Are you sure you do not want this?" Gabriel asked, his voice husky with desire. Daphne shook her head, knowing that she might be tortured by her body tonight, but that she would never forgive herself for sleeping with another man when she has already freely given both body and heart to the man who has watched over her from afar since she was a babe. "Let me walk you to your room, then," he offered, adjusting his clothes so that his erection would not be too obvious. They walked arm in arm in silence down the hall and up the stairs, with two of the duke's guards closely following. When they were already in front of the door, Daphne finally thanked him. "Do not thank me until you have realized all your goals," Gabriel said, smiling at her. "I still have an axe hanging over your head until then." She nodded, knowing the truth of his words. "Have a good night, Your Grace." Gabriel bowed to her and kissed her hand. "You, too, my lady. And if ever you change your mind, you need only to approach a guard and ask where I am." A soft blush coloured her cheeks even though she was aware that the guards would not know what it was that the duke meant. She once again thanked him, receiving the kiss he placed on her forehead, before she retreated to the sanctuary of her room. As soon as she was able to lock the door, Daphne shed off her clothes. Desire has staked its claim on her body again, but there was no Leander to ease her pain for her. Not for the first time that day, she wished that she had never left him. He introduced her to physical pleasure, and Daphne was afraid that she would always yearn for it -- but only from him. Whimpering like a defeated child, she threw herself in the middle of the bed, lying face-down. She closed her eyes to imagine Leander's face close to hers, his hard body beneath hers, his hands on her hips. Daphne moaned, feeling pleasure pooling between her legs, lubricating a passage where no cock would visit tonight. Determined that she should lessen the ache she was feeling, Daphne rolled over to lie on her back. Still with eyes closed, she began stroking her body. It was easy to imagine Leander watching her as she played with herself, touching the private parts that only he was allowed to ever explore. Placing a hand between her thighs, Daphne began stroking gently along her folds, feeling her slick wetness. Her face burned with embarrassment, for this was the first time that she would relieve the nagging ache herself, and even with -- or perhaps because of -- Leander's image in her mind, she proceeded hesitantly. She bit her lips, moaning, as she let two fingers tease her clit, the way that Leander would do every time he played with her before he claims her wholly. With the other hand, Daphne caressed her breast, pinching a pebble-hard nipple. Her ministrations only increased the demands of her body, so that, after a few minutes, Daphne was already sliding two fingers in and out of her -- something that she never imagined ever doing to herself. While doing this, she continued to play with her clit, until she cried out in pleasure and collapsed on the bed. Reaching her climax should have satisfied her, but as soon as her breathing calmed down and her body lost its demanding heat, she shivered, feeling so cold. Slipping between the sheets, she curled up in a ball, sobbing. Never in her life had she ever felt so alone -- or so empty. ***** As soon as it began, Daphne knew it to be a dream. She was back in her father's ducal estate, strolling in the garden as the sun kissed the first blossoming flowers of that early morning. Serene calm enveloped her soul, yet she knew that this was not the life she wanted; this was not the life she belonged to. She continued her walk, increasingly panicky after every step she took. Where was he? He was supposed to be there, waiting for her. He promised he would come! Now afraid of the peace that her station in life easily afforded her, Daphne began running, not knowing where exactly she was heading. Anywhere, as long as it was away from this virtual world of peace. Anywhere, as long as he was there. And she found him, standing outside the gates, sitting astride his magnificent black stallion. Her heart leaped inside her chest, and she found herself running towards him. But his blue eyes were cold as they watched her, his face a mask of unforgiving indifference. "Leander," Daphne whispered his name, running after him even as he turned his horse around. "Wait... Wait for me!" She ran after him, as fast as her legs allowed. But feet were not designed to outrun horse's hooves, and she watched helplessly as horse and man vanished along the horizon, leaving her shivering in the middle of the burned village where she used to live with her aunt. Heartbroken, Daphne turned around, choked in tears, only to find Leander glaring at her angrily. Daphne's insides grew cold, as she did not know how to deal with this furious general. She found herself stepping backward, away from him, until she tripped on something and fell -- Onto his bed, the one he shared with her in his camp. Daphne looked down at herself and was shocked to find her clothes gone. Leander advanced towards her, still looking like a furious god ready to exact retribution upon a mere mortal. Daphne whimpered, turning her back on him and attempting to crawl away. But Leander caught her by the ankles, dragging her back to the edge of the bed. Daphne felt his erection pressing against the back of her thigh, and she moaned, partly due to fear and partly due to passion. "Leander, please," she found herself begging, although she knew not what she was begging him for. For him to release her or to claim her? He thrust his hard member inside her, earning a cry from Daphne. God, it hurt! She was not even prepared! Yet, as soon as he was inside, as soon as he was moving in and out of her, Daphne felt nothing but pleasure -- unadulterated pleasure that only he could give her. She gasped his name aloud, unable to stop the wave of passion that claimed her body as she collapsed on the bed, writhing in pleasure. Her merciless lover did not seem to notice as he continued thrusting into her in a fast rhythm. Her orgasm has not yet ended before another one took her. Daphne cried out loud once more, her fingers clutching on the sheets beneath her. She felt his fingers seeking her bud of pleasure as he continued moving in and out of her, and as soon as he found it, Daphne was once again taken over the edge. It was only a second after that that Daphne sat up on the bed, gasping for breath. Her cunt was aching so much that she did not know what to do to ease her pain. She was perspiring heavily as the sheets that was supposed to be keeping her out of the cold were uselessly wound around her waist. Looking around, she realized that she was inside the chamber that the Duke of Northcove assigned to her as a guest in his palace. With a sob, she let herself fall back on the bed, closing her eyes. She could not do this. One night without Leander and she felt as though she would die. No, this could not go on for much longer. She needed to see him, to be with him, to be loved by him. She had to do something to put her plans into action much, much sooner than planned. Admitting that she would not be able to fall back to sleep, she slipped out of the bed and started putting on the nightgown she was supposed to have put on the night before. She looked for a quilt and found one, wrapping it around herself before walking out of the room. She had to talk to Gabriel and tell him of the change of plans. Gods, she should have thought about this before she ran off and away from Leander. Bitterly, Daphne thought that this served her right for not caring to explain anything to the general. So much for trying to get away from him; she needed him way too much. And for her betrayal, this should be her punishment -- the harshest punishment that she would ever have to endure. As she walked after a guard to the duke's bedchamber, she prayed that Gabriel would behave and keep his hands to himself as she was in a very vulnerable, easily-seducible state. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 06 Oil lamps lit every hallway in the Duke of Northcove's palace. As Daphne followed the guard to the duke's bedchamber, she took note of this, and concluded that, perhaps, every duke in this world was like that. Her own father kept his palace as bright as this at night. She has been told by a maid earlier that the duchess was not in the palace at all. Gabriel Northcove sent his wife back to her parents in the neighbouring kingdom as soon as the war began, even though the duchy was not under threat. Daphne wondered if his wife's absence was the reason why Gabriel wanted her on his bed tonight. Then again, he must have a mistress or two. As Northcove mentioned the night before, his bride was chosen for convenience. Money, power, name -- those were enough reasons for a nobleman to marry a woman he did not particularly like, sometimes even a woman he has not even met before their betrothal. After the marriage, the wife's only duty to her husband was to give him an heir; he might look for sexual satisfaction elsewhere, hence, the mistresses. When the guard finally stopped in front of a huge oak door, Daphne's heart started beating rapidly. Was it a good idea to talk to Gabriel at this hour of the day -- two hours before sunrise? Or should she wait a while longer before talking to him? "We are here, my lady," the guard told her. "The duke's private chambers." Swallowing hard, Daphne tried to smile. Perhaps, she was acting rashly; perhaps, she should wait. "I changed my mind. I shall talk to the duke later, when the sun is already up." Although the guard's face did not betray his thoughts, Daphne knew by the way his eyes laughed that he guessed what it was that the lady was afraid of. With her face burning, Daphne raised her chin higher, as if she did not recognize the laughter in the man's eyes. "As you wish, my lady," the guard said, slightly smiling at her as if she were a child asking for the moon. Before they could move from the spot, however, the great doors opened and out walked a lovely woman with tan skin and honey-coloured hair. She flashed a small, shy smile to Daphne, curtsying, before hastily walking away. Daphne was too shocked to even respond to the woman. She was aware of the possiblity of a mistress, but to see the woman with her own eyes...? The duke's chuckle interrupted her thoughts. "I see that you have changed your mind, my lady." Daphne's already red face flushed even redder. "Y - your Grace." She cleared her throat in an attempt to stop herself from stammering. "I changed my mind, indeed, but not regarding your proposal late last night." Gabriel's grin was too annoying. With a nod of dismissal to the guard, he swung the door open for Daphne. "Come in and let me entertain you inside." She shook her head, wishing the guard back as the man walked away. "Your Grace is too kind, but I shall not want to abuse your kindness. Please, go back to your sleep and I shall be back later, at which time we shall talk." Much to her chagrin, Gabriel actually laughed and waited until the guard was out of sight before speaking to her. "Tell me the truth, Daphne. You are afraid of my powers of seduction, are you not?" Incensed, Daphne raked her eyes over the duke from head to toe. He looked glorious, indeed, as he stood there with only a sorry piece of blanket around his waist. Her eyes were full of haughty dismissal, however, when she looked up to his face again. "Excuse me? Do you think me an easy catch even after the way I ran away from you two years ago?" A very amused Gabriel leaned against the door frame and lifted an eyebrow. "No, indeed not. But you were such an innocent girl back then, unacquainted with the physical pleasures of male and female union. But now...?" Daphne almost slapped him. Instead, she faced the challenge he posed and walked into the room, brushing against him as she did so. Gabriel was chuckling as he closed the door behind him, before following Daphne. "You are very much like your father," he commented when they were safely inside his bedchamber. He gestured for Daphne to sit on the couch beside the fireplace. "Seeking audience at the most ungodly of hours." "In case you have forgotten, I decided to come back later," Daphne said, refusing to take a seat. "Which will be such a waste of time, seeing that you are already here," Gabriel said, shrugging as he threw away the blanket covering his private part, revealing a semi-erect cock. Daphne's face reddened as she averted her gaze. Truly, this man had no shame! "Allow me to make a guess as to why you are here," Gabriel told her when she said nothing. He walked behind her and gently peeled off the quilt from around her shoulders. "You need to rush your plans so that you can be back in Van Halen's arms soon." Although much provoked, Daphne said nothing. As she felt Gabriel's palms lightly stroking her upper arms, she silently cursed herself. Yes, it was really a bad idea to try talking to him at this hour of the day... "Am I right, Daphne?" Gabriel asked as he stood behind the woman, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close until Daphne could feel his erection pressing on her backside. "Yes," she answered, feeling very uncomfortable yet not daring to move away. "And don't you think that is too much to ask?" came his whisper on her ear. Daphne shivered. "Your plans are risky enough without the hastiness. What made you think that I shall agree to this...modification?" Even though her heart was wildly racing inside her chest, Daphne tried to calm down. "It is not as if being with Leander sooner is my only motivation for asking you to quickly put the plan under way." "Yet, it is the main reason why you cannot rest easy," Gabriel said softly as he bent down to kiss Daphne's shoulder. "You need him beside you, because you cannot function well without him." The truth of his words hit Daphne hard, but she did not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his knowledge bothered her. So, in a haughty voice, she asked, "So what?" Gabriel chuckled and turned her around so that they could stare into each other's eyes. "Convince me, Daphne, to act upon this hasty plan of yours. I must warn you, however, that I am done amusing you by granting you leave to use my army for your heroic endeavours. If you should try to convince me, then do it so that I have something in it for me." "What do you want?" Daphne asked in a neutral tone. The duke smirked. "You know what I want." "Anything but me," she said. "Anything but you?" Gabriel chuckled as he stepped away from her and began pacing the floor slowly. "That translates to 'anything or nothing.'" He paused, looking at her with narrowed eyes. "What if I ask for Van Halen's head in return for all the favours I grant you?" Daphne turned to look at him, glaring in both anger and fear. "You cannot do that." "What stops me from doing it?" asked the duke, stopping his march. "Nothing." "You bastard," croaked Daphne, knowing that she has been cornered. The sound of Gabriel's chuckle was an insult added to injury. "Look who's talking." Daphne wanted nothing more than to fly at him and kill him at that moment. His last comment was meant to remind her that she was the illegitimate child of the Duke of Wildercross. Her mother was her father's mistress long before the duke married, and Daphne was the fruit of their liaison. Although her father treated her as if she was not born out of wedlock, everybody knew that Daphne was his love child. "I will never regret running away from my arranged marriage to you," she said bitterly as she wondered whether to undress or not. "You are the most heartless person I have ever met." "Really?" Gabriel's eyes shone with mischief as he looked at Daphne. "What do you think of your father, then?" She refrained from taking his bait this time. The Duke of Wildercross held the reputation of being the cruellest of all the Thersalian nobles -- perhaps even of all the noblemen from the surrounding kingdoms. Yet, to her, the duke was nothing but a father -- indifferent at times, but always looking after her well-being. Although she might not love him, she respected him -- respected him enough not to say anything against him. Gabriel walked to the bed and sat there, watching Daphne's reaction. Her face was pale, her eyes full of dread, so that, for a moment, Gabriel felt bad about asking her to give herself up to him in exchange for Leander Van Halen's safety. But he could not look at Daphne and not want to bed her -- not after he held her in his arms and felt her responding to his kiss the night before. "What do you think, Daphne?" he asked, undressing her with his eyes. "Shall I give a reward to whoever can give me your beloved general's head?" "Curse you, Gabriel," hissed Daphne as she clenched her fists. The duke just shrugged and held out a hand. "Your choice, my lady." 'Choice?' Daphne exclaimed inside as she walked across the room towards Gabriel. 'I have a choice in this matter?' As soon as she was close, Gabriel pulled her down to his lap, where Daphne stiffly sat, hating the feel of his cock pressing against her thigh. The duke brushed her hair away from her neck and started showering the exposed part with kisses. When Daphne felt one of his hands cupping her breast, she bit back her whimper of humiliation. Gabriel stroked her breast lightly until Daphne's nipple hardened. With a soft chuckle, he proceeded on rolling the tip between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it hard from time to time. Every time pain would shot through her body due to that pinching, Daphne could not help but gasp, which seemed to delight the duke as his erection grew. Much to Daphne's dismay, her body was reacting to his touch. She could feel heat rolling down her womb, oozing out of her sweet sex. However much her mind refused to succumb to the tentative pleasure of being held by another man, her body knew what it wanted, paying no heed to Daphne's feelings. The duke undressed her and deposited her in the middle of his bed. Daphne closed her eyes, not wanting to see his face. Perhaps then she could pretend that it was not him -- that it was Leander whose touch put her body on fire. She felt his mouth on her bare breast, planting kisses on her burning skin. His tongue then flicked to her nipple, eliciting another gasp. She closed her eyes more tightly, not wanting to acknoweldge the pleasure that Gabriel was giving her. When his hand began stroking her wet folds, Daphne bit her lips as guilt washed over her. She remembered all the times Leander took her and told her that she was his alone -- that his world revolved around her. She remembered the way Leander held her -- full of care, of love. And then, what? She would allow this man to touch her? God, she would never forgive herself! "Gabriel, please!" she blurted out, rolling on the bed and onto her stomach so that she could escape his attentions. She burst out crying, burying her face on the pillow. "I can't do this!" The duke stared at her, surprise registered on his face. "You cannot do this? Even for him?" "I cannot do this because of him," Daphne said, pleading with her eyes when she looked at him. "I cannot break his trust, Gabriel. Please, ask anything of me but this." A groan sounded at the back of Gabriel's throat, but he pulled the blanket up to cover Daphne's body before he got out of bed. "Then, go to sleep, my lady, and rest assured that I shall keep my words and do nothing to General Van Halen, lest I aggravate you." Biting her lips, Daphne closed her eyes. "Thank you." "You are way, way tougher than I gave you credit for." She could almost hear a smile in the duke's voice. "Now, just take a rest. I shall do what I can for you." Daphne opened her eyes and looked at Gabriel. He was reaching for a robe for himself. His erection was still prominent, making Daphne blush. "Are you going to be all right?" Gabriel realized what she was pertaining to and chuckled. "I have a mistress in the house since Thea is with her parents. I will be all right." "Thank you for your understanding," she said lamely. The new duke laughed as he walked towards the door. "I am merely acting upon a deathbed order I received from my father." He looked back at her and smiled. "Take care of you as I see fit." "Why would he do that?" Daphne asked. "You know that your aunt and my father were lovers, did you not?" Gabriel asked, smiling. Daphne did not know, but she only smiled back at Gabriel. Only when she was alone in the room did she realize how exhausted she was. As she drifted off to sleep, she murmured a prayer of thanks to Gabriel's father. -------------------------------------------------- Gabriel walked along the palace halls, heading for his mistress' bedroom. Sara would not be pleased to see him very early in the morning, especially when he has asked for Helen the night before, but the duke could not force himself on Daphne when the lady was crying, and now, he badly needed someone to take care of his angry member. He once again cursed himself for being under his father's command even when the old man was already in his grave. Then again, the former Duke of Northcove had been a powerful man. 'Pity,' Gabriel thought, remembering Daphne's beautiful golden-green eyes and slender body. 'If only she had not run away...' It was his father's greatest dream that he should be married to the eldest daughter of the Duke of Wildercross. Not for power, not for wealth, not even for love. The old man only said that Gabriel needed a firm guiding hand, and Daphne would be that and more. When Gabriel first met Daphne, he was certain that his father was wrong. Still, he decided to take her as his bride if only to follow his father's orders. Now, as he remembered Daphne's plans, he realized how right his father had been. The lady was one hell of a catch. Wildercross' daughter through and through, she shared the duke's cunning and strength of will. Already, she fit his idea of a bride. And more than that, she was faithful -- so faithful that she would not even consider sleeping with him even when he has threatened to kill the man she loved. Gabriel found himself shaking his head, a smile plastered on his lips. Yes, she would have been his ideal wife. Both hard and soft on the inside, she would forever intrigue him. Not that he thought he stood a chance of ever winning her heart when it was already won by another. Besides, he was already married, and Daphne would never consider being a mistress. She deserved more than that, after all. There was, however, another way of having Daphne close so that she could still be the firm guiding hand that his father wished Gabriel to have. He only needed to discuss it with the general she was heart and soul into, and perhaps with the Duke of Wildercross. Sara was already up when he entered her assigned room. She was sitting on the bed, looking annoyed, and his presence in the chamber did nothing to improve her mood. When he took off the robe and she saw his erect member, a frown marred her beautiful features. "I need you, my love," he said as he strode closer to her. She would never deny him, although she would most likely throw hurtful words his way when all these was over. Gabriel didn't mind; he was used to that. That was the main reason why he would ask for another mistress when he would rather be with Sara; Sara was always irked by his choice, and would remind him why she was the best mistress he ever had. Standing up, she received the kiss he offered, her tongue darting inside his mouth and ravishing him. Always, Sara was as demanding as this. No word spoken, no question asked, she would introduce him to pleasure the way that no other woman ever did. The acidic reproach would come later, when his desire was satiated. A few more minutes, and her mouth was kissing its way down his body as her hands further spread the fire in his groin. Gabriel watched as Sara went down on her knees in front of him, holding his cock and licking it from base to tip. Her eyes met his, and there was a mischievous glint in them as she took his cock in her mouth. Her game has began. Gabriel groaned, loving the warmth and wetness as Sara began pleasuring him through her mouth. Immediately, thoughts of the desirable young woman he left in his chamber fled from his mind, along with the demands she exacted. The hell with this war. Gods, life was meant to be good. -------------------------------------------------- Sitting astride his horse, Leander fixed his gaze on the eastern horizon, watching as the sun broke free of the confines of darkness. His blue eyes were hard as he perceived the slow coming of the day, as if he blamed the world itself for the pain he was feeling. He hardly found sleep the night before. So consumed was he in his thoughts about how to get Daphne back that his mind refused to allow him rest. Gods, what he would do when he sees her again! He had avoided being rough on any woman before, but he could imagine himself breaking his self-imposed rule when he claims her back. 'Damn that woman,' he thought, frowning at the slowly-peeking-out sun. 'I probably should have tied her down...' But the image of Daphne bound by ropes and struggling to free herself triggered an unwelcome reaction from him. He had known her long enough to know that she would plead herself out of those bounds, that she would wriggle and slither to free herself. Just thinking about what she would do, how she would sound like, how she would look like, already aroused the general. Everything about Daphne seemed to reduce him to a sex-deprived man wanting to claim a virgin. Disgusted by the way his body was reacting to mere thoughts of Daphne, Leander urged his horse to return to the camp. There was no use thinking about her right now. She was probably sleeping comfortably in one of the rooms of the duke's palace, dreaming sweet dreams now that she has finally found her way away from him. He could not really understand her. What was she trying to prove by running away, anyway? That she could live without him? That she did not need him? Fair enough. It was very much like Daphne to flee the moment Leander has his back turned. It was very much like her to deny herself the pleasures that her life brings, as long as she could be free. But he would find her and keep her for himself. To hell with bringing her back to her mother! Daphne needed to be taught a lesson and Leander would make sure that she learns it properly -- from him. The camp was beginning to stir itself awake when he arrived. Leander immediately headed straight for his tent, wanting nothing more than to have a swim in the river before he met up with Anthony and the rest of his officers. He would send someone to the duke and politely ask for Daphne back. Not that he thought the duke would budge that easily. The old man was known for his penchant for sticking to his principles, and if he gave his words to Daphne that he would keep her, then no amount of coaxing would make him give her up -- the way that no amount of coaxing made him enter this war. Leander winced when he entered the tent and saw Sylvia proudly standing naked on the carpeted ground. She lifted an eyebrow at him and put her hands on her hips as she did so. This was one of the other reasons why he chose to be awake all night. "You did not sleep," Sylvia stated the obvious. "Where did you expect me to sleep when you were parading around naked inside my tent?" he asked, frowning at her as he walked to the trunk that contained his clothes. "Anthony sent me to entertain you last night," Sylvia said, sitting on the bed. "He said you would be lonely now that Daphne is gone." Leander glowered at her for speaking Daphne's name aloud. That was one name nobody has mentioned while the general was at earshot. "That still does not mean that I need somebody to give me a fuck. Daphne is not my whore. She means more than that to me." Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 06 "What exactly is she to you?" Sylvia asked, feigning indifference, although Leander knew her well enough to know that she cared. A lot. The general did not feel the need to tell her. It was not as if Sylvia's knowledge would help. Instead, he retrieved fresh clothes from the trunk and threw his armour to the bed. "I hear rumours that she is of noble blood," Sylvia continued, not dissuaded. "How true is that?" His patience was running thin. He had not slept all night long and he would have to put up with an interview very early in the morning? "I advise you to leave the tent as soon as you are dressed," Leander growled. "I do not wish to find you here when I come back." Sylvia grinned at him and stood up from the bed, posing to show off her goods. There was a time when Leander would have welcomed the display of her brazen wantonness and immediately take avail of what was being offered, but not anymore. "You do not scare me, Leander," Sylvia said, a reminder of the years they had known each other. "I know that you will not even lay a finger on me however angry you get. Why don't you stay here and let me take care of you? Your grumpiness is not amusing." With a heavy sigh, Leander turned his back to the woman. There was no use talking to her, as she would never listen to him, anyway. He sensed it, however, when Sylvia walked close to him and stood right behind him. When he turned to face her, she pulled his head down to hers and engaged him in a crushing kiss. When she ended the kiss, Sylvia pierced Leander with an angry glare. "Never deny me again, Leander. It is a big insult to have a snivelling girl like Daphne replace me on your bed. I know how to please you and if you cannot admit that to yourself, then at least let me demonstrate my skills." "I need to do no such thing," Leander said coldly, pushing her away with as much self-control as he could muster. Her insult of Daphne did not escape his ears. "Never set foot into my tent again, Sylvia, or you will find a general you never thought existed." The woman grinned at him sarcastically, her eyebrows raised high on her forehead. "Are you threatening me?" Leander did not say anything more, but stared at her with a cold look in his eyes. He watched as Sylvia's blood rushed off her face when she realized that he was serious. She quickly gathered her garments and dressed herself, before leaving Leander alone in his tent. 