Their previous intimate moments had been brief, and done through a weakness of will, an overwhelming need against his resolve. This passion now was born of victory. She would be his wife.
She parted her lips and stroked his tongue with hers. Her hands slid up his back and fit him more snuggly against her.
He knew they ought to cease such intimacies until they were wed but could not bring himself to pull away. Not when she was finally his after a lifetime of loving her.
Her hands skimmed over his arms, avoiding his wounded shoulder, caressing him through his clothing, as he did with her. He ran his hands over the sides of her kirtle and wondered at the smoothness of her skin beneath.
A desperate, ravenous side of him wanted to pull open the ties at her back and peel away her gown. His cock ached for her, to experience the bliss of being sheathed inside her body, as close to her as it was possible to be. Two hearts, two bodies, becoming one.
It wasn’t until she moaned into his mouth that he realized he had cupped her bottom to fit their pelvises together. The pressure of her body against the heat of his straining arousal was nearly more than he could bear, torture of the most enticing kind.
How he longed to give into the lust racing through his body. It had kept him up many nights as he thought of Cat; of this very moment. But his conscience now gave him pause.
Gawain had taken her by force that horrible night. Then, he’d attacked her only an hour prior. And though she’d agreed to be Geordie’s wife, she was not yet in name. There was also a life growing within her womb.
Each of those three thoughts on their own could stay his longing. The three together nearly propelled him from her.
“Forgive me, Cat.” He released her and ran a hand through his hair to tame the blaze of his lust. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I kissed you.” The fire crackled behind him, the only sound in the room even as she stepped silently closer to him. The glow of the fire cast her in red gold light and shone off the braids coiled down either side of her face.
“I shouldn’t have touched you,” he said. “I shouldn’t have pulled you so close to me like that.”
She stepped in front of him. “I wanted you to.”
He almost groaned at such words. “I’m not like Gawain.” It was as much a reminder to himself as it was to her. “I can wait until we are wed.”
“What if…” Cat pressed her lips together. “What if I do not wish to?”
Geordie swallowed. “You mean…?”
“Stay with me, Geordie.” She ran trembling fingers over his chest. “Love me.”
He gently brushed a finger across her cheek, beneath the reddened mark where Gawain had struck her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’ve been hurt.” Pain sparkled in the depths of her sapphire eyes. “But each time you kiss me, every touch of your lips, every caress, you wipe away sorrow with something good and wonderful. It makes the ache heal in a way I never thought possible.”
She put her hand to his chest, over the thundering of his heartbeat.
“I’ve been ashamed for so long,” she whispered. “You made me feel wanted when most would have thrown me away. You lessened my burdens with your love.”
Her words pierced his heart in the most tender of places. A stubborn tightening lodged itself in his throat, one borne of visceral understanding. For that was how he’d felt about her. So long unwanted by his own family, cast aside to die. When no one else had cared how his fate unfolded, Cat had been there. Not only to save his life, but also his spirit.
He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her and the whole of both their pain all at once. Separate, they were broken, unwanted. Together they would be mended, cherished.
“Love me, Geordie,” Cat whispered. “Love me and take me away from all this.”
He drew a long, slow breath to steel himself for his own admission. The perfumed scent of roses in her hair teased playfully at him. “You must know, Cat.”
She shifted her head to gaze up at him.
His cheeks went hot with his admission. “I have never lain with a woman.”
21
Cat’s entire body flushed at Geordie’s confession. He had not lain with a woman.
Cat had been in battle. She knew how women welcomed the return of soldiers who defended them, the pretty villagers making their interest known, and the men all too eager to accept their affections. And Geordie was no aging man with a soft stomach and thinning hair.
Nay, he was beautiful with his strong jaw and sensual mouth, his eyes filled with the emotion of his heart. Women would want a man like him. Women did want a man like him. She’d seen it firsthand at court as he moved through the room with so many sets of feminine eyes fixed on him, glittering with interest.
And yet never, in four years on campaign, had he lain with a woman. Cat shook her head in disbelief. “How?”
Geordie locked his gaze on her. “You’ve always been the woman for me, Cat. No other could ever compare with you.”
She sucked in a pained breath, wanting any answer but the one he gave. “But I—”
He put his finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “I only tell you because I may be lacking in experience.” His cheeks tinged with a slight blush in that endearing way she’d always loved.
“Then we will learn together,” she said finally.
His face relaxed into a soft smile. “I’d like that.”
Cat reached up to her bound hair and pulled free the pins holding the braids in place. They fell one by one like heavy ropes. She didn’t want to come to him as a woman of court with her ornate hairstyle and stiff clothing. She wanted to be unbound, with her heart open, as though it could return her to the woman she’d been before she’d ever come to court, before she’d ever met Sir Gawain. Innocent, slightly naïve, ready to believe in the idea of love.
Her fingers worked through the plait, combing it out and leaving her hair crinkled with waves from where the strands had been twisted against one another. Geordie took the other braid and slid his fingers through it, mirroring Cat’s movements. The subtle rose fragrance of her bathing oil surrounded her in a gentle, perfumed cloud.
