Runaway
Armitage Summer Splash #10 ~ with thanks to @fizzyxcustard and @lathalea for this challenge!
Trope: Kidnapped
Quote: “You always told me that you’d never hurt me”
RA Character: Raymond de Merville
Relationship: Raymond x Fem!Reader
Warnings: unprotected sex, angst, misogyny
Rating: M
Word Count: 3,682
A/N: I used Google translate for the French phrases, so I apologize if they are incorrect.
***
You hadn’t moved in over an hour except to blink every now and again. Rather, you sat, knees drawn to your chest, back up against the rough bark of a fallen tree, and stared moodily at the fire crackling loudly, a stick popping as it shifted in the flames before being consumed. You ignored everyone and everything around you—the dull ache in your back, the fatigue burning in your eyes. You just watched the flames as they danced, slowly at times, like a woman trying to seduce her partner and other times, far faster, almost frenzied in their movement. They soothed you, those flames, they helped your mind wander for a bit, carried you away from your reality, if only for a little while. Because in your reality, you were the stick being consumed by the flames of your life, powerless to stop it, no matter how badly it burned.
“You should eat.” Raymond’s deep voice came from behind your left shoulder, oddly gentle. You scowled at the fire. He could sound as gentle as he wished, it changed nothing.
He came around from behind you, his sword slapping softly against his left thigh. The others were asleep already, worn out from a long day’s journey across the rocky terrain. Sleep was the furthest thing on your mind, for each step across the landscape meant you were another step closer to being returned to your father.
And being forced into a marriage you did not want.
Yes, you were definitely the stick.
Another branch popped. And yet, you still did not move.
He settled on the log bracing your lower back. “So you still refuse to speak to me?”
You hadn’t said a word, not uttered a single peep, in almost two days. You only looked at him when you absolutely had to and even then, you only hoped he knew how you looked through him. You tried his patience hour after hour, just as you had the entire time you’d known him.
For all anyone could guess, you and Raymond had only just met when he’d snatched you from your bed at the run-down inn where you’d sought shelter from a drenching downpour two nights prior. They’d be hard-pressed to believe that you’d known each other practically your entire lives. You were close as children, even more so as you grew older, and at one point, you were almost positive he’d ask for your hand. You’d loved him from the time you were old enough to know what love was, and although he’d never spoken the words aloud, his actions said what he could not where you were concerned. He looked out for you, would lay low anyone who thought to mistreat you. He’d given you your first kiss when you were both by thirteen summers old. It was only a matter of time before he’d take you to wife.
But then, the winter of your eighteenth year, he’d left. You didn't know where he’d gone, or why he’d gone. All you knew was that he’d gone. And with him went the frivolous dreams you’d once had of winning his heart. Impossible. He had no heart.
“Very well. I suppose I will leave you to your thoughts.” He slapped his hands against his thighs, then slowly rose.
“Why? Why would you do this?” Your throat felt scratchy, your voice almost as scratchy from lack of use. But, as angry as you were at him for taking you from the inn, your curiosity, as always, got the better of you.
He paused as you looked up at him, meeting your gaze directly. He never shied away from any confrontation, no matter how big or how small and this was no different.
He didn't say anything at first, but just studied you. In the soft glow of the dancing orange and yellow flames, he looked utterly exhausted. Dark smudges shadowed beneath eyes you knew could be blue or gray, depending upon his mood. In his youth, he’d been strikingly handsome, almost impossibly so, and as he settled into manhood, he’d only grown handsomer still. Time didn’t diminish his powerful his good looks, just as the scar on his face could not diminish them. You wondered where he’d received it, who had given it to him and why? It began—or perhaps ended—at his right temple, curved along the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, and curled up to just beneath that eye. It made you wonder what other scars he bore, as you had no doubt there were others.
It was too dark to tell whether his eyes were blue or gray, as they hovered between the two, depending on his mood, but his gaze was direct, meeting yours. “Ah, you’ve not forgotten how to speak.”
“That is no answer.”
“I owe you no answer.”
“Of course not. It is only my life you’ve ruined.”
A low chuckle rolled toward you, but there was no mirth in his laugh, no emotion whatsoever. He’d grown even colder as he matured and you wondered if his heart had instead become a block of ice by now.
