The Templar's Temptress

CHAPTER:  PASSIONS OF THE KNIGHT

La Roche’s mouth caught her trembling lips in a sensuous kiss, his tongue easing ever so slowly around the timid tip of her own. “I wish to make you cum again but this time,” his growing involvement was allowed, in his manner, his tone and the touch of his hands on her body. “I wish to join you in that exquisite release. Can you feel how much I want that, Bella.”

David held the shapely hips in huge palms, grinding salaciously into the wet heat staining his trousers.

“Remove your...t-tunic.” Isabella had wants and needs as well, her palms clenching and unclenching against the broad plains of his chest. “I...want you to do that.”

The request surprised and delighted. And David La Roche was no fool, hastily complying, hurriedly tugging the garment over his head, tossing it aside in the next instance. “Whatever you need.” his tone was husky and quiet.

“And this.” the girl anxiously tugged on the linen of his undershirt, which immediately followed suit.

“And this.” he murmured his approval, whispering directly into her parted lips, his arms bringing her body back to his.

The calm, cool exterior the woman exuded hid a fiery, passionate side but she was allowing it to emerge which meant, the man had gained her trust to some extent, he knew.

Again, to David’s surprise, Isabella struggled from his grasp, shedding her gown with calculated, deliberate ease.

The man watched the hypnotically beautiful action, his body straining to full arousal at its end.

She stood, fully exposed, the moonlight bathing her womanly shape in shrouded mystery, for the trees shielded much here in this isolated place.

David’s gaze traveled the phenomenal curves and bulges with masculine appreciation.

As for Isabella, she could not see his face at this moment and it felt deliciously sinful, with the slight breeze brushing over her nudity, making her nipples pucker into tight little peaks of desire.

She could feel his stare and it caused her blood to pump through her system rapidly. And something warm and wet to flush her center.

Isabella was bombarded by emotions, unable to process or analyze any of the powerful chaos. Not when this man was near.

The darkness helped squelch her natural inhibitions. In this secret garden the Templar had provided, it seemed acceptable to do things she normally would never do.

The truth was, Bella wanted desperately to experience David La Roche.

In her mind, she was well past her prime, as her brothers often pointed out. She was the last of her immediate family to marry.

Isa was twenty and two. No suitor was on the horizon and her future prospects were dim, she knew.

That this handsome, enigmatical, perplexing man had taken notice of her was a Godsend in the young girl’s mind.

She held no illusions that whatever was passing between them, was anything but transitory. Especially on the Templar’s part.

Throwing caution and reason to the wind, the girl allowed herself this one incredibly stupid moment.

For she did not think, Fate would ever offer over another.

It was her intent to enjoy her time for all it was worth. Damned be the consequences. She fought with her conscience for days now. She was tired and beaten down by this man’s inventive attacks and his virile prowess where women were concerned.

She knew she was just one of many.

The fact did not seem all that important at the time, standing here, staring at the magnificent torso with the dark soft down on his chest, which tapered over the ridges of his abdomen, feathering down into the band of his soft, linen trousers that fit so well over his hips and that fantastic backside.

Isabella blushed, remembering the firm solidness of the latter in the lake.

The colorful markings that covered his forearms caught her attention. A dragon whose body wound about his biceps, slithering down his forearm with red and green scales and black, dead eyes which glared at Isabella accusingly now.

She knew she was committing a sin.

The woman looked away from the sinister image, transferring her intent to the other arm. “What is...that?”

The man glanced, having been amused at her obvious interest in his body but a part of him was proud of the girl for having the courage to stand so primly before him, in her natural state. “Templars are not to defile their bodies in any manner, but these?” he indicated the tattoos. “Were done in my early years. This is a Celtic Cross.” he showed her. “And this? A Valkyrie.”

Isabella stepped closer to examine the image. “She is beautiful.” Her fingers ran the length of the striking female, her touch reverent. His flesh was warm beneath her probing, the hair-covered surface enthralling the girl’s senses.

“No, Isabella.’ The man could not take his eyes from the swell of her breasts, so free and full, round and ripe. The flat, tight stomach, the enticing curve of the sweet, rounded buttocks. “You...are beautiful.”

His palm cupped the luscious orb, the feel of the silken mound causing his cock to swell with awareness of her nearness. His thumb gently teased one hidden nipple, moving aside the raven tresses which hid the enticing prize from his view.

Isabella watched his antics, her flesh responding with raised gooseflesh. “I...I realize this is w-wrong.” She stated quietly, not wishing to disturb his concentration.

The man’s free hand ran the roundness of her hip unto her buttock, then curved lovingly to the sweet ‘tuck’, his thumb easing about the long indentation of bottom, sliding over its entire length. “It does not feel wrong.”

