Kensington Aphrodisia
ISBN-10: 0758228708
ISBN-13: 9780758228703
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EXCERPT

Chapter 1

Everything about Dauer of Hargarren reeked of evil.

Dragging her steps, Larra trudged down the center aisle of the church, clutching a mishmash of autumn flowers to her breast. Excited whispers followed in her wake.

"His face is so horrid that to look upon him is to go insane."

"He consorts with witches and demons."

"His last wife threw herself from the highest tower rather than spend one night in his bed."

"He's a beast!"

Harsh comments turned her blood to ice. All her life she and her maids exchanged terrifying tales of Dauer. When they became older, the tales were of his perverse sexual needs—dark passions involving restraints and ravenous hunger. They speculated his staff was bigger than a stallion's and thoroughly insatiable. Larra never admitted to anyone that the twisted stories left her aroused despite her fear. However, that had been when he was just a bogyman, a creature of myth and salacious fairy-tales. To see him now, waiting for her at the altar, knowing he would soon have the right to do anything he pleased with her . . . Larra stumbled, righted herself, and continued plodding along the aisle.

Covered in a gray cloak, Dauer overshadowed the diminutive Father Ealthen with his sinister presence. Even the bright afternoon light pouring through the stained glass windows disappeared in the darkness of his massive form.

A desire to turn and run possessed her but she knew escape was futile. Her sister had posted guards all over the church.

"You'll marry him now or I'll imprison you until you do."

Her sister's brutal edict still rang in Larra's ears. She knew she was only a pawn in her sister's lust for power but she never thought Andace would stoop this low. Dauer had multiple wives, none that ever lasted more than a few weeks before a tragic death. Larra was convinced her sister prayed for her timely demise so that all of their father's riches would be exclusively hers. What little she gave in dowry to Dauer would barely dent the vast family wealth. Even when Larra swore she would retreat to an abbey, thus refusing any part of their inheritance, Andace refused.

"You do me no good there." Andace tossed her the mangled bouquet. "Now go."

When Larra hesitated, Andace shoved her toward the door, ripping the back of her ivory dress and pulling out a hank of her brown hair. Her dearest maid pressed her lips together to stop herself from crying, her whole face twisted in genuine sympathy. Such was the look of most people in the pews.

Andace hadn't even bothered to line the church with fresh flowers so the air was heavy with the sweat of villagers too poor to afford finery or even to bathe. Andace allowed her to wash. Cold water and no perfumes but at least on her wedding day she was clean. So greedy for any speck of wealth, her sister removed her delicate gold filigree earrings saying that Dauer would provide for her now.

Heart racing, palms sweaty, Larra finally trudged up the final steps to the altar. Father Ealthen looked as stricken as she felt. He mumbled his way through the ceremony. Behind her, the villagers sat with perfect stillness; no shuffling of feet, no coughing, not even one fussy child. Too mesmerized by the spectacle before them to even breathe loudly, they simply observed. As much as they might want to intervene, they couldn't without suffering vicious reprisals. Andace ruled Relmon through might. She commanded an army of hardened soldiers and used them to enforce her edicts.

Purple silk trembled in Father Ealthen's grip when he said, "Lift your hands."

Larra froze, expecting to see a mangled claw extend from Dauer's woolen sleeve. Before she could retreat, he clasped her right hand with his left, lifting them together. His grip was firm but not crushing. Dauer's massive hand seemed normal enough despite the black leather gloves, yet her heart raced at his touch. The heat of his flesh bled through the animal hide, warming her icy fingers.

While Father Ealthen wrapped the silk around their clasped hands and intoned the sacred words, Larra tried to see within the gloom of Dauer's hooded cloak. When she saw nothing but blackness, she shivered and turned her gaze away. Perhaps it was for the best she didn't look too closely. She would see his horrible visage soon enough, looming over her in the dark while he did unspeakable things to her body.

Quivering again, this time with a curious blend of dread and desire, she inadvertently squeezed his hand. To her surprise, he squeezed back. Did he understand her trepidation? Had he asked for her specifically or had he been willing to take any woman?

Together they turned and faced the pews. Larra thought they must look like the grim reaper with a doll clutched in his fist rather than his scythe.

As they exited the church, Larra had to take two steps to his one and no whispered comments greeted her ears. The people of Relmon wouldn't dare to incur his wrath. Larra vowed she wouldn't either. She would follow his orders and when he came to her at night, she would close her eyes tightly so she couldn't see him. If she did, she might live longer than a few weeks.

His horse-drawn carriage waited at the bottom of the church steps. Larra expected it to be black but it was white with accents of yellow and blue. She had forgotten those were his family colors because she always thought of him in black, as befitted his reputation.

Dauer entered then helped her inside. He settled her next to him with their bound hands nestled between their bodies. By ritual, they would stay bound until they reached his home.

Once she closed the door, the carriage took off, but the ride was unnaturally smooth, as if they skimmed across ice. She found this odd but was too worried about her proximity to Dauer to give it much thought.

Heavy blue fabric shrouded the windows, blocking most of the light. Her own breathing sounded loud and fast but Dauer's was slow, calm, like an animal stalking prey. If he had a tail, it would be twitching in anticipation.

Trapped in the enclosed space, Larra tried to put some distance between them but there was nowhere for her to go. She expected him to smell of corruption and death but he smelled pleasantly of leather, wool, and wood smoke. She wanted to speak, to pelt him with a hundred questions, but a lump of fear prevented her throat from working.

When she glanced at him, his cloak lay open, exposing the thick leather belt around his waist. One of the perverse tales flashed through her mind:

Dauer caught a young woman stealing from his garden so he imprisoned her. Each night he would force her to her knees, demanding that she suck him, but his cock was too big so she always failed. As punishment, he clamped her tender nipples and whipped her bottom with a water-soaked lash until she screamed for forgiveness. Unheeding of her pleas, he then allowed all his men to plunge within her tender depths while he lurked in the shadows, stroking himself to fulfillment.

Picturing herself as that tormented woman caused Larra to tremble and wrap her arm around herself.

"Are you cold or frightened?"

His voice shocked her. She thought his tone would be shrill and keening like a seething beast, but his voice was smooth, dangerously low, rumbling like a winter creek clogged with ice. He had a beautiful voice. It clashed with everything she'd ever thought about him. How could a malformed monster possess the voice of a satyr?

"Both?" she finally answered.

Fire and brimstone laced his wicked chuckle. He pulled a blanket from under their seat and placed it on her lap. "This will help with the chill. As for the other, I'm afraid there is no cure for your terror."

"Are you what they say?" When the question left her mouth, she wanted to swallow it back for it was foolish to poke at a swarming beehive.

"Oh, I assure you, I am worse than what they say. I rape nuns and eat children. I drink virgin's blood and then suck their eyeballs from their screaming faces. I have the head of a bull, the snout of a pig, and the cock of a stallion. My lust knows no bounds and my perversion no limits. I am a beast through and through."

He paused for a moment then turned his head to whisper directly into her ear, "And now, I have you."