Drake’s Honor

by Martin, Madeline

  “Nay, I want ye to sleep here. With me.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, recalling the sensation of his mouth on hers. “I havena been able to stop thinking of ye.”

  His gaze flicked to her mouth, and his nostrils flared slightly. He knew exactly what she referred to.

  “I want ye to kiss me again,” she whispered. “Touch me again, make me come undone again—as ye did before.”

  He shook his head, tensing. “I dinna give ye the money for this—”

  “I know.” And she did. However, that he gifted her the money was part of the reason she was doing it. Not out of obligation, but out of appreciation for the man he was, out of gratitude that he saw beneath her façade. And she did it out of affection, for the way she couldn’t stop recalling his touch, his kiss. The way he had ignited her blood.

  The coin was a considerable sum, especially to someone who had nothing. And regardless of what his social standing might be now, for most of his life, he’d had nothing. He knew what he gave her and asked for nothing in return.

  Her chest warmed at such generosity—that someone would do something like that for her. Her heart, which had opened to no one but Mac, parted now for Drake.

  It was dangerous and thrilling and exciting. She wanted to fall headlong into this feeling and embrace it completely. With him.

  He shook his head again. “Ye dinna owe me—”

  “I know.” Then, she pushed up on her toes and kissed him, capturing his mouth with her own, teasing her tongue between his lips to allay any protest.

  She didn’t know what would happen to them after Mac was free. If anything could happen between them, or if their worlds were too far apart, too complicated to join together.

  What she did know was that she could have this night with him, which was more than she’d ever dreamed she’d want. She would not squander such a gift.

  The instant he succumbed to his longing for her was evident in how his muscles relaxed beneath her hands and his fingers threaded up into her hair, loosening her braid.

  “Greer.” He groaned her name and paused kissing her to study her face. “Ye’re so verra beautiful.”

  She gazed up into his eyes, lost in their dark depths. “Love me, Drake.”

  He kissed her again, this time taking possession of her as she had with him, branding her with the force of his desire. Greer’s blood ran hot in her veins and thundered with longing between her thighs, the memory of last night’s pleasure fresh in her mind.

  And she wanted more.

  Where Drake had been reserved previously, his actions now were sure. He cupped her bottom with a firm grip, fitting her pelvis against his with their layers of clothing between. Still, it was not enough to mask his hard prick. Never had she thought such a thing would ever be welcome.

  Now she knew exactly how welcome it could be, how it made her knees go weak, and her sex twitch in anticipation.

  His leg nudged between hers as he offered his strong thigh for her to stroke her body against. The sensation was exquisite and led to a breathy gasp from her lips, which he caught with eager, delicious kisses.

  Her hands roamed over his warrior’s body in an exploration of the carved ridges of his physique. She lifted the hem of his tunic, desperate for the heat of his skin beneath her palms. Distractedly, he yanked it over his head and tossed it to the floor, so only the thin leine he wore beneath separated his nakedness from her greedy touch.

  It was not enough.

  With a hungry whimper, she dragged the hem of the leine higher. At last, she jerked it from his torso, this time unveiling his glorious strength as she did so. The firelight played over his powerful frame, not hiding anything, each well-honed muscle flexing and shifting with the slightest movement. Truly, the man was a sight to behold.

  And it was only fair to return the favor. She set her fingers to the rough leather laces that bound her kirtle in place over her breasts and, as she watched him, slipped it free.

  * * *

  Drake couldn’t take his eyes off Greer as she tugged the ties of her kirtle, her bright green eyes fixed on him. The leather gave a little pop as it came undone, followed by the drag of the coarse ties through the homespun cloth. Her fingers were graceful as they moved over the lacing, unraveling it until the bodice began to gape open to reveal her white chemise beneath.

  The breath caught in his lungs as the garment loosened enough to expose her smooth shoulders, almost concealed beneath a curtain of her silky red hair. He should stop her, put an end to this before it could begin. But his blood was on fire, his cock solid as stone, his mind too hazy with lust.

