Lorna Doone: Two Sides Of A Coin

The moment the main doors closed behind them, Carver swept Lorna off her feet and into his arms. Her surprised laugh was smothered by his lips as he kissed her forcefully. Lorna allowed her hands to slide into his short black hair, twining with the braided tail brushing the collar of his black doublet.

A moment later, breathless, Lorna broke from his lips, resting her head on his chest. With a pleased smirk, every muscle in his body tensed, Carver carried her up the stairs. Lorna raised her head when he carried her past her room, and with a rush of heat, realised he was carrying her towards his chambers.

"Shouldn't you put me down in my room? I need to collect some things," Lorna managed to choke out breathlessly, her eyes on her husband's passion-set face. He shook his head brusquely.

"Becky moved your things to my…to our rooms. You belong with me now," he said, his voice hoarse and gravelly. At his words, Lorna felt a subtle tension take hold of her limbs.

Smirking slightly, Carver carried her over the threshold into their bedchamber.

The room had changed little since Ensor had died and left it for the last time, since Lorna had run away. The same dark furniture and high windows, through which the last few rays of sunlight streamed before they sank beneath the horizon. Candles adorned several of the tables and sideboards dotted around the cavernous rooms, lending a golden tone to the dirty white walls and weathered wood.

To one side of the large four poster bed was a little area cordoned off by a wooden partition, and Lorna glimpsed Becky's blonde head waiting for her behind it.

Carver set her down gently, before clasping her close to kiss her hungrily. Stunned for a moment, Lorna froze before she leaned into the caress, sliding her hands up over his shoulder to pull herself closer.

After a second, Carver raised his head, breathing raggedly from her sweet passion.

"I'll be back in a little while," he reassured her, as he let her go and walked out the room. Blinking owlishly, Lorna watched him go with her jaw dropping, before his words sank in.

"Mistress?" Becky slid out from behind the partition. "Shall I help you with your laces?"

Nervousness beginning to set in, Lorna inhaled shakily and nodded. She allowed her maid to divest her of her stomacher and skirts, untwining the flowers from her hair and undoing the braids. Lastly she unclasped her necklace, laying it on a table one side of the bed. Lastly, Lorna went behind the partition to find a basin of warm water waiting for her. Dismissing Becky, she drew her shift over her head and slipped into the bath, perfumed with a stick of lavender.

For a while Lorna luxuriated in the warm water, a rare luxury in the Doone village, closing her eyes as she relived the events of the day.

She pitied the frightened little girl she'd been only days before. Her own naïveté had blinded her to all she now had. She was blessed with strength and a will only matched by one person, her only equal. Maybe she'd been sent by heaven to tame him, to control his darkness and his destructive power.

She was, of course, thinking of Carver.

Her husband occupied her thoughts, as she wondered how silly she had been. How could she have imagined marrying Carver would cause her grief and pain? Since her earliest memories of him, as a teenage boy, he had protected her and loved her. She was capable of bending his will; she had witnessed that with her own eyes the day before, in the incident with John.

She had known Carver from her earliest days. She knew all the darkest recesses of his mind, his soul and how close he was to falling over the edge of a precipice from which there was no return. She was the only thing standing between him and the abyss; by marrying him she'd taken that position in front of him on the precipice.

Shaking away her thoughts, Lorna stood from her now lukewarm bath and dried herself. She dabbed lavender water on the skin of her neck and wrists, before drawing a soft, crimson coloured robe over her bare skin. Rearranging her hair over her shoulders, she came out from behind the screen and stepped into the husky warmth of the bedchamber.

Outside, storm clouds amassed overhead and the tempest broke, drenching the Doone valley in rain, thunder and lightning. The celebrations abruptly ended, as men, women and children ran to their homes.

The heavens played their own song into the pitch night, thunder and lightning breaking across the horizon. Lorna became entranced by the flashes and crashes of sound and light, as she stood at the window and watched the wild tempest unfold.

Carver found her there a few minutes later, so absorbed by her contemplation of the storm that she did not hear him enter. Smiling, he silently stripped off his tunic and shirt, slinging them over a chair. If Lorna heard the rustle of fabric, she gave no indication of it, but continued to stare out the window at the storm. His torso now bare in the warm air, Carver stalked over to stand behind Lorna.

Lorna jumped when she felt strong arms slide around her waist. Belatedly she registered Carver's presence behind her, as his warm breath tickled her ear.