“Your life. Tell me, how have I ruined your life?”
“By stealing me from my bed, throwing me first over your shoulder and later across your horse to drag me back home. That’s how.” You jerked back toward the fire. “Why? Why could you not simply leave me be? You had no cause to kidnap me, you know. I was fine exactly where I was.”
“Kidnap you? I did nothing of the sort. I was tasked with retrieving and returning a wayward fool of a girl who thought to try to avoid fulfilling a bargain by running away.”
“A bargain I never made.” You got to your feet, your body humming with the need to move. No one was supposed to find you. You were supposed to simply vanish into the mist and never be heard from again, to be able to start a new life in a new place.
But no. Raymond tracked you down in less than a week.
You scowled at him. “Have you any idea what you’re doing? Or do you only care about the gold you’ve been paid?”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“Do you? You are delivering me into the hands of a man old enough to be my father, who thinks nothing of brutalizing anyone or thing he believes deserves it. That will become my life, the object of his brutality. Think you I deserve that?”
“A contract is a contract and it is not up to me to decide whether or not it is to be enforced.”
You stared at him, shaking your head. “I did not agree to the terms.”
“That is of no matter. Why would anyone care if you agreed to them? That’s foolishness talking there. Your opinion on the agreement is moot. There is a reason for that, you know.”
Your gut kinked at the quiet finality in his voice. “So, that’s it, then. You think my father and Comte de Verlaine should feel free to take whatever liberties they wish where I am concerned? That I should just be quiet and accept my lot in life and marry that wrinkled old prune of a man? To let him do as he will with me when the mood strikes, however that mood shall strike.”
His hands came to rest against his sword’s pommel, one atop the other, and he merely shrugged. “It matters not to me where you go once I’ve left you on your father’s doorstep. You should not have run, but—”
“And you should not have stolen my freedom from me.”
His eyes widened for a moment, and the firelight glinted off his dark hair as he shook his head. “You are a fool, to choose living in squalor over living in comfort.”
“I would rather wallow in a gutter than lay with Verlaine.” You spun about and marched away from him, toward the wide river to the east, picking your way around reeds and rocks and anything else in your path.
You never heard his boots on the ground, but then he seized you by the arm and spun you about to face him. “What would you have me do, then?”
“You swore you would always look out for me,” you told him, narrowing your eyes even as your heart ached worse than it ever had before. “That you would never let anyone hurt me. Do you remember that? To you remember that promise you made to me? You always told me that you’d never hurt me! And then you left. You left and now here we are, with you taking me to another!”
“You wanted what I could never give you,” he told you, shaking his head before turning toward the black ribbon of rushing water weaving through the countryside behind you.
“You could give it, you chose not to.” You also turned to the water, wrapping your arms about yourself as the night’s chill bit into you. “Do you know what you will deliver me to? A lifetime of misery, is what. Misery and more misery. He will expect children and the thought of giving him them nauseates me, Raymond. It terrifies me. He is… repulsive.”
“As am I.”
“No,” you shook your head, glancing over at him, “you are only in your own mind. I’ve never seen you that way and you know it.”
“There is nothing I can do. I am bound to see this through to the end, my personal feelings be damned.”
“There is something you can do. You can and you know it. And again, you simply choose not to.”
“I do not have the luxury and you need to stop thinking of me the way you wish me to be, for I am not the man you think I am.”
You sighed softly, letting your eyes close as tears stung them. “So I am realizing. And I must confess, I find it greatly disheartening.”
“What would you have me do?” His voice grew harsh, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, spinning you to face him. “Tell me, what would you have me do?”
You stared up at him for a moment, then shoved up onto your toes and caught his lips with yours. His entire body went stiff at first, but then… then he yielded and your heart rose. First, his lips moved slowly against yours. Then they parted. His tongue slid into your mouth as his arms eased about your waist. His hands flattened against your back, swept up along it. Heat rose from the linen shirt he wore, his armor shed and left by the fire earlier. Through the fabric, you felt the solid rises of muscle across his chest as you let your hands glide across him, up to his shoulders, around to the back of his neck. Your fingers stretched up into his hair, damp from the night’s fog.
