A Ranger's Temptation
Chapter Five
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Aragorn
felt Meredith's gaze upon him, even after he pressed his eyelids tightly
together. He tried to will away his body's needs, and for his trouble he
was rewarded--or punished--with a renewed and unignorable desire.
Silently, he cursed the inadequacy of the towel he held over his shame, he
cursed his body's involuntary reaction to the woman standing before him.
And, most deeply of all, he cursed himself, for using the excuse of
sought-after information to lead him into a situation against which his
resolve could not stand. The girl approached him tentatively. "Strider? Do you...desire me to...?" She reached a hand for the towel, even as her green eyes searched his for something--permission, perhaps? He didn't know, nor, at this point, did he particularly wish to. He realized then that his brazen nakedness must seem only as another command to her--a command to please him, to satisfy his needs before her own. And this was not what he wanted her to feel, even if she was eager to obey. Certainly, it was not what he wanted to feel *himself*. And yet, he could neither compel himself away from her, away from here, where temptation lay. And so, he remained perfectly still, as a deer who smells the hunter but knows not from what direction the arrow will come. She walked to him, encircling him in her soft arms, pressing the length of her body against his. He could feel the damp gauze of her gown against his bare skin; the sensation quickened the roaring blood within him. How his body craved this! Arwen or no, proper or not, his flesh longed for another union, here and now. The ache in his groin, however, was nearly equal to that in his heart. Arwen Evenstar had sworn her love to him--enough, she'd told him long ago, to give up her immortal life to walk the rest of her days by his side. That was no light-hearted promise, and though she had not consummated it of yet, Aragorn had no doubts that Arwen would be anything but a maiden of her word. Meredith's hands snaked along the span of his back, a pleasurable grazing, stoking the fires already kindled within him. He shuddered and forced his gaze to her face, if only to remind himself that she was not his love--not Arwen. Her eyes, wide and green, shone with an appreciation and desire of her own. She blinked, her long, dark lashes fluttering. "By Elbereth, you are quite beautiful," he whispered, forgetting himself. And then, when he saw the color come into her cheeks, it occurred to the Ranger that that statement had been altogether the wrong thing to say. She leaned up into him, placing her lips firmly on his, and snatching away the towel he'd already nearly dropped at the same time. She had him in what was--from her perspective, at least--a passionate kiss, and it surprised Aragorn enough that he was unable to react for just the few seconds she needed to reach between his thighs and take him him her hand. His flesh screamed at him, howled at him, demanded in every pulse of blood at his temples that he let her continue, that he relinquish control and allow her to finish what she had so eagerly begun. But in his mind, behind his eyelids, closed against the shameful onslaught, he had an image of the deep blue eyes of Arwen, pledging her love--and her life--to him. Aragorn broke the kiss with some effort, grabbing Meredith by the shoulders and lifting her away from his person with some force. When she was at arm's length, and he could no longer feel the warming friction of her body against his, he knitted his brow and shook his head slightly, hoping she understood what he could not find the words to express. "I--" she began, but he silenced her by brushing his thumb across her lips. "Please," he began hoarsely, finding his voice again, "Please do not tempt me. I cannot afford it, Meredith." Misunderstanding, she replied, "I...did not wish to charge you further, Strider. It's only...you were so kind, and I thought--" "And I did not!" He could hear the frustration clearly in his own voice, and half-worried about frightening Meredith again before he resolved that, frightened or not, these were words she had to know and understand. "I did not think, Meredith, when I called you to me. I teased myself with the promise that it was only to discover your interest in my affairs, that it was nothing more that the satisfying of my curiousity, but I let it go too far!" He searched her face, hoping beyond hope that she would understand and acknowledge his desperation. "I cannot let this continue!" Her lower lip quivered, and her liquid eyes brimmed with tears. "But...but what did I do wrong?" "You did nothing wrong!" Even as he shouted it, Aragorn knew it sounded like an admonition. "Then...why?" she sobbed. "Why do you not wish me--?" Aragorn squeezed his eyes shut--how they burned suddenly, as if seared by smoke. "I am betrothed!" he blurted finally, bitterly. GO TO Chapter Six BACK to Chapter Index BACK to GypsieRose Index BACK to Fanfic Index BACK to Main Page |