Awakening His Lady: Novella (Norfolk Knights Book 3) Page 3

  His fingers drove into her hair, around her head, pulling her mouth once more to his. This time she parted her lips under his and melted against his body. The sense of everything dissolving continued as the tip of his tongue met hers in a sensuous interplay in which all their thoughts, all their feelings and all their needs were concentrated.

  His grip on her body tightened and she shifted on his lap, closer to him, her arms slowly drawing up and around his shoulders. They felt so different to her husband’s who, despite his acid tongue and free use of his leather belt, was physically slight. Guy’s muscles flexed under her touch and filled out to meet her cupped palm.

  But that wasn’t the only thing that was different. She could feel him rigid beneath her bottom. She stilled for a moment and then shifted slightly, closer to the point that she wanted to feel him against her. She gasped at the feel of him pressing intimately against her. Her body was on fire as she looked down at his face with lips parted, filled with an awareness of how much she wanted him.

  She pushed her hands through the rough stubble on his chin and cheeks, and edged over his ears and into his hair. With her hands cupped either side of his face, she drew him to her. The time for preliminaries was over. She knew what she wanted. She moved her mouth to his, hungry now, for all that she’d missed over the years. The kiss was deep; their tongues slid against each other as if the taste of each other created only more need, more hunger that only intimacy could satisfy.

  Suddenly she felt his grip around her waist tighten and he stood up, holding her easily in his arms. She tried to bring his head down to hers but he drew away and smiled.

  “There’s no need to rush any more, Angel. I would take the time to savour you.” He glanced upstairs to her private bedchamber. “Besides, the solar will be more private for what I have in mind.”

  He set her down, continuing his tight hold around her, as if fearful she would disappear if he let her go. Then, with one arm still tight around her, they walked up the worn stone steps to the solar. She felt as if she were in a dream—her body heated with desire but her mind registering the strength of his arm around her, and the chill draft that blew in from the open embrasures, cooling and stimulating at the same time.

  He pushed open the door and kissed her. Even as they still kissed he picked her up and her legs slid around his hips as if they were coming home. He walked the few steps to the bed and gently lay her down on the grey fur coverlet, whose scarlet lining matched the scarlet of the cushions.

  The dying embers from the fire surged into life and cast a rich light over the tapestries. She looked up into eyes that pulsed as hotly. “You imagine this to be my wedding day that you should carry me into the chamber?”

  “Aye. It is as sacred a vow I give to you now, as I would on our wedding day.”

  His words melted her heart and she reached down and kissed him, a gentle kiss. “You, Sir Guy, are still the decent, loving man you always were. I can hardly believe you’ve changed so little.”

  “Oh, I’ve changed. But not for what I feel for you. That, I shall always feel.”

  She pressed her finger to his lips. “Nay. No more words.” And, before he could gainsay her, she’d pressed her lips to his and his mouth took possession of hers with a need and ferocity that robbed her of any further thought.

  His hands swept around her body, fanning around her back, and lower, holding her tight against him, as their breathing quickened and the needs of their bodies became paramount. She pulled away, panting. “Guy, please, I need you.”

  His face was grim with control as he stepped away. He gripped the sides of her loose surcote and she raised her hands, allowing him to sweep it over her head and toss it to one side.

  She smiled and they briefly came together in another searing kiss before he pulled away and unpinned the silver brooch that held together the long slit at the neck of her kirtle. He trailed a fingertip around the outline of the low opening, watching her expression all the while. Her skin puckered under his deft touch and she gasped as his finger touched the tip of her breast. She could stand it no longer and wriggled out of her kirtle, pulling down the tight sleeves until his hands took over and drew it up and over her head before casting it aside.

  She stood, then, just in her under clothes—the fine linen clinging to her full breasts, its near transparency revealing the rest of her body. She felt herself throb and moisten as his eyes strayed down the length of her body.

