She couldn’t have moved if she had wished. She could only look up at him as he stepped closer. She felt caught, fascinated, unable to think.
His soapy hands closed on her breasts.
She jerked with shock and his grasp tightened. “No, not again,” he muttered. “You don’t leave me again.”
“I wasn’t … trying to get away.”
“Good. Because it’s not going to happen. Never again.” His hands moved over her breasts, gently pinching the nipples. “Do you know how I felt in the forest last night expecting in a minute to find you lying dead on the trail?” He drew her into the shallows, where the water was only up to her calves. “Spread your legs.” His soapy hands delved low and began to rub the lather into her.
She arched backward at the indescribable sensation that shot through her. “What … are you doing?”
“Easing you.” Two fingers gently entered and began a rhythmic stroking. “I’m a big man. I don’t want to hurt you.”
How odd, she thought dazedly. Delmas had never cared if he hurt her as long as his own lust was sated.
Gage’s other hand was still probing, his thumb rotating as he found …
“No!” she cried out and clutched at his shoulders.
He stopped. “I hurt you?”
The sensation was so intense, it had felt like pain, but now she realized chat pressure had engendered not pain but a hot throbbing and a terrible emptiness. “I—don’t think—so …”
“Good, for I can wait no longer.” His big hands cupped her buttocks and he lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me.”
“Why do you—”
He plunged deep!
She gave a low cry and clutched at him with thighs and hands as his hips bucked back and forth and his big palms held her sealed to him. She felt stretched, part of him. She had not known men took women in this fashion, she thought dazedly. Perhaps they didn’t. Only a man of Gage’s enormous strength could—
“Move,” he said jerkily in her ear. “Come to me, give to me …”
She was already moving, giving him the rhythm he demanded. She wanted to be closer, she had to be closer.
He was wading ashore, holding her tight as she moved frantically against him. She had seen animals mating in the forest with this same urgency. She was not an animal.…
But she had to move, she had to give.…
She was on her back on the leaves on the bank and he was a massive form over her.
In. Out. Long. Short. The sky was a blur of blue beyond his shoulder, and with every sobbing breath she took in the rich scent of earth and pine and soap. The sound of dry leaves rustling beneath their bodies was as sensual as his harsh breathing in her ear. He was not content to take, making her give everything.
It was not fair, she thought wildly. He was absorbing her as he had said he wanted to do. She did not want to feel this.
“Give it to me!” His tone was guttural. “Don’t fight me. You’re holding back.”
What did he want? She couldn’t give more than she was.
She screamed as he proved her wrong. Her back arched upward as her body was racked by the release.
She lay there panting, shuddering as the incredible spasms tore through her.
“Yes, that’s what I want.” His smile was savage as he moved harder, faster. He stiffened and then groaned and fell forward over her body.
He had given her his seed, she realized. How strange she was feeling no revulsion. The need was gone but the peace that followed was like a warm, soothing balm. It had never been like this before. Her arms instinctively tightened about Gage’s massive shoulders.
He lifted his head and looked down at her. A lock of dark hair was lying on his forehead and he was laboring with every breath. “Sacrebleu, what did you do to me?”
She didn’t know what he meant. His words made no sense, when it was he who had instigated this incredible joining. “Nothing.” Her voice was so faint, it was almost inaudible. Where was the boldness and authority she had hoped to retain in this situation?
“The hell you didn’t.” His arms tightened around her and he rolled over on his side, still keeping her joined to him. The action shocked her. Delmas had always taken his pleasure and then left her alone. She felt chained, possessed, as much a part of his big body as during the act itself.
“I … wish to leave you,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“It is not … fitting.”
He chuckled. “I disagree. Since you’re so delightfully tight, it’s a bit snug, but I fit very well.”
Heat stung her cheeks. “And such low talk is not fitting either. Is this how Normans conduct their …” She trailed off, as she couldn’t find the word for what had transpired between them. It was not coupling as she knew it.
He leaned down and ran his tongue over her nipple and then made a face. “You still taste of soap. I fear I did not rinse you thoroughly. Not surprising. I almost took you while you were waist-deep in water.”
How would that have felt? The cool water and him hot and hard within her …
He nibbled at a suddenly taut nipple. “I see you like the idea. Shall we go back into the pond?”
Sweet heaven, her body was changing, readying. What was happening to her? “No!” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides so that she would not bring them up to his hair. “Let me go. You’ve been compensated enough.”
He stiffened. “Have I?” He slowly lifted his head and looked down at her. “I don’t think so. I’m a man who requires great quantities of compensation.” He deliberately reached around and cupped her buttocks in his hands and drew her closer. “Thank you for reminding me that I needn’t worry about overusing you. I admit for a moment I forgot what the terms of our arrangement were.” His hands opened and closed on the soft flesh. “All of this compensation for Redfern. You must wish to go there very much.”
“Yes.”
“And tell me, did that handsome young wastrel tell you that you should convince me to bring you back to Redfern?” He spoke in an almost idle manner, but there was an underlying menace that filled her with uneasiness.