"I love watching the storm. It's so wild and free," she murmured breathlessly, sliding her hands over the back of his where they clutched her waist. Carver leant his cheek on her soft hair, inhaling the scent of lavender and silk. She shivered, sinking back into his arms.

"I remember when you were eight years old. It was summer and Ensor had sent you to bed early. That night, there was a storm, and when I came to check on you, your bed was empty. I must have rushed around for hours looking for you before I found you fast asleep in the barn, in the loft…" Carver remembered fondly, a reminiscent smile softening his hard face. Lorna laughed once, her voice bell clear.

"I'd slipped out the window of my room," she continued, "I went to the barn because I could see the lightning flashes and the sky better from the loft,"

"You always were a wild little girl," he sighed, his bare chest coming into contact with her back. Lorna shivered and met her husband's eyes over her shoulder.

"I'm not a little girl any more," she whispered, before she boldly brushed his lips with hers. One of her hands slipped from its position on his arm and slid up the well-developed musculature to his face, cupping his cheek as their mouths joined. Slowly Carver turned her, before walking her backwards toward the bed. Lorna felt a post bump into her back, as he held her trapped there, their lips still merged. A newfound urgency infused the kiss, as Lorna explored the strong bands of muscle and rock-hard skin that made up Carver's chest and arms with her hands, the sensitive palms tingling from the hair-dusted skin. Carver groaned into her mouth, a purely masculine sound that sent shivers rushing through Lorna's nerves, negating any maidenly hesitation she might have had. Her husband pressed closer, his thighs trapping her against the edge of the bed and it was her turn to moan and arch slightly in surprise at the hardness she felt pressing against her abdomen.

Ready to burst from the ache burgeoning beneath her skin, Lorna flipped their positions, pushing Carver back into a sitting position on the bed. For a moment, she merely cupped his head between her hands; searching his hungry eyes, before inclining her head to his once more.

Carver pressed her close, his hands firm on her back, so she stood within the V of his still clothed legs. Lorna sighed and allowed the movement, trailing her hands down his neck, sliding them as far as she could reach down his back.

Abruptly, as Carver aggressively attacked her mouth, devouring it; Lorna wrenched from his lips, breathing raggedly. He switched tactics, sliding his lips down her chin until he reached her throat, nuzzling down its long and graceful column. She gasped, her hands gliding into his hair, curving over his skull, holding him to her. His lips consumed what he had coveted for so long, and which now belonged to him forever, as Lorna moaned and swayed slightly in his hold, her muscles turned to jelly. Inhaling deeply, Carver paused in his exploration of her skin, looking up into her wide eyes.

They glittered with desire and curiosity, anticipation and a dizzy passion. She smiled and brushed his lips with hers, calling to him. The scent of her called to the prowling beast within him, as he tried to maintain control but she was testing its weak moorings to their limits. Just the thought of her soft body, at last his to claim, so near him was enough to make him want to seize her and slake his lust.

Once again, he focussed dazedly on her gleaming eyes, so deep and sensuous, alive. He searched them for signs of fear, or hesitation, or uncertainty. He found only acceptance, and an ill-disguised impatience.

Allowing his usual devilish smirk to return, albeit slightly strained, Carver drew her close, his hands loose around her waist. He trapped her eyes in his, as he reached for the tie of her robe.

Lorna sucked in a breath.

"I've waited sixteen years…" he began hoarsely, pulling the tie loose and letting it fall to the ground. The robe gaped open, as Lorna's dewed skin heated anew. Carver, his eyes steady on hers continued, "…for this moment, for you. Now I have you."

Her swollen lips parted, Lorna watched his hungry eyes survey his prize, feeling herself won. Wherever his eyes touched, her skin heated and flushed, tempting him.

Gently, tenderly, knowing he had only limited time before his strained control gave way, Carver leaned forward and placed hot kisses down the line of her throat and collarbone, down to the point between her breasts. Shivering now, her head arched towards the ceiling, waiting breathlessly for his next caress, Lorna found the strength to speak.

"You have my heart. Don't break it," she murmured, almost pleading. He alone now held the power to destroy or to save her now. Their eyes met, and understanding flashed between them, before Carver placed an open-mouthed kiss over the spot where her heart beat thunderously. Accepting her fate, Lorna dropped her hands from his hair and let them fall to her sides, her robe falling to the ground. Fearlessly, she met Carver's surprised gaze before his eyes hungrily devoured her body. She met his eyes, smiling shyly before twining her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he took her weight and lifted her astride him, so the sensitive skin of her thighs rode against his still clothed legs. She trembled but didn't pause in their kiss, if anything her lips devoured his with renewed passion. Her long hair covered her back like a sable cape, as his hand stroked down its length.