'She better leaves me alone,' Leander thought as he strode out of his tent a few minutes later, heading for the river. -------------------------------------------------- Anthony frowned as he has finished listening to Mia. He must say, the woman was crazy, but then, what she told him made sense. "Look into it, my lord," Mia said, bowing her head to him. The woman left as quickly as she had come, leaving Anthony alone. Once again, he looked at the letter that Mia claimed was from Daphne. It bore Northcove's seal, and Daphne signed it, but there was no telling if that was really her signature unless he showed it to Leander so that the general could verify. Who could be more familiar to Daphne's handwriting than her faithful stalker? But what were the implications if the contents of the letter were true? Thersale was on the losing side of this war, which was hard to believe. And if Daphne was once again tricking them? Anthony did not want to know. "Ah well," he said to himself as he refolded the letter. "This is Leander's headache, not mine." Yet, the letter was addressed to him. If Daphne had wanted Leander to know, wouldn't she just write to the general? Torn, Anthony stared at the letter again. "What do I do now, you cunning she-wolf?" he asked, imagining Daphne's face. Annoyed that the woman should use him in her game, Anthony lit a candle and began destroying the letter. Whatever happened -- whether the letter was authentic or not, it would not be seen in his possession. As soon as he had reduced the letter to ashes, Sylvia walked into his tent, wearing a frown on her pretty face. Anthony tried not to grimace but failed. "What is that?" the woman asked without preamble, walking over to the table beside which stood Anthony. When she saw the ashes, she raised an eyebrow and looked at the man. "A letter," Anthony answered, watching Sylvia's reaction carefully, "from a very faithful correspondent." The woman averted her eyes, touching the ashes with the tip of her forefinger. "It never came to my attention that you are in correspondence with a woman." "Now you know," he said with a shrug. "How can I serve you, Sylvia?" "Leander is in a very sour mood," she said, sighing as she returned her gaze to him. "It seems that he does not want me around him anymore." 'Cannot blame the man,' Anthony thought, further wondering what it was about Sylvia that made him dislike her. This was the only woman he met whom he did not even want to consider bedding, and not only because she was Leander's exclusive mistress for more than four years. "Will you speak to him?" Sylvia asked. "Yes," he answered, eager to have her out of his tent. The lie that followed came easily. "And I shall advise him not to evoke your wrath by being a sour man." Sylvia flashed him a smile that could instantly put most men under her spell. "Thank you." Anthony knew better than to think that the woman liked him. He knew that Sylvia generally disliked the people who were close to the general, most especially Daphne and him. But the woman tried to be civil, if only not to displease Leander. There were these rumours that reached his ears, passed on to him by the many spies he paid from every corner of the camp and every village where Leander left some of their warriors. Anthony had always discarded them as mere rumours, never considering them important enough to tell Leander. But now... Sylvia exchanged a few more banters with him before finally leaving. As soon as she was gone, Anthony frowned and looked at the ashes of what was supposedly Daphne's letter. It was starting to irk him. With a sigh, he finally decided to talk to his best friend. He was told that the general was bathing in the river, and Anthony purposefully followed him there. "I assume that you are here to apologize for telling Sylvia to come to my tent," his friend growled as soon as he arrived. Anthony grinned. "Wish to the devil if you dare, but you shall never hear the apology." Leander merely shook his head, not bothering to wade out of the water. "So, what brings you here?" "Have you received any instruction from the Duke of Wildercross?" he asked. It was easy to guess Leander's answer, but Anthony needed to hear it spoken nonetheless. "No, nothing from the duke yet. I am starting to think that he has abandoned us." A chill went through Anthony's body, although he did not let his friend see it. Daphne's letter, and now this ominous comment. Were they being sold to the Elgeshorans? "In the meantime, we need to have his daughter back," he said, watching his friend with a frown. "Send me to Northcove to talk to the duke." "In your dreams," Leander replied, grinning at him. "Your interest is highly suspicious. You want Daphne out of my life and now you volunteer for the task of trying to get her back?" "You know that you do not trust another soul as much as you trust me," Anthony pushed. "Which should make me warier of your intentions," Leander commented. "I shall not be deceived, least of all by you." "You already are, you moron," Anthony laughed. "Send me to the duke and I will try talking to him." He did not wait for Leander's answer, already knowing what it would be. He left the general, heading back to his tent to prepare for his journey. Anthony asked for five of his spies, telling all of them that he needed people to accompany him to the duchy of Northcove. It was less than an hour later that Leander called him and his companions and formally announced that they would be sent northwest for a very important mission. Sitting astride his horse, Anthony decided to do one last thing that would ensure the success of the mission Daphne sent him to do. While most of the camp looked on, he called to Leander and asked, "How much do you trust me, General?" If Leander was surprised, his face did not show it. "I trust you with my life, as you should trust me with yours." Anthony chuckled as he shook his head. "This world will end, but I shall not trust any man with my life, least of all a man I grew up with and impossibly outranked me." Chuckles from the spectators made Leander grin. He extended a hand to his best friend. Anthony gripped that hand tightly and said to the general in a low voice, "I thank you for the trust, brother. My loyalty goes to you, and only to you." He paused and looked hard into his friend's eyes. "Remember that." As Leander grinned and sent him on his way, Anthony took a deep breath. Leander would have his head for this, but the letter from Daphne made sense and Anthony could only decide to follow her. He only wished that Leander's trust in the lady had not been misplaced, for it was still Leander's judgment that Anthony counted on. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 07 AUTHOR'S NOTE: The moment I looked at the calendar again, I was completely mortified! I had been running SO late on schedule that it truly scared me! Then again, that is silver_firefly when she is intent on finishing something she wants to do... :) I apologize for my tardiness, but I revised the original chapter completely! Nothing but two whole paragraphs of it remained in this version. :P Not sure if this one is better than the other one (although I, of course, think that it is), but I hope you still enjoy it. Thank you very, very much for reading 'Courting Daphne', and as before, all comments are welcome! ---------------------------------------- The back of his head was throbbing in pain. Leander tried to move his hand to touch the tender spot, but his movements were restrained by shackles around his wrists. Grunting, he tried to open his eyes, not sure what had happened to him. The first thing that he noticed was the canopy. Tried as he might, he could not remember ever seeing it before. A splitting headache hit him again. He closed his eyes, but not before he saw an insignia with two snakes and two swords. As his consciousness faded, Leander realized what it was: Northcove's coat of arms. ***** "What the hell did you do to him?" Leander heard the woman's urgent whisper the next time he woke up. He recognized the voice immediately, so he tried to pry his eyes open even though the pain on his head was still bothering him. "It was necessary," replied another familiar voice. Anthony's. The general groaned, still uncertain of past events. What happened? The last thing he remembered was waking up and seeing Northcove's insignia. If only not for her voice, he would dismiss it as part of a dream. Yet, he just heard her, and he had to know -- "Stay put, Leander," she commanded when he tried to move again. He was not listening, though. Much to his dismay, however, he could not get off the shackles that bound him to the bed. Still, he opened his eyes if only to check on her. Her eyes were filled with worry as they appraised him. He longed to make them twinkle with laughter again, yet Leander knew that he could not. Not yet. Still, just the sight of them, green with flecks of gold, seemed to uncoil the knot of apprehension in his guts. She was all right, and that was one worry less. She sat on the bed and hesitantly smiled at him. He tried to smile back but the pain in his head made him flinch instead. Then, reality kicked in. If he was in Northcove's palace, as he might be, then it would be because of Daphne -- And Anthony, who was awkwardly standing at the foot of the bed, watching Daphne and him. What was he doing there? Leander's head throbbed, evoking a hiss of pain from him. A groan sounded from Daphne, before Leander felt her head on his shoulder, her hands on his naked body. He groaned. Her scent was so inviting. Hair washed in lavender, he was sure. And her body, so soft, so close to his. Her hands, so warm on his flesh. Her voice, so silky as she whispered words of apology. Only a stone would not be aroused. Gods, how could he still want her when it was she who put him in this situation? Leander swallowed hard and closed his eyes again when he felt Daphne's lips on his shoulder. There was no denying that she could set his blood on fire; he just wished she would not do it right now, when he needed to ask her so many questions. But Providence was not on his side lately; Daphne did nothing but torture him more. Her lips moved to his neck, his jaws, his cheeks. Another groan issued forth from her lips, this time full of longing, not of worry. Leander fought the urge to respond to her, but he knew even before he heard the sound of his groan that it was a futile battle. He wanted her too much. Her fingers traced their way upwards to caress Leander's face. Every touch was so careful, so gentle, that Leander immediately opened his eyes even though the action caused him pain. Those touches reminded him of the first time he made love to Daphne, when, in her innocence, she was tentatively touching his body to explore. Daphne's face was inches away from his, and with her eyes, she was following the movement of her fingers on his cheek. When she felt him looking at her, however, she looked at him. The fire reflected in her eyes made Leander wonder if she had missed him as much as he did, after all. The kiss that she planted on his kiss was answer enough. It was full of hunger, of anticipation. Her tongue demanded passage into his mouth, passage that he readily gave as he kissed her back. Whatever she had done, she was still the woman he wanted with everything in him. He would be twice a fool -- maybe even more than that -- if it meant having her. Leander tugged at the shackles again, more frustrated with it than ever as his cock started to come alive. He wanted to hold her, touch her, see if she was as aroused as he was at the moment. "I refuse to be the audience of this," Anthony drawled. "He has to rest, Daphne." Leander had quite forgotten his friend. If Anthony did not want to see, he better leave. Yet, Daphne groaned in frustration as she pulled away from him. He would have objected had there not been a knock on the door. Both Anthony and Daphne turned as a guard entered. The man announced that the duke needed to talk to Daphne, and she left the room after hastily giving Leander a kiss on the forehead. "You look good in shackles, I must say," Anthony taunted him, grinning from ear to ear. "Damn you," Leander hissed, narrowing his eyes as his most recent memories before he woke up in this room slowly dawned on him. "You have a lot to explain to me." Anthony raised his hands as if in surrender. "Not me, General. Your woman does." After saying that, he grinned again. "She likes you. A lot. If I were not here to remind you that you were not alone and that you need to rest, she would have devoured you." "Then perhaps you should have kept your peace and let her do so as you watch," Leander said in annoyance. "Explain everything to me. Now." His friend made for the door. "Ah. No. I will leave the explaining part to Daphne. I will tell her to talk to you when she is done talking with the duke." He was just about to open the door when he looked at Leander again. "By the way. The old duke has died while Elgeshore is at war. His eldest son, the former Earl of Chantercy, now rules over Northcove, and he plans to go to war." When he was alone, Leander frowned. Chantercy? How could he have missed that? Daphne was supposed to have been Chantercy's wife had she not run away. Which meant that Northcove would choose to ally with Thersale rather than Elgeshore. But his son...? Gabriel Northcove. Was he an ally or a foe? Or was he looking at this the wrong way? Shouldn't he be wondering if Daphne was working against or for her kingdom? If the duke lets Daphne roam around while Leander was tied down, it only meant that Northcove and Daphne were in the same side. But were they in the same side as him? And Anthony? Was his best friend betraying him? His head was starting to throb painfully again. He cursed whoever it was who hit his head. What did the man use to do that, anyway? As he closed his eyes, he let his mind wander off to his last memories before waking up shackled to the bed. It started with the letter from Anthony. The damn man gave him advice to march the Black Wolves north in order to fight the Duke of Northcove's mercenaries. Anthony even advised Leander to send a letter to General Norcross, asking for reinforcements. Even though Leander doubted the wisdom of the plan, he agreed, especially after learning that the new duke was holding Daphne hostage so that the Duke of Wildercross would be loathe to moving a finger to aid Thersalians. He knew for a fact that their plans might be a suicide mission, but it was worth the try, since the lack of Wildercross' backing would mean defeat for the whole Thersalian ranks. Besides, Leander trusted his friend to do the right thing. For four days the army moved from their camp to the edge of Northcove's territory, all warriors ready to fight and die fighting. Yet, as soon as he was alone with Anthony whom he wanted to ask for answers, all Leander got was a devilish grin and a club to the head. Gods, if Anthony refused to talk, then Leander could only pray that Daphne would. He knew that there was a web of betrayal hanging over him, but he wanted to know who was weaving it and how large it had become. "Damn..." he hissed, picturing Daphne's image in his mind. "Come to me soon." ***** Gabriel watched Daphne's reaction as the lady read the letter he handed her. Her hands were slightly shaking, and when the duke realized that, he looked away. "He wants me home," she whispered after clearing her throat. He nodded. Of course, Wildercross would want his daughter home. Even after the commotion she caused when she ran away from her marriage to Gabriel. It was odd that a man with such a reputation would feel so attached to his love child. And a daughter that child was, too. As far as Gabriel knew, Wildercross did not treat his other children the same way -- not even his heir. "Your father is a strange man," he commented. "He is," Daphne agreed immediately. "And the war?" he asked. "He is with us," Daphne answered. That was all Gabriel wanted to hear. "Good." Dragging his eyes back to Daphne, he continued, "And your prisoner?" A mischievous glint appeared in Daphne's eyes when she responded. "Fine. Very, very fine." ***** Leander watched as Daphne walked around the room, lighting every candlestick and every oil lamp she could find. Either she was deathly afraid of the dark or she just did not care how much wax or oil she was using. Any other tiime and Leander would have laughed; under the current circumstances, however, he could not even smile. The pain on his head was thankfully almost non-existent now. However, he was still shackled to the bed, and Daphne would not talk to him about what was happening. She refused to answer any of the questions he threw at her when she visited him earlier. He was getting impatient. This was not how he wanted to be treated. If he only knew why he was tied down, his annoyance would not have been this great. Yet, nobody would explain anything to him. As soon as she was done doing everything she wanted to do, Daphne sat on the bed, looking thoughtfully amused. She absentmindedly placed her hand on his abs, stroking gently. Leander swallowed, not wanting the arousal he was feeling at that simple touch. He did not need her to seduce him right at the moment; he only wanted some answers. "I know it sounds awful, but seeing you tied down makes me want to laugh," Daphne said with a smile. "Oh, it sounds terrific," he said through clenched teeth. "Please, laugh as much as you want. But as soon as you are done, could you please release me so that we can talk?" Daphne's smile widened. "Why so grumpy?" "I am not grumpy," Leander replied with a frown. "I am seething with anger." "And why is that?" she asked, looking truly amused. "Well, I am very sorry," he said sarcastically. "I forget that a man whose head was clubbed when he was supposed to be having a decent conversation with his best friend, has no reason to be angry. Not even if he wakes up with throbbing pain on his head. Not even if he wakes up shackled to a bed in the palace of a man who was his foe last time he checked." "Last time I checked, Gabriel Northcove is not an enemy," Daphne said, climbing onto the bed beside him. She put her head on his bicep as she draped an arm around him. "You have got your facts wrong." Leander grimaced as the sweet scent of lavender assailed his senses. Gods, he would need to keep Daphne away from him or he would have to suffer an erection that he could not relieve. The press of her body against him was already having an effect, and it would not do him any good if she would continue to stay close. "Do me a favour," he hissed. "Let us talk, but not while I am restrained." "All right." Yet, she made no move to get out of the bed. Instead, she shifted so that she was on top of him, her head resting on his chest. "What are you doing?" Leander asked, frowning. Daphne looked up to him. "I am doing as you desire." "I said we are not talking until you have released me," he said through clenched teeth. "We are not talking," Daphne insisted, frowning at him. "Then what do you think are we doing right now?" he growled, glaring at her as best he could. A naughty smile curved her lips. "Foreplay?" He was stunned. Gods, let her mean anything but that. "What?" Daphne groaned and started kissing his neck. Leander grunted. Hell, his cock was already up. "I missed you so much," Daphne whispered on his ear as she started running her hands over his naked chest. "You won't believe just how much..." He groaned. "Daphne. Please. Stop this. This is madness." Fingers wrapped around his erect cock as she looked at him, biting her lower lip. "Yet we both want it." 'No,' he thought; how could he want this at this moment? No way he would want to fuck her when half of him was dying to strangle her for her lies and deception and for the questions she would not answer. "I do not want this," he hissed. But Daphne did not seem to care about what he wanted. Right now, it was all about her: about what she wanted, what she needed. And she would take whatever that was, especially when she was forbidden to have it; the urge to do so runs in her blood. Completely ignoring his words, she began kissing his face while her fingers lightly ran over the parts of his body that she could reach. Then, without warning, her lips came crushing down on his, soft and demanding all at the same time. In spite of himself, Leander received the kiss, trying not to think of how much he had longed for it. But -- gods! She tasted as sweet as she always had. Her tongue was fervently exploring the inside of his mouth, drinking in the taste she should know by heart by now. A groan sounded from the back of her throat when Leander's tongue met hers in a duel of passion. Whatever he said, his body knew what it wanted, and as he tried to move his arm, Leander was acutely aware that he wanted to hold her not so that he could push her away but so that he could hold her closer. "You want this," Daphne murmured when their lips parted. Leander opened his mouth to object to her statement -- to tell her that he undoubtedly wanted her, but not right now. Not when he was restrained so that he could not even touch her. Not when his head was full of unanswered questions. But Daphne put a finger over his lips to shush him. "Save it for later," she said softly, her lips already moving slowly across his jaw. "I only want you right now." "Let me go, Daphne, and I will give you what you want," he promised. She merely smiled coyly at him and slid down his body. "I can get what I want even without releasing you." Before he could even say a word to try and convince her, Daphne began licking at his nipple, her tongue moist and warm against his skin. Leander could only groan, swallowing his objections as her lips and tongue seductively moved over his body. Daphne moved lower, kissing her way down to his abdomen. Her fingers frantically moved to rid him of his breeches. Once again, Leander attempted to dissuade her from pursuing her goal even though he knew fully well that one look at his cock would announce to her and to the whole world that he was partially hoping she would not let herself be deceived by his lies. The objections sounded hollow even in his ears; he only uttered them in a vain attempt to keep himself thinking straight. Yet, who could think straight when a woman like her was making a move on him like that? As soon as his cock sprang free, he felt her fingers wrapping around the base, squeezing him gently. When he looked at her, she was watching his reaction, perhaps wondering if what she was doing all right. Leander swallowed, desperately thinking of a way to make her stop even though a bigger part of him wanted her to continue. "Daphne, please," he murmured. "Please what?" she asked, moving so that her face was directly above his crotch. Frustration ate at him as he felt her lips connecting to the head of his cock. In all the years he had watched her, he never thought that she could be this -- Evil. Gods, why would she not listen? How could she be so innocent yet so damnably sexy at the same time? When he felt her mouth wrapping around the tip of his cock, Leander resolved to stay as quiet as he could. Perhaps, if she could hear neither objection nor encouragement, she would stop being this temptress and let him keep his dignity in one piece. It was hard to do, though, as he found out when she started sucking him while a hand was pumping the base of his cock. He closed his eyes, supposedly to try to get a grip of himself, but he only managed to increase the pleasure he was feeling by concentrating not on his sense of sight but on his sense of touch. In spite of his resolution, Leander groaned. The sound only reinforced Daphne's desire to please him with her mouth and hand. She increased the pressure of her fingers and began twirling her tongue around his shaft. She was making mewing noises that only aroused him more. Before long, he was wondering why on earth he was trying to stop her, anyway. As pleasure pushed him higher and higher, Leander felt his muscles tensing for his release. Just as he was about to shoot his seeds, however, Daphne suddenly stopped. "Gods!" he hissed, acutely feeling the loss of Daphne's mouth and hand on his cock. "Daphne, please..." He watched a slow smile form on her lips as she sat on the bed, her legs crossed under her. The damn girl actually giggled! "I changed my mind," she said, tracing a lazy finger along his stomach, his chest. "I decided not to do anything that is against your will. You did not want me to do that, did you?" Leander glared daggers at her. The bitch! He was not aware that he hissed his thoughts aloud, until Daphne chuckled and bent over him again. "Am I?" she purred seductively as she nuzzled at his neck. "A bitch?" He tried to yank his arms off his shackles again, to no avail. Frustrated, he growled, "Do not let me get my hands on you, little devil. You are going to regret it if you do." Her chuckle, so much like a child's, both aroused and annoyed him. "So, you are threatening me now?" Even though she was taunting him, Daphnes still -- thankfully! -- wrapped her fingers around his rock-hard erection. She took one of his balls into her mouth and gently sucked on it as her hand vigorously pumped him. Leander gritted his teeth as a wave of pure pleasure washed over him. In no time, he felt himself stiffening again. Daphne moved her mouth to the tip of his cock, catching his seeds when he shot them out. She swallowed and moaned, sucking him until he was spent. Only then did she let go of his shaft. "You taste good," she whispered, licking her lips as she climbed on top of him, sitting on his stomach. "But I want you in me -- " "Oh, gods, please," he hissed, looking away from the sexy image that Daphne was. Clarity of mind was starting to come back to him, and he did not want her to drive it away again. "Whatever lustful spirit has possessed you must have been satisfied now. Release me and let us talk." "And if I do not want that?" she asked. Leander looked her in the eyes. "What do you want?" A sultry smile spread across her face. "You." He was getting suspicious. "Whatever happened to you?" "Oh." Daphne looked amused again as she leaned forward until her face was inches from his. "Whatever happened to you? Last time I was with you, you still wanted me." Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 07 "Last time I was with you, I was not tied down," he growled, tugging on the shackles to emphasize his point. "Just release me and then we'll talk." "And if I don't?" Daphne asked, a naughty smile on her lips. The general sighed. So, she was intent on being a pain, was she not? "Do not try my patience, Daphne," he warned through clenched teeth. Daphne giggled and adjusted her position so that she could take off her nightgown easily. "I am sorely tempted." As she pulled her dress off, she added, "In fact, I would like to try your patience. Now." Leander was too irritated to speak. He should have known -- should have guessed that the little devil would tempt him again as soon as he revealed his weakness. Even so, he could not take his eyes off her body as it was revealed to him slowly. She smiled at him sweetly, throwing her nightgown to the floor. She then leaned forward, grinding her hips closer to him, so that Leander felt his cock stirring up again. Daphne must have felt it, too, for she was soon writhing like a snake on top of him, her eyes shining with mischief and triumph as she looked at him. "If you want me to release you, you need to work hard," she murmured against his skin as she began gently biting his neck. "Maybe if I am pleased, I can give you your freedom." "What happened to the innocent girl I watched her whole life?" he groaned, tortured by her incessant seduction. "I do not want to play games, Daphne." "We are not playing games," she said. "I am trying to tell you how you would earn your liberty." He knew there was no way he could convince her not to do this. Not when she was this horny, if her erect nipples were any indication of what she was feeling. He himself was aroused, anyhow; perhaps he should just play along, hoping that she would do as she promised and talk to him when her desires were sated. "Come, then," he instructed, watching the slow dance of victory in her eyes. "Let me have what is mine." Daphne mewled, gently nibbling on his lower lip as she wantonly pressed her body against his. She rubbed her sex on his thigh, suprising Leander. She was so wet. No wonder why she would try to do anything to get him 'working'. The thought was enough to put a smile on Leander's lips, even though he would rather not take her right now. "Do you promise to release me when we are done?" he asked again, wanting confirmation. Daphne nodded readily. "I promise." At least, he could finally get out of these damned shackles. "Very well." "Tell me what to do," Daphne purred, nuzzling at his neck. "Do whatever feels right," he answered, trusting her to know whatever it was that she wanted. ***** Daphne stared at him, not sure how to proceed. She was not planning on doing this until the moment was here. She only planned to come here, talk to him, and then unshackle him. He did not plan on doing anything that she has done, or anything that she wanted to do. Yet, as soon as she was alone with him, things just seemed to happen spontaneously. Seeing him spread on the bed, half-naked, heat her up. All she wanted to do was to taste him, have him. Even if she could see that he did not want it; even if she had to blackmail him to do it. She wished she could just release him. With his hands he could bring her to the peak of pleasure much faster. Yet she knew that as soon as she let him go, he would use her desire to manipulate her. He would squeeze out every answer from her, torturing her by not giving her what she desperately wanted, needed. No, better manipulate him, get what she wanted, and then let him go so that the two of them could talk. Driven by lust, Daphne reached for her sex, letting her own juices coat her fingers. She was not aware that she was that wet, even though she knew through the ache she was feeling that her need was urgent. Tentatively, she tasted her juices, keeping her eyes locked with Leander's as she did so. Heat flooded to her cheeks as soon as she was acquainted with the flavour. "Want it?" she asked Leander shyly, placing her fingers close to his lips. Leander did not hesitate; he licked the tip of her index finger. Daphne shivered, thrilled by the contact. Without looking away from her eyes, Leander sucked the finger in. Daphne watched in awe, all the while aroused by the sensation of having her finger inside his mouth. One by one, he treated all her other fingers alike. Daphne's instinctual reaction was to kiss his lips afterwards, the taste of her own juices shared by both of them. With her hand, she reached for his erect cock, thrilled by the feel of it. Who would have thought that she would be acting like this towards a man? She herself never imagined. And yet, here she was, almost driven to madness by every second she was not with him, every moment he was not inside her. Perhaps it was wrong. She knew that Leander did not approve of it -- or, at least, his common sense was telling him not to approve of this. Daphne could tell that he was thinking about something. Retribution? Punishment? Gods, she did not care! All she wanted was him. Nothing else, nobody else. She would think of the consequences later. With that conviction, she moved so that she could guide his cock to her entrance. She did not even bother with slowness; instead, she led him all the way in. A gasp escaped her lips when she realized that he was buried to the hilt. Placing her palms on his stomach, she proceeded on riding him, slowly at first, but as her passion and need built up, she increased the rhythm until she was practically bouncing up and down Leander's body. Desperate to reach her climax, she pressed two fingers down her clit, shrieking when it came. Desire at last sated, Daphne moaned in relief, leaning forward with eyes closed until her forehead touched Leander's chest. Not quite forgetting that Leander was still hard as rock inside her, she continued to rock her body back and forth, riding him slowly until she felt his seeds erupting inside her womb. After that, she sighed, revelling in the feeling of being one with him. She stayed on top of him for the next few minutes, waiting until both of their heartbeats subsided to normal, until both of them were not breathing raggedly anymore. She felt him shrinking inside her, and Daphne gladly let him go. Slowly, she rose from on top of him, kissing his lips and whispering loving words as she reached under his pillow for the key to the shackles that kept him tied down. When she found the key, she finally released his wrists, sighing as Leander reached for her and pulled her down for another kiss. He rolled her onto the bed, his hands exploring her body as his tongue explored her mouth. Daphne groaned, loving the way he was stroking her naked, sweat-covered skin. He held her wrists lightly, pulling them up so that she could snake her arms around his neck. Leander then moved his mouth away from her mouth and trailed kisses down her face to her neck, to her ears, nibbling gently on her earlobe as his carefully unwound her arms. She was so lost in the sensations his caresses were bringing her, that Daphne did not care much about what was happening anymore. Her eyes only snapped open when she heard the click of metal against metal, and the sound of Leander's soft chuckle. Leander winked at her as she looked at him with wide eyes. ***** She looked horrified when she realized what he had done. That mortified look on her face was enough to make Leander's mood light. "No!" she cried, trying to battle against him even though she was lying beneath him. The general merely laughed, holding her left wrist tightly on his fists. He looked at the shackle around her right wrist, grinning widely at Daphne when he was certain that she had no way of escaping it. "Leander..." Daphne said in a begging voice. "Please..." He merely chuckled again, pulling her left wrist toward him so that he could kiss her there. "I warned you, little devil. Do not let me get my hands on you." Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 08 AUTHOR'S NOTE: Maybe it was destined, or maybe, it was a convenient coincidence, but, the original version of the eighth installment of Courting Daphne got deleted accidentally. For a while, I was heartbroken, since I lost the complete version of that tale, and thus, could not re-upload it. Then, I thought, "What the hell? Why can't I just re-write it?" So, for weeks, I struggled to write it while also dealing with my midterm exams. I don't know if this is going to be good news to my readers or what, but, I decided not to end Courting Daphne in this version of the eighth chapter. The feedbacks I received for the deleted version suggested that it left some of you wanting, so, now, I will extend it a bit. Sorry for the long note, but I had to say that. :D Anyway, the next installments would most definitely not be under this category, since, as you must notice, Daphne's reluctance is melting away. :P Still not sure where to put it, though, so, we'll see. :P I hope you enjoy reading this new version, which I dedicate to the readers who so generously supported me. Let me know what you think of it. Much love, SF. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tents lined the grounds of Northcove's ducal palace. The warriors were celebrating one way or another: through drinking with other warriors, sharing their cots with women, or just sleeping soundly inside their tents. Anthony Renard has spoken to them and explained what was going on, and by the Duke of Wildercross' order and with the Duke of Northcove's assistance, the Army of the Black Wolves was ready to fulfill its mission. If there was one person in their ranks who had no idea what the deuce they were doing there, it was their general, Leander Van Halen, who was presently a 'guest' in Northcove's palace. Staying inside a brightly-lit room with tasteful decoration and a huge bed, the general was not present to hear the report of his second-in-command. Although learning the truth was still on Leander's list of priorities, it was by no means the top one at the moment. He would know what was going on soon; right now, his priority was the naked woman on the bed inside his assigned room. With an amused expression on his face, Leander watched as Daphne writhed underneath him. Her right wrist was bound by a shackle, and Leander was holding the key to it. She was trying her hardest to reach the key with her left hand, which he left unchained so that he could play with her. He should be wary; he should not trust her, yet, all Leander could think about was that she was here, she was safe, she was with him. Later, he would ask her for explanations. Later, he would fight with her if need be. But right now, all he wanted was to savour her, to love her, for he has not gotten enough of her yet. "Let me go!" she groaned, grimacing as she tried to grab the key once again. Leander dropped it onto the carpeted floor near the foot of the bed. "Too bad. You need to earn your freedom inch by inch." In frustration, Daphne bit her lower lip, pouting. "Please, Leander..." The general's grin widened. Did she know how cute she looked whenever she would do that? Whether she was aware of it or not, she was making him want her even more badly now. He chuckled softly. Daphne's cheeks turned crimson, perhaps embarrassed that he should be laughing at her. Or maybe she was getting mad. Before Leander could even decide what it was that made her blush, she began speaking. Amazed, the general listened as Daphne's pleas turned to commands, and then to threats. It was amusing. And the way she moved beneath him was more than arousing; every twist was teasing, sensual. He had been with other women before, and Leander would like to think that he had been with the very best. But this one -- this one was perfect. So beautiful outside, so complicated inside. A soft heart and an iron will within the most luscious body a woman could possess. Sweet fragrance, soft flesh -- Gods, she was making him hard! Daphne continued to rant on and on, but he had long tuned her out. "If this shackle so much as leave a mark on my skin, I swear to you that I will never forgive you!" Her voice had so much passion, was so full of emotions. It sounded melodious, minus the thing that she was ranting about. Not that he paid the message any heed. All that Leander could see was her lips, moving so sensually as she spoke her thoughts out loud. Her eyes: those green pools where golden tokens seemed to have been generously dropped. Her hair: soft golden waves spread around her head like a shimmering halo for a not-so-saintly child. And her skin... As he slowly stroked her wrist with his thumb, Leander could not fail to notice the silky smoothness of her milky-white skin. Her hairs were so fine that they could almost be non-existent. Unable to control himself, Leander found himself kissing Daphne's bare neck. The lady stopped midway through her most recent complaint. "Leander?" she asked breathlessly. By that time, the general was teasing her with his tongue, making patterns on her skin. If he could only devour her, he swore that he would. Inch by inch, savouring her to his heart's desire. "Hmm?" "Were you even listening?" Daphne asked in a whisper. "Uh-huh," he replied, kissing his way down to her shoulder. Her pulse was accelerating, he noted. Out of fear, out of anger, or out of anticipation? ***** "Uh-huh?" she repeated. How could he have survived in this world? Daphne thought. Their world was no place for liars -- or, at least, for people who are not good at lying -- and yet, there he was, blatantly lying to her face. Uh-huh? Uh-huh?! Daphne would bet her right hand that he had tuned her out. But, at least, Leander was an effective 'convincer'; he was able to shut her up. Her shock when he kissed her neck made her stop whining. That, the gentle pressure of his thumb against her wrist, and the press of his hard-on on her thighs, were enough to make her stop struggling beneath him. Let him shackle her, let him seduce her, let him do anything! As long as Daphne knew that he would be making love to her, she would not care what happened afterward. She missed him. Gods, how she missed him! Having him inside her for a single session was not enough -- not nearly enough. She wanted more, and the sooner she got it, the better. But even if she knew that Leander lusted for her, she also knew that he was going to punish her. If not right now, then, at one point in the next twenty-four hours. Or maybe he would just question her, ignoring the torture she brought when she refused to unshackle him while she was doing all the works to get him inside her. Yes, it would be nice to think of Leander as a gentleman, who would do nothing more than wait for explanations. But he was not that much of a gentleman, really. He was more like a pride-driven warrior, who would exact revenge where he thought it was due. Besides, if he was thinking of letting her off easily, why the shackle around her right wrist, and the iron grip on her left? Clearly, he was not considering mercy right now. "Leander?" she moaned as she felt his left hand stroking her right thigh. "We'll talk later," he whispered just as he nibbled on her ear. Oh no... Gabriel would wait for her. The Duke of Northcove gave Daphne a few hours to spend with Leander, but insisted that they had to talk before midnight, after the duke's late-night meeting with the spies he sent to the capital a few days ago. Daphne did not know what was so urgent in the matter at hand, but in a kingdom at war, people must learn not to ask questions. If Gabriel wanted to see her before midnight, His Grace's will be done. But if Leander continued doing this... "No," she protested, even as her body practically melted under his touch. "We can't." Leander would not hear of it, though, as he continued stroking her thigh, his hand moving closer and closer to her still-wet centre. "Of course we can." Daphne moaned as if in pain. And, in a way, she was in pain: she felt as if the duke's order was wrenching her away from the only place on earth where she wanted to be. "I have no time to play, Leander!" she hissed, trying to wriggle beneath him, away from his touch. It was, of course, futile, since he was pinning her down to the bed, and her hands were of no use. "Get off me!" "You used me for your pleasure when you wanted it, and now that I want you, you try to deny me?" Leander asked, looking at her with a smirk on his face. "Play fair." She moaned in frustration. Somehow, everything in her plans was going the wrong way. First, that seduction. She never planned it, but her need for him drowned her senses that she actually practically raped him. And now, here she was, shackled to the bed when she was supposed to be explaining things to Leander. As if that was not bad enough, Leander was downright horny. He needed her, and she knew not how to stop a man with that much lust in his system. How could she, anyway, when she could not stop herself from indulging earlier? She could feel the warmth of his body pressing against her; she could make out his scent mixing with the smell of sex hovering around them. Worse, she could remember how he had felt inside her. So, no matter what her brain wanted, her body would continue to long for his flesh. But there was Gabriel -- Gabriel, who would be waiting for her in his receiving room (she refused to ever set foot on his chamber again). What he was about to tell her must be of extreme importance. It might concern something from her father, if it had anything to do with the message that arrived after dinner, several hours after the Duke of Wildercross' initial correspondence. If the message was from her father... Could she possibly ignore it for a little while without asking for trouble? Could she find a way, at all? Maybe she could pretend that she did not sense Gabriel's urgency. Then, she could spend more time with Leander. But... No. Duty above everything else; her 'Papa' taught her that. Daphne knew that she could not encourage Leander to continue this. He had to understand; he had to let her go and talk to Gabriel. And then, after hearing what the duke had to say, she would come back to Leander. They would be free to do as they desired then. No objections from her, no interruptions from others... "Please, Leander, listen to me," she begged. His hand was almost touching her pussy now. She was desperate to make him stop, before she lost hold of her sanity and decide to let him have his way with her. "I'm sorry if I ended up seducing you earlier. I did not mean to do it." The general's eyes narrowed when he looked at her face. "You did not mean it?" "No," she groaned, biting her lower lip. Well, of course, she meant it, what the hell! "I mean, it's not part of the plan..." "Plan?" Now, she could see that she had his attention again. The good thing about him was that he was a general first, a lustful man second. He could push his responsibilities aside, but it would not take much to make him pick it up again. "Yes," she said, closing her eyes in relief. She was jubilant when she felt his hold on her left wrist starting to relax. "Let me go and I will tell you everything. I need to leave as quickly as possible. Gabriel needs me tonight. He only gave me permission to talk to you while he talks to his spies, but I need to see him before midnight." Only when she felt his grip tightening again did Daphne look at his face and realized her mistake. His blue eyes were icy cold, his face dark with unmasked anger. Daphne felt her heartbeat accelerating again. Damn luck she had! Why did she have to mention that, seemingly out of the blue, without telling him the stuff he had to know first? Taken out of context, her statement about meeting Gabriel in the middle of the night could mean anything! Leander was mad -- as she should have known he would be. Without knowing what was really going on around him, his head was bound to be plagued by misconceptions, by suspicions. And if he thought that there was something going on between her and Gabriel... "Oh no," she groaned, meeting his furious stare even if her heart was beating at a thousand mile a second. "Don't look at me that way. It's not what you think it is." "Isn't it?" he asked through his teeth. His grip on her wrist almost hurt. Almost. That was the key word. Daphne realized then that, whatever happens, Leander would never hurt her. Not if he could help it. Even in his rage, he wouldn't -- perhaps couldn't. Not because he was duty-bound to protect her, but because he loved her. He loved her as much as she loved him, if not more. With that thought in mind, Daphne's heart swelled even though she was still face to face with the angry general of the Black Wolves. Maybe she was wrong: he was an angry man first, a general second, and all other personalities next. But on this, she was sure: he loved her and he would never, ever hurt her. "Leander," she whispered, willing him to see in her eyes the truth of what she was saying. "There is nothing going on between Gabriel and me. There will never be another man in my life. There is only you. There can only be you." The iciness in his eyes thawed, and Daphne saw the pain there. She also saw the way he struggled: should he believe her or not? "Then, stay," he said. "Don't go. Stay with me. Let me hold you. Let me have you. Let me love you." "No," she groaned, looking away from him. "I can't..." "You can't or you won't?" he asked. "Of course I want to stay!" she said, the beginnings of annoyance already in her voice. "But I really can't. Please try to understand." Leander stared at her with a clearly suspicious look in his eyes. Daphne's insides seemed to turn. Was this the result of her one-time deception, then? The loss of his trust, forever? "Is this one of your deceptive ways again, Daphne?" he asked quietly, loosening his grip on her wrist. "Are you doing this because you know how vulnerable I am when it comes to you? Because you know that I can't resist you, weak man that I am?" "No," she moaned, biting her lower lip. "No, it's not like that. I'm telling you the truth. Gabriel said he needs to talk to me before midnight. About something important. I'll come back to you as soon as I am able, once I've spoken with him." "Are you sure that is everything he wants from you?" For a moment, Daphne remembered the blatant means Gabriel used to seduce her on her first few days of staying in the ducal palace. She remembered the duke's threat, and then his subsequent surrender. Her face burned a bright crimson. "I thought so," Leander mused aloud. "But I don't want him!" Daphne complained. "Don't you trust me?" As soon as she saw the shadow of a smile on the corners of Leander's lips, she realized that it was the wrong question to ask. She almost flinched when she heard his answer. "Frankly?" he drawled, bending down to kiss her. "No." She was miffed. Just like that? He would not let her explain, and he would suddenly tell her that he did not trust her anymore? She had her fair share of mistakes, all right, but she deserved a moment to redeem herself -- a moment that he would not give her! In her annoyed state, Daphne tried to deny Leander the kiss that he was about to force on her. But Leander's hand gently held her face steady until his lips were covering hers. Daphne groaned, trying to break free from him. But while they were bickering, Leander had seized the opportunity to firmly grab her wrist again. With him still pinning her down to the bed -- and with the shackle still around her right wrist -- her efforts were fruitless. However, there was still one way to show him her defiance. Leander gently licked at her lips, prodding her to let his tongue into her mouth. Instead, Daphne pressed her lips tightly together. If he wanted to enjoy himself, let him do so knowing that she did not consent to this. But the general chuckled softly as if unaffected by her manoeuvres. He slowly moved his kisses to her cheek, while the tip of his tongue gently grazed along her skin. Without his mouth covering hers, she finally had the freedom to speak, yet, Daphne refused to open her mouth, knowing what he planned to do as soon as she let her guard down. That was where she was wrong, it seemed. Whatever it takes, Leander would make sure he gains her cooperation. "Why don't you just give in, my love?" Leander whispered, peppering her neck with feather-light kisses. "I want you, and I know you want me." Daphne held her breath, closing her eyes tightly. Whatever happened, she could not give in. Her father raised her to look to duty first. Anything else is secondary. She already broke it several times in the past, but not again. Not this time. Not when two kingdoms are at war, even if it meant saying no to Leander. His left palm began softly caressing her flat stomach, tracing delightful patterns with his fingers. Daphne stifled a groan. The roughness of his palm contrasted so much against the smoothness of her skin. Feeling it on her naked flesh was starting to wear down her certitude. Leander's mouth travelled from her neck to her shoulders, then downward to her chest, deftly avoiding her already sensitive nipples. As he moved lower down her body, he let go of her wrist, but Daphne was too concentrated on keeping the last bits of her sanity to notice the difference. With both of his hands now free, Leander wasted no time. Daphne sighed as she was assaulted by pleasant sensations from everywhere his hands roamed. His touch, coupled with the butterfly kisses, was stimulating every nerve in her body, further awakening her desire to be one with him. As Leander's mouth travelled to the region just above her crotch, Daphne heard herself moaning in pleasure. Leander chuckled; she did not care. At the moment, she felt as though her body was on fire, and any reluctance on her part was slowly fading away. She only wanted him to continue what he was doing. "Leander..." she groaned. "Hmm?" She bit her lower lip, loving the sensation that reverberated from where he answered her. "Please..." "I thought you did not want it," Leander teased. "Then stop..." she groaned, while grinding her hips closer to him. Leander laughed, parting the lips of her nether region before planting a kiss on her glistening pearl. Daphne groaned, her left hand clutching the sheet on the bed. "When the lips on the upper part of the body are out of bounds, you leave me no choice but to kiss the other pair below," Leander cooed, before slowly circling her bud of pleasure with his tongue. Daphne looked at him then, a pout on her face. There was triumph in his eyes -- a certain look about him that clearly said, "I win, my love; you know you want me." She did not know what to do; she did not know what to feel. She wanted to tell him to stop, but in all actuality, she was afraid that he would really stop and leave her hanging, the way that she had done to him earlier just to tease him. Gods, she did not want that! She wouldn't bear it if he teased her that way... So, instead of saying anything, she looked away, conceding defeat. And gods, who ever said that losing felt awful? As Leander swiftly sucked her clit into his mouth, sucking on it fiercely, Daphne let out a yelp of delight. Her hips moved of their own accord, moving off the bed and moving closer to Leander's mouth. The hell with her duty to listen to Gabriel; the hell to the war between Thersale and Elgeshore! No way on earth would she be anywhere else right now. "Daphne?" As if hypnotized, she looked at Leander again. His blue eyes were so full of want -- so full of love, even. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 08 "Did I ever tell you?" His voice was soft, silky, caressing the depths of her soul. She was positively enchanted. "You taste good, my love." Blood rushed up her body, making her face feel so hot. She would never be caught alive confessing, but she actually loved what she just heard. The sincere look in his eyes said that Leander was not kidding -- merely telling her the truth; it warmed her heart, just as it set other parts of her body on fire. "If only I could devour you..." he whispered. ***** Leander watched as Daphne's blush deepened. Her lips parted slightly, lending a sexy look on her beautiful features. He could tell that she was both embarrassed and flattered at the same time, yet she did not look away, letting him savour the thrill of seeing her watch him. With his fingers, he parted the lips of her pussy, glancing at it. A slow grin spread across his face. She looked beautiful, even down there. A tuft of fine blonde hair crowning puffy lips that were red from want, coated with her own juices. Her clit was proudly standing above her hole, swollen with desire. He slowly blew on her bud of pleasure, watched the way her muscles reacted ever so slightly, as if she was still controlling them. A purr has sounded from her, and Leander looked up at her then. She was still looking at him, desire and want written all over her face. The golden flecks on her eyes were dancing, complementing the lights of the candles around them. And instead of drowning out the greenness where they were sprinkled, those flecks only highlighted it more. For a very brief instant, Leander thought that her eyes resembled those of a cat. The thought made him grin again. Those eyes, the purring and mewling noises she constantly makes when they make love, and the smooth, sensual way with which she moves -- all of it point to her feline qualities. Feline. Quite a word to describe her! Yet, it was true, especially in bed. Seldom a kitten, often a tigress, Daphne would most definitely be part of the feline family had she been born an animal. As if reading his thoughts and emphasizing his point, Daphne made a sound akin to mewling while she lifted her hips from the bed, moving her pussy closer to his mouth. It made the general chuckle. Where had her earlier resistance gone to? Yet, who was he to deny her what she was asking for? With his eyes still trained on her face, Leander ran his tongue along her slit. The ghost of a smile touched the corners of Daphne's lips. With her mouth still open and with fire dancing in her eyes, she was the ultimate seductress, and Leander knew there was no way he would not do anything that she wanted from him. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled her scent. Musky and mellow at the same time, hers was a scent that would forever remind him of hot, wild nights on a foreign kingdom, of deep, passionate lovemaking amidst the ashes of war -- a scent to remind him of the most terrifying days of his life as he led the men who swore their lives to him, and of the most fulfilling nights with the only woman on earth who could hold him thrall. Gods, he knew that he was a dead man. If he did not die in his campaign, he would for sure die in the hands of the Duke of Wildercross once the man finds out of his tryst with Daphne. No information ever escapes the duke. The only exception had been the whereabouts of his sister and his daughter these past two years, but that was history. And once he finds out about the way Leander made Daphne his lover... Groaning, he shut his mind to such thoughts and instead focused his energy on trying to please Daphne. His lips and tongue assaulted her womanhood, once again familiarizing him with her taste. Tangy and salty and sweet, all at the same time: flavour made to please a man. Another groan sounded in his throat as he savoured her taste. His member was getting hard, seeking attention. Leander wanted nothing else but to stop what he was doing and plunge into her hot, juice-producing hole. But -- Not yet. The rhythmic thrusting of Daphne's hips against his devouring mouth told him how much she was enjoying this. She was already biting her lower lip now, making a sound that closely resembled a growl instead of a groan. Her eyes were still in contact with his, giving him free access to the depths of her soul. And she wanted this. She was aching for this. "Leander..." Leander closed his eyes, slowly enjoying her silky warmness against his mouth. He heard a soft sigh escape Daphne's lips with his change of pace. Whatever happened to him in the future, he would never forget that sound, along with the picture of her in her moment of deep desire. And he would remember that it was his name she was calling. He snaked his right arm around her left thigh, resting his palm on her lower abdomen. To his mild surprise, he felt Daphne's hand over his, squeezing. He looked at her to find that she was still watching. His heart leapt out of its cage at what he saw in her eyes. Overwhelmed, he took her hand in his, holding it as if it was the most precious thing on earth. Gently, he took her nub of pleasure between his lips, sucking on it slowly. Daphne inhaled sharply, the nails of her fingers dug into the flesh of his palm, before she let out a shriek. Her hips bucked, and with the jerky movement came a rush of warm feminine juices that poured into his mouth. As Daphne tried to catch her breath, Leander moved away from her. He heard a moan of disapproval from the lady, but he had glimpsed the redness of her right wrist, through which the shackle restrained her. He had quite forgotten that Daphne wriggled a lot when she is being pleasured; her wrist must have been constantly rubbing against the shackle. With care, he released her after fetching the key from the floor. His eyes apologetic, Leander took Daphne's right wrist and kissed it. Daphne merely looked at him, a small smile on her lips. She did not seem to care that she was hurt, only that he was there. She stroked his face, while her other hand pulled him down on the bed. The general did not resist. She was his princess, from then until now; whatever would make her happy, he would gladly do for her. Daphne kissed him, her tongue fiercely demanding entry into his mouth. No languid kisses this time around, it seemed. Her arms wove around his neck and pulled him closer to her, while her legs started to wrap around his waist. At the very last moment, though, she rolled him onto his back and sat on his abdomen, making Leander feel the wetness that was still pooling in the centre of her being. She took his hand a kissed his knuckle, while her forefinger seductively traced a lazy line along his chest. She was slowly rocking back and forth astride him, and Leander stifled a groan of longing. "Want to see my riding skills?" she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Leander could not help but chuckle. When he replied, though, his voice was raspy. "With gladness, little one." Daphne flashed him an open-mouthed smile, before taking his member in her palm and stroking it a few times. Once satisfied that he was fully erect, she slowly descended upon his rock-hard cock, impaling herself to the hilt. "Oh gods," she groaned, throwing her head back as she closed her eyes. 'Oh gods, indeed,' Leander thought as he fought his impending orgasm. He had been close when he was eating her pussy, although the act of retrieving the key and freeing Daphne somewhat relieved his angry member. Now, however, with her tight, silky warmth wrapped around him, his cock was anything but passive. Daphne began moving above him, rocking back and forth slowly at first. Leander grabbed her hips, holding but not guiding, so that she was the master of every stroke she made. She ground her hips in a circular motion, before changing the pace. Faster and faster, she moved above him, apparently enjoying herself. Leander could not look at her without getting closer and closer to orgasm. She resembled a lithe goddess riding to her heart's content, her perfectly formed tits bouncing with every rise and fall. And on top of it all, she opened her eyes and looked at him, watching, teasing. Moments later, his own hips were meeting her thrusts, slowly driving both of them to the peak of pleasure. The sound of wet flesh slamming against flesh mingled with the sounds of their groans and grunts, their sighs and moans. It was slowly driving him mad. "Daphne," he groaned, feeling the first indications that he would not last long. He could feel himself tensing up. His climax had been waiting just beneath the surface for the last several minutes; he knew he could not hold it back any longer. Only, he wanted Daphne to reach the peak with him. "I'm close, Leander," she whimpered, leaning forward to place her palms against his chest. She finally closed her eyes, her face crumpled in her attempt to hold back. "So... so close. You feel too -- too good inside me. I... I can't -- " He did not think she said anything afterward. Not that he would have heard it had she said anything. Seeds shot out of his cock and into Daphne's womb, while the lady herself shrieked, her own juices mixing with his, before she collapsed on top of him, at last spent. They stayed on that position for a while, before Leander finally wrapped his arms around Daphne. The woman kissed his lips, smiling. "You ride well, my lady," Leander whispered against her lips. Her smile was dreamy when she replied, "So I've been told." ***** Daphne could not believe it. She was feeling sore, yet, in a sweet, positive way. A funny feeling was settling on the lower part of her body, but it was anything but unpleasant. She felt fulfilled. At peace. Maybe that was because she had just one powerful orgasm. And with Leander being here... Cuddling up against the general, Daphne was on the verge of falling asleep when she heard the chimes of midnight. