The Flame and the Flower by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

her hands, feeling the awful humiliation of being naked and a coward.
     
    "Don't," he said and slid in beside her and drew her quaking limbs to his.
     
    "Please," she whimpered. "Aren't you satisfied that you've taken the one thing that was only mine to give. Must you keep torturing me again and again?"
     
    "You might as well accept your lot as a paramour, my sweet, and become aware of the finer arts of the profession. The first thing I'm going to show you is that it doesn't necessarily have to be painful. You fought me twice now and the last time caused your own misery. This time you will relax and let me do as I want without a struggle and though you may not enjoy it yet, you'll see what I say is true."
     
    "No! No!" she cried, trying to struggle free, but he clamped his hand tightly on her waist.
     
    "Be still."
     
    Again he commanded, again she obeyed. She hated him but her fear was greater by far. She trembled violently with it.
     
    "Is this the way you treat your wife?" she asked miserably.
     
    He smiled and bent over her lips. "I'm not married, sweet."
     
    She had no more to say when his kiss ended but lay tense and waiting. He made no move to mount her. Instead he played gently with her, caressing, softly titillating, cupping her breasts and pressing kisses over her body.
     
    "Relax," he murmured against her throat. "Just lie still and don't fight me. Later you can learn what pleases a man, but for now just lie still."
     
    Her mind tumbled over itself in its frenzy and no words sought her tongue. As she lay and submitted to his pawing, her life passed before her as if she were dying, and she wondered what great evil she had done that the past years should have abused her so cruelly. Yet even Aunt Fanny's endless heckling would be better than having to lie here under this man's hands while he pleasured himself with her. Trapped! Caught! Like a bird in a snare and now, plump and roasted, she must wait on the platter while he whetted his knife for the carving. And when the feast was done, what then? The same table? The same dinner? Again and again? Surely no simpleminded fowl ever suffered its fate but once.
     
    Her thighs were parted and she could not suppress a gasp as he drove home.
     
    "Easy, sweet," he breathed.
     
    She closed her eyes tightly and stilled her careening fears. There was nothing to do now but let him have his way. When he lay finished above her, he whispered against her hair.
     
    "Any more bruises, m'lady?"
     
    She kept her eyes shut and turned her head aside. She loathed the very thought of him. He moved against her, urging her answer.
     
    "Did I hurt you this time?"
     
    "No," she choked out.
     
    He laughed softly and freeing her from his embrace, sat on the berth beside her and drew the sheet over her.
     
    "You don't appear to be a cold wench, ma petite ," he said, running his hand over the curve of her thigh and waist, "only for the moment a reluctant one. Soon you'll learn to enjoy it. For now just learn to accept it."
     
    "Never!" she half sobbed. "I hate you! I loathe you! I despise you! Not in a million years!"
     
    "You'll change your mind," he laughed. He stood up. "Someday you'll be begging for it."
     
    She turned in a huff, presenting her back to him and jerked the sheet over her shoulder. He chuckled again and reaching down, caressed her buttock.
     
    "Just wait, Heather, and we'll see which one of us is right."
     
    Anger shook her. He was so confident of himself, of her, of the future. He had it all neatly planned. And what did she have to say in the matter? All she could do was beg for mercy and that would fall on deaf ears. But given the opportunity she would escape.
     
    She smiled to herself, thinking of that, and her spirits rose if only slightly. Her chance would come sooner or later and she would not hesitate to take it. The mere thought of escape soothed her frayed nerves and she relaxed into the pillows, listening to Brandon move about the cabin behind her.