He softened his kiss, his tongue no longer plunging in to snake about yours, but rather it caressed yours, more gentle than you’d ever thought him capable. His arms tightened about you, and as your breasts pressed harder into his chest, he actually moaned softly into your mouth.
Your eyes grew so heavy-lidded, you couldn’t keep them open if you tried. Not that you tried at all. No, you let them close, let the delicious headiness of arousal wrap itself about you. You’d dreamed of this moment for so long, when Raymond would finally admit his feelings for you. He’d come so close before he’d left. Now, he’d admit the truth. And you could run away together and begin a new life somewhere and just… be happy.
His arms fell away from you, then his sword hit the earth with a soft thunk. A moment later, he caught you by the hips, then slid both hands up along the curve of your waist, skimming along the front of your dirt-spattered, wrinkled bodice. He cupped both of your breasts at the same time to make you shiver against him. The heat from his palms sank into you in a most delicious manner and without thinking, you let your back arch, pressed your breasts deeper into his hands.
Raymond broke the kiss roughly, gathering a handful of your hair in a fist to tug and as your neck bowed, he devoured it like a ravenous wolf. There was no hesitation in his movement, in his actions. He knew exactly what he was doing and for a moment, bright green jealousy slashed through you at the thought of the women he’d probably been with and upon whom he’d perfected his skills.
You chose to ignore that. Each kiss came harsh against your sensitive skin, your scalp tingling from his tugging on your hair. Still, you smiled into the darkness and let him pull you down into the damp earth.
He pinned you beneath him, his body hard and unyielding as he continued his onslaught against your neck, the scruff of his beard scraping sensually against your skin. That anyone could happen upon you only heightened your senses, made each caress, each kiss, that much more enticing. You didn't care if anyone caught you. All you cared about was losing yourself in Raymond, in making him lose himself in you if you could. He bit teasingly into the slope of your shoulder, then soothed it with a sweep of his tongue against your skin. You returned the favor, smiling when he shivered against you and breathed, “Do that again…”
You did. His skin was salty and musky, hints of leather and iron woven in, and as your teeth clamped against him, he gave a hard thrust that sent fire running riot through you. You’d dreamed of this moment for so long, when you would claim him as yours for good, and you were not the least bit shy when you gripped two handfuls of sweat-stained linen to tug up.
It slid easily along his back and over his head and you let your eyes feast on what you’d bared. You’d never seen him undressed before, but had only imagined for yourself what his body looked like. He defied even your dreamiest of expectations.
Swells of muscle wrapped along his arms, across his shoulders. Dark hair spread wide across his chest, covered him from shoulder to shoulder and down over his belly to the waist of his trousers. Oh, he was a fine specimen of a man, your knight, and you were not about to let him go. You slid your hands through that hair, surprisingly soft, and smiled when your fingernails against his skin elicited a husky moan from his lips. You brushed your fingertips over his nipples, let your nails scrape them, and each teasing touch had him pressing his hips hard into yours, which sent white-hot pleasure streaking through you.
It wasn't enough, though. You had to touch him, had to feel his skin bare against yours, to feel him bare against you. You’d burned for him since you were old enough to understand what lust was, and now you were so close to having him, you could practically taste him.
His hand was rough against your calf as he reached beneath your skirts to sweep up along your leg. Your thigh. Your skirts bunched about your waist, the cool night air dancing along your bared skin. You shivered at his touch, at the gentle way he caressed your thigh, the way he swept his hand up to cup your backside. His fingers traced back down over the curve of your backside, up and over your thigh to disappear into the darkness between your legs and then—
“Oh!” You couldn’t hold back your gasp as he slid his fingers thorough your curls, then thrust a single finger inside you to tease you where you ached the most for him, where you positively burned for him. At first, you tensed against him, but then he did something with that finger, stroked something very sensitive and highly pleasurable and your gasp melted into a purr.
He bent to seize your lips once more, his tongue thrusting into your mouth in time with the finger he thrust inside you. He swirled both. Drew both back only to come at you again. The pleasure twisted through you, billowing like smoke, bubbling like boiling water, filling you with a yearning you’d never experienced before. Everything inside you was so tight, you were almost afraid you’d shatter like glass before much longer.