  She swept both chemise and kirtle down her arms, baring her firm breasts and pink-tipped nipples. An ache clenched through him to drag his tongue over the taut buds once more, to make her cry out.

  Lower the garment went, revealing her narrow waist and the divot of her small navel, then down even farther over the swell of her hips to reveal a triangle of red hair above slender, perfect thighs. The kirtle fell away, and she straightened, naked and indescribably beautiful with her skin gleaming like a pearl in the candlelight.

  Drake let a rare curse slip from under his breath.

  Warm color spread over Greer’s cheeks as she stepped over her discarded clothes and reached for him. “I’ve no’ ever heard ye say that word before.”

  His gaze skimmed over her once more as she gracefully stepped closer, her body lithe and sensual. “I’ve no’ ever seen a goddess undress before.”

  “No one has called me a goddess before.” Her arms slid over his shoulders and curled around the back of his neck, so her breasts stretched higher on her chest. Chills skittered over his skin, so delightful he nearly groaned.

  “The world is full of fools.” He enfolded his arms around her, caressing her silky, cool skin and drew her against him. Her breasts pressed to his chest, and her willowy form arched into him, to where his cock raged against his trews.

  A low growl escaped him, and he lowered his face to hers to claim her lips. All the pent-up longing broke free at that moment, with their naked skin gliding against one another as their kisses became deeper, more frantic. Their hands roamed over one another’s bodies as they learned each other’s exquisite shapes.

  Her fingernails skimmed over his skin in her exploration, sending fresh waves of goosebumps while her mouth eased down his throat to his earlobe that she caught gently in her teeth, sending a huff of her warm breath against his ear. His hands smoothed down her waist to the flare of her hips, which he fit against his pelvis, so the friction of their grinding bodies teased them both with every undulation.

  Drake kissed down the column of her throat, trailing lower to her breasts. Greer tossed her head back with a gasp and arched her torso toward him, her nipples already rosy and tight with desire. He caught one bud in his mouth and flicked his tongue against it in a way that made her writhe in his arms.

  His fingers descended beyond her delicate navel to the thatch of hair. Her breath came faster as she read his intent. He glided a fingertip along the seam of her sex, and her knees buckled, causing her nearly to collapse.

  In a single motion, he swept her into his arms, carried her to the bed and nudged aside the heavy curtain with his elbow. He lowered her gently to the bed and crawled over her. Her chest rose and fell with her lusty pants as she watched him, her eyes bright with anticipation and lust.

  He kissed her mouth first, enjoying her with his lips and tongue—as he intended to do with the whole of her body. She tried to rise onto her elbows to deepen their kiss, but he shifted downward, pressing his lips to the column of her graceful throat, and tracing the line of her collarbone with the tip of his tongue.

  She sucked in a breath and began to lie back as his mouth descended to her breasts once more, and his hand glided over her sex. Her legs parting to give him better access as he probed her lightly with his finger while his tongue teased over her nipple. She whimpered with little cries of pleasure, each one encouraging his hard coc
k that now strained with such force against his trews, he thought he might go mad with wanting.

  “Please, Drake,” she gasped. “I want ye.”

  I want ye.

  The words were an invitation to heaven. One he ought to decline. If he were as good and honorable as he tried to be, he would satisfy her with his hands, then cradle her in his arms as they slept.

  But hadn’t he been good and honorable long enough?

  Could he not take this one thing he wanted, this woman who did something to his heart as much as she did something to his body?

  Before he could find the words to protest, he shifted off the mattress and tugged at the ties of his trews. His cock burst free, jutting out with a readiness he could not hide.

  Greer squirmed on the bed, rubbing her thighs against one another in anticipation. Drake shoved his trews down his legs and approached the bed.

  She lay there on the mattress with her auburn hair shimmering against the deep crimson coverlet, her eyes bright with longing, her cheeks flushed. God, she was beautiful.