“That wasn’t the reason I—”
“Ah, so he did.” He gently pinched her buttock. “Such a clever fellow to use a woman to further his aims. You must have gotten very used to obeying his commands to be so willing to pleasure me.” His silky tone hardened. “I hope you weren’t disappointed. You clearly prefer golden boys who use you to whore for them.”
She should not have felt this hurt when it was what she had wanted him to think. “Let me go.”
“I told you, I’m not through yet.” He suddenly turned on his back and lifted her on top of him. “You should be aware of that by now.”
He was stirring within her, she realized with astonishment. “Again?”
“You appear surprised.” He reached up to cup her breasts. “It appears Saxons have little to boast about in their virility.”
“What are you doing? This position feels … most strange.”
“It won’t for long.” He pulled her hair over her shoulders and wound it around her breasts. “Another first? Good. I know I should appreciate any little tricks you’ve learned but, for some reason, the idea of you in bed with another man displeases me.”
“I know no tricks.”
“Perhaps no obvious ones.” His smile faded and his expression became grim. “But a woman’s pleasure is stirring enough, and you have a definite appetite for the sport. So don’t show me anything anyone has taught you.” His hips bucked upward in rhythm with each word. “I want you to pretend you’re as without knowledge as Eve in the garden.”
It would be an easy task, she thought hazily as she gripped his shoulders. Lust was new to her. All of this was new—hunger, need, pleasure. She bit her lower lip as he began to lift her with each thrust, to send her toward that explosive release she had known before. It was strange that violent pleasure and sweet healing could come from the same act. Dear God, sh
e was enjoying it too much. Surely only whores liked men to do these things to them.
It was only because it was Gage Dumont. A man of such power would naturally generate deep feelings. She had never been tempted to taste this pleasure with anyone else. When they parted she would regain her cool dislike of coupling. When he was gone …
The thought brought an odd, hurtful wrench that surprised and frightened her. She cared nothing for him, she assured herself quickly. She would use him as he used her and—
“Stop it!”
She looked down at him.
A fierce scowl twisted his face. “Think of me,” he said roughly. “Only me, damn you.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.” He thrust deep, quickening the rhythm. “But not anymore.”
Her throat arched as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.
It might be a carnal weakness, but she would be a fool to push away this pleasure when her reason for accepting the Norman was just and right.
She was not a fool.
They did not go back to camp until nearly dusk and the evening fires were being lit on the hillside.
Brynn frowned as sudden anxiety struck. “I should not have left him so long.”
“Malik? I made sure he was well cared for.”
“But it was my duty.” And she had violated that duty, she thought with disgust. She had lingered all afternoon, coupling time after time like an animal in season. Why had she not protested? “I should have been with him.”
“You said he was in no danger.” A trace of impatience threaded Gage’s tone. “And may I point out that I was the one who brought you here to heal him and I’m the one who defines your duties.”
She glanced at him in surprise. “It’s true you had me brought here but when you gave him to me, your part was over. You cannot tell me not to heal or what my duties are. Only I can decide what is necessary now.” But today she had weighed Adwen’s good in the balance and let her responsibility to Malik slide. Dear heaven, it was difficult to serve everyone’s needs. “When do we leave for Redfern?”
She was aware of a slight stiffening in Gage’s demeanor. “Soon.”
“When?”
“Do you think I lied to you? I assure you, I always keep to the terms of my barter.”
“I don’t doubt you. When?”
He was silent and then said, “In two days’ time, if Malik is well enough to travel.”
“He’ll be well enough. We’ll go slowly.”
Gage’s lips twisted. “Where is all your concern for Malik’s well-being? It appears to be fading away in your eagerness to reach Redfern.”
“That’s not true,” she said fiercely. “But I must strike a balance.”
“What kind of balance?”
Malik against Adwen. Her duty was to both, but she feared Adwen’s need was now greater. But Gage did not know Adwen and was totally devoted to his friend. “You wouldn’t understand.”
He smiled bitterly. “Oh, I think I understand very well.”
His tone was so bitter, she glanced at him. Light and darkness. Power and strength. The rays of the setting sun dyed his hair raven black and yet his blue eyes held a brilliant luminosity. His expression looked softer. She had once thought him almost ugly, his features too brutal. Yet, even then when she could see no beauty, she had been aware of that aura of power that drew everyone to him. Whenever she had been in his presence she had been forced to struggle to keep from staring at him. He was exerting that same fascination at this moment, but now that she knew the textures of him, it was worse. She not only wanted to keep on looking, she wanted to reach out and touch the harsh plane of his cheek and—
She tore her gaze away from him and her steps quickened as they reached the edge of the camp.
Malik had already been taken into the tent and rabbit stew was bubbling over the small fire. LeFont was talking to a young soldier and looked up with a smile as Gage and Brynn approached.
“How is Malik?” Gage asked.
“Doing well, my lord. He had a good day. Very good. He felt well enough to indulge in a game of dice with me and a few of the others.” He grimaced. “He now owns my saddle. Though he’s graciously allowing me to use it until I can find the money to ransom it from him.”
“You didn’t tire him?” Brynn asked quickly.