  His hands grazed her nipples as they moved to her shoulders where he pushed the loose gown down as far as her breasts. Suddenly Angelique panicked and clamped the shift to her breasts, stopping it from falling to the floor.

  He frowned. “What is wrong?”

  She shook her head, not knowing how to tell him about the changes marriage had wrought to her body. He was still imagining her as a young 16-year-old girl, not a woman who’d been beaten and who’d had children who’d died.

  He swept her hair from her face tenderly. “Tell me, Angel, what is it? What would you hide from me? There is nothing I would not know about you. Let your shift fall, Angel.”

  It was too late to retreat. She closed her eyes and did as he bade her.

  Chapter 5

  Guy had waited so long for this moment but, for some reason, he couldn’t shift his gaze from her eyes, despite the fact he was acutely aware the riches of her body that gleamed in the firelight. It was her eyes. There was an intensity to them, a fear almost. He shook his head. A fear? Like he’d be somehow disappointed? He reached out and smoothed her hair that was curling wildly around her face. “What is it, Angel? Why do you look at me so?”

  She opened her mouth to speak but no sound was uttered. She licked her lips as if they were suddenly parched. “I’m scared.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “There’s nothing to be scared of, sweetheart. I’m here.”

  She took his head in her hands and kissed him. Then she drew away, back, and back again. “Look at me. Really look.”

  Guy let his gaze fall then. “Beautiful,” his voice was hushed, awed. He swept his hands down and around her full breasts. She started as his thumbs rubbed over her nipples. He shook his head. “What are you afraid of? You are more beautiful than I had imagined. And I have a great imagination.”

  “Look further.”

  His hands followed his eyes down to her stomach and lower, and stopped suddenly. Scars, ridged and white in the light, crossed her belly. “Sweet Jesus,” he looked up at Angel, who looked pale in the dim light. “What happened?”

  “My husband, believing I was dying and caring not in the least for me, tried to force my midwife to save the baby by taking it from my belly. He commanded her to cut me, which she had to do, but thank the Lord, my husband refused to watch, and so my midwife did not proceed further. If she had, I would surely have died. As it was, my baby died.” She gave a bitter laugh. “A reversal of what my husband wanted. Unfortunately, the midwife was made to pay for her care for me.”

  A surge of anger swept over him. “He was mad. He must have been to wish you dead.” He felt sick just thinking of it.

  “No. Just cruel. Just selfish. Just a husband for whom I was nothing but a disposable chattel. Luckily the midwife did not agree.”

  He brought her close to him, covering her with his body. “My love. For all that you have suffered, I am truly sorry. If the man were not dead already, I would kill him now.” She shivered in his arms. She looked so vulnerable. He turned away quickly, pushing his fingers through his hair, twisting one way and then another, as conflicting feelings, of anger, guilt, regret and pity waged inside. He did not know what to do, what to think. All he could feel was his beautiful Angel, vulnerable and sad beside him. He needed to make her comfortable once more. He plucked a robe and turned back to her, pulling it round her shoulders, hiding her beautiful body, as well as the scars.

  She pulled away from him, her eyes huge but averted. She sat on the edge of the bed, the robe pulled around her, her hair wild around
her face and shoulders. “I knew it.” She gazed away from him, toward the fire. “I knew it.”

  He frowned and sat on the bed. “What did you know?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Look at me, Angel. Look at me, talk to me.”

  He knelt on the bed and took her in his arms. She was stiff, refusing to relax, her gaze still fixed on the fire. He pressed a kiss to her head and she turned to him sadly then. “I knew you would not want me, when you saw me as I am. Maimed. Ugly.”

  He exhaled in relief, half laughing as he fought to hold her more tightly, to bring her around so she was nestled in his arms as he lay back on the bed. “Is that all? ’Tis me who feels at fault; I feel as if I am to blame. That is all. I should have been here, looked after you. I should have never let you go.”