Raymond wasn’t at all gentle as his thumb brushed the pearl nestled within your folds, nor did you wish him to be for when he teased that bead, a bliss so raw and sweet tore through you, all you could do was cling to him, your fingernails biting into the sweat-dampened skin of his shoulders, while you shuddered beneath him.
The harder you dug your fingernails into his skin, the harder he teased, and the hotter the fire burned. Your mind went blank, the inferno inside you raging out of control, your body ravenous for his and demanding his to soothe that need swelling within you. You rocked your hips to meet him, to savor the pleasure pulsing through you now. Oh, you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted him before and so you caught the bindings of his trousers to tug open.
He shuddered against you when you found him, when you wrapped your hand about that sleek, hot part of him to stroke. You were’t shy, nor did you hesitate, but instead you moved along that thick length and smiled as he moaned into your mouth, as he moved his finger faster inside you and his thumb harsher against you. You explored that part of him as best you could, considering how you burned for him.
With a low growl, he slid his finger free, fumbled slightly in his haste to tug your hand from him, and a moment later—
The pain came swift and sharp and mercifully short-lived and then he was inside you, pushing his way deeper into you, moaning low as your body slowly accommodated him, slowly allowed him full entry. You squeezed him, smiling as you pressed your knees against his sides. You had no idea he would feel so thick, so full inside you, that he would only seemingly barely fit you. You trembled around him, murmuring, “Oh, my love… yes…” as he seated himself and went still against you.
Your name floated to his lips in the softest of whispers, and his kiss came lingering and sweet as he gave you a moment to acclimate to having him inside you. Then he thrust, and your knees clamped tight against his sides as you moved with him. This wasn’t quite how you envisioned giving him your virginity, but you didn't mind as his lips claimed yours once more. It took you a moment or two to adapt to his rhythm, to meet his thrusts, but when you did, he shivered against you and a low moan rose in his throat.
He moved more easily inside you now, your arousal combining with his to make each thrust silken, more sensual, more absolutely wonderful than you could have ever possibly imagined. Oh, you could so easily become spoiled by his lovemaking, by the absolute bliss he introduced you to with each one of his powerful thrusts. You looked forward to many, many more nights spent this way, and wondered what else you could do that would feel just as sinfully sweet. What he could do to you. What you could do to him. Oh, you would love discovering all of it with him.
Your insides knotted in a manner more delightful, more wickedly delicious, than you could have ever imagined. He surged harder, thrust deeper and as you teetered on the edge of nirvana, he drove hard to shove you into he abyss.
“Raymond!” Your voice rang out into the darkness and you didn't care who heard you as he thrust hard and with a guttural oath, his body spilled into yours. He shuddered hard against you, his hip grinding up into yours, his release hot and powerful and unlike anything you ever felt before. You melted around him, your thighs firm against his ribs, your body greedily squeezing every last bit of pleasure from both you and him.
He sank against you, his breathing rough and ragged and smoky about the edges. A soft kiss swept along your neck and he whispered, “Je t’aime. Je t’ai toujours aimeé, ma chérie…”
Tears stung your eyes at his confession. Brushing your lips against his ear, you murmured back, “Je t’aims aussi…”
He trembled against you, fighting to slow his breath, and then, with a low grunt, he withdrew and you shivered at the loss of his fullness inside you. You expected him to stretch out beside you, to gather you in his arms and spend the rest of the evening planning your future together, lying entwined beneath the inky black sky spattered with twinkling stars until you drifted off to sleep in his arms, secure in his love.
But, to your surprise, he got to his feet, tugging his trousers back into place as he did, then crouched to swipe up his shirt once more. As he drew the linen over his head, he said, “You should try to sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us come the morning.”
You just stared up at him. “But… but, I thought that you and I—”
“Nothing has changed. I will still see you returned to your father.”
Your eyes stung as he turned and walked back toward the fire, leaving you to sit there, hands folded in your lap, your skirts winkled and creased from being bunched about your waist while he took his pleasure. And as you tried to make sense of what had just happened, the skies opened up.
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