Winter of Solace (The Executioner Knights Book 5)

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Never like this.

  He pulled her closer.

  Caius’ mouth began to move. Suddenly, he was seized with the desire to taste every inch of the woman. My wife. As his mouth moved down her arm and began to suckle on her fingers, she brought those fingers to her own lips, tasting them.

  Caius went mad.

  His mouth descended on hers again, his tongue licking at her, tasting her, kissing her so deeply that she went limp in his arms. She was so pliable that he was able to lay her on her back without any resistance whatsoever. He suckled her lips, her skin, and she gasped beneath him and let him do whatever he wanted. When he decided the thin shift she had been wearing was no longer necessary, he snaked his hands underneath it and quickly pulled it over her head.

  Hot flesh against hot flesh nearly did him in, his big erection already demanding satisfaction. Beneath him, Emelisse’s eyes were half-lidded, watching his enormous body as he moved, lifting her hands so she could run her fingers through his dark hair as he suckled on her shoulder. As a maiden, she had always imagined this moment with a future husband would come with such embarrassment, naked and exposed, but Caius’ touch had been so exquisite that Emelisse felt no embarrassment at all. He was hot and big and muscular, and in spite of his great size, his weight wasn’t heavy on her in the least.

  There was something about it that excited her terribly.

  Caius’ lips were on her neck once more and he stroked her arms, moving out until he reached her wrists. Using both of his hands, he grasped her wrists and brought her arms up above her head. Emelisse was so wrapped up in the delicious sensations he was creating that she didn’t realize he had pinned both of her wrists, over her head, with one of his hands. When she realized that, she looked at him with puzzlement only to see him grinning lustily at her.

  “May I not touch you, too?”

  He shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her chin. “Nay,” he said hoarsely. “If you do, this will end far too quickly and I do not wish for it to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He laughed low in his throat. “You are a naïve, darling,” he murmured. “If I let your hands go, you’ll figure out what I mean very quickly. But for now, I do not wish to be interrupted in my pleasure, so simply lay there and enjoy it.”

  Emelisse had no idea what he meant that she should end this moment prematurely, but she trusted him. She nodded hesitantly and he smiled, kissing her again as he pulled her legs apart and settled his big body between them. Then, he lowered himself down onto her torso.

  The magic began to happen.

  His hot, wet mouth came to bear on a tender nipple, suckling firmly, and Emelisse let out a groan of both shock and delight. Something was unleashed in Caius now. His movements were quicker, more confident, and his hands fondled her full breasts as he suckled her nipples into taut little pellets. When his free hand wasn’t on her breasts, it was moving over her body, feeling her silken skin and arousing her in the process.

  Overwhelmed and swooning, Emelisse groaned beneath him as he worked her breasts, feeding from one to the other. She had such beautiful breasts, and an exquisitely beautiful body, and when his free hand moved to the fluff of dark curls between her legs, some primal impulse told Emelisse to open her legs wide to him. The wider the better, and Caius groaned softly as her body reacted to his touch. He stroked her gently at first, realizing that she was already prepared for his body to enter hers. She was slick and hot. Taking one of her tender earlobes between his teeth, he inserted a finger into her.

  Emelisse drew up her knees at the sensual intrusion, gasping as he thrust first one and then two fingers into her, mimicking the lovemaking they would soon be doing. Emelisse didn’t shy away from it. She thrust her pelvis forward, capturing his fingers, responding to him in ways she could have never imagined. When Caius finally withdrew his fingers and placed his enormous manhood at her threshold, Emelisse didn’t react other than to open her legs wider. Her body wanted him even if her mind was too naïve to realize it.

  She wanted more.

  Caius thrust into her, twice, before seating himself fully. It was as if her body was made for him and him alone, accommodating his big size, for other than the obvious twinge of pain as her innocence was taken, Emelisse never uttered a sound. She simply thrust her pelvis forward, mimicking his actions, demanding all of him. Shocked at her response, and thoroughly delighted, he knew without a doubt that this was the most exquisite coupling he’d ever known. There was something magnetic and sensual and thrilling about Emelisse, and he couldn’t get enough of her.

  Emelisse gasped as Caius began to move within her, thrusting steadily in and out of her body as his mouth suckled her breasts. He let go of her wrists and both hands fondled her buttocks, holding her pelvis against his as he moved within her. Her entire body was experiencing a delight of sensations as his thrusts began to build an exquisite friction between her legs. She could feel it low in her belly, a spark blossoming into a fire, reacting every time he moved within her.

  The harder he thrust, the greater the sensation until it suddenly exploded and ripples of bliss cascaded throughout her body. At the same time, she felt Caius give one final great thrust and he grunted with pleasure. She could feel his male member throbbing within her and, suddenly, her body reacted by exploding in a burst of bliss, one that rippled through her body like ripples in a pond, diminishing until all she could do was lay there and quiver.

  It was done.

  Caius was still on top of her, though he’d shifted so his full weight wasn’t on her. Still, his massive arms were around her, holding her close.

  “Are you well?” he whispered. “I did not hurt you, did I?”