LeFont shook his head. “We stopped as soon as he appeared weary. I would he had tired sooner. I might have ended the day a richer man.”
She should not have been away so long. What these strong soldiers considered wearying was not reliable. Brynn hurried into the tent.
Malik looked up with wide grin. “Good evening, Brynn. I now own a saddle, a silver-mounted bridle, and enough gold to—”
“So I heard.” His color was good, his dark eyes sparkling. He was probably overexcited, but perhaps the day of gambling had not done him any ill. He had reached the point when boredom dragged at the spirit, and that was not good for the body. She relaxed and smiled. “Perhaps tomorrow you can give LeFont a chance to win his saddle back.” She knelt beside him. “But I think I must be here to make sure that you don’t overdo.”
His smile faded as he said, “That’s not necessary. Not if Gage … requires you.” He paused before asking, “You did not fight him?”
Heat scorched her cheeks. She had expected Malik to realize what had transpired between Gage and her, but did not expect to feel this awkward … this owned. Gage was not even in the tent, and yet it was as if he were still inside her body. “No.”
“It went well? He did not harm you?”
“He didn’t hurt me.” She pushed aside the blanket and checked his bandage. “Did you expect him to?”
“No …” He shrugged. “He is not usually violent with women, but with you … It has been most unusual I am glad you decided to surrender.”
“I didn’t surrender,” she said, stung. “We came to terms.”
“Terms?”
“We start for Redfern in two days’ time.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll get your supper.”
“Brynn …” Malik shook his head. “I know that when you have little else in your life, the attentions of a handsome rascal like Richard of Redfern would seem attractive, but he is not worth this. Even if you go to Redfern, Gage will not permit you to return to his bed.”
“Return to—” Suddenly several of Gage’s obscure references to Richard began to become clear. “Richard told him that he had used me in that way?”
“With high praise for both your enthusiasm and your lewd skills.” Malik added gently, “So you can see that he is not worthy of the affection you bear him.”
She looked at him incredulously. “Affection?”
“No?” Malik’s gaze narrowed on her face. “If you don’t feel affection for him, why do you wish to return to Redfern?”
For an instant she was tempted to tell him of Adwen. Malik was kind and would understand.
But he would also feel obligated to tell Gage Dumont, and the Norman was a hard man. He might think she had dangled the treasure before him to draw him to Redfern only for Adwen’s sake. Let Gage believe she was fool enough to adore that monster. At the moment he appeared to have some feeling of possession for her, and his warrior’s instincts would lead him to march into Richard’s lair to banish any threat.
“I did not say I felt no affection for Lord Richard.” She left the tent and strode brusquely toward the fire where LeFont and Gage were still talking.
Gage glanced away from LeFont and raised his brows inquiringly.
“He’s well,” she said curtly. She added to LeFont as she filled a bowl from the steaming kettle, “And eager to see what other prizes he can win tomorrow. I think he has his eye on your horse, Captain.”
LeFont groaned. “I’ll be glad when he’s back on his feet. Though by that time, I may also be on mine.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “It’s entirely possible.”
The captain sketched a quick salute to Gage
and strolled away.
She could feel Gage’s eyes on her and felt a ripple of uneasiness. Every act, every word, seemed different now. She moved quickly toward the tent.
“Wait,” Gage muttered.
She didn’t look at him. “Malik is hungry.”
“Have I suddenly grown two heads? Why don’t you look at me?”
She forced herself to stare directly at him. Would she ever be able to behold him without remembering him crouched naked over her, the muscles of his stomach clenched as he moved frantically within her? She suddenly experienced a warm tingling between her thighs.
“Ah, that’s better,” he said softly. He reached out and touched her lips with his fingers. “Your mouth is swollen. I was too rough with you. I’ll try to be gentler next time.”
He had been rough. They had both been rough and desperate and insatiable. She had met his lust with a lust just as shameless, she thought with disgust. It was all very well to tell herself that it was all right to enjoy the act, but she must not be swept away and forget her purpose. She took a step back, turning her head to avoid his touch. “I didn’t expect you to be gentle with me. You must do as you will.”
The softness vanished from his expression. “And you submit meekly and spread your legs no matter how much you detest it.” He reached out and grasped her shoulders. “Don’t lie to me. You were no martyr. I have claw marks on my shoulders to prove it.”
“I did not—” She stopped and wearily shook her head. She was dealing too much in deceit, and it was choking her. She would not lie in this. “I tried not to like it. I don’t know why I did. I couldn’t help myself.” She added haltingly, “I think perhaps you are not as other men.”
Surprise flickered in his expression. “And I know you’re not as other women. I’m not accustomed to such honesty.” His grasp loosened and then his hand fell away from her. “If it is honesty. It could be a ploy to flatter my self-love. It would be a clever move and you’re a very clever woman.”
“A woman must be clever or be used.” She moved toward the tent entrance. “And I don’t care what you believe.”
“As long as you get what you want from me.” He smiled sardonically. “You’re very free with your words. What if I change my mind about going to Redfern?”
Midnight Warrior Page 11