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. Reality sank in. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, sitting up. Leander lazily smiled at her. "What now?" "I have to go see Gabriel," she said, the traces of want ebbing from her voice. She searched Leander's face for disapproval; she found none. "Is it okay? I will explain everything to you later?" "Go ahead," Leander replied, as if he was not concerned at all. There was something amiss, Daphne thought, but she was too preoccupied about meeting Gabriel to actually think about it right now. She scanned the floor for her nightgown, and saw it near Leander's side of the bed. Only when she tried to stand up that Daphne understood why Leander was not arguing with her. She woefully sat back on the bed and looked at him. "What?" Leander asked, clearly amused as he sat up, leaning against the headboard. "I'm not stopping you. Go ahead and talk to him." A soft blush crept up to her face, and Daphne threw herself to his arms. She could tell by the way he was looking at her that he knew what the problem was, and the bastard did not feel bad about it. Hell, there was even triumph in his eyes! ***** Gabriel sighed. His spies brought some disturbing news from the capital. It seemed that the situation was as bad as it could get. Thersale lost two battles in the last five days, and Elgeshorans were taking heart again. 'Never mind that,' he thought, pouring himself a glass of wine. Now that the Duke of Wildercross already know of the double-crossing that Thersalians are suffering, the tides of fortune would definitely shift back to their side of the war. 'Gods,' the duke thought, 'why do I have to be dragged into this mess, anyway?' Maybe he could have just turned Daphne down. He could have reinforced his neutrality and damn whoever loses the war. Then, maybe, he would be spending the moment in the arms of one of his mistresses, instead of standing here in his receiving room, digesting bad news and wondering how on earth Daphne's father would get the Thersalians out of this hole. Yet, even somebody as laidback as Gabriel knew that no form of neutrality would protect him against Elgeshoran spite if ever Thersale lost. It would not matter if he did not assist either side; he would still have to suffer the consequences of not supporting his own kingdom. The size of Northcove's private army had been a deterrent in the past, but, if Thersale's armies are crushed, then, those who had been resentful of the power of the Duke of Wildercross would be heartened to ally with Elgeshore and wage war against Thersale. And Northcove's private army would be no match to the army of Thersale's enemies. He remembered what his father had said before the old man died. "Once Wildercross falls, Thersale will fall. Once Thersale falls, so will everything you know and love." Only a handful of people seemed to know that. Daphne's father might not hold the Thersalian crown, but he was the backbone of the kingdom. The precarious balance that existed in and around Thersale was maintained only by the power and influence that the Duke of Wildercross held. Take him out of the picture and the continent would dive head-on into war in no time. Gabriel did not know how the duke could maintain the balance of power in this part of the world, but Wildercross was doing it and that was the end of the story. Only underhanded tricks -- like the one being used by the Elgeshoran monarch through the assistance of Norcross and a few other Thersalian generals -- could topple Wildercross down, but even then, it would be hard to take the duke out. The extent of the man's power was such that, unless Fate and Luck intervened, he would always win. Not for the first time, Gabriel thanked the heavens that Daphne Wildercross did not choose to marry him. The need of his cock aside, he would have condemned the day he marries that woman. Everybody knew that Wildercross would bestow as much power as he could to his love child, so woe be to him who'd marry the woman, for he had to take the role that Wildercross would leave behind. As his thoughts took him back to Daphne, Gabriel frowned. Wildercross has three legitimate children, all of them sons. Yet, he still set Daphne apart. Perhaps because he loved his former mistress, the Duchess of Brayhorn? It could be, but, if so, why would Wildercross not marry the woman, especially when she also bore him a son? A son who was kept from the duke, no less. Nothing made sense. "And Daphne's still not here, what the fuck," he muttered under his breath, downing the contents of his wineglass. As if summoned by his words, a knock sounded from the door. It was the guard he sent to fetch Daphne from Leander's room. Gabriel understood that Daphne might use the time to reconcile with her lover, so he let it pass that she did not come to their meeting place before midnight. But, half an hour later, he had to send for her. "Where is she?" he growled when the guard had nobody with him. "She will not come, Your Grace," the guard answered, trying his hardest to keep his face straight. Gabriel frowned. "And why is that?" The guard croaked the words out. "She said she can't walk." "What?" The guard cleared his throat. "She said she can't walk. Her legs won't hold her up." It took a moment before it hit him. Gabriel shook his head, grinning. "I should not have given them a time for fucking reconciliation, should I?" The guard allowed himself a grin. "Time for reconciliation woud have been good, but time for fucking...?" Gabriel burst out laughing. He dismissed the guard before pouring himself another drink. The second message from the Duke of Wildercross -- the message he wanted to discuss with Daphne -- was lying on the table. Even without talking to her, Gabriel already knew what Daphne's response would be, especially now that he had confirmed Anthony Renard's guess: No way in hell. The duke drank his wine before grabbing the letter and heading for the door. No way in hell would Daphne return to her father's duchy. Not unless she could have Leander Van Halen with her, anyway. ***** The next time she opened her eyes, Daphne found herself amid suffocating darkness. She gasped, both her arms reaching beside her to find that it was empty. Aghast, she realized that Leander had left her alone. Still, she would never believe the general capable of leaving her in such a vulnerable state. She might not know him from before her father snatched her away, but in the short time that she had been in his camp as his mistress, Leander had never been anything but good and thoughtful. 'And loving,' she thought, swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. "Leander?" she whispered, slowly sitting up on the bed as her shaking hands clutched the sheets closer to her naked body. Panic was starting to claw at her heart. She was not a very big fan of darkness, having been used to the lifestyle at the Duke of Wildercross' estate. It might be unreasonable to fear the dark, but then, for her, darkness has a life of its own, and it always comes breathing down her neck, sending goosebumps on her skin. It feels like anything could happen in the dark; invisible hands could snatch her up -- She shook her head. She did not know why she hated darkness. In any case, nobody ever asked her. Her desires had always been catered to, and after she ran away and hid with her aunt, she has always slept with a lit lantern beside her cot. She waited, but when there was no response, she called out his name again, louder this time. "Leander?" It took a while, but at last, his response came: "I'm here." Daphne once again closed her eyes, relief flooding to her system as she breathed a barely audible sigh. To know that she was not alone -- that he was there with her -- was in itself a luxury. "I can't see you," she said, narrowing her eyes. Somewhere in that darkness, a matchstick was lit. Daphne closed and opened her eyes, seeking the light. She saw it near the window, where Leander was standing, holding the small fire to the wick of a candle. Daphne slipped out of the bed, holding her breath when she was already standing. Her legs were still wobbly, but at least, they did not feel jelly-like, the way they did earlier. Slowly, she walked to where Leander was. Where the light was. She had always been like that: a moth attracted to the flames. Never mind if the flames could hurt, could burn; all she wanted was its light, its warmth. And if she died being consumed by a great conflagration, so be it, but she would not die in the dark, afraid and unloved. Leander, she saw, had put on a pair of cotton pants that Gabriel provided him with. Still, Daphne could make out the hard planes of his body, the powerful muscles of his arms, and she smiled in both awe and need. She stood by his side, pressing her body close to him as her arms encircled his waist. The general stood motionless, staring outside the window. The dark cloud that hid the moon finally moved over, allowing the heavenly body to shed its reflected light on the ground below. Daphne sighed as she at last saw what Leander had been watching. "I'm looking for answers," Leander said, completely parting the curtains so that both of them could watch the activities below. "There are so many things that I still don't understand." So, the time for play was over. He finally wanted to get down to business. "I will enlighten you," Daphne offered. "You better do," Leander said stiffly, only glancing at her briefly before looking at the tents that lined the ground. "That my men are camped in Northcove's territory could only mean one thing. Either Anthony has become a turncoat and persuaded the men to work against Thersale, or you are actually an ally and you convinced my best friend to work with you." Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 08 "It's the latter," Daphne admitted. Leander frowned and faced her. "But Anthony doesn't trust you. I don't understand why he would work for you, especially if it means deceiving me." "I told him the truth," Daphne said in defence. "Your best friend might not trust me -- he might even hate me -- but when I wrote to him to tell him what is going on, he had enough sense to realize that I might be right. He did not believe me right away, but he came to Northcove to investigate." "And what has he found?" Daphne took a deep breath before explaining, "That you have been betrayed. While you were away, Mia and other women came to me with information about your campaign. One of them told me of a disturbing thing that she heard from one of your officers. He let it slip that the Duke of Wildercross hasn't sent you any missive for quite some time. "I know my father," she continued. "He is not the kind of man who will lose direct correspondence with anybody who serves him. Especially not if that somebody turns out to be one of the generals he employed to fight a war for him and the kingdom. Further information revealed that you only act upon orders that my father supposedly give you through General Wilson Norcross. "That is not my father's way," Daphne said, shaking her head. "He never uses an intermediary when he orders a man. So I asked Mia and the others to find out anything they could about Norcross. One of them was able to show me a copy of the general's coat-of-arms." "How had she managed to find that?" Leander asked. Daphne flashed him a knowing smile, saying, "We women have our ways..." "I see," Leander said after a while, frowning. "Go on." "I recognized the coat-of-arms," Daphne continued. "Gabriel's father, the former Duke of Northcove, has pointed it out to me once, when he was driving my aunt and me around Elgeshore's capital, and we happened to come across a carriage bearing the symbol. The duke told us that it was a Thersalian coat-of-arms, and that whoever owns it must be a close ally of Elgeshore's king." Leander interrupted her. "Are you sure it was Norcross's?" Daphne nodded. "I'm positive. So, I thought, if the duke has known that, then, my father must have known that, too. Which only makes me wonder why my father would use Norcross as a go-between. It doesn't make any sense. So I did the only thing that I thought would work: I wrote to the Duke of Northcove and asked for assistance, without knowing that the old duke has already passed away and that Gabriel has taken his position." Again, Leander's disbelief made him interrupt her. "And he helped you? Just like that? Even though you must have caused him a great deal of humiliation in the past by running away from your betrothal?" "No," Daphne explained. "When he sent his men to your camp, he was not trying to help me. He was trying to do my father a favour. It just so happened that I could help him do that favour, so he ordered his men to bring me to his duchy." The general asked for further clarification. "What has your father got to do with this?" "When he lost contact with you, Papa decided to ask his friend, Gabriel's father, to find out what's going on," she answered. "The letter he sent was still addressed to the old duke, since there has been, as of yet, no news of the duke's death. Gabriel thought I would be of use to know what's keeping you from communicating with my father, so he sent men to escort me to Northcove." "And you did not share any of these with me because...?" At the slight accusation that tainted Leander's question, Daphne winced. Still, she decided that he would believe her when she speaks the truth. "I did not want to get you involved just in case my assumptions were wrong. It is enough that the women and I were the only ones who knew." Leander walked away from the window, pacing the floor. "Yet you decided to tell Anthony. You even convinced him to work with you. You kept me in the dark, as if you didn't trust me enough." "It's not like that!" Daphne complained. "I just thought that Norcross might have spies in your camp. People who are close to you, people you trust." "Did it ever occur to you that you might have to doubt Anthony?" Leander asked, exasperated, as he walked to where Daphne was and grabbed her arms. "What if you were wrong about him and he was one of Norcross's spies in my camp?" Daphne shook her head. "There's a reason why I chose to trust him!" Leander turned livid. "What?" At the face of his anger, Daphne's heart melted. It was the anger of a jealous man, and she could not help but be flattered. She touched his face gently and managed a smile. "You trust him. With that in mind, I decided to give him my trust, too." Even though Leander frowned, Daphne knew that she was able to reassure him that he had nothing to be jealous about. Still, he asked, "What if I was wrong about trusting him?" "You were not," she reminded him. "Besides, Anthony hates me. And that's not because he thinks I am too close to you. He hates me because he thinks I only lie to you. So I thought I could trust him to keep you safe no matter what." Leander sighed, pulling her close to him. "He is like a brother to me." "A trustworthy man, he is," Daphne murmured, closing her eyes. "But I'm not going to delude myself through thinking that he decided to believe me only because he thought there was something to what I was telling him. He said that he has had his suspicions for quite a while, about the loyalty of some of your men." "Or women," Leander suggested. Daphne nodded, remembering Sylvia. She had not seen the woman with the others. Anthony has asked around for Sylvia, too, and was told that she decided to leave the day the Black Wolves marched to Northcove. "Leander," she said, looking up at him. "Anthony advised you to ask Norcross for reinforcements for your supposed attack on Northcove. You could wait for a whole week, two at most, but not even a shadow of his army would come near the horizon. Instead, he would send a letter to Gabriel to pledge his support for his Elgeshoran friend. If you have any doubts about my loyalty, you will only come to believe when Gabriel receives that letter." "Who ever told you that I don't trust you?" Leander asked. 'Well, you said so earlier!' Daphne wanted to say, remembering their conversation before he seduced her and incapacitated her, but instead, she asked, "Do you?" The general took a deep breath, stroking her face. "I admit, I had my doubts. But my greatest weakness is that I will always believe your words. Whether you deceive me or not, I will always believe you." Daphne could only nod, closing her eyes as she leaned against Leander. "But, you know, Daphne," the man said, "I can't believe you! How can you be so rash?" "Rash?" she repeated, pulling away from him. "I was anything but rash! I knew what I was doing. I put a lot of thought into it." "Still," Leander contradicted her. "What if something went wrong? What if Gabriel had been siding with Elgeshore all along?" "Nothing went wrong," Daphne reminded him. "And Gabriel is on our side. We can't deal with what could have been when it has all been done and dealt with. Aren't you happy at all?" Leander frowned, looking into her eyes. "I am, but, next time, Daphne, I want you to tell me everything you are planning to do. Do you hear me? Everything." When Daphne nodded, he sighed, adding, "It is my duty to protect you, little one. I don't know how I am going to face your mother or your father if ever something bad happens to you." Upon hearing that, Daphne frowned. "Duty?" "Yes," Leander answered, grinning, before gathering her in his arms and taking her back to the bed. "I am a man on a mission, my lady; everything that I do, I do to accomplish my task." "You better explain to Papa why on earth you decided to turn me into a lover, when he merely ordered you to find me," she complained, watching as Leander walked back to the window to retrieve the candle. His cock was already forming a tent on his pants, which made Daphne smile. She watched it a while before saying languidly, "He is going to be so angry." Leander cleared his throat as he returned to the bed, putting the candle on the side table. "About that anger. Are you pertaining to your father or..." Frowning, Daphne looked at him. He grinned at her, before glancing down at the bulge in his pants. She blushed. So, he caught her staring at it, huh? "You tell me," she answered, grinning back at him. The general rolled on top of her, kissing the tip of her nose. "Ah, we'll see." After another kiss, however, he asked, "Do you trust me, Daphne?" "Yes," she answered, bewildered. "Then, trust me," he said, before blowing out the candle. Daphne gasped as, once again, she plunged into darkness. But Leander held her, and she wrapped her arms around him. She heard his soft chuckle as he kissed her hair. "Why are you so afraid of the dark?" he asked softly. Finally, Daphne had to admit it. She felt her face burning as she answered, "I don't know. Childish fears, I think." Leander was silent for a while, before he began kissing her neck. He then murmured, "Darkness can be good, little one. When your eyes can't see, your other senses become more sensitive." As though to emphasize his point, Leander began caressing her mound. Daphne found herself relaxing her hold on him, enjoying his touch and forgetting the darkness that enveloped them. He was right: every move seemed more sensual, more arousing, when she could not see. When all she could do was feel his gentleness, smell his aroma, taste his lips. They made slow, passionate love -- the kind that Daphne thought only a husband and wife so in love with each other could make. The kind of carnal sharing of the body that transcended the physical aspects and reached the heart, the soul. It was slow and sweet and beautiful -- and downright scary. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 09 The sun was yet shyly peeking out from behind the towering mountains of Elgeshore when Daphne first opened her eyes. For the first time in nineteen years, she did not wake up in a room illuminated by the light of candles or lanterns; only the light coming from the window broke into the otherwise dark room. And for the first time, she was not afraid. She looked to her left. Leander Van Halen, the renowned General of the Black Wolves, was sleeping peacefully by her side after a wild night of lovemaking. She smiled. With the aid of the newly spreading light, she studied him. The first time she saw him up close, she had equated him to a war god: a black-haired, blue-eyed warrior in black armour astride a black horse. A face and a body chiseled by the best artists to capture the essence of being a man. In a way, she still saw him as that man -- that god of war. Awe-inspiring, powerful, passionate. In short, irresistible. But, unlike that first time, she was not afraid of him anymore. She has seen the other side of this warrior: the just, caring, respectful -- even humble -- side. Now, she knew that he was a man -- a very tempting, breath-takingly delectable man. Daphne shifted her position so that she could study his face closer. Again, she smiled at what she saw. If there was ever a masculine face made to make women swoon, it was this one. Maybe not because he was the most handsome man she has seen -- there were many such men in the circle she left behind -- but because he had the most alluring personality to back it up. Dangerous and protective at the same time: a warrior and a lover; a threat and a guardian. Looking at him, Daphne could not stop her longing. It was as if she could not get enough of him. With her forefinger, she lightly touched his stubble-covered chin, remembering the way it had felt against her skin. Colour rose up her face; the mere thought brought memories of something sinfully delicious -- something she would not mind having again soon. Tempted, Daphne found herself kissing Leander's jaw. The musky, oh-so-masculine scent she associated with him drifted to her nose, together with a fainter yet very distinct smell of sex. Both scents were already familiar to her, as if they had already been etched on her soul. As memories of what took place the night before came rushing back to her, Daphne moved her lips to Leander's mouth, planting the kiss gently. Somehow, she adored the way his lips did not respond to her. Maybe because it pointed out that she was 'stealing' a kiss. Whatever was behind her sudden amusement, she did not question it; she merely planted another fleeting, chaste kiss on Leander's lips. The general, however, spoiled her childish joy prematurely. His lips curved up into a smile as he drawled, "You know you can kiss better than that." Somewhat alarmed, Daphne moved away from him so that she could study his face. The "You're awake" comment that escaped her lips was almost involuntary. Leander chuckled and sat up, leaning against the headboard. "You woke me up." Blood rushed up Daphne's face, but she thinly smiled. "I didn't mean to! In fact, I wanted you to get some more rest..." Her companion laughed as he put his hands on her waist and pulled her close to him. "You didn't expect me to stay sleeping after you moved that much, did you?" Daphne just smiled, although, she was actually surprised. If that happened to her, she would still be soundly asleep right now, especially after getting close to no sleep the night before. But maybe it was Leander's warrior instincts that made him alert so that he easily wakes up when he senses slight movements around him. "I'm sorry," she offered lamely. "Are you, really?" chuckled Leander. Somewhat feeling awkward, Daphne shifted on the bed. Her movements caused the thin sheet covering them to bunch up near her waist, leaving Leander exposed. Immediately, her attention was captured by his manhood, which was already semi-erect. Her eyes widened in mild surprise, but it was by no means an unwelcome sight. "No," she answered, blushing again, as she looked up at Leander's face. There was awe in her voice. "Not at all." Just that, and she found her fingers gently wrapping around his cock. ***** Her touches would send him directly to hell, Leander was sure. As Daphne's fingers carefully wound themselves around his throbbing shaft, the general let out a longing sigh. Daphne flashed him a smile before she stopped holding his hard member. "Are you hungry yet?" Daphne asked, her eyes all but telling him that she wanted his answer to be 'no'. Leander could not help but offer her the response she was hoping for. A soft sigh of relief came from her moist lips before Daphne clambered up the bed, straddling his waist. Her mouth covered his, sweet and demanding all at once. "I should make amends for rudely interrupting your sleep," she whispered, moving her head away from his for a moment. Her eyes were practically dancing with mischief. "What say you?" He grinned and let his fingers run through her lovely blonde hair. "I'd love that." Daphne kissed his lips again, gently this time. Moving with lionine grace, she started licking her way down to his chest. With the aid of the spreading light coming from the window, Leander could make out the teasing manner with which she arched her left eyebrow. The woman, he thought, was obviously loving this. She delivered soft kisses on his chest, deliberately letting her lips linger longer than was expected. With her eyes, she sent all the erotic messages that her voice would have no way of relating. Her tongue, hot and moist and totally addictive, touched his right nipple, teasing it without mercy before moving to the left one. Leander knew that it would take less than that to make him hard. Just the sight of Daphne on top of him, moving with careless grace to ensure that he received pleasure, was enough to heighten his arousal. She was too perfect, too flawless. His hold on her hair tightened slightly, and Leander heard Daphne moaning. Her mouth has travelled to his abdomen, closer to its target. But the lady was not through her foreplay yet: she let her tongue feast on his body, concentrated on the pack of muscles on his stomach. Leander dared not close his eyes -- not even if that would afford him the greatest pleasure by making him more aware of the movement of Daphne's tongue on his skin. Instead, he watched her. He watched the way the soft rays of the morning sun lent a pale golden hue to her otherwise creamy-white skin. When he parted the curtains last night to let Daphne see the moon through the window as she waited for sleep, Leander did not anticipate the glory that it would lend to the woman's skin the day after. "Daphne," he whispered softly. "My love..." With a fevered gaze, Daphne looked up at him. Everything on her features looked playfully innocent -- except for her eyes. Those eyes betrayed everything she felt, and right now, Leander would be damned if he reached a conclusion other than that Daphne wanted him with all her heart, body, and soul. "You tempt me so." The slow grin that spread on the woman's face was anything but chaste. In an instant, the innocent, almost child-like look on her face changed to that of a woman born and bred to lure a man to hell. She was made to be a temptress, no doubt. Without warning, she held the base of his shaft and ran her tongue over its head, all the while watching his reaction. Leander groaned in pleasure, not denying her the satisfaction of knowing what kind of power she holds over him. And to reward him for being so honest, Daphne cut down the moment of torture and let his shaft into her lovely mouth. He had experienced it before -- having his member inside a woman's mouth. Some of those women were even more experienced in giving head than Daphne ever was. Yet, the thrill that coursed through his body was unlike anything he had felt before. It was not even the same kind of excitement that he felt when Daphne first received him in her mouth. Maybe it was the setting, the mood, the time of the day. Leander did not know, nor did he wish to know. He was having the time of his life being given pleasure by the love of his life, and all facts could go to hell for all he cared. He grasped Daphne's hair more tightly. Her hand began playing with his balls while her tongue twirled around and licked along his shaft. It was not long before Leander was moving his hips on his own, burying his huge member in Daphne's throat. If the lady had any objection, he neither heard nor sensed any; the twinkle in her eyes mostly encouraged him to go on. Slowly, Leander sensed his body gearing up for his release. Warning Daphne, he continued to fuck her mouth, at no time stopped by the lady nor asked to slow down. She was obviously up to the challenge of swallowing his seeds. Not that Leander did not expect that; it would not be the first time for her. Still... The general let out a low groan, before pushing his whole cock into Daphne's mouth. Daphne closed her eyes, fighting her gag reflex. Leander felt his cock draining his balls' content into Daphne's throat. Instead of pulling away, she swallowed, the muscles in her throat giving his flesh a squeeze that almost sent Leander's thoughts out of his head. When at last, he was sure that his ejaculation was done, he let go of her hair, watching Daphne's reaction carefully. Slowly, the lady pulled away, licking her lips when his manhood was fully out of her mouth. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she let her fingers wind around his cock again to give it a gentle squeeze. "That was..." she began, crawling up the bed to kiss his mouth. It was a moment before she finished her comment. "Lovely." Leander pulled her close for a kiss, his hand already moving to her wet mound. Daphne groaned but pulled his hand away. "We need to get out of here," she cooed, kissing his mouth briefly before moving her face away. "I am very hungry." "Wouldn't you give me the chance to take care of you first?" he asked, grinning as he watched Daphne slipping out of bed. Her backside, curved and fleshy in all the right places, was beautiful. "It's not necessary," she answered, pouting as she looked back at him. "I need to talk to Gabriel anyhow. You already kept me all night, and I think he will be throwing us all out of his duchy if I fail to show my face to him this morning." Leander could see her point, but he had also felt her wetness. He knew she needed to get off, and the sooner, the better. But he respected her decision and admired her resolve to ignore her own body's desires and rush toward her duty. "If that is what you wish," he said, himself climbing out of the bed. He walked to her and cradled her in his arms, delivering a loving kiss on her forehead. "But I promise to make it up to you later." Her green eyes were already twinkling with anticipation when she looked up at him. "I'll take you by your word, General." ***** Anthony Renard watched as Daphne watched Leander from the window on the second floor of Northcove's ducal palace. The lady was somewhat hidden, standing as she was beside the heavy velvet curtain, but Anthony's eyes were trained to spot men in hiding. He spotted her almost right away, although he tried to appear as if he had not. He must admit: her bold move of recruiting Northcove to their side impressed Anthony. Not even in his wildest dream did he imagine Daphne going to such lengths to ensure that her father would not mistake the Black Wolves for traitors. His esteem of her instantly went up. Still, it did not erase the fact that he disliked the woman. The reason behind his dislike was apparent, yet, it might not be her fault. In fact, it was Leander's fault. But it was easier to blame the woman who changed the general, than to blame the general himself. When he glanced at her again, Anthony found Daphne staring at him. She was startled when she realized that she had been caught, and with haste, she withdrew from her hiding place and ran away. Anthony grinned. Maybe Leander was right: the woman was harmless. The same could not be said, however, of the people who protected her. Almost with regret, Anthony let his mind wander down memory lane. How long has it been? Sixteen, seventeen years ago? Daphne was barely two, and yet, she had already robbed Leander of his childhood, his life. Anthony remembered the way the toddler would guard Leander's attention with vehemence. She was a selfish girl, and she wanted Leander to herself. Anthony understood the child. He even thought her amusing. Even though Leander's life clearly revolved around the little girl, Anthony could not blame her, or him. He would have lived the same way had he been as attached to Daphne as Leander was. But she forgot about Leander. Not even half a year after she was taken by her father, Daphne already seemed to forget the first friend she ever had. Anthony was secretly glad, thinking that, at least, Leander would be released from his duty of guarding the girl. But he was wrong. His best friend's life continued to revolve around Daphne despite the distance. And everyday, she grew to be like the other women in the higher echelon: haughty, disdainful, without character. That was when Anthony started resenting Daphne. He liked her when she was still a toddler who asserted what she wanted. At least, then, she had life; she had disposition. But all that vanished when she became Daphne Wildercross, favourite child of the most powerful duke in the kingdom. She lost the fire in her personality, blending with the background of dull high-society life. And all along, Leander was still watching her, weaving his life around her. Anthony was aware when Leander started falling for the woman. After her sixteenth birthday, when it was apparent to all that she was ripe for the picking, everybody saw the kind of trophy wife that Daphne would be. Anthony knew that, for Leander, she was more than that: she was his unreachable dream, the untouchable woman that every poem, every sonnet seemed to talk about. Just when Anthony thought that Leander would finally distance himself from Daphne, Daphne suddenly ran away from the arranged marriage to Gabriel Northcove, the then-Earl of Chantercy. It was during that time that Leander's life seemed to suddenly spiral out of control, and Anthony resented Daphne even more. Now, she was back in Leander's life. Anthony knew he should back off. The girl already proved that she still had the fire that Anthony liked about her. And maybe this time, she would not leave his best friend in pieces. Maybe this time, she would be nice enough to show her gratitude. But that was not at the centre of Anthony's concern now. He was more concerned of Leander's life. Literally. The general's obsession with the woman has imperilled his life. "Thinking of something?" He was startled out of his reverie by Leander's question. The general was drinking from a canteen of water, apparently resting after training with a few of the men. Anthony frowned, but decided that it was now or never. "Yes. I'm thinking of Daphne." That evoked Leander's interest. "What about her?" "It's not exactly about her alone," Anthony answered. "It's about your relationship with her." When Leander gave him a blank stare, he glared. "Are you really blind to the kind of mess you are currently in?" Leander sighed, seemingly unconcerned. "What mess?" "You must know what I'm talking about!" Anthony complained, scowling. "This whole thing about you taking her as a lover. By the gods, Leander, I know that the duke already knows by now." His friend looked at him with a clearly annoyed gaze. "What do you suggest I do? Try to convince the duke that I never really bedded his daughter? My head will be at the end of a stake long before I could even open my mouth and mention Daphne's name." "Exactly," Anthony said slowly. "I can't believe you'd be foolish enough to fuck the woman when you realized that she's the girl you're supposed to be looking after. I can't believe you will throw away your whole life just for a few blissful nights with her." "If, four years ago, I told you to leave Olivia alone..." Leander began. Anthony flinched upon hearing the name, so Leander did not pursue the issue. Instead, the general said, "My point is that I've placed Daphne on the same pedestal you placed Olivia on. Daphne is everything I have." "That's a bad case of obsession, brother," he observed quietly. He and his friend stared at each other for a while before Leander agreed. "Maybe. But she's the centre of my world. I thought I could build a life along the edges, but the past two years of not knowing where she was changed my belief. I live for her." He paused, before adding, "I live for her alone." Anthony watched the men practicing their combat skills. He, of all people, knew the truth of his friend's words. Indeed, it seemed that Leander only lived for the woman. Nothing he would do or say could ever stop Leander's dogged pursuit of the Wildercross girl. "I know you understand me," Leander said quietly. "You once loved a woman, too." "Olivia loved me back," Anthony retorted. "Does Daphne feel the same way for you?" Leander chuckled and flashed him his carefree grin before turning his back. "Does it matter?" His friend's attitude was starting to annoy Anthony. "Van Halen -- " "We're at war, Anthony," Leander cut him off. "We don't know when the enemy will strike and kill us all. I wanted a chance to get to know her personally and physically. Can you fault a man for asking for his favourite wine when he believes he is at the final hours of his life?" "What's the point of asking for the wine when he knows that it is poisoned?" Anthony asked. "Maybe he is wrong. Maybe those are not yet the final hours of his life." Leander laughed, looked back at him, and threw him the canteen of water that he was holding. "The point is that he is still able to drink his favourite wine. If he dies, at least, he dies with that taste lingering in his mouth. No regrets." He had known for a long time that this would be Leander's defence. Anthony knew he should now be ready to face the fact that his best friend would rather die than let go of Daphne. Still, he was not prepared to think of the demise of the man who had helped him more times than he could remember -- the man who was both his friend and his brother, and on many occasions, the saviour of his life in battle. Finally, Anthony conceded defeat. Clearly, Daphne wins. "Damn you," he hissed, grabbing his sword and nodding at Leander to grab his, too. "If you really have a death wish, you could have just told me sooner. I would have gladly slit your throat for you." Leander laughed again and prepared for mock combat. "Brother, the thing is, you still don't possess the necessary skills to bury me six feet under. Don't kid yourself; you know I would have ended up killing you instead." ***** Daphne sighed. She really could not understand why Anthony hated her so much. There was nothing she could do, it seemed, to erase the man's intense dislike. If she did not know better, she would think that the man harboured romantic feelings for Leander. "You look gorgeous today," Gabriel teased her when they finally met on the hallway. She had been looking all over the place for the duke. If she had known that it would take her this long to finally come face to face with Gabriel, she would have just stayed with Leander earlier. "Why, thank you," she said, smiling. The duke grinned and proffered his arm. "Your legs are feeling better, I see." Her face reddened. She could not believe this! Gabriel chuckled; Daphne almost twisted his arm. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 09 "Don't take offense, my dear," he told her. "I merely want a reason to smile." Suddenly, she knew that there was something troubling Gabriel. "What happened?" The duke nodded to their guards to leave. He did not speak until they were alone. "Your father wrote to me yesterday, as you know. He wants me to send you back to Thersale." "I won't leave!" she protested. Gabriel's smile was knowing. "I know. I already sent back a message, saying that you prefer to stay here until the war is over. Had I been more truthful, I would have written to him that you'd never leave Elgeshore until you have General Van Halen with you." "The world needs liars," Daphne said. "Yes, the world need liars," agreed the chuckling man. He led her into his study. "I'm sure that your father already knows of your liaison with one of his best generals, but I decided to withhold insignificant information." Now, Daphne was frowning. "Then, why did you sound like the world finally collapsed on your shoulders?" Gabriel frowned, too, as he gestured for Daphne to sit on a couch. "My wife, whom I sent to her parents in Shiorka for her own protection, claimed that she can't bear any longer her family's constant inquiry as to why she's still not with child. So the goddamned witch decided to ride back to Northcove. Just when I decided to take sides in this war!" Amused, Daphne watched Gabriel as he reached for a bottle of wine and two glasses. "She is a wife taken merely out of convenience. If she dies, why should you care? You are still a young man, and provided that Thersale wins, you will be one of our most powerful allies. You can get the bride of your dreams and forget about Althea." She saw the hesitation that crossed Gabriel's face, and almost laughed out loud. But she was able to maintain her composure and accept the glass that the young duke offered her. "I suppose..." To Daphne, that sounded like, 'No, I don't think so.' She was starting to suspect that Althea Reidforth was more than just a convenient wife. "So," Gabriel broke the silence that invaded the room after his hesitant reply. He poured Daphne a glass of wine. "How did Van Halen take the information you gave him?" "He took it well enough," Daphne answered. Her thoughts, however, were on the activity they pursued right after her explanations. She found Gabriel watching her, and colour flooded her cheeks. She could tell by the way his eyes laughed that the duke knew she was not paying attention to the details of her conversation with Leander. But Gabriel said nothing, and for that, she was thankful. "You must be apprehensive," the duke said. When Daphne frowned, he explained. "Van Halen has to lead his men in battle, Daphne. He is not merely your lover; he is also a general. In a kingdom at war, duty weighs more than will and desire combined." Daphne sipped from her glass of wine. Gabriel really had a way of spoiling her day. Thank the gods that she has had the clarity of mind to run away from their arranged union! She did not think that she could bear life with a man who would forever spoil her moods. But she was not mad enough to let him see through her mask of confidence. "Leander is a great general," she said, as much to reassure herself as to inform Gabriel. "With my father planning the counterattack and Leander leading his men, Thersale will emerge victorious. We will destroy the heart of Elgeshore and crush the ambitions of those who want to see Thersale fall. And when the kingdom is not at war anymore, then, people will be free to do as they will and to pursue their desires." Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "You really think so?" For a moment, Daphne could not answer. She had to think. She was not disillusioned; she knew that her father would not approve of her taking Leander as her lover. The Duke of Wildercross wants his daughter to marry a man in the position of power. Someone who has title, connections, resources. That was why Gabriel was his first choice as Daphne's husband. When she ran away, Daphne made it clear that she did not want to get married to a man she barely knew, but she doubted that her father would leave her to decide who she wants to marry. The duke himself married for political reasons, Daphne suspected. The union with her stepmother was done to seal an alliance between the two competing factions in the Thersalian kingdom. As far as she was concerned, her father's world revolves only around politics. Power is the name of his game, and he'd make sure that he can use his children to reinforce what he already has. In her father's world, only the concepts of power and duty and control existed. There are no noble causes other than to gain a position of unquestionable authority. No such thing as 'love' existed in his vocabulary. If Daphne ever claims that she loves Leander, the duke would laugh at her face, the way she could imagine him laughing if she ever tells him that she is descended from a bloodline of fairies. That was the extent to which the man denies 'love'. In fact, she could imagine him more likely buying the claim of being descended from fairies than buying the idea of falling in love. However, Daphne was not one to simply bow her head and let him control her life. No way in hell would she let her father decide whom she marries, or whom she takes as a lover. He needs to learn that there is a limit to his authority; he could not rule his daughter's life. If he wanted to control the fate of people so much, he better spend his energy thinking about the future of his sons instead of that of his daughter. "You fell silent," Gabriel observed. Daphne snapped back to the present. She downed her glass of wine before answering. "I really think so." "The will of those in power is the only thing that matters," Gabriel disagreed with her. "The only things that are, are the things that those in power desire. Freedom is not a luxury that powerless people can have." Her left eyebrow shot up and she scrutinized Gabriel. "You consider me a powerless individual?" ***** Gabriel could not answer right away. 'Daphne Rhaine Wildercross,' he thought. 'Daughter of the most powerful man on this side of the earth.' He studied the lady, taking stock of her feminine charm and almost unearthly beauty. In her veins flowed the blood of the Wildercrosses. Blood of people who had ensured the peace of their continent for centuries. Blood of people who ruthlessly killed and oppressed to get what they wanted. No, she was not from a powerless family. But, in the face of her father's power...? Gabriel refilled their empty glasses. Her name once again reverberated in his mind. He studied the fire in her eyes, the will of iron embedded in their green depths. In her veins flowed the blood of the most intriguing duchess that was ever hailed. Blood of the only woman the most revered Duke of Wildercross ever loved. Blood of the woman who almost threw Thersale in chaos when the Duke of Brayhorn asked for her hand while she was still clearly the mistress of a Wildercross. The mere fact that Daphne was the favourite child of her father sends a million messages that only read: Daphne Wildercross is the most powerful person in the face of the earth. Gabriel was certain that, with her determination, she could move her father's heart of stone -- a heart that was opened only once. He was sure that she could make the most terrifying duke of all times bow to her wishes and do as she commands. With a chuckle, he raised his glass to salute Daphne, and with confidence, he answered, "No, indeed not. You are most certainly the last person on earth that I'll consider powerless." ***** The cool water of the stream eased Leander's stressed muscles. He had been practicing with his men for the last several hours. It was almost time to march out to battle. The next ten days would pass as fast as an eagles flies, and then he would be shedding enemy blood in the field again. Sometimes, it was hard to think about that part of his life. The horrors war brought had the ability to break the resolve of even the strongest of men. How many friends had he buried? How many enemies had he killed? Only the thought that he was doing this for his kingdom kept Leander sane. He submerged his head on the water, hoping that the coolness would somehow make him forget, even for a while, the most horrifying sights that he had seen in the battlefield. So many idealists had written that nature helps heal a man; he wants to test their claims. He kept his head under water until the primitive part of his brain told him that he was no longer alone. Immediately, his senses were alert to any kind of danger. But when he looked at the bank, he saw only Daphne. She flashed him a smile. Leander was livid. He hated the feeling of being vulnerable, and just a few moments ago, he was feeling just that, but that was the least of his concern right now. The woman standing a few feet from him was not the kind of predator that he feared she was. In fact, with her inticing, golden hair down and with only a pink cotton robe wrapped around her delectable body, she was undoubtedly a prey. "What on earth are you doing here?" he asked through his teeth. "Joining you," answered Daphne, shedding off her only piece of clothing and walking towards the edge of the stream. "I got impatient waiting for you, so I thought I'd corner you into fulfilling your promise." He tried to swallow down his anger as he watched her wading across the water on her way to him. It was the first time he had seen her naked in broad daylight, and Leander was impressed by the sight of her. Daphe simply looked gorgeous. No other way to describe her, and his cock was of the same opinion. It only angered him more. By the gods! What was she thinking? His mind tried to calculate the distance from the ducal palace to the stream, but he could not even estimate it. All that his brain told him was that it was far -- way too far to be strolling with nothing but a robe on. How could Daphne be so reckless? Did she forget that there are hundreds of men staying in the palace grounds right now? Most of those men had been without a woman in their beds for so long, and Leander would be damned if he believed that those men would have second thoughts about raping a woman as unbelievably tempting as Daphne right then. "Why did you have to come here?" he hissed, grabbing her arm when she was near enough. "What the hell are you thinking?" Daphne was obviously surprised by the anger with which he greeted her. "Leander..." "What?" he barked. She was shocked into silence, staring at him with wide eyes. Her mouth moved, as if she wanted to say something, but then she decided to close it again. Almost a minute passed before Leander was able to breath normally, only to find tears welling in Daphne's eyes. Instantly, his anger vanished, replaced by the merciless realization that he had hurt her. Daphne, however, swallowed her tears. Before he could say anything, she had already shaken his hand off. She started to move away, glaring at him. Then, without saying a word, she turned her back on him. "What are you doing?" Leander asked, going after her. "Isn't it obvious?" she exclaimed, not taking the time to look back at him. "I'm getting out of the water and getting the hell out of your sight, because, apparently, I'm not wanted here!" He grabbed her by the waist before she could even get close to the bank. "No, you're not going anywhere!" Annoyed, Daphne shrieked and started fighting him off. Leander, however, had no intention of letting her go. He turned her around so that she was face to face with him. The woman started hammering her fists against his chest. "Let me go!" she ordered, not once stopping her physical assault. "No," Leander made clear. He was trying to make her stop struggling against him. "Listen, Daphne, I'm sorry!" "No, you're not!" she insisted, tears welling back to her eyes. "You're not, you idiot!" If only he were not faced by her indignant anger, Leander would have laughed. She looked like a wounded child who was trying to stop her tears from flowing. The way she was pouting and pursing her lips lacked the dignity that a well-bred lady was supposed to have. But he knew that Daphne had a right to get mad at him. That simple thought was enough to get him out of the mood for laughing. So he let her pound her fists against him as much as she wanted, taking care only that he did not lose his hold on her. The spirits know, he deserved a punishment worse than that. "I just didn't want any man going after you and harming you," he told her. "Gods, Daphne, do you even realize how tempting you look?" "Do you really think me a fool?" Daphne was exclaiming. "You should know me better than that. I had been in this place more times than I could even count! I know a way of getting to this stream without being seen by any of your men!" Yes, he should have really thought about that. This girl was no fool. But he was just a man, and his protective instincts proved to be way sharper than his rationality. "I'm sorry" was the only thing that he could offer. Little by little, Daphne tired of punching him. When at last, she was not fighting, Leander touched her chin and made her look into his eyes. Tears were still swimming in her eyes, but she was doing a good job of holding them at bay. "I"m sorry," he murmured, closing his eyes and placing his forehead against hers. He took one of her hands and placed it against his chest so that she could feel his beating heart. "It's just that, I'm a fool. The first thought that came to my mind is that you look so damn beautiful and there are hundreds of men in this place. None could have resisted the call of his groin had any man seen you. I'm just..." He opened his eyes and looked at her. Daphne was looking at him expectantly, as if she was waiting for him to give her a precious gift. In a way, that was he was doing as he bared his soul to her. Leander smiled. "I was scared of what could have been," he admitted. "What if one of my men forced himself on you? What if something happened to you? I'll never forgive myself, Daphne." He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "So forgive me. Forgive me for fearing the worst. Forgive me for forgetting that you are a smart woman, that you can take care of yourself." Daphne smiled tentatively. "You and your what if's." She finally leaned against him. "I'm sorry, too. I was a fool, too. It didn't occur to me that you're just worried." She sighed, pulled away from him, and smiled again. "I only wanted to be with you..." "And I want to be with you," he said, relief flooding his system. Thank the spirits that Daphne was not one of those women who played on a man's guilt! "So it seems," she whispered. Leander felt her forefinger gently touching his already hard member under the water. A coy smile appeared on Daphne's face as she let her finger touch the tip. "Yes, it does seem like it," he agreed, grinning at her. Not for the first time, he was filled with wonder by the realization that Daphne could arouse his desires even if he was soaked in cold water. "Let's kiss and make up?" Daphne proposed, her soft whisper caressing against his face as her lips gently grazed his mouth. "Not until you promise me that you won't take such risks again," he said. "You won't endanger yourself however much you want me." Daphne chuckled softly and pulled away from him. "You know what I realized, Leander?" Frowning, he looked at her. Damn this woman! How could he arouse him and then walk away? "Hmm?" Her eyes were lit by mischief, as she slowly waded backwards away from him. "You're so boring. What's life without taking risks?" His eyebrow shot up, making Daphne giggle. With a slow grin, he moved after her. "Boring, huh?" Daphne's eyes widened, realizing that her teasing was almost at its end. She then screamed and turned around to get away from him. But Leander was on her at no time. Laughing, he lifted her and put her over his left shoulder as if he were carrying a sack of hay. Daphne, too, was laughing, but she was telling him to put her down. "In a moment, naughty girl," he answered her, slapping her bare backside. "Some guts you have, accusing me of being boring." Daphne giggled and slapped his bottom, too. "I said put me down!" "That's no way to ask for a favour," he said, pinching the cheek of her butt. Daphne moaned, giggling. "You should know better." "I'm not asking for a favour," she said. "I'm giving you an order!" Leander made a show of glancing behind to look at her. Daphne's face was red due to the upside-down position of her upper body. She pouted at Leander, making him laugh. "I don't think that you're in a position of power at the moment," he observed. "You look more like a captive than a superior, little one." The naughty girl slapped his buttocks again. "Just put me down!" Amused, Leander at last did as she "ordered" when they were at the grassy bank. Daphne immediately snaked her arms around his neck and kissed his mouth. Leander pulled her close, resting his hands on both cheeks of her backside. The lady giggled against his mouth when she felt him pinching the cheeks. "Turn around for me?" he murmured when their lips parted. Without saying anything, Daphne did as he asked. He kept an arm around her waist and started kissing the nape of her neck, inhaling the scent of lavender that came from her hair. Daphne moaned in appreciation, her hand finding his cock and slowly stroking it. All of a sudden, thoughts of the immediate surroundings escaped his mind. Had anybody happened to find them, Leander would not have even noticed. The only thing that mattered was that he was with Daphne, their bodies pressed close together, radiating heat that came only from mutual desire. Eventually, he found Daphne on her hands and knees on the grass, and himself kneeling behind her. He held his cock on one hand while checking Daphne's sex with the other. She was wet and ready for him. He brushed her nether lips with the tip of his cock, coating the head with her juices, beore slowly pushing into her. Leander groaned as he took his time entering Daphne's waiting hole. Her inner muscles were ready, lubricating the passage of his cock. It did not make her hole any slacker, though; the muscles clung to his flesh with every in and out movement. Leander bit his lower lip, revelling in the feelings of her warmth, her tightness, while his ears were serenaded by the music of her whimpers and groans. "It feels --" she was saying "-- amazing, Leander." A gasp. "Gods! I can't believe we're doing this...this way." He could not believe it either. He was not only fucking Daphne, but fucking her from behind. As if that was not enough, she was on hands and knees on the grass; they were near a stream, hidden from immediate view. A primal position in a primal setting. The mere thought almost made him come. Leander let himself enjoy the feeling. Sheathed in her warmth, he felt as though he had eveything he needed in the world. No thoughts of tomorrow; only of today. If only Daphne felt the same way he did... The familiar tingle brought by impending orgasm started to pulse through his body. He knew he could do nothing but to give in, but give in he only would if Daphne, too, was close to the peak. So he reached around her body and started playing with her bud of pleasure. Daphne's groans became louder, more frequent. The sounds only pulled him closer to his release. When finally he could not hold back his seeds any longer, Leander buried himself deep into Daphne. Just as he felt himself exploding, he also felt Daphne's muscles contracting, milking his cock as she, too, reached the sexual climax. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 09 Spent at last, he lay down on the glass, panting. His heart was beating fast, trying to calm his body after such an exertion. Above them, the sky was a clear blue, broken here and there by clouds that spoke of no coming rain. Leander pulled Daphne so that she was lying on top of him. The lady looked totally spent. Her body was still trembling a little, as if accustoming itself to the loss of what had been buried inside. But she had a satisfied smile on her face. "So, am I still boring?" he asked, brushing off some strands of hair away from her face. "Uhmmm..." she made a show of being thoughtful. "Not so boring anymore, I guess." The general chuckled, accepting the kiss that she offered. Daphne sighed and put her hand on his chest, where she could certainly feel the beats of his heart. They spent a few more minutes in that position until their breathing returned to normal. Then, Leander suggested that they wash themselves and start heading back to the ducal palace. Once her skin was dry and she had on her robe again, Daphne sat on the grass and watched him finish washing his body. Leander joined her several minutes later, with nothing but a fresh pair of breeches on. He sat across her, amused by the way she was studying him. Daphne reached out and touched his chest, tracing the scar of one of the biggest wounds he got from battle. Leander could still remember the insanity in the eyes of the man who inflicted it to him, as well as the pain that came with the wound. That was about five years ago, in the Battle of the North, just before he took the oath that would bind him to service to the Duke of Wildercross. "Gabriel said that ten days from now, you and your men are marching," Daphne said quietly, her finger still gently caressing his old wound. Leander merely nodded. At least, he was spared the part of personally telling her the news. She dropped her hand and looked into his eyes. "Promise me that you'll come back." The general said nothing, studying Daphne's face. There was neither a flicker of doubt nor a trace of fear in her eyes. As if she has just given him an order to bring a message to some faraway kingdom. At the moment, Leander knew that she was not feeling the fear that never really left his heart. He almost laughed at the irony of it all. People say that the best warriors are those with nothing to lose, for they go to battle with only one purpose: to fight. They are the bravest ones among the ranks; they will stop at nothing, for they fear nothing. But Leander tends to disagree. For him, the best warriors are those who have something precious to guard -- someone special to come back to. They go to battle with only one thing in mind: to win. They are the ones whose hearts are filled with fear, but who join the battle anyway to return to those they loved. They are the ones who fight the hardest, who last the longest, and who almost always win, for they understand that the price of losing was the demise of those they have sworn to protect. And he was one of those -- those men who fought wars out of fear that if they don't, they will lose everything they hold dear. With ruthless force, he led his men without regrets, striking down their enemies with only one thing in mind: victory. So that he could come back and see Daphne again. So that he could protect her and all that she holds dear. "Promise me," Daphne said, her voice as clear as crystal as she touched his face. "You will come back to me, General." Leander took her hand and kissed her palm, his eyes never leaving hers. "I promise, my love." Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 10 AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dedicated to the amazing readers who took time rating, commenting, and sending feedbacks on Courting Daphne, and to those who generously added me or any of my stories to their favourite list. Thank you very much for the support. My love goes to you always, SF. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The silence of the night was broken by soft, childish giggles accompanied by gentle sounds of bare feet walking on lush carpet. Then, there was the silent chuckle of a man, muted at once by a pair of soft lips from which came a contented sigh. On the other side of the door where the man and the woman leaned, wide-eyed ladies-in-waiting stared at one other, frozen in their seats around the gaming table. "Are you sure you're not drunk?" Leander asked as he pulled the woman close to his body. Daphne pouted and lightly pinched his side. "I didn't even get to drink what I wanted. Besides, why should I ever want to get drunk, huh?" "Three reasons," Leander whispered, kissing the part of her neck closest to her ear. "One, you're home again after three years." He ignored Daphne's groan of exasperation, continuing, "Two, the war against Elgeshore is over, with the crown of victory resting on the heads of Thersalians. And, three..." "And three what?" the lady asked when he said nothing more. The general broke into a grin and gave her a peck on the cheek. "You're with me." Daphne once again giggled, pressing her body close to that of Leander. "You cite very good reasons to drown myself in wine, but a proper lady doesn't drink too much alcohol, especially when the party she's attending is a celebration of men." "Don't tell me that you're going to start saying that a proper lady drags a man away from his comrades so that she can have fun with him inside her bedchamber?" a chuckling Leander teased. The lady, too, chuckled softly, before winding her arms around his neck. "A proper lady doesn't do that, but I'm hardly a proper lady. Or, at least, I don't plan to be one tonight." Their mouths met. Both hungrily devoured the other. As if nothing else in the world mattered. As if there were no scandalized ladies trying hard to ignore the noises they were making behind closed doors. As their passions began running high, Daphne decided to finally open the door, dragging Leander inside. The room outside her private bedchamber was in total darkness, but she knew that her ladies-in-waiting were all awake, possibly sitting around an unfinished game of cards. They were, thankfully, all smart enough to blow out the candles and pretend that they were not witnesses to their mistress's scandalous behaviour. As if Daphne cared. Three years of not living in her father's house meant that she did not even know half of the women serving her. She had wanted the same bunch of ladies who served her before, but most of them politely declined and offered their daughters instead. Daphne, of course, took the younger girls in. There could be no better companions than silly girls who could be frightened into silence by one glare. In stark contrast to the previous room, the inner chamber was illuminated by numerous lanterns hung on the walls. It seemed that nobody has forgotten Daphne's dislike of darkness. Even after three years... But the lady was not interested in such sentimental thoughts right now. Her attention was focused only on the general who brought her back to her father: Leander Van Halen of the Army of the Black Wolves -- celebrated general, distinguished warrior: her protector, her lover. Not a word passed between them, but they were already moving in harmony. It was as though their bodies shared a secret language of passion and desire: mouths claiming possession of every inch of their partner's skin; hands busily stripping away pieces of clothing on their way; breaths meeting and mixing, feeding the fire that was slowly consuming their souls. Once both of them were fully naked, Daphne pulled Leander to the bed. Her first night back home, and she wanted to spend it in his arms. She had thought of it for days; nobody could have stopped her from sneaking Leander into her room so that they could make love all night. Not even the Duke of Wildercross, her own father. Locked in each other's arms, they started rolling on the bed. Neither one wanted to give the other the distinguished position of being on top. "Oh, Leander, be a gentleman!" Daphne murmured against the general's lips as he rolled on top of her. "I am, as always, your loyal servant, my lady," Leander replied, chuckling. "I will indeed be gentle with you tonight." Daphne softly laughed. It had been almost three months since they were last together; how could he promise to be gentle? But she was not insane enough to doubt her lover's promise. She, of all people, knew that Leander always did as he said he would. As Daphne began using her hands to stroke the muscular male body she knew and loved, Leander pried her legs apart. His hands settled themselves on her thighs, stroking gently. Daphne caught her breath. She needed no further stimulation down there. Even without the foreplay, she knew she was more than ready. After seeing him again, touching him again at the end of the three months they were apart, who would not be? If she has had her way, she would forget about foreplay and get down to business as soon as they were in bed together. Leander's tool has been hard for as long as she has been wet. Clearly, his cock was eagerly waiting to be buried inside her warm hole; there could not have been any complaints if she had impaled herself on it and not prolong the wait. But Leander did not want her to lead tonight. And, quite maddeningly, he did not want to take her as quickly as possible. Not that she would object to his chosen path. In truth, she was looking forward to feeling the magic of his touch again before she surrendered her whole self. So, with eyes closed, she took pleasure in his touch. There was no better way to feel how much he respected her than when he was making love to her gently. He held her and caressed her as if she was a rare porcelain vase, too fragile to hold with reckless abandon, too precious to break. He would drive her crazy, she knew. Maybe he already had. Daphne could still remember a time when she considered the norms of propriety every time she would say or do something. The memory seemed to come from a very distant past, striking a nearly-nonexistent cord that would sooner or later fade into nothingness. His caresses and kisses were driving her madder to have him inside. Her breaths were starting to come in gasps, and she all but grabbed Leander's cock and lead it into its waiting destination. Just when she was certain she'd die of not being one with him, her prayer was answered. She felt him easing his cock into her, gently stretching the opening of her wet core. Her body let him in without difficulty, as her hole was practically flooded with lubricating juices. "Open your eyes, little one," Leander whispered. "Savour the moment." His invitation was accepted, and as Daphne did as he advised, she felt the most tremendous feeling of satisfaction slowly engulfing her. Suddenly, she was more aware than ever of the gift Fate had delivered to her door right after endless restless nights of worrying for Leander while he was fighting in the battlefield. Leander was here, for real, staring into her eyes while they made sweet, passionate love. Here with her: alive, breathing, loving. She was almost overwhelmed. She pulled his face down to hers and planted a kiss on his mouth. He tasted of the wine he had been drinking before she dragged him away -- the best wine that could ever be found in this part of the world: fine, smooth, intoxicating. She pushed her tongue deep into his mouth to further acquaint herself with the taste, not merely of the wine, but also of him. Leander's tongue met hers, swiftly changing the pace of her exploration. With deliberate gentleness, he played, arousing her even more. Daphne groaned, arching her back so that her hips pushed upward to meet his gentle strokes. But Leander placed his hands on her hips, restraining her movements. "I want to enjoy you," he murmured against her lips before she could even complain. "Slowly..." Groaning, not much out of disappointment as out of longing, Daphne ceded all control to the general. Leander moved his face away from hers, staring into her eyes as he continued their slow, sensual dance. Looking into his eyes, Daphne finally understood why people said that the hottest flames are blue. Eventually, Leander began moving his hips in different directions. He even changed the pace of his strokes -- sometimes slow, sometimes fast. Daphne could do nothing but groan, louder and louder with each passing second. The feelings that assaulted her from the very pits of her being served to emphasize that the general was doing everything right. Leander slipped one hand between their bodies and began touching her clit while he continued to stroke his flesh in and out of her. Once again, Daphne's breaths were coming in gasps, and as her body started trembling, she finally closed her eyes again, giving herself up to a deeply fulfilling orgasm. The general did not stop then. He began pounding on her with enthusiasm. Daphne groaned, urging him on. Another climax hit her as Leander played with her nub of pleasure. Her groans and whimpers got louder. Repeatedly, she climaxed, as the general never really stopped stimulating her clit. Her head was spinning with unimaginable pleasure. Nothing else existed but herself and the orgasms that hit her one after the other. With no other choice, Daphne gave in to the successive, seemingly endless waves of bliss that washed over her body. Again and again, she reached the peak, each one bringing her higher than the last. She felt Leander's fingers intertwining with hers, heard him whispering loving words on her ear. She even felt his lips grazing along her cheek, felt the weight of his body pressed against hers. Her whole body was highly sensitized, yet, she barely remembered the details. Almost nothing registered on her mind as she rode out orgasms after orgasms, until, with a loud scream, everything melded into one mind-blowing, highly-gratifying finish. ***** Something light and soft was brushing against her cheek. Groaning, Daphne moved her face away. The "something" followed her, though, to her great dismay. It was brushing the tip of her nose now. Somewhat annoyed, she tried brushing it away from her face. Her hand found nothing. Now intrigued, the lady finally opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a muscle-packed torso. A groan escaped her lips. "Good morning." She looked up. Leander was grinning at her. He was leaning against the headboard. Daphne frowned, now puzzled as to what woke her up, until Leander waved a single feather at her. "Why did you wake me up?" she asked, the frown not leaving her face. "I still feel so drained..." Leander chuckled just as knocks sounded from the door. "That's why I woke you up." "Lady Daphne?" a lady's voice was asking from behind the door. "My lady, are you awake? The duke has been asking for you for nearly an hour!" Upon hearing that, Daphne's eyes widened. She suddenly sat up, looking around. Her room, she realized, was bright not because of the lanterns hanging on the walls, but because of the rays of the morning sun. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" she shouted, sounding aghast. "He will definitely kill me now!" Beside her, Leander chuckled as the lady behind the door fell silent. Snaking his arm around Daphne's waist, he whispered, "Actually, she has been pounding on that door for nearly one and a half hours. I'm surprised you never woke up." Daphne's eyes widened further as she looked at the general, before she whispered, "You jest, don't you?" But the truth of Leander's words was confirmed by her lady-in-waiting saying that she has been knocking on the door "for a great while." "Oh no," she groaned, closing her eyes. She would have a lot of explaining to do when she comes face to face with her father. She tried to break free of Leander's hold, but the general would not let go. "Leander, please, I need to go." Leander moaned, but not in assent. He took a deep breath and pulled her down to the bed again. "No, you don't. Not after you passed out on me last night." "I don't remember anything like that!" she complained in a whisper. The general chuckled. "Of course you don't. I told you. You passed out." Frowning, she tried to remember. Memories of last night seemed hazy at best, and Daphne realized that he might be telling the truth. Still, that did not erase the fact that she would be skinned alive by her own father if she keeps him waiting any longer. Before she could plead her case again, however, Leander's mouth was already covering hers. Moaning her objection, she tried to push him away. As one of his arms was still around her waist, Leander used his other hand to caress her mound. Daphne moaned again, although, this time, pleasure mixed with tentative objection. She allowed his tongue into her mouth, even responding to his kiss. Gods, wasn't he addicting? She parted her legs to give his hand better access to explore the centre of her womanhood. "My lady? Should we tell the duke that you're preparing to meet him?" At that instant, her lady-in-waiting's question was the last thing Daphne wanted to hear. She moaned her complaint, torn between remaining in Leander's arms and hurrying to her father's presence. The former would be pleasurable while the latter would be intimidating, but she knew her father would hear no excuses. She broke free from the kiss, asking Leander breathlessly, "Will you stay here while I talk to my father?" Leander groaned, his hand continuously stroking her now wet folds. "You know I can't. As soon as he is done talking to you, it won't be long before he asks for me." Again, she groaned, completely torn right now. "My lady? Shall we have the servants bring in your bath?" This was getting annoying. Did they really think she would open the door for them when Leander was still with her inside? She finally answered, "Give me thirty minutes!" The general chuckled and whispered on her ear, "That won't be long enough, my love." A gasp was torn from her as Leander began sucking on her hardening nipples. She arched her body, pushing her chest toward him. "Thirty minutes, my lady?" asked the woman behind the door. "No," she said, her response somewhere between a gasp and a moan. She did not doubt that her ladies would interpret it as a sign of what was keeping her inside the chamber. "An hour." "An hour, then, my lady," the woman repeated. Daphne moaned, combing her fingers through Leander's hair. The general let go of her waist and focused more on stroking her body as he switched his mouth from one nipple to another. His warm mouth around the tips sent tingles throughout her body, snaking downward to pool within her folds. "I will make it up to you," she promised softly. "This time, I won't pass out." Leander chuckled and rolled off her, taking her with him so that she was lying face down on top of him. Daphne sat up, feeling his erect manhood pressing against her backside. "You better not," Leander said. He then let go of his hold on her, spreading his arms in a grand gesture of ceding control. "The floor is all yours, my lady." Slowly, Daphne grinned, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Leander's mouth. One hour. She would enjoy every second of it. ***** Daphne lay awake on the bed, staring at the canopy. She was breathing hard. Leander was lying beside her, pretty much in the same shape she was in. There were no knocks on the door this time, but the lady felt something heavy and unsettling in the pit of her stomach. 'Pressure,' she thought, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. 'Because Papa waits.' She imagined herself getting the sermon of her life. The duke would be furious. She arrived the day before with Leander and his army, having left Elgeshore about a fortnight ago. Her father understood that she was tired from the journey, and so the duke postponed their meeting for one day. Today, she was supposed to finally have an exclusive conversation with her father. But she made him wait so that she could spend more time with Leander. "Lady Daphne?" Perhaps, the silence from her inner chamber was perceived by her ladies-in-waiting as a sign that she and Leander were done with their pleasurable business. Daphne sighed, opening her eyes again and looking toward the window. The morning light was long gone; the "one hour" she promised has already stretched to about five hours, and now, Daphne was sure she would get a long lecture from the duke about the importance of keeping appointments. "I'm all ready," she answered the call. She sat up on the bed and planted a kiss on Leander's lips. "Give me a moment." Leander smiled at her as she pulled the covers to his waist. "Afraid that they will find me irresistible?" She frowned at him, ignoring his comment. "You are so dead, General Van Halen. I believe there's not an easy route away from my chambers." The general merely laughed. "Won't you help me sneak out, since you were the one who dragged me in?" "No," she answered, starting to close the curtains around her bed. "You're on your own. That's my revenge for what you've done." There was a puzzled look on Leander's face. "What have I done?" She smiled sweetly at him before slipping on the fresh nightgown that was spread on the divan at the foot of her bed the night before. "You're so aggressive that I ended up feeling so sore." She watched as the man grinned, arranging himself more comfortably on the pillows. She blew him a kiss before finally closing the curtain at the foot of the bed. There was not a trace of joke in what she said. She was indeed sore in a sweet, special kind of way. It was not something she minds, for it was a reminder of what they have just shared. Anxious ladies-in-waiting rushed into her room when she opened the door. None of them asked her why the curtains around her bed were not drawn. Servants, too, were ushered in, carrying buckets and buckets of warm water for her bath. With dizzying swiftness, numerous pairs of hands assisted in washing her body. What should have taken more than one and a half hours was finished in as short as thirty minutes. Once she was dressed, she was ushered out of the room quickly. They did not even give her time to kiss Leander goodbye. Not that she would want to; she had no wish for the ladies to see Leander's glorious body and fall desperately in love -- or in lust at least -- with the general. No way. So she and her procession of young ladies all but ran along the hallways. Although hurrying, however, Daphne was still able to appreciate her surroundings. She noted that almost nothing changed. The same furniture lent grace and life to the vast structure that was the Duke of Wildercross' house. Mostly the same men and women were in service. The same jasmine scent floated in the air, blending with the peace and quiet of the house. 'I'm back,' she thought, happiness welling inside her. She might have run away from the Duke of Wildercross' estate, but this was still home. Her moment of reverie was interrupted by the realization that they have almost reached the door of her father's study. Knowing that whatever awaited her behind the huge oak doors was something unpleasant, she sent her ladies-in-waiting back to her chambers. The duke was seated behind his desk when she entered. The man was deep into whatever document he was reading, but he looked up when he heard the door open. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 10 "Are you hungry, Daphne?" he asked levelly. Although her stomach was starting to ask for food, Daphne shook her head. She had missed breakfast due to her decision of remaining in Leander's arms, and the whole household must already have eaten lunch, but she wanted to quickly get over with whatever it was her father wanted to talk about. "Then, let's get to the heart of the matter," the duke said, a frown now marring his handsome features as he leaned against his chair and gestured for his daughter to sit on the chair in front of the desk. "Tell me what kind of relationship you share with Leander Van Halen." Daphne blanched as she sat on the chair indicated. Her relief about her father's decision of letting her off the hook for most of her misdemeanours suddenly faded away. Certainly, he was not about to let her get away with this one. "I'm waiting, Daphne." She looked at him with worried eyes. The duke's voice was hard, icy. Even the look in his eyes was unforgiving. Daphne wanted a moment to think, but she knew that time was not a luxury she had right then. ***** The summons from the duke did not come, as Leander expected it to. There was not even a message telling him that the duke wanted to talk at all. Like the other generals who were staying in the estate, he dined with the ducal family earlier that night, but there was no word at all about what he was supposed to do in the house. Daphne, he noted, was somewhat not her usual self. After her meeting with the duke, he had not seen her until dinner, and after the meal, she was basically whisked away by her ladies-in-waiting. Leander wanted to talk to her, if only so that he could ask if she was all right. He was just contemplating how he could see Daphne again when he heard urgent, although soft, knocks on the door of his assigned room. The general put down his glass of wine to open it. When the door was ajar, he peered out to see Daphne nervously standing outside. She implored him with the look in her eyes, while softly saying, "Quickly! Let me in!" The urgency in her voice propelled him into quick action. As soon as she was inside, Daphne bolted the door, making sure that the bar was secure before facing him. Leander looked at her from head to toe. She was wearing a black hooded cape that reached the floor. Underneath it, he could make out the gown that she had been wearing to dinner. Daphne pulled back the hood to reveal her smartly dressed head before finally smiling at him. "Good evening, Leander," she said. He raked his eyes over her attire one more time before responding. "Good evening, little one. I was just thinking of you." A light blush coloured her cheeks as she dropped a small bundle on the floor and began untying the ribbon at the neck of her cape. "As I was. I wanted to see you badly, but it was so hard shaking off my ladies! I thought I'd get caught before I could knock on your door." "Lucky of you to have escaped detection," he commented, amused. Daphne did not seem to mind the taunting in his voice as she said, "Indeed. They will be looking for me, though. I just hope that they don't tell Papa." As she shed off the cape, her whole outfit was revealed. Leander stared. She looked exquisite in her gown. Earlier, when he glimpsed her from afar, he was immediately astonished. He knew that there was nary a man in the room who was not quite taken by her beauty. Up close, she looked more stunning. The purple colour of the dress emphasized her blonde hair, making her appear like a golden goddess wrapped in the colour of royalty. When Daphne realized that he was studying her, she threw the cape away and held the skirt of her gown before giving him a deep curtsy. Leander was thus given an unimpeded view of her cleavage, emphasized by the corset she was wearing underneath. The sight of those creamy globes of flesh peeking out of her gown aroused him. She glanced up at him then. He realized from the coy smile that adorned her lips that Daphne knew what effect the sight of her was having. Meanwhile, Leander suppressed the impulse to pull her close and ravage her. Instead, he took her hand and kissed her fingers. "You look ravishing," he said, staring into Daphne's eyes. "I'm completely captivated." She stepped closer to him, stopping only a foot away. "Are you really?" she asked softly, her eyes trained on his lips. "You did not look like it when I was wearing this for dinner earlier. You hardly even looked at me." "Ah, my love," he said, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Your father was watching." "Is that the real reason?" she asked, her eyes blazing. "I had a thought that it was because of my ladies-in-waiting." Before Leander could say a thing, she added, "I saw them looking at you, and you exchanged smiles with at least one of them." Hearing her talk like this made Leander want to kiss her. He grinned. "I have to be polite to your ladies if I want to sneak into your room again without causing any one of them to run to your father." "Polite?" she sounded aghast. "Did you see the way they blushed? You know, General Van Halen, if that's the best excuse you can give, then, forget about it. You're banned from entering my chambers anyway." "Banned? And why?" Daphne narrowed her eyes. "I don't want a roomful of ladies eyeing you with the clear intent of seducing you as soon as my back is turned." Leander could not resist chuckling. He put his hands on her hips, whispering, "Is that so?" The lady sighed and finally closed the distance between them, pressing her body close to his. There was no trace of amusement in her eyes when she looked up at him. "Don't laugh. I'm serious." He pulled her closer and asked softly, "Why do you worry so, Daphne?" She stared into his eyes. "I hate rivals, Leander. What's mine's mine. I never share." He took her hand and kissed it. "Who said that you'd ever share anything, my love? Why would I look at another when the most beautiful, most enchanting woman is standing right beside me?" "You mean it?" The smile that lit her face made her eyes twinkle. For Leander, she had never looked more beautiful. Groaning his agreement, he planted a soft kiss on her lips. Daphne responded with the same soft kiss, before they stared into each other's eyes. He felt his heart beating and imagined that he could sense the pounding of blood in his veins. Staring into her eyes, he felt as though time was frozen, as if the whole world has stopped moving. For a moment, Leander was breathless. Everything about Daphne radiated joy. Love. She was here of her own accord -- here to seek him out. She was here knowing that she was defying the orders of her father, the most powerful man in the land. She was here to be with him, not because of some call of the flesh, but because her heart has spoken. "Daphne?" The gaze she turned on him was full of trust, of anticipation. "Hmm?" Leander smiled, himself feeling a kind of joy he had never known before. "I have to tell you something." "What is it?" "You already know it," he observed, seeing the way she curbed a big smile. "No, I don't." Her attempt at lying was not working. Leander could read her eyes too clearly. "Of course you do." "What are you talking about?" Her eyes were laughing now, although she kept her face straight. "You must be mistaken. I have no idea what you want to tell me." "Ah." He kissed her lips briefly and whispered on her ear, "Go on lying and you will never hear it." Daphne giggled like a child, snaking her arms around his neck and kissing his lips again. "Of course I know. But I want to hear you say it." So he held her closer to him, staring into her eyes, "I love you." He touched her lips. "I love you with everything that is in me, with all the fervour and passion my heart knows, more than everything in the world combined. I love you more than life itself." He saw tears glistening in her eyes even as he watched her smile. Daphne then took his hand and kissed it, before softly saying, "And I love you, more than I could ever express in words." Not a second later, their lips were locked as they gently savoured each other's mouth. Daphne's hands rested on his chest. Leander put his own on her waist. No rush and no urgency this time around; they ran their palms along each other's clothed bodies to slowly explore. One by one, Leander removed the pins holding Daphne's hair in an elegant style. He watched the wavy strands fall down little by little, finally framing her lovely face. He ran his fingers through its silkiness, bringing a fistful of hair close to his nose to smell its intoxicating fragrance. Lavender. Blossoms that spoke of devotion, of love -- blossoms that best symbolize what he has to offer. With gentleness, he helped her out of the gown until it became a pool of purple silk around her feet. Neither of them spoke. In that stillness of the hours of soft shadows, all that they could hear was the whisper of skin rubbing against skin, the rustle of clothes being shed, the sound of their own breaths shaping the night. Leander helped Daphne shed her corset, followed by the poor excuse of see-through fabric they dared call a chemise. Both items fell on top of the silk as dark shadows that fell on a purple sea. As Daphne stood completely naked before him, the general was able to take in the sight of her glorious body. Every curve, every contour was emphasized by the soft light of the candles around the room. She stood before him as proud and noble as only a lady of her rank should, yet as humble and yielding as a woman in love would. Lovely. She was heartbreakingly lovely. Leander was certain that, when the authors of times past imagined the splendor that personified the goddess of beauty, they had in mind a woman as exquisite as Daphne. She smiled at him before starting to rid him of his clothes. Like him, she moved without hurry, as if shouting to the world that she was no longer a little girl eagerly tearing the wrapper off her most anticipated gift, but a young woman secretly taking pleasure in the art of carefully unwrapping a most precious present. Once she was done peeling off every piece of his clothing, Leander noted the way Daphne studied him -- as if she were memorizing every bulge of muscle, every scar, every line. He noted the way her eyes lingered on his cock, noted the way she lovingly admired it with her gaze. No wonder why it stood in full attention, grateful for the intimate acknowledgement. Having watched with slightly parted lips the way his member grew in size, Daphne met Leander's gaze. He could not suppress the grin that spread across his face. The lady, although blushing, smiled back. Her own nipples were starting to get hard. Daphne slowly moved to his arms, and Leander lifted her up from the floor, keeping her in the upright position. She touched his face, placing her forehead upon his, so that her hair fell like a veil of golden waves, shielding their faces from direct light. Leander closed his eyes as he felt Daphne's lips pressed against his. Those were the same pair of lips that had been all over every inch of his flesh numerous times before -- a pair of lips that he had always found intoxicating, lips that had taken him to the brink of pleasure and beyond. He kissed back with equal passion, matching the very heat with which she kissed. As soon as the breathtaking kiss ended, Leander headed for the bed. He deposited her gently before lying beside her. Another kiss was shared, before Daphne climbed over him. "Say it again," she whispered, staring into his eyes. "I want to hear it, over and over." The general smiled at her, kissing the tip of her nose. "I love you." He rolled over so that she was now under him. "I love you" -- a kiss on the corner of her mouth -- "I love you" -- a kiss on her cheek -- "I love you." Daphne smiled, reaching out to kiss him fully on the mouth. Leander positioned himself between her thighs, caressing her folds. She wrapped her legs around his waist, silently telling him that she was ready. So he made love to her -- slowly, gently, passionately: willing her to know how much he cared, how much he treasured her; he made love to her knowing that the moments they were sharing were something sweet, sublime, sacred. And when she was finally asleep in his arms, he whispered a heartfelt "I love you" on her ear, before kissing her hair, savouring the faint scent of lavender until he drifted off to a dreamless sleep. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 11 Soft morning light has already flooded the room when Leander woke up. The curtains of the canopy were parted, so that he had an unimpeded view of the window, next to which Daphne stood, clad in a soft nightdress, looking out to the garden. The general smiled, watching the way the light played on Daphne's golden hair, which was tidied up in a single, loose braid. It appeared to him as though the lady had a halo around her head -- an amusing sight, given that he knew her more as a temptress than an angel. Still, when she turned around to face him, her face was as innocent as a babe's, as breath-taking as a goddess's. "How did you manage to get up from the bed without waking me?" he asked, propping himself up on the pillows as her lips curved up in a smile. "Magic," she answered, slowly walking back to the bed. "Didn't you know? I am much learned in the dark arts..." Leander laughed. "I should say, given that you have quite enchanted me." Daphne crawled up the bed, slithering on top of him. The impish smile on her lips reinforced Leander's conviction that she was no angel sent to save a man's soul. "Right. I'm warning you now, General Van Halen: should you try to leave me while I'm still madly in love with you, you would pay quite dearly." "I am your thrall for as long as you want me to be," he murmured before gently pulling down her face so that he could kiss her lips. "Perfect," Daphne purred as she pressed her body against his. She gently moved to and fro, rubbing against his naked flesh. The reaction of his body was immediate, and there was no doubt that Daphne noticed, for her smile widened even more. "You as good as promised to stay with me your whole life." "And I will, given the chance," he said, stroking her thighs beneath her clothing. The silky feel of her flesh on his palm fueled his desire. "But where did you get this dress?" Daphne smiled coyly, glancing down between his legs, where his cock was starting to stir up. "I brought it last night, remember?" Leander, in fact, did not remember, yet he deduced that it was the content of the small package she dropped on the floor as soon as she was inside the room. "You look much more beautiful without it," he told her. Unable to resist the temptation, he started to lift up the hem of her dress. The lady giggled and slapped his hand before swiftly moving off him. "Behave, Leander. Breakfast will be served soon." He stared at her, disappointment written all over his features. With the disappointment came the feeling of disbelief, for how could Daphne be so naughty as to deny him the pleasure of feeling the warmth of her body, even for a while? The twinkle in her eyes said it all: she was deliberately teasing him. "I assume we cannot skip it?" he asked, opting not to give her the pleasure of hearing his complaint. "Not today," she replied. "Papa sent a servant here earlier so that we may know that the two of us are wanted at the mess hall this morning." That surprised him. "The Duke knows that you're here?" "I was missing all night," Daphne said, rolling her eyes. "Since you were not shaken awake last night to lead a search for me, Papa knows I was spending the night with you." "Makes me wonder why he did not order his men to tear down the door of this room and drag you out while I await execution," he mused aloud as he, too, got out of bed. "He does not want more men to see me naked," Daphne said, smiling. "One is enough." Leander raised an eyebrow, now more surprised than ever. Whatever Daphne and her father discussed the day before might have put the lady's mind at ease. Why else would she treat lightly the whole idea of her father violently opposing her decision of sleeping with Leander? "You are worried," Daphne observed when Leander said nothing. "What man won't be worried when he has his whole happiness on the line?" he replied. "I wish I could tell what's going on inside your father's head." When he noticed the small smile playing on Daphne's lips, he added, "In fact, I'd love to know what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours, too." She walked close to him to wind her arms around his neck. "It's a secret for now, General. When time is ripe, you will surely know." "I hate being kept in the dark, Daphne," he grumbled, although he took avail of her offered kiss. "I thought I told you that a long time ago." "Hmm." The impish smile was back on her lips again. "Don't think of it that way. Just pretend that we have a little surprise for you, and that the longer you wait to know what it is, the sweeter and the better it will turn out to be." "You, I can imagine doing that," he said. "But your father? If he ever has a surprise for me, it would be anything but sweet and good." Daphne laughed softly. "You have such low opinion of my father." "Low?" He arched his eyebrow. "Who told you that? How can I look down on the only man on earth I'm afraid of?" "Ah." Daphne, now through with the game of slowly torturing him, began pointedly grinding her hips against his. Leander's member responded eagerly. "You are afraid of my father, yet you are not afraid of me? Or my mother?" Leander groaned and kissed her head, savouring the faint fragrance of lavender still emanating from it. He could get used to this. "Ah. If you ask me about the women I'm scared of, the list will be endless." Daphne giggled, now running her palms on his exposed chest. The touch of her soft flesh stroking its way down to his abdomen made his muscles tense up even more. "Afraid of me, then?" she whispered as she wrapped her fingers around his hard cock. "Afraid," he repeated, moaning his appreciation when he felt Daphne gently stroking his member. "Oh, god, yes, very afraid of you." There was fire in here eyes when she said softly, "I like the sound of that." Leander groaned once again, pulling Daphne closer so that he could run his hand along her spine. "I like the feel of that." "So it seems," Daphne agreed, lightly squeezing his shaft. She moaned, apparently enjoying the way his member felt on her palm. A shaky sigh escaped her lips as she whispered, "My god, Leander. You're so big when you're hard that it makes me ache so much. I want you inside me, hard and hot and wild, filling me completely." He sighed, bending down to kiss the side of her neck. "Why don't you lead me in?" Daphne took in a sharp breath, moving her face away in order to stare into his eyes. She then said, "What about breakfast?" "Who the hell cares about breakfast?" he asked with a grin. She smiled coyly, pushing him to the bed. "Exactly." Leander laughed softly, gladly receiving her in his arms when Daphne crawled over him for the second time that morning. This time, she let him pull the nightdress off her, while undoing the braid of her hair on her own. It has been a while since she allowed him see her naked in broad daylight; Leander was once again wonderfully amazed. Gods, Daphne still has the most enchanting body he had ever seen, and that was saying much, as he had been with countless women before. Her curves were all perfect, and she bore herself with a kind of confidence that would make even a queen jealous. She was lovely and she knew it, and -- hell -- she would never let him forget. In fact, she would torture him with that fact, given the chance, for as long as she could. As gently as he would hold a crystal glass, he cradled Daphne close, relishing the feel of her body so close to his. The warmth and softness of her skin was enough to make his already stiff member harden some more. The sweet scent that stuck to her was intoxicating. Everything in her was calling out to his inner sexual beast, which was just now raging to be unleashed. "Love me, Leander," Daphne cooed, looking at him with eyes that reflected the fiery passion that must also be evident in his eyes. "I need you so much." He cupped the back of her head, pulling it down for a kiss. Daphne parted her lips without hesitation, completely giving in as his tongue demanded entrance into her mouth. His other hand, he used to cup her breast, using his thumb and forefinger to slowly tease her bud. Daphne moaned against his mouth as her hands became restless, exploring his upper body in near-frantic fashion. "Slowly, sweet one," he whispered on her ear as he rolled on the bed so as to get Daphne under him. "We'll get there." The gaze Daphne trained on him was filled with both longing and trust; Leander did not have to see the small nod she gave him in order to know that she would do as he said, that she would follow his lead. Maybe it was a small thing, but it was stuff like that that brought her ever closer to his heart. To know that a woman would trust him as much as Daphne does -- to a warrior who was used to lies and deception, that was perhaps the greatest compliment of all. "My precious one," he murmured, burying his face on the crook of her neck. "My lovely Daphne." She released an almost inaudible sigh as she put her hands around him, her palms splayed on his back. Meanwhile, Leander touched her mound, gently stroking it. Her fine curls were already wet, and the juices that flowed from her hole were indication that she was more than ready for him. Leander did not want to make her wait, knowing that, sooner or later, servants would be sent to his room to fetch Daphne for breakfast. But the silky feel of the fluids on his palm was more than irresistible. He wanted to prolong the moment of contact, fan as he was of everything about the woman he held in his arms. With his fingers he sought the bud of Daphne's wonderfully sensitive core, anticipating the groan that came from her later. He felt the slightest thrust of her hips as she tried to rub her mound on his palm, seeking for as much pleasure as his hand could provide. Leander granted her desire, slipping a finger inside her as he kissed her bare shoulder. Daphne once again moaned, now moving her hips with clear intent. She wanted more; she wanted it soon. "My love, please," she sighed, gently combing her fingers through his hair. "I want you..." "And I want you, too," he responded, taking her hand with his free one so that he could kiss its palm. "I love you so much, Daphne." She caressed his face, slightly smiling, while her eyes darkened with passion. "I love you, too, Leander." Their mouths met, hungry for each other, while Leander continued slowly stimulating her nether region. Daphne moved her legs further apart, hooking one of them on his thighs to grant him better access to her most treasured possession. Leander put in another finger into her hole, caressing her inner walls, further coaxing her juices to flow. As their mouths parted, Leander took in a deep breath, inhaling the mixed scents of their sweat and Daphne's essence. A most animalistic desire overcame him as he savoured the intoxicating scents that assailed his nostrils. The sound of Daphne's ragged breathing and continuous moaning did nothing to decrease his desire; if any, it further fueled it. Supporting Daphne's body, he slowly rolled onto his back, taking her with him. He wanted her on top, where she could do as she wanted to fulfill her longing for his flesh. If the best way to satisfy this woman was to cede control, Leander was more than prepared to do it. Anything to please her. Anything for Daphne. Now without him to restrain her, Daphne immediately reached for his cock, squeezing it appreciatively before impaling herself on it. Leander had the most exquisite feeling as he was welcomed into her depths, surrounded by her warm wetness. The tightness of her inner walls squeezing his pole of flesh was highly gratifying. "You fill me up so completely," Daphne purred, taking the hand which had been stimulating her folds a few moments ago. She kissed it, inhaling the scent of her own juices while staring into Leander's eyes. She began gently rocking back and forth, her every movement giving the general immense pleasure. "I always feel empty without you." Leander groaned her name, his hands dropping to her waist as Daphne began increasing the pace of her ride. He watched as she closed her eyes, her lips parted, her head thrown back, her hair in glorious disarray, cascading down her back in a rich golden hue reminiscent of threads of silk used for the finest gowns. Gods, how he loved her! Leander could not help but close his eyes, drowning in the sensations that each pump of Daphne's hips brought. From outside came the sounds of subdued laughter and barked orders, as the Duke of Wildercross's servants were starting their day's work. Not that either Leander or Daphne cared; after all, lovers in the highest peak of passion were oblivious to the world around them, knowing nobody but each other, aware of nothing but the sensations that assaulted their bodies from the intimate joining of flesh and the imminent release that came afterwards. As the heat of the moment ebbed, Daphne rested her head on Leander's shoulder, moving off him to settle by his side. They were both breathing hard, both bathed in sweat, both trying to put their thoughts back in order as awareness of the world started coming back. "That was amazing," Daphne said. Leander kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her. "You are amazing." The lady looked up at him to smile. "So are you." They shared another kiss before falling silent, locked in an embrace while they waited for their breathing to calm down. ***** As reality sank back in, however, Leander's thoughts led him to the Duke of Wildercross. If the Duke was aware that Daphne was sleeping in his room, the confrontation with Daphne's father had to come soon -- perhaps even today. And in spite of Daphne's optimism, Leander had his misgivings. No father as wealthy and influential as the Duke would let such matters go smoothly; the best case scenario was that Leander would be ordered to leave Daphne, never to see her again. 'Can I endure that?' he thought, still extremely aware of the feel of her body against his. She appeared so vulnerable, so feeble, as she curled up beside him like that, and Leander knew that he could never leave her -- not even if there was a threat of painful death looming over him. He would die first before he leaves Daphne. "Your mind is wandering," the lady commented after a while. He did not try to cloak his qualms. "Your father is sure to talk to me today." Heaving a huge sigh, Daphne propped herself on her elbow so that she could look at his face. Her other hand, she used to trace patterns on his chest. "You are still apprehensive." "Until I find out what's in his mind, I will remain so." Daphne flashed a small smile. "My father has a heart, Leander, and I know that I own a great chunk of it. He will accommodate my wishes. He will not deny me my desire." Leander, too, sighed, as he returned her smile. "It's precisely because he loves you that he will object to a relationship between the two of us. You are a lady -- " "An illegitimate daughter, if you have forgotten," Daphne interjected. "Even so," he insisted. "You still have noble blood flowing in your veins, and I am a mere soldier who fights for the kingdom under your father's banner." "You are not a mere soldier," Daphne said, now sitting up. "You are the man who took care of me since I was a little child -- the man to whom I owe my life. You are the general who saved me from the grasp of an unknown soldier when I was in Elgeshore -- " "A soldier I was supposed to command in the first place," he reminded her. "Besides, I am the same general who robbed you off the very thing that that soldier coveted -- your innocence." Daphne frowned and stared at him for a long time, before asking silently, "Are you giving up on me, Leander? Just because Papa might not approve?" He sat up, too, leaning against the headboard. "No, it's not that. I just want you to see the whole picture so that you know what to expect. I don't want you to have such high hopes if they would have to be dashed afterwards." "I see the whole picture," Daphne told him, standing up to retrieve the nightdress he discarded earlier. "I know that Papa may still decide to keep me away from you, but I choose not to think about that." She slipped back into the nightdress. "Once, when I was younger, Papa told me that one of the greatest powers of the human mind lies in its ability to see the future in a positive light. If you can think that the future will bend to your will, chances are that it will. If there's one lesson from Papa that I dare not ever forget, it's that one. So I want to believe right now. If the future, which some people think is predetermined, could bend to people's wishful thinking from time to time, then, there's a possibility that my father, who most people think never changes his mind, would cave in this one time and let me decide for myself." Looking at her as she tried to make her case, Leander was surprised to realize just how much Daphne has grown. Sure, he never thought her shallow, but he never expected her to have this kind of conviction either. Which was very strange, given that he had seen her resolve before, when she was plotting to get away from him in Elgeshore. "Forgive me, little one," he found himself saying after a while. Daphne smiled woefully, bending a little to plant a kiss on his lips. "Just try, Leander, won't you? I have already talked to Papa, and he was not as scary and authoritarian as I thought he would be. Just try to make him understand, and maybe he will." He sighed, grinning at her. "I don't even know why I worry so. He will never succeed in convincing me to leave you, anyway. Even if he throws me away, I will come back to you." He took her hand. "Maybe it's just because I don't want to lose you, ever, even for just a moment." Upon hearing that, Daphne smiled with true mirth in the corner of her lips. "You will never lose me. Never." ***** The coat-of-arms of the House of Wildercross hang on the ceiling behind the Duke's imposing chair, and as he waited for the man to arrive, Leander could not help but stare at it. Even now, after all these years, the sight of it still intimidates him. Perhaps because it was a symbol of power, the banner of the house that kept Thersale and the surrounding kingdoms at peace until recently. The war that took place, now won by Thersalians, once again proved the power of this house, and it would be decades, perhaps even centuries, before another kingdom attempts to challenge it again. Not for the first time, Leander wondered why the House of Southair ruled the kingdom, when it was the House of Wildercross that held all the power. It would not take much for Wildercross to usurp the throne should he want to, having been descendants of the house that contested Southair's claim on the throne centuries ago. But he did not, and Leander was pretty certain that he would never. Indeed, Daphne's father was a great enigma. He was so hard to discern. Here was a man who could raze a city to the ground with the mere flick of his fingers, yet he did not want to claim the throne - not even if he controlled two-thirds of the kingdom's army, not even if it was his power and influence that kept other kingdoms at bay. He had a reputation for cruelty, yet the love he showed for his illegitimate daughter was even greater than the affection other fathers felt for their legitimate sons. So, perhaps there was a basis for Daphne's optimism. The only time the Duke forced his will upon his daughter was when he arranged a marriage for her almost three years ago. But when Daphne ran away, he sent men to look for her -- not to bring her back, but to find out if she was all right. He only sent Leander to bring her back to Thersale when the war broke out. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 11 Leander was still deep in thoughts when the Duke finally arrived, clothed in black as he always was. The general rose to greet him, but the Duke ordered him to remain seated. "I have read the reports of your campaign," the Duke said without preamble as he sat on the chair at the other side of the desk. "I must say, I'm quite impressed, especially when you were able to get Northcove to arm for Thersalian cause." "I'm afraid it's not my efforts that convinced him to do so, Your Grace," Leander admitted. "It was your daughter who recruited Northcove to our side." The Duke merely nodded, before discussing with him the details of his campaign. A servant came and went, bearing drinks and snacks, and the only things the Duke and the general talked about were the events of the recent war. Leander felt uneasy, knowing that Daphne's father did not ask for a meeting merely to recount his experiences in the battlefield. As each minute ticked by, his apprehension increased, reaching its peak just as they were - finally! - going over the details of what happened in Northcove. "I understand that this Sylvia woman had been your mistress?" Leander attested to the certainty of the Duke's information. "She was also the one who sent reports of what went on in our camp to Norcross." The man's icy stare made him uneasy. "And this woman, together with the others who aided her, are imprisoned in Northcove right now?" "Yes, Your Grace." Gods, why would he not get to the heart of the matter? Surely, he must know the truth in every boring detail of the written reports sent to him? "The Duke of Northcove has expressed his wish, however, that the prisoners be transferred to Thersalian land as soon as possible." "Very well." Wildercross leaned back on his seat, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. It reminded Leander of Daphne's habit of doing the same thing, and he was once again struck by the acute realization that she was a Wildercross through and through. "Am I to assume, then, that things are quite in order now?" He confirmed it. "As much as they can be put in order in such a short time, Your Grace." When the man nodded and his icy countenance returned, Leander knew that the moment has come for them to discuss the real reason why he was sent to the Duke's study. "I received information that you are my daughter's lover." Wildercross raised an eyebrow. "Are you?" Feeling his guts tightening, Leander nodded. "Yes, Your Grace." "Hmm." The man stood up, walking to the window, whose parted curtains allowed him to see the view outside. "When did you become her lover?" As Leander answered the question, he realized where the Duke was heading to. He first claimed Daphne while the armies of Elgeshore and Thersale were at war -- when he was still officially working for the Duke of Wildercross. As such, he was expected to carry out the duties given to him exactly as they were -- at least, when it comes to the Duke's daughter. "You are aware, of course, that you disobeyed my command the moment you took her?" Wildercross asked. "You were specifically asked to search for Daphne and bring her home. True, I asked you to fight for Thersalian cause, yet, your priority was in finding her. You were allowed to kill as many enemies as you could and to take women as prizes, but you were not to lay a finger on my daughter." The Duke paused and glanced back at him. "Is that right?" Leander decided to remain silent. He would not speak to add fuel to the fire raging within the Duke. He knew that even though the man kept his front, deep inside, Daphne's father wanted him dead for what he has done. "I trusted you to keep her safe," the Duke continued, turning his back on Leander once again. Whatever it was that he found interesting outside must be keeping his attentions. "I expected you to send her safely home when your duty to the kingdom conflicted with the specific duty I placed upon your shoulders. But, you decided to keep her with you." He took a deep breath, perhaps to control his mounting anger. "Had something terrible happened to Daphne, you would not have been given the opportunity to face me and offer any explanation. You would have been dead a long time ago." The general knew, of course, that the Duke was right. He placed Daphne's life in danger when he decided to keep her. He even left her in the care of a very few men when he had to fight the army of the son of Elgeshore's king. Leander has realized that months ago, when he left Daphne in Northcove during the last bouts of war. It was the exact reason why he did not let her come with him even though she had begged him to. "Forgive me, Your Grace," he managed to say. "It was a lapse in judgment. I wanted to be with her even for a while. I'm deeply sorry to have thought about myself before thinking about her." "It's in the past, Van Halen. Nothing terrible happened to her, which is lucky for you. But, how many more lapses in judgment will prevent you from doing what's best for my child?" He used the Duke's own words to answer the question. "As you said, my lord, it was all in the past. To judge my future decisions due to a previous poor performance is rather unfair. I swear on my honour as a man that I will never let anything terrible happen to Daphne." The Duke faced him again. "And you expect me to trust you? Like you said, you made a poor performance in the past -- " "And I intend never to do that again," he insisted. "Ha!" The Duke returned to the desk, standing across from Leander, looking as irritated as Leander never saw him before. "A man's promise to the one who fathered his beloved. You expect me to believe that? I have known far too many men to know that not everyone keeps his words." "Not every one of them is Leander Van Halen." He looked straight into the Duke's eyes. "Give me the chance to prove my words and my honour, Your Grace. You will not regret it." Wildercross placed his hands on the desk, leaning forward with narrowed eyes to scrutinize him. "I won't regret it? I already regret hiring you to bring my daughter home. You talk about honour, yet, what honour led you to claim a woman against her will? Will you try to tell me that my daughter was willing to let you have her when you first took her? Will you, Van Halen? Because, I'm telling, I will not believe it." "Yet it's the truth." He remembered the first time he claimed Daphne. He gave her a choice; she decided to let him take her. "Let's say it is," the Duke argued. "Was she sober when she gave you her permission? Or was she drunk with pleasure? Were you seducing her?" Unwilling to disclose any detail of his sexual experiences to the Duke, Leander remained silent. The man, it seemed, was not waiting for his response anyway. "Tell me!" the Duke continued to rage on. In all the years of his life, Leander never knew that this man -- the Duke of Wildercross -- was capable of losing such control. He was always depicted as the cold-hearted, icy-faced Duke who never let anyone see through his facade; who knew that the subject of his daughter would show the fire he was hiding inside? "What honourable man seduces his lord's daughter, especially when she is so vulnerable?" Leander did not hesitate on his reply. "A man desperately in love with her, my lord." "Love." The arching of Wildercross's eyebrows displayed a life-long cynicism -- or so it seemed to Leander. "You dare to speak of love? Not everything in this world is about love, General. You, of all people, should know that above all, there is duty. For it was your duty to fight for the kingdom. It was your duty to protect Thersalians. It was your duty to guard my daughter." "Forgive my insolence, but Your Grace, of all people, should know that I spent my whole life fulfilling my duties," he responded. "Yet, I cannot live life that way; I refuse to. Because if I do, I would be labelled inhumane." He looked at the Duke levelly. "Heartless. Cruel." The slight narrowing of the Duke's eyes told Leander that the man knew exactly how to read between the lines. Strangely enough, he said nothing about the general's attack. Instead, he said, "The way you are presenting yourself to me, General, I must conclude that you are not a man who can control my daughter. She's got you wrapped around her little finger." "It will entertain me very much to prove you wrong," Leander challenged. "Besides, my lord, Daphne does not need any man -- anyone -- to control her." "No wonder why you allow her to run wild," the Duke said, now getting back his composure as he sat on his chair. "Letting her visit you in your room when everybody's watching her every move..." "If it keeps her happy and out of trouble, then, yes, Your Grace, I do let her do that," he answered. "It is hurting her reputation, Van