David gave infinite care to his pastime, his gaze resting on her averted profile.

The man leaned close, caressing the lushness of her hair with his lips.

“It is.” Isabella staunchly stated. “But it does not matter.” She decided. “All my life I have obeyed my father’s wishes. Adhered to my mother’s admonishments but now? I do this...” She indicated her meaning. “For myself.”

She turned those crystal eyes his way. “But do not, for one second think, I do not realize my sins. I do.”

David kissed the lovely pout, lifting his lips only enough to murmur... “I do not care why you are here, only that you are.”

The woman could accept his reasoning for it echoed her own mindset. “I have not seen a man.” she stated the obvious in the Templar’s world. “I...w-wish to do so now.”

David grinned at the stalwart determination and the slightly defiant stance.

He spread his hands slightly, offering over a mock bow. “My Lady’s wishes...”

The Templar stepped back enough to allow him room for movement, pulling the heavy boots from his feet, tossing them aside, his gaze holding the wary blue ones ever so easily.

Having removed his white tunic with it’s distinctive red cross and undershirt moments earlier, the man was not shy about hooking his thumbs into the band of his trousers, making short work of the task at hand.

The article fell from his finger tips seconds later, forgotten on the ground.

His look challenged. “And...these?” His hand swept the vicinity of his Bries.

David held his amusement for it was clear, his actions were unsettling the girl although she tried hard not to show it.

He gave points for the set of her mind. She held her ground.

“...Yes.” she practically snapped the reply.

La Roche stripped off the last layer of civilized conventionalities with the removal of the long-legged under garment.

Isabella tried very hard not to look at the dark patch of fuzz between his legs, but she physically had to stop a gasp upon seeing a fully bared male standing so nonchalantly blase before her for her equilibrium was totally thrown off-kilter, in truth.

She stared, wide-eyed at the magnificent specimen, gulping her trepidation.

“All you hoped?” David knew his body was honed and battle ready. His life depended on his strength and agility in battle. He kept physically in shape.

He was well pleased, in this instance, the girl seemed to appreciate his toil and labor.

“Tis nothing, my angel when compared to...” his gaze traveled the delicious slope of her mounds, the feminine curve of her shapely hips, the delicate line of her legs. The apex of her being beckoned like a Siren’s call.

The lush strands of raven tresses hung over her shoulders, concealing the delectable peaks of her nipples.

“...When compared to your beauty.” David told the absolute truth.

Isabella was troubled somewhat, her expression saying as much. “It...does not look like the pictures in the book.” She motioned awkwardly.

Then she blushed fully, realizing how gauche and inappropriate a thing she had just uttered. “In that...” she halted her speech, physically placing her fingers over her lips that she might shut the hell up.

David glanced to her meaning. “It is what it is, Lady.” he held his grin.

“In that, of course.” Isabella hastened to explain her blunder. “I refer to the depiction of Adam and Even...in the Garden of Eden.” She blushed again, clearing her throat gently.

“Ah.” the man held his smile. “Well, yes. I fear the artist took considerable license with the male member in that painting. But, I assure you. I represent the male figure far better than his efforts would have it.”

Isabella nodded politely, stepping closer, lowering her gaze. “It is very much better, Sir. Than what I saw.”

“Ever so good to know.” the tip of La Roche’s tongue darted to the center of his lips to keep the grin from erupting on his face. “I should hate to think you disapproved of my assets in any way, shape or form.” He motioned accordingly. “I assure you, I whole-heartedly approve of yours.”

“...Are you having sport with me?” Isabella stiffened, retreating a bit.

“No, Isabella.” His eyes softened. “I find you delightfully...refreshing. Your candor and honesty is most welcomed by this jaded, weary warrior. Do not think otherwise, please.”

The woman...relaxed visibly. She once again sought out his...apparatus. “It felt different before.” she recalled the hardness pressing so intimately to her backside when he brushed her hair.

The long pink object was thick and soft now, which confused the girl.

“It will not stay in this dormant state, I fear.” David glanced to his cock, then flicked her shaven mound with avid interest. “I am striving for decorum at the moment, you see.”

“Why?” the blue eyes darted to his face instantly.

“...Because I am trying to impress you, I suppose.” he chuckled lowly. “I have never been asked that question before. But, I believe that is the reason it is not responding as I wish at this exact moment.”

“Why would you wish to impress me?” Isabella was becoming suspicious. “What am I but a mere...amusement. Which is fine, mind you. I understand the parameters of ...this encounter. I will not ask more of you than you wish to give.”

“Enough talk.” The man felt his entire body react to that sweet statement. “My patience is at an end, Isabella. I cannot stand here pretending I am not affected by your...present state. I am a man and I need...more.”