Geordie’s nostrils flared slightly as he drew in a slow inhale. “You always smell so good.”
Cat went warm with the compliment.
He ran his fingers through her tresses. “I love your hair free like this.”
“I know.” She swept a length of her liberated tresses behind her shoulder.
His fingers eased to the nape of her neck. “If you wish me to stop, you need only say the word.”
His featherlight touch swept over the sensitive skin of her throat like a whisper and left her skin tingling in its wake. She sucked in a breath of pleasure from the simple, thrilling touch.
“I know,” she said again.
The affection in his eyes brightened and his gaze ran down her with interest. He made a quiet groan in his throat. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I love you with the whole of my heart. And now I will love you with the whole of my body.”
He kissed her then, not with the charged energy of their shared attraction, but with slow, purposeful strokes of his tongue against hers. As if he meant to take his time, savoring and cherishing every moment.
A true lover.
Nervous excitement raced in Cat’s veins and left her hands shaking as she put her fingers to work at the first button of his doublet. She remembered all too clearly how his warm, taut skin felt under her hands, rippled with muscles and masculinity. She wanted to touch him again. All of him this time. Without having to stop.
Three buttons down, a light tug came from the back of her kirtle. Geordie regarded her carefully, as though wanting to confirm what he did was with her permission. She nodded.
They kissed one another as their fingers blindly worked to disrobe one another, as the laces pulled free behind her and his buttons popped open by her trembling ha
nds. Cat finished first with Geordie’s doublet and pushed it down over his shoulders, mindful of the one she knew had been injured. He wore only a quality linen shirt beneath. She grasped the hem and tugged it upward, over his head. He released her for the scant moment it took to divest himself of the garment.
A little hum of appreciation rose unbidden in Cat’s throat. He was even stronger than she remembered, his body etched with harder lines, deeper valleys, smooth flesh turned golden by the firelight, with silver-white flecks of scars. White dots from her careful stitching showed over skin that was already healing, the blue thread cut away by now. She dragged her hand over his chest with a breathy moan, tracing such soft skin and powerful muscle. Desire thrummed in her veins and echoed the desperate beat between her legs.
She was so consumed by the sight of him that she scarcely noticed when he pushed her kirtle from her shoulders. Its weight slipped free and whispered to the floor at her feet. She wore only her chemise now, a flimsy, insignificant bit of fabric separating Geordie from her nakedness.
A wave of self-consciousness rolled over her. In the last few weeks, the small bump of her unborn babe had started to round out her stomach, and her nipples had gone from a delicate pink to a rosier, darker hue.
He hadn’t lain with any woman, but he had no doubt seen one naked at some point and would know her body was different.
She bit her lip. He was perfect and she…she was in skin that no longer felt like her own. His fingers grasped the tie at her neckline and gently pulled. Cat’s hands moved of their own volition, crossing over her stomach.
“I’m different now.” Embarrassment burned through her, hotter even than her lust. “I…I mean, I look different.”
“I haven’t anything to compare it to.” Geordie gave a sheepish smile.
The tension relaxed from her shoulders. She took a deep breath and drew the chemise over her head. Her heart raced in her chest, fearful and nervous. However, once the linen was over her head and she could see Geordie’s face, all traces of trepidation dissipated.
He regarded her with awe, uttering an oath, a word she had never heard him use before. Not her just and moral Geordie.
That she could bring him to such a state of mind empowered her. With that one small word, he made her feel beautiful without telling her she was. He lifted his hand and traced the line of her collarbone. Cat sucked in a breath and closed her eyes against the caress. A shiver of pleasure teased over her skin.
His exploration trailed lower, his careful touch so soft, it almost tickled. He grazed the outside of her breast before cupping it in his warm palm, pressing her sensitive nipple. Cat opened her eyes at the wonderful sensation.
Geordie groaned and pulled her into his arms once more, his naked torso pressing to hers as their mouths met and their hands explored. His fingers traced over every curve of her body, first circling her nipples before growing bolder and dipping lower to her inner thighs.
Her knees nearly gave out when at last his fingertips swept between her legs. The heat there went hotter, the pounding of desire grew more insistent. Her thighs parted, opening to him, wanting him in a way she had not known she could want a man.
And he did not disappoint.
Geordie’s cock was impossibly hard, as though it was about to explode. He traced the line of Cat’s sex with his middle finger, gliding through her wetness and groaning with anticipation.
Her eyes closed and she gave a long, slow exhale. Had anything been more desirable than Catriona Barrington as he loved her with his hand?
He probed lightly inside her, where she was wet and hot. He breathed faster. Cat grabbed his arm and clung to him, her thighs widening to give him better access to what they both wanted. He eased his finger from her and lightly ran it over the little nub he found at the front of her sex, exactly where he’d overheard his fellow knights mention it would be.
And her reaction was what they’d boasted, as well.
She cried out, a breathy, hoarse sound between a whimper and a moan that made his cock strain against his trews.
