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The First of a Hundred Days	By : Bluejay Category: S through Z > The Sharpe Books Views: 1784 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the book(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The First of a Hundred Days
- 1
Sharpe smiled at the rifle he was holding in his hands. It felt heavy, heavier than it had ever felt before. He finally realised that the fighting was over and that there would be peace. He laid down the rifle and turned to look at Lucille.

“It’s over,” he said.

“Over?” She sounded serious. “No, Richard, maybe it’s over for now, but you will always be a soldier, whatever the clothes you wear. And when Wellington calls you, you will be off again.”

Sharpe took her in his arms and buried his face in her hair, revelling in the sweet scent of her body.

“I’ve told ya before and I promise ya now, there won’t be any more fighting fer me, Lucille,” he whispered. “There will be only us and nothing else.”

He sensed her uneasiness and pulled her even closer.

“I truly wish it could be like that, mon cher. There has been so much bloodshed, so many lost ...”

Her voice trailed off and her warm breath against his chest caused a stirring deep in his belly.

“I know, luv’,” he said, “but we’re still here and that’s all that matters now.”

She looked up at him and smiled into his green eyes. He looked younger today, nearly carefree. He was looking the way he should have looked when he was a boy, but she was sure he had never been like that then. She knew he'd always been busy surviving and if it hadn’t been for people like Patrick Harper, she doubted if he would even be here today. A rush of heat went through her and she suddenly yearned for him with every fibre in her body. Her fingers found the buttons on his shirt while she pushed her belly against the hardness that proved to her he was feeling the same way.

“What’s this now, luv’?” he teased. “It’s the middle of the day. What should we do if there were a visitor?”

Her fingers didn’t stop their work and soon she pulled the shirt from his shoulders.

“I don’t care,” she whispered, her fingers finding the buttons on his breeches now.

Sharpe pulled the pins from her black hair so it tumbled in thick curls down her back. He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her long and deep, savouring every second. Then he slowly, teasingly moved his finger along the edge of her low-cut dress and felt her nipples harden under his touch. Her hand paused and he heard her soft intake of breath when his hand slid into her bodice, pulling the dress from her shoulders and freeing her breasts. He kissed her neck and then let his mouth move downwards until he found her nipple. He flicked his tongue around it, while his fingers slowly and languorously massaged her breasts.
She felt her knees grow weak and threw her arms around his neck pulling him closer, but her movements were restricted by the dress Sharpe had pulled down her arms. She tried to wriggle them free but it was no good. Any movement made the dress slide down a bit further, but never enough to free them.

Sharpe noticed her discomfort and lifted his head, green eyes gleaming mischievously.

“What are ya tryin' to do now, you vixen?” he asked, She wriggled a bit more, achieving nothing but making her breasts jiggle up and down. He grinned and pulled on the back of the dress a bit more so that her arms were totally restricted and her breasts were pulled upwards.

"Richard," she moaned, "please!”

He didn't say anything but bent his head forward again, flicking his tongue first round one nipple and then the other, but his caresses were so light she moaned again and tried to wriggle her breasts towards his mouth but every time it felt like he was going to take her in he pulled back again, grinning.

She groaned in frustration and thought her knees would never be able to support her if he were to weaken his hold now.

"Richard.. ," she tried again, "I don't think..."

He grinned again and pulled her against him, his hands sliding down until he was holding her firm buttocks. He was now squeezing her firmly against his body and she felt his hardness press against her belly. She sighed again and closed her eyes and she was now certain her legs were not going to hold her if he were to lose his grip.

His face was very close to hers, and she saw his smile.

"This is what happens when little girls get naught-eh in the middle of the day," he said, lifting her and and sitting her on the edge of the kitchen table where they had just finished their meal. His knee shoved her legs apart and she could see his cock straining against the rough material of his breeches. He kissed her breasts again and she felt a soft draught caressing the moist skin where his tongue had been. She was inwardly cursing the fact they were still wearing most of their clothes.

"Please, Richard," she tried again." I want to hold you."

She thought he was going to release her, but he didn't in the way she had expected. His hand found the front of her dress and pulled hard. She heard the material rip and suddenly her arms were free. She gasped when he rubbed himself hard between her parted legs and she could feel his cock against her pussy, hard and demanding. She threw her arms around his neck and hooked her legs around his waist, her insides trembling with a delicious anticipation.

“Please,” she said again. He laughed teasingly and tore the rest of the dress off her, making her gasp for breath. His mouth was on hers again, his breathing heavy and she noticed his hands doing something behind her back. It didn't register until she heard the sound of falling crockery and realised he must have done the dishes in a totally novel way. She didn't even want to protest. Her whole world was now her sensitive body. Sharpe’s long sensuous fingers found their way down her throat, sending shivers of pleasure down to her very core, they cupped her breasts, and finally nearly encircled her waist. Every one of his movements was rousing her more and she lifted her hips to rub her pussy against his cock but there were still too many clothes between them.

She moved her hands between them and managed to unbutton his breeches. They slid down his hips easily, finally freeing his cock and she could see how much he was longing for her too. She heard his breathing become heavier when she closed her hand around him.

"Careful now, luv’," he sighed low against her throat. “Ye don't want me to spend me powder too soon, do ye?"

She giggled softly when he said that but let up a bit and he sighed deeply, pushing her backwards until she was lying on the table. He pulled the rest of her clothes down hurriedly, feverishly and the ripping sounds only served to excite her even more.

She hooked her legs around his waist again, the tip of his cock now pressing against her wetness, searching, pushing and then he was inside her, filling her to the core, his hands round her waist pulling her closer and making his thrusts even deeper. He closed his eyes, picking up a steady rhythm, sweat sheening his brow now and she grabbed hold of the edge of the table and squeezed her cunt around him until she heard a low groan from his throat and she felt the tension explode deep in her belly. She opened her eyes and looked into his. His face was tense, long lashes lying against his cheeks. And while she watched, feeling the waves of her orgasm softly fading, he sighed deeply, his fingers digging in her flesh. His green eyes opened, dark with desire and he finally let himself go. She felt him come deep inside her. Warmth again spread through her belly and digging her heels in his back she whimpered deep down in her throat and came again and again.

Finally spent, he pulled her up in his arms, softly stroking her back and letting their breath get back to normal. She could still feel him softly stirring inside her but he was now so small she could barely hold him in.

"That was really good, luv’,” he whispered against her ear and even that caused a renewed stirring in her insides. She said nothing just smiled against his chest. When he didn't get an answer, he pulled her head back a bit and looked at her.

"I didn't hurt ya, did I?" he asked, sounding concerned.

She smiled and shook her head, still feeling his movement inside her. He kissed her, hard, and she knew he desired her again.

"Take me to bed, Richard," she said. "I want you to make love to me again."

"Ye up to that?" he asked, a gleam in his eyes.

"If you are," she said.

He grinned. "Just give me a few seconds, luv’," he grinned.

"Seconds?” she teased. "Don’t you mean hours?"

He shrugged. "Minutes then. Have you any idea how lovely ya look?”
She surprised herself by blushing under his gaze. He tenderly kissed her forehead and gathered her in his arms.

"Bedroom it is then, m’lady,” he said, kicking his breeches to one side and carrying her to the bedroom, where he laid her down on the duvet. He remained standing, looking at her admiringly until she felt her whole body was blushing.

"You are very beautiful,” he said in a low voice and she saw that he had indeed needed only minutes. She opened her arms and he lowered himself carefully over her body. Their lovemaking was slow and tender this time and they forgot the world, the wars and had no idea that today, on the first of March, 1815, Napoleon had disembarked at Golfe-Juan.
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The First of a Hundred Days