Halen." "As long as it does not hurt anything else about her," Leander replied. "Life is more than mere reputation, Your Grace." The Duke shook his head, getting up from his chair and opening the bottle of wine on top of the nearby table. "What do you need to leave Daphne, Van Halen? Lands, gold, rank -- name anything and it is yours, as long as you never show yourself to my daughter again." He never expected himself to cross words with Wildercross, but the circumstances were asking for it. "You can offer the whole world to me, Your Grace, and I will still refuse. She is worth to me more than life itself." "Does it never occur to you that I can take that life away from you in an instant?" "I'm sure you can," he said. "But if you want to, I won't be sitting here conversing with you." "You are an impossible bastard, Leander Van Halen," hissed the Duke, who returned to the desk with two glasses of wine, one of which he offered to the general. "You tempt me to send you to the next available executioner." "Then do so, my lord, if it pleases you," Leander said, shrugging. He could not place what it was, yet, there was something about the Duke's countenance that made Leander think the man was actually amused by the whole conversation. "But let me love Daphne until my very last breath." The Duke leaned back on his chair, watching the wine inside the crystal glass as he made it swirl. "I once loved a woman, too, General." He paused to shake his head. "And you're right. The woman you love is worth more than anything, even everything, in the whole world. But you must keep it in your heart that, when duty calls, you must answer, even if it means letting that woman go." Leander never thought he would be brave enough to pry into Wildercross's life, but there was no other way to keep the conversation going. "Is that why you let her go?" "I would never have let her out of my sight otherwise," the Duke responded. And, much to Leander's surprise, he smiled, if bitterly. After a sip of the wine, he added, "She was the most amazing woman in this world." He paused, raising an eyebrow at the general. "Daphne is proof of that." "Did it make you happy?" Leander inquired. "Letting her go?" "It was never about my happiness," the Duke confessed, sipping from the glass again. "I had no choice." "Do you think it made her happy?" he asked, now remembering Daphne's mother, remembering how the Duchess used to cry for apparently no reason at all. Daphne's father shook his head. "Anna understood. She knew there was nothing we could do, regardless of whether she is happy about the arrangement or not." Seeing the sadness that crept into the Duke's eyes made Leander wonder aloud, "What is worth more than the happiness of the woman you love?" Again, that bitter smile crossed the Duke's face as he counted off his fingers. "The peace of my kingdom. The security of my people. The future of my daughter." Then, looking intently at Leander, "and of my son." Leander stiffened. Son? The Duke has three legitimate sons by his wife, but, surely, he could not be talking about them? "Your son?" "Lord Zachary, courtesy Marquis of Leraid," came the reply. "My own flesh; my own blood." The general merely nodded, drinking his wine. He had seen the styled Lord Leraid before; the boy is the future Duke of Brayhorn, after all. And nobody who had seen the Marquis would doubt that he was a Wildercross, for he was in fact the younger replica of his father. It was a secret everybody knew, although neither the Duke and Duchess of Brayhorn nor the Duke of Wildercross ever confirmed it. Until now. "I do hope, my lord, that there are no such duties that prevent you from granting me permission to stay with Daphne and make her happy?" he asked after a moment of silence. "I'm disappointed that there is none," admitted the Duke, "yet, there are things that you need to understand, General." He stood up to get the bottle of wine he opened earlier. "Daphne has spoken her mind to me. I know she favours you, perhaps even loves you. She wants to be with you for the rest of her life." He stared at Leander when he finally sat back on his chair. "But there are decisions that are yours to make alone. Listen to what I have to say, forget your feelings for a while, and use your head." Leander frowned. "You have me puzzled, Your Grace." "Good." Wildercross poured wine to both of their glasses. "I hope you have not made arrangements for the rest of the day. There are things we need to talk about." ***** "Sister!" Leonard, courtesy Marquis of Raidencourt, heir apparent of the Duke of Wildercross, called Daphne as he and his brothers were heading for the stables. "Would you like to join us?" Daphne, who had been brooding ever since she learned that Leander was called to her father's study, approached the boys. Leonard was fourteen, already looking very much like a man. Tall and fair, his hair as blonde as Daphne's, he was ready to break young girls' hearts. Anthony was two years younger than Leonard, but looking as mature and handsome as his brother. The youngest, Jeremy, was but nine, and was the recipient of his brothers' constant teasing, but the boy was a playful one, too, and never took offense. She had observed that none of the three were close to their mother, the Duchess of Wildercross. Not that Daphne was surprised. When your mother was as frigid and dispiriting as Lady Cornelia, you would most likely not want to be with her. "Where are you going?" she asked the boys. "Horseback riding," answered Jeremy, beaming at her. He then pointed to the north, where a hill as located. "We will go to the top of the hill, urge our horses to a canter, and then make them run for a race once we're down, or at least when we feel like making them run is not dangerous anymore." "So, do you want to come?" asked Leonard. "The Duke purchased more horses a few months ago, so you have a lot of them to choose from." The smile on the Marquis's lips told Daphne that her brother has not forgotten her fascination with horses. She smiled back. "Sure. A warning, though." She paused for effect. "Get ready for a sound defeat." "Oh, this girl has got guts," Anthony said, grinning. "Don't you need to change into a riding habit first, though?" "Who needs that?" Daphne asked, leading them to the stables. A quarter of an hour later, she was sitting sidesaddle on her father's favourite white stallion, Whitespark, amidst the objections of her brothers and the Stablemaster. "You know that His Grace's horses are exclusively for his own personal use, right?" Jeremy asked, urging her to dismount. "Come on, Sister, you don't want to see him enraged!" Daphne would not be dissuaded, though. "I've always wanted to ride Whitespark, and today seems to be the right time." "Please, my lady," the Stablemaster pleaded, pale and sweating as he tried to negotiate. "I assure you that His Grace's stable has the finest horses in the land. I will give you the fastest of the lot if only you would not bring Whitespark out." "No, I'm fine with him." Daphne leaned forward and stroked the animal's neck. "We'll make a great team, won't we, Whitespark?" Then, turning to the Stablemaster, she said, "Besides, you already put the saddle on him. It's all right. Papa will probably never know as long as none of you speak of it." Leonard drew a deep breath. "You are very troublesome, Daphne. If His Grace finds out, we will all miss dinner tonight." She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it's good to fast sometimes so that you may realize how hard it is for most people to earn their meals." She turned to the Stablemaster again. "Worry not. I will tell the Duke that I stole the horse if bad comes to worst." Knowing fully well that Daphne could not be asked to change her mind, the Stablemaster bowed low before leaving the Duke's children. "So, are we starting the race or not?" Daphne asked, urging Whitespark to walk towards the hill to the north. Anthony burst out laughing as he followed his sister. "Oh, you really have some guts!" Daphne smiled, feeling a sense of triumph as the four of them headed for the hilltop. She only wanted her father to know that she was as stubborn as she had been all those years back. She wanted to tell him through insubordination that, whatever he did, she would not succumb to his wishes -- if he wanted her to leave Leander, that is. As soon as they were at the top, Leonard began the countdown for the race. Daphne led Whitespark to a canter, eager for the moment when she could urge him to run. The exercise vividly reminded her of her younger days, when she would go out riding with her father and his company. She had been taught how to ride since she was five, and by the time she was seven, her father allowed her to join his hunting party as long as she had two companions who were always riding close to her. Their party would use the top of this hill as starting point, too, riding out to the western part of the duchy where the forest was found. Her favourite part was when they would see a game and run after it, for it was when she could urge her horse to a run and get away with whatever pace she used. Always, Daphne found the activity exhilarating. With the cold breeze on her face and the sweet scent of the grass and the earth greeting her nose, Daphne felt as free as the wind itself, unpinning her hair and undoing the intricate style her ladies-in-waiting took pains applying to it. It was, for her, still the best way to take her mind off things, and it was on this very moment that she wanted herself to stop pondering the fate of her affair with Leander. She knew that her father called the general to talk about it -- and how long their conversation was! Her worry had turned to brooding silence and restlessness and might have evolved to bouts of anger if her brothers did not provide a way for her to unwind. She remembered Anthony Renard's warning, whispered to her the night they arrived at Wildercross, when Leander was busy talking to other generals at the party her father held for Thersalian victory in the war: "Your father was outraged when he found out that Leander took you as his lover. My spies told me that it was the first and only time they saw the Duke lose control, and for a time, they were afraid that he would send assassins to kill Van Halen in Elgeshore. The only thing that might have made him reconsider was the fact that Leander is one of his best generals and he needed him. Now, the war's over, and your father can do anything he wishes to Van Halen. If he is as just as I think he is, he will only send Leander away with an order never to return to Thersale. But if he deems the violation of your innocence the highest crime, Leander will lose his head. If the latter happens, may you forgive yourself for convincing him never to leave you, for I'm telling you that I never will." She dismissed Anthony then with an angry remonstration -- perhaps because she knew that he was right. Anthony was Leander's best friend, and Daphne knew that the two men were like brothers. She knew how Anthony cared for Leander, and how Leander cared for Anthony in return. They shared a bond of friendship like no other, and Daphne understands Anthony's resentment of her, for he thinks that she brought nothing but ill fortune to Leander. Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 11 Daphne did not want to believe that last part. Every time Leander holds her in his arms, he would tell her how she had positively changed his life, how she coloured his world, how she provided him with a reason for living. And she believed him, because that was how he affected her, too. But if the worst happens, then, Anthony would be right, and she would never be able to forgive herself. That was why, although deeply afraid, she had been relieved when her father talked to her first and told her his every plan for Leander's insubordination. Father and daughter argued vehemently that afternoon, with Daphne fiercely defending every decision Leander took. She never knew that she would find the courage to stand up to her father like that, but she did. Nor did she ever think that her father could get as angry as that, but he did -- and most surprising of all, it was because, she realized, he loved her very much indeed. By the end of their meeting, although she never got the Duke to promise that he would not hurt Leander or send him away, Daphne felt a sense of triumph -- for he did not vow to punish Leander either. A sense of dread still followed her around -- something she hid from Leander, not wanting him to worry, too. Her father's action -- lack of it, in fact -- after that gave her hope that perhaps, he would reconsider; perhaps he would cave in. Her success or failure in convincing her father would be determined at the end of Leander's conversation with the Duke. She fervently hoped that Leander would hold her in his arms and tell her that everything went okay, that the Duke promised to let them be. ***** She was first to reach the fence that marked the finish line of their makeshift race, followed by Leonard, and then by Anthony. Jeremy, who finished last, exclaimed, "This is embarrassing! I was outrun by a woman!" Daphne laughed, the joy of the ride still filling her chest. Leonard, who had already dismounted, offered his hand to help her dismount. "Your Snowflake was outrun by Whitespark. In my opinion, that's a stallion outrunning a mare." Jeremy laughed as he, too, dismounted. Patting his horse's neck, he said, "It's okay, Snowflake. We're close to beating them. You did great." Herself laughing, Daphne approached her youngest brother and hugged him, earning a cry of dismay from the boy. Apparently, he was 'already too old for hugs from his big sister.' Leonard and Anthony's laughter did not help. "But -- wow." Jeremy was now admiring the great stallion that was the Duke's favourite. "I still can't believe you took out Whitespark without His Grace's permission." It did not escape Daphne -- as it did then, before she ran from home -- that her brothers referred to their father as 'His Grace' or 'the Duke', never as 'Papa.' She has asked Leonard earlier, when they finished eating breakfast and the Marquis offered to walk her back to her room; his only response was that the Duke was too indifferent to be called 'Papa', and the one time Leonard did, it annoyed the Duke so much that Leonard decided never to use it again. "I can let you ride him on the way back," Daphne offered the boy. "I'm sure both Leonard and Anthony know how to saddle a horse, so they will change our saddles." "Oh." Anthony grinned. "Finally something I can do that Daphne cannot!" Leonard elbowed his brother. "Say nothing more, lest she asks Mr. Lochard first thing tomorrow for instructions on how to saddle a horse." As they all laughed, Jeremy asked, "Will you really do that, Daphne? Let me ride Whitespark? But what if His Grace sees?" "Don't worry about him," she reassured the boy. "I'll take full responsibility for stealing Whitespark." Jeremy rejoiced, and Anthony nodded to the direction of the house. "Look, Sister." Daphne looked, and was turned speechless for a moment. There it was, the Duke of Wildercross's estate, looking ancient and grand and breathtakingly beautiful. It sat there on one huge span of land -- all four stories of it, perhaps the greatest building in all of Thersale. And that was talking about the front structure alone, which housed the whole legion of the Duke's personal guards headed by the eldest son of the present Earl of Mavenborough. Either the upper or lower yards behind the intimidating structure was wide enough to hold half of all the inhabitants of the duchy -- and that was saying much, for the Duchy of Wildercross was one of Thersale's largest. On the northern and southern ends of the yards were yet another pair of buildings reserved for servants. The apartments behind the yards were where the guests of the Duke stayed, and beyond that was the famed Wildercross Garden, the most frequently visited part of the estate, with its dozens of fountains and grottoes, its thousands of flowers and its blanket of grass native to the continent. The Duke opened the Garden to the public in exchange for entrance fees that became one of the estate's sources of income. Only those who lived in the Duchy of Wildercross could enter without paying a thing, and the Garden was only closed when there are special celebrations inside the estate -- the way there was now. Beyond the Garden was yet another building, a two-story one -- the Estate Proper, as it was called by many. There was where the Wildercross family apartments were found. To the north of the Garden was the stables; to the south, the building that held both the mess and the meditation halls, as well as the Duke's study where Leander presently was. It might be called an estate, but the Wildercross House was more like a castle -- one which could not be outshone even by the Crown's. "It's lovely," she said softly, her heart brimming with joy to realize that she was home -- indeed home. "If it is such a lovely place, why did you run away from it in the first place?" Anthony asked. "You were the Duke's favourite; he wanted all the best for you." Daphne sighed, wrenching her eyes away from their home and smiling at her brothers, all of whom were waiting for an answer. "Beauty and comfort are not the only things that matter in life," she replied. "I wanted my own happily-ever-after, one I find for myself, not imposed to me by the Duke. Your sister is a romantic, you see. I want to find a man whom I love and who loves me back. If I have to leave all of these to get that, I gladly will." "Did you find him?" asked Anthony. With another smile, Daphne nodded. "Yes." "Is it General Van Halen?" Jeremy's question surprised her. Knowing Lady Cornelia, Daphne was certain Jeremy was not supposed to learn gossips for at least the first ten years of his life. The look Leonard and Anthony exchanged told Daphne that it was not the older boys who told the youngest. "Why do you ask?" Leonard asked the boy in return. Jeremy shrugged. "I heard Sister's ladies-in-waiting talking this morning. They said that the general is Daphne's love. To me, they look ready to take him from her, though, and Lady Cecilia even said so. So, is it really Van Halen?" Anthony cleared his throat to prevent himself from laughing. Daphne's blood rushed to her face. If her ladies were talking about Leander, they could not have used the word 'love'; they might have referred to him as her lover, which -- thank the gods! -- Jeremy missed. Lady Cornelia would quite be distressed if she learned that her boy's innocence was almost broken. "Yes, it is," she admitted, slightly smiling at the boy. "Very good choice," Jeremy said, nodding his head sagely. "He looks strong and the Duke said that he's one of the best, so he can surely protect you. I think I like him for you. He was polite to me when he saw me in the Garden once, and he looks kind, too." "You know," Anthony interjected, seeing how Daphne's face reddened even more. "Why don't you just help me unsaddle both Whitespark and Snowflake, Jeremy? We'll be returning to the estate soon." When the younger boys were out of earshot and busily unsaddling the horses, Daphne's eyes were drawn back to the house, where she knew Leander was. "Are you afraid for his life?" Leonard asked. With a sigh, she nodded, her eyes not leaving the structure. "Before we left Elgeshore, Leander told me that his affair with me was, basically speaking, a distraction from his duty and a disregard of Papa's instructions to him. It's punishable by death." "It is," said the Marquis, pausing a while before asking, "Do you think His Grace will actually order Van Halen's execution?" Daphne looked at her brother, then, seeing him as a young man mature beyond his years. "I hope not. I won't be able to handle it otherwise." "He won't," Leonard assured her. "As Anthony said, you are the Duke's favourite child." "Leonard..." "No, listen," he said, smiling. "He doesn't want us calling him Papa because you are the only one he wants to call him thus. Mama told me and Anthony that the Duke married her out of duty, and that his heart, hard and cold as it is, is already owned by another woman. If that's the case, then, that woman is your mother, the Duchess of Brayhorn. No wonder he loves you more than he loves us." She shook her head. "Don't say that. You may think him hardened and cold-hearted, but he is not. You said it yourself -- he has a heart, and he knows how to love. If he shows his love to me more than he does to all of you, it's because he doesn't want you to grow soft as men. He wants you to forge a bond among yourselves, as you have done. He may act indifferently, but, I tell you, he cares. He was like that to me once, too." Leonard smiled. "I know he cares for us, in his own way. But believe it or not, he loves you more than us all, and we're fine with that. We love you more than we love him anyway." Daphne arched an eyebrow, but smiled when Leonard laughed. She knew the truth of her brother's words -- even that last statement. The three boys had been closer to her than to their father, and all three had known about her plans for escape three years ago; none of them betrayed her, even Jeremy, who was only six at that time. "So, I tell you," Leonard continued. "The Duke will not kill Van Halen, if only for you." "You think so?" she asked with a small smile, her heart filling less heavy now that Leonard has said such a thing. The Marquis nodded, smiling back. "I know so." ***** The sounds of music and laughter coming from the Garden made Daphne smile. She parted the curtains to look down at the celebration below. Lanterns were hung on tree branches and on poles erected that afternoon. She could make out her ladies-in-waiting amidst the crowd, and most of them were conversing with young heirs and warriors currently residing as guests in the Wildercross estate. Although not inclined to join parties, her father often threw them, ranging from modest gatherings like this one to grand celebrations that become the talk of the whole kingdom for weeks. For Daphne, such affairs showed the warmer side of the Duke of Wildercross -- another proof that her father was not as passionless as people thought. The door opened, briefly allowing the scents of jasmine to reach her senses; her smile did not fade. "Would you like me to accompany you to the Garden? It will be rewarding to join such a celebration when you had been away from home for so long." She let go of the curtain and turned to face the newcomer. "Something tells me that my reward is inside this room, not amidst the crowd." Leander chuckled, walking toward her; Daphne watched him with admiration. Clad in his black armour, he looked exactly like he did when she first saw him. This time, though, she did not turn pale; in fact, she blushed. He swept her in his arms, tenderly kissing her forehead. Daphne closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of citrus and musk, mixed with the leather of his armour. She moaned appreciatively, kissing his neck and breathing in his fragrance. She loved it, as she loved everything about him. "Something tells me that I won't find sleep tonight," Leander observed. Daphne laughed softly, slightly moving away so that she could look him in the eye. "Is there something wrong with that?" "What can possibly be wrong with that?" Leander replied, grinning. He pulled her body even closer, resting his forehead on hers. "If I get to enjoy you every minute of it, I'm willing to forgo sleep." Her laughter bubbled from within, kept there by Leander's mouth when he sought hers. She looped her arms around his neck, kissing back. He tasted of wine -- her father's wine, which left her wondering what the two men talked about. "I need you now, my love," Leander murmured against her skin as he kissed her neck. She smiled, moving away to look into his eyes. "You have all night to claim me." Leander moaned, kissing her again before moving away to take off his armour. Daphne walked to his bed and watched him reveal more of himself to her hungry eyes. Once he had the leather-and-plate armour off, Leander shed off his shirt, leaving nothing but his breeches on. "How did the conversation with Papa go?" she asked when Leander joined her on the bed. "Very well," he answered, wasting no time in pulling her down to the bed. His fingers nimbly undid the lace that kept her gown tightly wrapped around her body. "He gave me the deeds to both Gildenrose Court and Heathergreen Lodge, and the lands around them." Upon hearing his answer, Daphne gasped, propping herself up on an elbow even as Leander continued teasing off her gown. "Gildenrose and Heathergreen! Do you jest?" "I'm serious," Leander answered, finally succeeding in stripping her down to her shift. "What have you done to my father?" she cried, her eyes wide. "Those are the properties he is most loathe to part with!" Leander chuckled, lovingly pinching her chin. "They were supposed to be his wedding gift to your mother had things gone according to plan, I believe." Daphne knew all too well of the truth of his words. Lady Cornelia had drilled that into her brain since she was a child. That's why the Duchess of Wildercross hated the properties so much, especially since those were the only lands of the Duke that were not accessible even to his own children. "How come he gave it to you?" she asked, calm yet bewildered. The general laughed beneath her, stroking her thighs so that the hem of her dress rode up, bunching around her hips. "They're not mine technically. I'm merely the deed-holder. They're to be my wedding gifts to my future wife." As a grin crossed her lips, Daphne took her position on top of Leander, planting her knees on either side of his narrow hips. "For me, then?" His left eyebrow shot up, but his blue eyes danced with mirth as he said, "Well, what do we have here? A very conceited woman! Who told you that you're my future wife?" Daphne moaned, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose, thus brushing the tip of her breasts lightly against his naked chest. Her nipples were already erect beneath the silk of her dress, and the teasing strokes of Leander's palms on her bare thighs were causing her core to melt, causing the essence of her femininity to flow. "I did," she said huskily, lightly licking along his jaw. "What made you think that you'd get out of my father's estate without asking him for my hand in marriage, Leander Van Halen? Hmm? How dare you!" "What made you think that I shall choose you among the hundreds of women I have already bedded?" Although she could not see his face -- oh, she would not look, for she was having so much fun licking her way down his neck! - Daphne knew Leander smiled; the tone of his voice said so. The jest was there, the teasing -- deliberate attempts to provoke her, to wake her wildness, to challenge her female ego. And, aware though she was of his intentions, Daphne also knew that he was succeeding. "Oh, you will know soon enough," came her promising response as she rose on her knees, towering over his lying form, proud and wanton and very much in the mood to take control. "Blessed be the day you decided to keep me as your lover, you will say." Leander's laughter sounded in the room, mingling with the sound of music and celebration coming from below. Daphne grinned, biting on her lower lip as she bent forward, ready now to begin their game. It would be such an entertaining night. ***** She kissed him full on the mouth, savouring the taste of him before moving downward, kissing his bare shoulder as her hands played further down, wandering close to but not quite touching, his erect manhood. The groan that sounded deep in Leander's throat urged her on, as did his gentle hand gripping the back of her head, fondly squeezing from time to time. It would be so easy to give in to her desires, to sate their thirst for each other with one swift gesture, yet Daphne was willing to wait -- indeed, she was intent upon it, knowing how much more fulfilling it would be if she prolonged the wait a little more. Mastering her own emotions, she took her time, kissing every inch of Leander's body from the chest downward, lower and lower until her breasts were already touching his stiff member. Leander moved, half-sitting on the bed to get a better view of her. "You're a sweet little devil, my love," he chuckled when she looked at him from under her lashes, the seductive gesture coming to her as naturally as her own breath. How could she not have known sooner of the power a single glance held over a man? Leander gathered a fistful of her hair as if he meant to crush it. But knowing that such a thing would not happen with his bare fists alone, Daphne understood that he merely needed to feel its softness, for unless he tugged on it fiercely there could be no smelling it anyway. Not that she needed to know every small thing her lover had in mind. She was herself busy thinking about what pleasures she ought to subject him to tonight. Surely, a man who has come out of her father's study alive and well needed a reward of some sort... Daphne gently licked between the rigged muscles of Leander's stomach, taking pleasure in hearing the groan it elicited from the general. She took her time, merely running a finger along his manhood to further stimulate him. Not that she thought he needed anymore of that; he was as hard and as huge as he could be. She glanced up at him to see the frown on his face as he tried to control his urges. Daphne's heart gladdened at the sight -- not because she thought she was torturing him, but because she knew that Leander would not hurry her along; he would let her do as she pleased even if it cost him pain. Herself groaning, Daphne finally decided that it was time she rewarded him for all the things he did and would never do. Gently massaging his balls, she ran her slick tongue around the tip of his manhood, watching as Leander threw his head back with a growl. His grasp on her hair tightened, but instead of hurting her it further aroused Daphne. He was so hard -- so ready for the coupling that would inevitably come. Daphne ran her tongue along the underside of his shaft, taking glory in the moment, when she knew that he was trusting her with his vulnerability. Again and again, she licked him, loving the feel of him against her tongue. Leander was virility personified; how could she not fall in love with him? Licking and sucking, she pleased him with her mouth, now acquainted with the subtle power she had over him. She loved the way he felt in her mouth, hard and soft at the same time. Yes, so vulnerable... "Come here, my sweet," Leander groaned, his eyes the colour of the darkest blue as he stared into hers. "I want to taste you." Daphne made a sound at the back of her throat. Gods, did he really? She squirmed, momentarily pausing the wonderful act she had given her attention to so that she could change her position, making it possible for her to continue her pursuit while giving Leander the chance to taste her, too.