  His.

  Aye, he wanted to make her his.

  He moved over the top of her, and she spread her legs, shifting beneath him so his erection clumsily bumped against her sex. Bracing himself on one arm, he took his cock in hand, angling it toward her center.

  And hesitated.

  This was the one moment where he could stop. Where he could do the right thing.

  But he did not.

  He plunged into her in a single thrust, burying the pulsing force of his prick into her tight, wet sheath. Her grip on his phallus was far too intense, and her body went rigid, her eyes wide with surprise.

  God, he’d hurt her. But he didn’t understand…

  She blinked up at him, tears in her eyes. “Forgive me.”

  Understanding dawned and in that instant, he realized the depth of what he had done. What his lust had cost her.

  “Greer,” he said raggedly. “Ye’re a…”

  A tear ran from her eye. “Was. A maiden, aye.”

  14

  There were many reasons Greer had not wanted to tell Drake she was a maiden prior to their joining. Even still, in this moment when he remained frozen over her—his body locked and rigid, his gaze wounded—she regretted her omission.

  He tried to pull away, but she held onto him regardless of the way the small movement stung at her center. “Dinna go,” she begged.

  He shook his head, his eyes haunted. “I shouldna have…”

  “Ye dinna know.” She curled her legs around his waist to secure their bodies together more firmly. “And ’tis already done.”

  “I hurt ye.” He caressed her face. “If I’d have known…”

  “If ye’d have known, ye’d no’ have had me at all.” It was one of the reasons she hadn’t told him.

  He didn’t reply, which she took as confirmation that she was correct.

  “’Tis already done,” she said again.

  His brow furrowed, his expression anguished.

  She shifted her hips upward, nudging their joined bodies together. There was some discomfort in doing so, but she knew it would pass. Peasants didn’t soften stark truths by bandying about niceties the way nobles did. Greer knew well what to expect when she lost her maidenhead. And Drake was the man she wanted to give it to.

  He was the only man she would ever deem worthy, the only one who would likely be kind about the process.

  “I wanted it to be ye.” She searched his gaze. “Ye’re the only man who has ever looked at me with respect, the only man I—” She was saying too much. Instead, she shifted against him despite the additional pinch around the foreign feel of him inside her. “Touch me, please.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw, but he ran his hand lightly down her body, leaving a wake of pleasant chills in his path as he found the little bud nestled in her sex where their bodies joined. The contact was as a flash of lightning to her system, instantaneous and thrilling.

  “Aye,” she whispered. “Like that.”

  She moved under him as he brought fire back into her blood with his ministrations, and as the seconds passed, the soreness gave way to the first tingles of pleasure. A gasp passed through her lips with surprise and delight.

  Drake’s fierce expression relaxed somewhat, and he carefully drew his hips back as his finger circled over the highly sensitive nub. A tease of friction rippled wonderfully through her. She leaned her head back with a moan.

  It was then he truly began to love her, first with careful flexes of his pelvis until they were both groaning with restraint and then with hard, aggressive thrusts. Greer held onto him while the maddening flickering touch of his finger worked over her as he pushed within her.

  Suddenly, it was more than she could take. The tightening in her body snapped, and she cried out at the exquisite waves that swept over her. Her release was magnified from what it had been before, her pleasure continuing to climb as Drake’s pumping increased in speed until, at last, he jerked against her. He ground out a roar, and every muscle flexed in an appealing show of strength and lost control as his release overtook him.

  His cock spasmed inside her as he spilled his seed and clung to her, his heart thundering against her own. The pleasure of his climax within her left Greer gasping with the enormity of her fulfillment.

  They remained clasped in one another’s arms, staring into each other’s eyes in wonder as their breath calmed and their erratic pulses slowed to a steady rhythm.