He hadn’t told the men he’d never lain with a woman to get such information. He never needed to. They spoke of it every time they were on campaign, as soon as several tankards of ale had been consumed. And though uncomfortable, Geordie had noted every detail and was grateful for that knowledge now.
With his free hand, he cupped the weight of one of her breasts. Her nipples were dark against her alabaster skin, the buds hard with need. Beautiful. She was beautiful. All of her. Beyond what he had imagined.
Smooth skin, long, lean limbs, the sensual blonde hair between her thighs. He circled his finger over the responsive little bud of her sex and her hand dug into his shoulder where she gripped him. If he kept going thus, he would make her release.
He ran his thumb over her nipple while his other hand continued to stroke her sex. He bent over her and took the pert nipple between his lips. The tip was firm in his mouth and went harder still when he flicked his tongue over it.
She gasped his name and swayed slightly.
Was she close? He was unsure how to tell, and for the first time, begrudged his inexperience. She staggered and he quickly straightened, catching her with the hand he’d used on her breasts. He paused in his ministrations.
Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her expression sensual in the haze of her pleasure. “Kiss me.”
He immediately complied, parting his mouth over hers. She moaned against him and played her tongue over his in a tease of lust. Her hips ground against his hand.
He kept one arm locked around her to keep her upright while he rubbed at the peak of her pleasure, that place the other knights had said would unlock a woman’s greatest desires. Cat’s breathing quickened and the muscles of her body tensed.
Before he could wonder if this was her climax, she cried out and her sheath clenched repeatedly. Victory rushed through his veins.
He had brought her to release. All the battles he had won, all the feats he had accomplished in his life, never had they felt more glorious than this moment in pleasing Cat. He grinned.
Cat slowly opened her eyes. “That was…” She didn’t finish, but instead released her breath. Her gaze slid down his torso to where his arousal left an obvious bulge in his trews. “Only the beginning?” Her lips lifted at the corners.
He took her hand and gently guided it to his waist to allow her to remove what remained of his clothing. If she undressed him, she would have control over the situation, to see and touch as much as she was comfortable doing. To move at her own pace. He would never have anything forced on her or rushed beyond her wishes.
She ran her hands over his body in sweet torment, stroking over his chest, his stomach, lower. Heaven help him, lower still. She traced the outline of his arousal over his trews before cupping him with her small palm. He gritted his teeth.
It had been far too long since he’d brought himself to relief and now, he paid for it with aching stones. She gently tugged at one of the ties and the corner of the flap jutted out beneath the pressure of his erection. The second one of the four ties was all that was needed for his arousal to spring free.
Cat’s eyes widened.
“’Tis not always so big,” Geordie ground out. “Only when…”
She nodded and caught her lower lip in her teeth. Her fingers brushed over the length of his shaft. Light enough to nearly make him growl in frustration.
He swallowed his impatience. He had waited four long years for this moment. Another few moments of maddening touches were inconsequential.
Regardless of what he told himself, her curious ministrations were driving him mad. The delicate graze of her fingers up and down over him; how she circled the head.
“You can hold it.” He panted for breath. “In your hand.”
She immediately settled her hand under the base and curled her fingers around him. Pleasure raked over his skin. He nodded. “Squeeze.”
The pressure around him intensified and his bollo
cks went tight. His body flinched with the overwhelming bliss of it.
Cat looked up at him. “Show me.”
Geordie nodded and put his hand over hers. Slowly, he guided her over his shaft, her hand like hot silk against the power of his desire. She did as he showed her, taking over on her own, gliding up and down over the impossible hardness of it.
Sweat prickled at his brow. “Enough.” He caught her wrist. “Please.”
Cat regarded him with flushed cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes. “I want you, Geordie.”
How long had Geordie dreamed of hearing those words? How many times had he fantasized about this while stretched out in a bedroll under a tent?
“I’ve wanted you for years.” He undid the last two ties of his trews and pushed the leather from his legs to the ground.
Cat slowly backed up, toward the bed. Her lithe body was graceful and lovely. Delicate lines of her strength showed beneath flawless skin made gold by the firelight. Her hair fell over her shoulders, parting over her firm breasts.
He followed her, focused entirely on her.
“And now we’ll both have each other.” She stopped just before the bed.
With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him. Her nakedness pressed completely to his body, all soft skin and curves. The heat of his arousal pressed to her lower stomach. A reminder he was taking great care with her.
Cat kissed a searing path from Geordie’s ear to his collarbone.
“Ella implied that intimacies while with child were quite enjoyable,” Cat said between kisses. “You needn’t worry about hurting the babe.”
“I worry also about hurting you.” Geordie ran his hands up her slender back, wrapping her fully in the protection of his arms.
Cat pulled back and regarded him with her wide blue eyes. “You would never hurt me.”
Before further argument could be brokered or fears spoken, her fingers skimmed down his abdomen and curled around his arousal. She pushed up on her toes and captured his mouth, her lips on his, her tongue sweeping against his, all of her needing all of him.
Catriona’s Secret Page 17