  She relaxed then. “The past is done. There is no point in feeling guilty, no point in thinking about what might have been.” She looked up into his eyes. “All we have is now, my body, as it is. But it’s not enough, is it?”

  “Angel,” he caught her chin and forced her to look at him. “You are correct. It isn’t enough, but not in the way you think. You are as beautiful to me now, as you ever were. So… your skin bears scars. So does mine—to my body, to my heart, to my soul. Battle scars, all. There is nothing we can do about these things and they make you no less beautiful in my eyes. You are… you always will be… more than enough for me. You are all that I want in this world.” He closed his eyes as her hand gently touched his face. It seemed such softness should have no right to be placed against his battle-hardened face. “I want your body, Angel, of course I do and it’s beautiful. But ’tis not all I want.” He pushed away the veil of her hair. “I want all of you—your mind, your skin, your heart, your scars. All of you.”

  “Oh, Guy. I cannot allow myself to be vulnerable. I have to leave, I have to go away, escape the future the King wishes to impose on me. The scars go deeper than my skin. They’ve severed my connection with anything resembling a normal life. I doubt I can trust anyone again. I want no more lies, no more deceit.”

  He sucked in a harsh breath. He needed to tell her the truth. He couldn’t continue as planned, now that he knew of her past sufferings. “Angel, there are things I need to tell you.”

  “What do you need to tell me that will change what we have now? We are both here this night. Let’s forget the past, ignore the future and take all that we can today.”

  He narrowed his eyes and hesitated. Was she right? Certainly his body agreed with her. He wanted her. And then, if he wanted more? Nay, he couldn’t tell her. If he told her, all would be lost. She would leave, have no more to do with him. He had to persuade her to take him as he was, first. He’d show her. He had tonight. It had to be enough.

  He pressed his lips to hers to stem any further argument. It worked. He felt the words escape into a breath that he inhaled. He focused on her lips, willing her to understand the needs of his body and heart through that kiss. But what started off as a tender kiss, deepened as she whimpered and relaxed in his arms. Only then did he take his lips away. “Lay down, Angel.”

  Despite the deliberate softness of his voice, she frowned briefly. “No, you want more than I can give.”

  “You’re wrong. I only want what you’re willing to give. No more, no less.”

  But the frown lingered. “And the things you need to tell me? They can wait?”

  He took a lock of her long hair—a rich tawny red in the light of the flickering flames of the fire and jewel-like upon the rich silk threads of the tapestried pillows that lay jumbled with the scarlet cushions—and trailed it around her breast. “Yes. No more words. Not now.”

  Her brow relaxed and she exhaled softly, nodding.

  Deftly, he untied the cloak and pushed it from her shoulders, admiring her beauty. He stood up and pulled his tunic over his head. “There are many things I need to tell you. But the most important? That, I will show you instead.”

  Chapter 6

  She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them she saw what she’d been wanting to see; what she’d only been seeing in her dreams and mind and imagination; what her body had known but her eyes had never seen. Even if she’d seen him naked years ago, she wouldn’t have recognized him now. There was power everywhere: from the hard, rounded muscles that bunched in his arms, more used to wielding a sword than a quill, to the tight ripple of strength across his stomach. He’d always been a man of control and it showed in his body. Never more so now, when her eyes settled on his cock: thick and long like his body. She shifted her hips instinctively and felt a throb of arousal, deep inside.

  She looked up into his eyes and any remaining feelings of discomfort over her scars were swept away by how he looked at her. His face was alight with lust. She could see he thought she was beautiful. He didn’t need to say anything. He was right, the time for words was past.

  “Your skin is beautiful.” The rough pad of his forefinger softly traced her jaw, neck and chest before his hand cupped her breast. “And your breasts.” Her breath shuddered from her as he put both hands under her full breasts and rubbed his thumb over her nipples. “Your breasts are more beautiful than I ever imagined. And, believe me, I’ve imagined them many times.”