Pressing herself to him, delighting in the feel of his skin scalding hers, Lorna gladly sank against him, unafraid of the possessiveness she could feel building in every touch, every kiss, every caress of their bodies. Carver's hands explored every inch of her body, pressing into the smooth flesh, soft and heated. Feeling his hands where before they had only caressed whilst screened by her woollen skirts and linen stomachers she shivered, her chest rising and falling raggedly.

Beneath her skin, it felt like molten desire was being poured down every vein, making her heart pound and her body ache for his touch. There was a pulsing void deep within her, waiting to be filled.

At the thought, Lorna pressed her lips to his neck, seeing if the pleasure he could press on her was reciprocal. His tense shudder assured her it was, as she laid a trail of kisses down his neck before pressing her hand into the skin of his pectoral. It made no indentation on the already stone-like muscle. Raising her eyes to his, she drowned in the possessive hunger she saw there, as their lips met, frantically joining as one, whilst both craved a deeper joining, of both body and soul.

Feeling that need, that craving intensify at the feel of her soft body sinking to his, Carver held her weight as he stood and turned them. Breaking their kiss, he never broke eye contact as he laid her down on the bed, making sure her head lay on one of the pillows. She tensed slightly as his full weight settled on her, her hands clutching his forearms before she relaxed into the supportive heather stuffed mattress. Watching her, her glorious hair spread over the pillows of their bed, and nubile body ready beneath his, Carver took her lips, tilting her head back against the pillow, deepening the angle of their kiss.

With a content sigh, Lorna sank into his arms, as the warm body above hers, ready to claim her finally did.

Body, heart and soul.

This was where she truly belonged.

Hours later, whilst outside a summer storm raged and thundered, within the meeting hall of the Doones, Lorna lay sunk in her warm bed, sated and replete; and unable to move. Her eyes opened lazily, as she rolled onto her front, her hand searching for the source of her satiation. Her hand met empty space as she frowned dazedly at the absence of her husband. She stretched carefully, her muscles twingeing in unexpected places. Wincing slightly, the ache in her muscles was soon superseded by heat at her back, as Carver leaned over her, his breath tickling her ear.

"Are you alright?" he asked huskily, concern evident in his voice.

"Yes," she breathed on a whispery sigh, shifting slightly beneath him. A moment later she felt his lips caress the indent of her spine desirously, in the small of her back. "Very."

"It wasn't quite what you expected, was it?" he asked, smirking when he felt her shiver. Lorna shook her head.

"No. I had heard it can be quite painful for a woman, but of course you would know all about that," she murmured, alleging to his extensive experience, both consensual and not so consensual. She felt Carver sigh against her back, before he pulled himself higher and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his hand pulling her leg outward.

"Let's not dwell on the past tonight, Lorna," he murmured. "Those days are over."

Lorna was unable to reply to those words, as she felt him press into her body for the second time that night. Her breath fractured on a sigh, as she contentedly relaxed under his hand. "Are you alright? It doesn't hurt?" he asked concernedly, his voice a tight growl.

"I'm fine," she replied breathlessly, shifting slightly against him. She was more than fine; she was a step away from heaven.

"No," Carver admonished gently, stilling her movement. Their first lovemaking had been urgent and almost brutally passionate, once they were together. Buried in her body, where he'd dreamed of being for so long, his control had shattered. He had never wished to hurt her, but the need to claim her as his had been too strong to ignore. Not that Lorna seemed to be suffering any ill effects; her body was just as ready as before, but this time he needed her to remain still. He doubted she could survive another lovemaking like the last without suffering for it the next day.

"Lie still and just let me love you," he murmured as she tried to shift back against him again. She sighed but did as he asked of her, pleasure coursing through her as they made love for a second time, her body willing and accepting.

She cried his name when she shattered, her mind and senses sliding over a precipice of pleasure into sated oblivion.

Lorna slept in the arms of her husband, utterly limp and boneless, exhausted by the events of the night. Carver smiled, feeling an inner peace settle over him that he had never experienced before, drawing her closer against him as he closed his eyes and joined her in sated oblivion.

Together they slept, hearts and bodies entwined, whilst the storm raged itself out.

That night was to be the peace before the storm for them, when they would face trials that would test their love to its limits, and decide the fate of all Doones.