There's room enough for two

Randy knew it was playing with fire to lie down this close to Lady Marlton. In theory, the bed was more than spacious enough for two, but he knew better than anyone how little control he had around the lovely young woman. However, Randy was worn out from his trip to and from Marlton manor; it was not so much the distance involved (it was less than three miles each way) as the effort it took to maintain his vigilance in the dark forests when he knew there would be searchers looking for Lady Marlton. And, it was after all, his bed.

"There's room for both of us Lady Marlton." Randy told her firmly, but not unkindly, as he settled back on the bed. He usually slept naked, but in deference to his bedmate he kept his pantaloons on. He had grown accustomed to living with females when he lived with his mother and sister, of course in those days he did not sleep with a beautiful woman next to him in the same bed. Randy had to lay on his side turned away from Miss Marlton, not because he wanted to but because his engorged erection tented the loose fabric of his pants like the mainmast of a schooner. If he lay on his back or faced her, she could not help but see his reaction to her beauty. He dared not give her any kind of advantage, not if he had to keep her here for another day or two before his business with her father was concluded.

Charlotte stared at Mr. Fuller in stunned disbelief when she saw him recline on the bed by her side. She had to tear her eyes away when she found her gaze lingering on the opening at the back of his neck and the curly blonde hairs that peaked from the collar of his white shirt. Even when she shifted her focus firmly from his neck to the flickering light of the fire she kept wondering what it would feel like to run her fingers through that tangle of fine hair, or up his thighs and under over the hard ridges of his abdomen -

What am I thinking?! Charlotte berated herself silently for her weakness. She despised Black Brand and his arrogance; she was outraged by the indignity of his kisses and relieved to be free of his caressing hands, holding her, cupping her soft - Stop it!

"Mr. Fuller, this is outrageous!" Charlotte tried to protest, but the bold outlaw didn't even bother to respond, he stretched out on the far side of the bed with his back turned on her insolently. At least he had not climbed between the sheets, Charlotte couldn't even imagine how she would feel if he discovered the damp patch on the bedding and divined its cause. For the next ten minutes Charlotte sat stiffly on the foot of the bed unable to relax with the man who had ****, bound, assaulted and groped her lying next to her on this great bed. Did Mr. Fuller think she'd relent and settle into his arms like a harlot eager for the touch of a man's hands and lips? She risked another glance at Mr. Fuller's reclining form just visible in the glow of the dying fire, his shoulders looked broader than she remembered in the linen shirt and the strength in his bare legs was evident even in the dim light.

After a while, when Mr. Fuller's breathing settled into a deep steady rhythm Charlotte knew her virtue was safe - for this night at least. She shouldn't be surprised that a man like him had no interest in taking advantage of his chained captive, after all, this man had a far more intimate knowledge of her feminine form than any other man(she shifted uncomfortable as she remembered how his hands and lips had explored where no man had ever dared) and he knew better than anyone how deficient her body was. Her lack of experience with men must be glaringly obvious, and while a gentleman might find this naivety attractive in a blushing sixteen year-old debutante, a worldly man like Mr. Fuller would demand far more from his women than that.

Finally, moving as carefully as possible Charlotte slipped under the covers placing the layer of blankets between her and Black Brand's sleeping body. It was nearly impossible to forget that she was lying in the same bed as Mr. Fuller. She did not know what was more troubling to her peace of mind, the heavy weight of the iron ring securing her to the bed or the fact that her bedmate was wearing nothing more than a single loose tunic that barely covered his muscular thighs or the thick manhood that she had felt pressing against her belly earlier in the night.