The Highwayman And The Lady (historical erotica)
Lady Ursula suffers at the hands of her brutish husband, Lord Armitage. Kit Fletcher, the notorious highwayman, is a criminal but he's an honest one, and he decides to rescue Ursula. She's so used to denying her own needs that she fights back – can Kit persuade her that she's not only desirable, but worth desiring? Warning! This adults-only short erotica (8000 wds) contains scenes of graphic sex. More
Lady Ursula suffers at the hands of her brutish husband, Lord Armitage. Kit Fletcher, the notorious highwayman, may be a criminal but at least he's an honest one, and he decides to rescue Ursula. She's so used to denying her own needs that she fights back – can Kit persuade her that she's not only desirable, but worth desiring? Warning! This is adults-only short erotica (8000 words) containing scenes of lesbian and heterosexual sex and penetration.
Ursula pushed against the brute, but weakly. She wanted him gone – and she wanted him to hold her. The conflict of emotion in her pounding chest was making her angry. Things ought to be clear cut! Here was a criminal – so she should scream for help and run away.
Yet… he held on to her, and his bulk, his strength, his broad chest, seemed to be creating a safe barrier between her and the world. And the things he'd done for her!
No-one had done things like this for her, not like this. She squeezed her eyes tight but the tears fell like rain and all the fight went out of her in a rush. She fell against him, her struggles dying away, and he wrapped his arms around her.
For a long few minutes, she allowed herself the luxury of wallowing in her misery and cried her heart out. It was good to release the tension of many years, and he didn't judge her. He held her, and he stroked her hair, and he murmured gentle nonsense in her ear as she sobbed fit to shatter her own soul.
No-one could cry for ever. Gradually, her sniffs lessened, and she became more aware of the feel of his arms around her, and his wide hand on the back of her head, his fingers smoothing her hair.
His chest was hard and wide. He smelled of the outdoors, but cleanly so, with the tang of laundry about his white shirt.
Ursula felt herself flush as she realised she was thinking rather too much about the feel of his body against hers, and she pulled away abruptly.
"I do apologise," she mumbled, suddenly discomfited. "I ought to go…"
Kit grinned at her. His dark eyes danced with amusement, and he did not release her. "You're lost for words!" he exclaimed in delight. "Now, what's brought that on?"
Ursula frowned at him, and tried to summon her earlier arrogance, but she was tired of the act. "I'm merely exhausted. I should go and check on the Hall. And my staff. I… I do not blame you, Mr. Fletcher. But I should go now. And nothing more will be said of this."
"Kit, please. Not Mr. Fletcher. And we're not done here… Ursula."
Ursula. The sound of her name in his mouth made her soften. She wanted to hear it again. "But…" she protested, slowly and without conviction.
"But?" Kit put his hands either side of her face, and drew her close to him. She felt his breath on her skin as he said, "But nothing. Ursula. My Lady. I could say that I wanted you because I want to right the wrongs of your husband, or some such. That you deserve some happiness, perhaps. Actually – though there is a little truth in those things – the fact is, I want you."
The hairs on Ursula's arms bristled and stood up as he leaned in closer, whispering into her ear, "I want you… naked. I want to do things to you that only a husband ought to. I want to kiss you everywhere. I am a terrible person, Lady Armitage. You're not safe with me."
Ursula smiled in spite of herself. "Terrible people don't give honest warnings like that," she said in a low voice. She gave in to her emotions and, with half-closed eyes, let her lips seek his.