  Drake’s dark eyes were fathomless, something Greer felt herself tipping into, eager to lose herself in it forever. Her body was languid from the force of their loving, and her mind was more at peace than she could ever recall it having been before. She wanted to stay in this moment for the rest of her life, where she was loved, where she was happy, where she was safe.

  But she couldn’t. Not when Mac was still in the bowels of the castle.

  The realization was like a splash of cold water.

  Drake pressed a kiss to her lips. “Marry me, Greer.”

  She stared up at him incredulously. “Do ye jest?”

  He withdrew from her and lay at her side. “Nay. I want ye to be my wife.”

  Her confusion at the sudden question was short-lived when she remembered who this man was at his core—one of chivalry and honor. And she was the maiden he had deflowered.

  “Ye dinna have to do that.” Heat scorched her cheeks.

  “I want to.” He didn’t say it with vehemence, as if a man agreeing to a mission. He said it tenderly, like a lover. Like a man who meant every word.

  Her heart crumpled in on itself.

  It was so tempting at that moment to agree to his request, to imagine herself on his arm, dressed in a fine gown, visiting the nursery in their manor filled with bairns. All their bellies full, and their hearts light—together.

  “My da is dead,” she said. “Ye’ve no angry father to come after ye.” She meant it as a joke, but it fell flat in the quiet room.

  Because she wanted to agree, to live the life she envisioned in her mind. Free from hunger and fear and loneliness. But she couldn’t. At least not yet. Not until she had rescued Mac.

  Unease knotted in her stomach and warned her it might not be as easy as she anticipated. She hoped it was just fear affecting her thus. And how could she not be afraid with so much at stake?

  “Ye dinna need to tell me yer answer now,” Drake said quickly. “Think about it and give me yer answer, aye?”

  Greer nodded. Hopefully, by the time he asked again, Mac would be home, and she could explain everything without fear of losing her opportunity to save her brother.

  Drake drew her into his arms and held her against him, embracing her in warmth and strength. She savored the safety there in his embrace, with the leather and spice of him mingling with the sensual aroma of their loving. Exhaustion pulled at her, promising a sweet and blissful sleep.

  But she had to slip out tonight to find the guard.

  She
remained where she lay long after Drake’s even breathing told her he was asleep. Staying awake had been torture when she wanted nothing more than to melt against him but holding sleep at bay was necessary. If she gave way to slumber, she wouldn’t wake until daylight touched the room.

  Nay, Mac would not spend another night in the dungeon.

  She regrettably withdrew herself from Drake’s arms and silently pulled her clothes on, her gaze fixed on him to ensure he did not rouse. He looked young with his face so tranquil in slumber, the hard lines of the life he’d endured softened by sleep. It made her ache to climb across the mattress and kiss his sleep-warmed lips.

  Heart heavy, she quietly took up the purse he’d given her with the fifty marks and slipped out the door.

  * * *

  A whistled tune broke through Drake’s sleep. He’d slept deep enough that he wished to linger a little longer. The bed was soft and comfortable, and he was not due to watch the castle’s guards train until noon that day.

  He rolled to his side, his hands reaching before his mind even recalled why.

  Greer.

  He peeked an eye open but didn’t see her lying at his side. The night before played back vividly in his mind. Every detail, sensual and tender alike.

  He had asked her to marry him. Contentment warmed his chest.

  He had asked her to marry him.

  Granted, she hadn’t agreed to wed him, but he’d allowed her time to think about it, lest he frighten her off like a skittish deer. The whistling in the room continued.

  “I dinna think ye’d be up so verra early.” He finally opened his eyes and grinned as he pushed himself onto his forearms.

  Bean grinned at him and gave him a cheerful wave. “Good morrow, Master Fletcher. I actually slept a mite later than usual. The door appeared locked last night.” He turned to the heavy wooden door of the bedchamber with a slight frown. “But then when I checked back later, it wasn’t. Mayhap it was stuck.” He shrugged without concern. “I dinna get to bed until late as a result.”