  “Nay,” Emelisse murmured, still breathing heavily. “You were quite gentle.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “I am.”

  “You would tell me if I wasn’t?”

  “I think you will find that when I have something to say, I will say it.”

  She felt him chuckle against her. Finally, he released her enough so that he could lay his head on the pillow beside her, looking into her face. That lovely, exquisite face that had his attention from the first moment he saw her. Still, he could hardly believe she belonged to him. When their eyes met, he smiled warmly.

  “What are you thinking?” he murmured.

  Her gaze moved to him and she returned his smile. “I was thinking that this is an unexpected season.”

  “Unexpected season?” he repeated the strange phrasing. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that this has become my winter of solace,” she said. “For the past few years, every season brought its own concerns and discomforts, even terror. This winter brought about the worst until I met you. Though I am shattered over the death of my father and brother, you are a comfort I could have never imagined. I believed my life was over until I met you. Now… now, I think it is just beginning.”

  He smiled broadly, reaching out to cup her sweet face. Her skin was warm and soft, and he stroked it with his thumb.

  “I had not thought on it that way, but I think you are correct,” he said. “Our lives are just beginning, together. And I will work hard to ensure that every season you share with me is one of solace. I do not want to diminish the situation with de Wrenville, for we will still have to deal with the surprise and anger for our marriage, but as long as your faith in me does not change, I know we shall prevail.”

  Her smile faded. “I hope so.”

  In that moment, he could see her fear, the fear of a woman who had been captured by her worst enemy. Deep down, she was still afraid. Caressing her cheek, he kissed her on the top of her nose.

  “We shall,” he whispered. “I swear it.”

  She simply nodded, offering him a forced smile, and he pulled her into a crushing embrace against him, meant to comfort and shield her. Strange how he felt so powerful with her in his arms, as if there weren’t anything in this world that he couldn’t do. There was no mount
ain too high, no enemy too bold, that he could not conquer.

  As Emelisse fell into an exhausted sleep against him, his thoughts drifted to what was to come. The Marshal would undoubtedly view the marriage as a terrible complication, not to mention Covington would view it as having a possession stolen. The lady had been his prisoner and Caius had essentially stolen her.

  That was the gist of it.

  No mountain too high, no enemy too bold, that he could not conquer.

  He suspected that he was going to have to prove it.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Winterhold Castle

  “What do you mean she escaped?”

  It was early evening as Hallam and Kevin faced Covington and Marius in Covington’s gorgeous solar. Per Caius’ orders, they faced the pair together. When they’d entered the room, the mood had all the tides and trimmings of a victory celebration as father and son applauded their final triumph over the House of de Thorington. They were dressed in their finest and toasting each other with Covington’s very expensive Spanish wine while trays of smoked fish and hard cheese was laid out before them.

  Certainly, it felt like a celebration until Hallam delivered the news from Hawkstone. At that moment, the celebration came to an abrupt halt.

  The question came from Covington.

  “Hallam,” he very nearly shouted as he set his cut crystal cup to the nearest table. “What in the hell do you mean Lady Emelisse escaped? What happened?”

  Hallam and Maxton had worked out the scenario on their ride from Hawkstone, so he knew it by heart. Backwards and forwards. He knew every single word that he was supposed to say, but when Covington charged at him, bleating his demanding question, all Hallam could feel was disgust.

  Disgust and rage.

  That had never happened to him before, not like this.

  “Precisely that, my lord,” he said, launching into the story. “She asked to use the garderobe, so we permitted it. One does not usually follow a woman when she is taking care of, shall we say, necessities. While we were waiting for her a proper distance away, she escaped.”

  Covington was so astonished that he could hardly think straight. “Escaped?” he repeated. “From the garderobe?”

  “Through the garderobe, my lord,” Hallam pointed out, inferring the disgusting obvious. “I suppose she was desperate enough to do it. We did not discover her absence until sometime later. Worse still, she somehow killed one of our soldiers in the process. He must have tried to stop her. She is on the run now and Sir Caius and Sir Morgan have gone after her.”

  Covington’s eyes widened. “But what of her brother?” he asked. “Is he still in the keep?”

  “Still, my lord.”

  “Did she even speak with him? Did she tell him to surrender?”

  Hallam’s lie was about to grow. “She did,” he said. “But that was before she escaped. The brother said he would consider surrendering peacefully if she was brought back safely and that is what we are trying to do.”

  That gave Covington pause. It was a false hope that the intact keep might be surrendered without bombarding it and destroying it to remove the brother. A keep that was virtually intact would cost him less to rebuild in the long run. With that thought, he suddenly had hope that, truly, this would all be over soon if they could only find the lady.

  So close!

  “We found Rupert’s body not long ago,” he said. “It is drying out in the vault. Do you suppose we could use it to convince the brother to surrender now rather than later?”

  “I think you should wait until Caius and Morgan find the lady,” Hallam said. “A live sister will have more effect than a dead father.”

  Covington’s displeasure returned. “Then who else is looking for her?” he demanded. “You should have the entire army out looking for her. She must be brought back immediately!”

