Fire and Liberty

Chapter Nine

You sauntered quietly through the frontier along the riverbank, your shoes crunching against rocks and gravel. After spending all your time in the city, you forgot how much you missed the wilderness, the serenity of it all. The pine and cedar were crisp against your senses. The river was a delightful sound compared to the droning voices of political meetings.

Your trek began to slow as you smelled the smoke. Up ahead burned a campfire. Connor's shadow stood tall and looming. His features were ablaze in the orange light, skin glistening with amber hues. You couldn't make out his expression in the darkening haze of dusk.

He must have heard your approach because he raised his gaze out to the woods. His voice was timid, a dark whisper of a sound, "I am relieved. I feared you would not come."

"Of course I did." Your heart jolted, racing from both the long hike and the nervousness that suddenly arose as you moved closer to him. "This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done but I..." You suddenly felt out of breath. "I couldn't leave you out here waiting."

"The choice you made was the right one to make."

You cautiously walked around the fire towards him. "Connor."

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," he corrected gently while rising to his feet. There was a sternness to his voice but his brows were arched, almost as if he needed to hear it come from your lips. He had been so close to you earlier in your room. His hands had been warm and his scent sharp. You wanted that again.

You softly muttered under your breath, "Ratonhnhaké:ton."

He leaned towards you, his chin tilting down as a fiery hot hand glided along your jaw and cheek. The sound of your name on his lips was breathy as if it had been a prayer.

You couldn't contain your desire any longer. You closed the distance, enveloping his lips with your own. Your hands gripped the thick muscles of his neck, pleading for more of him, desperate to have him rip away your clothes and leave you begging.

Something sparked in him as well. His fingers dug into the muscles of your back. Another hand jolted down to your thigh, hoisting your weight until your legs were wrapped around his hips.

Your tongue swept out until his lips parted and you could taste the pepper that still lingered on his tongue. You hungrily nibbled and nipped, your mouth molding his into submission.

Ratonhnhaké:ton moaned low in his throat. He wanted you, needed you, just as badly as you did. But then his head tilted downwards, lips parted and he panted for air. He pressed his forehead into yours and mumbled breathily, "It is too cold here."

Your gaze swept over the thin layer of snow then back to his swollen lips. "We could find an inn," you suggested before letting your lips teasingly kiss along his jaw and neck.

He leaned into your touch. His next moan was caught in his throat.

"There's one close by."

"Yes. There is one close by that I have seen." He eased you down onto your feet but his gaze was locked on you. "Are you certain this is what you want?"

You chuckled, "Shouldn't I be asking you that question? I'm the villain after all?"

"You are not a villain," he stated firmly. "You are much more than they have made you."

The corner of your lips twitched in a smirk. "They didn't make me into anything. I've seen the worst of people and can judge for myself that the Templars will provide guidance."

"Guidance? What guidance was there in burning down my village? In starting the Boston Massacre?"

You flinched away from him.