  She looked at him alarmed and suddenly doubtful. “My husband used to say they weren’t the breasts of a lady, but of a coarse maid.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “No, it’s just that I didn’t know…”

  “Know this, Angel, your breasts are beautiful.” He lowered his lips and kissed the top of each one lightly and reverently in turn. Then he played with her nipples, rubbing them with his thumb and fingers until they extended under his touch. She gasped under the flood of strange sensations that swept through her body, stirring it in a way she’d never imagined. She arched her back so that her breasts pushed further into his hands.

  A smile flickered through the mask of intense concentration on his face. Then he descended to her breasts and his mouth found the tightened flesh where his thumbs had just been. He flicked it with his tongue—first one nipple and then the other before he dropped his head and suckled her hard. She cried out as the spiralling sensations suddenly merged, gathered and exploded inside her. She trembled as he drew her more tightly into his arms, holding her until the shaking ceased.

  He withdrew and swept his hands down her body and around her hips. He settled in front of her and traced a finger lightly around her hips. She lay back, eyes closed, focusing all her attention on his hands that continued their journey of exploration, further still to the most private of places. He traced a finger lightly around her sex and she gasped and opened her eyes to see his mouth curving into a smile, as he played with her.

  “Angel, you are so ready for me.”

  She swallowed and nodded. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”

  He grinned. “Then I’d best not tarry any longer.”

  He dropped down his head and, with his tongue, lathed the bud that was tight with sensation.

  He pulled away, too soon, and kissed her again on the lips. The feel of his hard, muscled chest against her soft skin was intoxicating. She felt heady with need and pushed herself against him, rubbing hard to regain the exquisite sensations that shimmered through her body as her nipples rubbed against his chest, and his hips ground against hers, pressing his cock against her sex.

  Any lingering doubts evaporated under the feel of him against her, of the heat of his mouth on hers, breathing her in, her breathing him in.

  They were nothing like their kisses of old that had been innocent by comparison. His tongue slid against hers, his body pressed against hers and his hands swept around her bottom, pulling her tight against his arousal.

  “’Tis you, Angel,” he gasped between kisses. “Only you. I’ve never wanted anyone more. You want power? You have it all.” As his lips met hers once more she realized she believed him. There was only one reason she was with Guy and that was because she want
ed to be.

  He pulled back from her and she strained to keep his mouth pressed against hers. But he would have none of it. He smiled and pressed his finger against her lips, his eyes hooded. “Patience, my Angel. You might have the power but I would explore your body a little first. Re-acquaint myself with it.”

  He held her gaze but raked his fingernails down her stomach, stopping only to gently caress the scar that ran across her skin, before descending to cup her sex. And lower…

  She fell back against the cushions and grey fur coverlet, as her body responded to the subtle, and then not to subtle, stimulations of his fingers. He shifted lower and she pushed her fingers through his thick hair, grasping it more tightly as his fingers moved lower. “You’re so wet, my love.” He reached up and kissed her.

  She moaned as the intensity coiled and built inside her, and opened her mouth to his tongue, shifting her legs open at the same time. The kiss deepened as he thrust his finger slickly around and then penetrated her. She gasped against his mouth and opened her legs still wider and he slipped a second finger inside her. At the same time he pulled his mouth from hers, and turned to watch his fingers at work.

  She inhaled sharply and drew one arm under her head so she could see him better, so she could watch him, watching her, as his fingers slid repeatedly in and out of her: a repetition that was no repetition, but an accumulation of tension taking her closer to that blissful oblivion for which she now longed. Each movement of his fingers was the same, but each movement notched her one step higher. Then three fingers; she felt the pressure and sensations increase. She tried to hold back, to wait for the part of him she wanted, so badly, deep inside of her, but she couldn’t. And her head fell back and she cried out as the rhythm continued and she pushed herself onto his hand, wanting him to feel the movement of her, the quivering, fluttering sensations within her and the intensity of her, swamp his fingers.