  But Hallam shook his head. “That would not work, my lord,” he said. “She would see them coming from a mile away. Nay, it will only work if men such as Sir Caius and Sir Morgan are searching for her in stealth. If she saw an army looking for her, she would only hide and we would never find her. It is better this way.”

  Covington wasn’t so sure. He looked at his son to see his reaction to all of this only to see that Marius looked much like his father. Enraged, he threw his expensive crystal cup into the hearth and stormed in Hallam’s direction.

  “This is your fault,” he hissed. “You stupid fool. You should never have let the woman go off by herself!”

  Hallam didn’t like Marius; he never had. He particularly didn’t like being called names by the man.

  “I am to stand at a lady’s side while she pisses?” he shot back quietly. “I think not, my lord.”

  “It is your fault she escaped!”

  Hallam remained calm. “I will only go so far in my duties as a knight and your father’s commander, but standing next to a woman as she relieves herself is where I draw the line,” he said, though his voice was getting louder as he spoke. “There was no way of knowing she would escape through the garderobe, but if I’d suspected she would, then I would have placed someone outside of the chutes to catch her. A pity I did not have the foresight you think I should have had.”

  Marius’ lip curled menacingly and Hallam was fully prepared to throw a punch at the man. He didn’t care if he was Covington’s son or not. But Covington mercifully stepped in, pushing the two of them apart.

  “Enough,” he said. “It is done. The fact remains that we must get her back, Hallam. I want her brother’s surrender. I do not agree that we should not send the army out to search for her. She cannot hide from so many men.”

  At that point, Kevin stepped in. Watching Hallam deal with Covington and Marius was like watching a noble wolfhound surrounded by two jackals. They circled Hallam and they growled at him, unnerved and disturbed.

  Kevin was always the pious and obedient one, different from the rest of the Executioner Knights in that regard, but he did not differ from them in the sense that he had a strong sense of right and wrong, and he was coming to loathe the de Wrenville men for their unerringly immoral and deceptive behavior.

  And he didn’t like in the least how they treated Hallam.

  “Hallam is correct, my lord,” he said, interrupting the building tirade. “Sending an army to search for her would only drive her into hiding, and if she was cornered, it might force her to do something… drastic.”

  Covington looked at him with outrage. “Drastic? Such as?”

  “Throwing herself into the river,” Kevin said ominously. “Pushing the blade of a dagger into her chest. Do you not care if she is returned to you dead? If that happens, then you must think of the consequences. Hawkstone will revert to the Crown and it is possible the king will not give it to you. I am sure he has heard about the riches on Hawkstone lands. He could very well keep it for himself or even give it over to another lord, a more important lord, as a political favor.”

  Covington’s expression of outrage turned to shock as he looked at his son.

  “Would he do that?” he asked. “Would he grant Hawkstone to another?”

  Marius had been in John’s court long enough to know that the king had many favorites over him. He spent his days following the king around like a puppy when he was allowed near the man. Truth be told, he had never told his father that he wasn’t the king’s most favored that he’d pretended to be. It was true that he was a courtier, and he mildly amused the king from time to time, but he wasn’t at all sure that John wouldn’t give Hawkstone to a warlord he liked better if the situation arose.

  It wasn’t exactly something he could, or would, admit.

  He had wanted his father to think that he was greater than he actually was. In his father’s eyes, he was only worth something to his father as long as he could provide something to him. In this case, it was a relationship to the king. The more Marius told his father of his great position within the king’s court, the more his father loved him.

  Th
erefore, he had never expected to tell him the truth of the situation. It was always something he intended to keep to himself. His father had been so happy when he thought his son was a favorite of the king, and when John had mentioned something about William Marshal’s family, and in that conversation, something about his unwed niece, that was when Marius had come up with the plot for his father to marry Lady Alice.

  Marius had always let his father believe that the king had suggested it.

  But that was not the truth.

  Alice had only been a means to the end and, perhaps in some small way, it had also been a way for Marius to earn approval from a father who had always been incapable of such emotion. At least, Marius had always thought so.

  It seemed that the de Wrenville son had some secrets of his own.

  “He most certainly would not grant Hawkstone to anyone but us,” Marius said, eyeing Hallam and Kevin. “Get out, both of you. That woman had better be found or you’ll both be in for trouble.”

  Hallam had heard that before. Marius threatened a good deal, but it was rare when he carried through. But Kevin, surprisingly, actually snorted.

  “You have no power over me,” he said to Marius. “If I were you, I would sit down and wait. It may take some time, but she will be found.”

  Marius’ eyes narrowed at him. “And just who are you? I do not even know you.”

  Before Covington could explain the situation, Kevin spoke loudly enough to drown out the father as he tried.

  “My name is Sir Kevin de Lara,” he said. “Aye, that de Lara. My father is Lord of the Trilateral Castles, which are not far from here, and you know my brother. He is the Lord of the Shadows, the king’s personal bodyguard.”

  Marius did, indeed, know that name. Sean de Lara. That suddenly gave Kevin a whole new light in his eyes. “So your brother is the Shadow Lord, is he?” he said, a hint of approval in his tone. “The man is fearsome. Absolutely fearsome. But he serves the king. Whom do you serve?”