Seducing His Lady: Novella (Norfolk Knights Book 2)

by Saskia Knight

  He pulled his mouth from hers but their bodies continued to move against each other, their breathing coming hard now.

  “Melisende… I—”

  She brought her finger to his lips. “Hush. There’s nothing left to say. I want you.” She had no idea where her forward talk came from and did not question it. For it was as natural as breathing that he should be inside her.

  His lips curled into a slow, lascivious smile. “Where?” He touched the place that ached for him and she moaned. “Here?”

  She nodded, swallowing hard, fighting for a control that had been lost the minute he’d kissed her. She squirmed against the ministrations of his hand. “Galien! I cannot wait.”

  “You won’t have to wait. Because I want you more than anything else in my life.”

  “And I want to feel you inside me. I want to know you.”

  He nudged his cock against her quim and she gasped and tilted her hips to meet his. He guided her legs around him and with one small thrust pushed into her. She tensed at the pain and opened her eyes, suddenly nervous, but he pushed lightly, his fingers playing with that part of her that sent shivers coursing through her body. After she’d relaxed he pushed fully inside her with one, sleek swift movement.

  She winced and bit her lip. She closed her eyes, willing the pain away.

  He eased up and stroked the hair from her face. “Melisende, I’m sorry. Does it hurt much?”

  She opened her eyes. “A little.”

  He began to pull out but she kept her hands around his body, holding him still. Then he gently slid back and she sighed, feeling every small movement of him inside her, sending shivers of sensation throughout her body. There was no friction now, no pain, just an overwhelming awareness of how he filled her. All thought was suspended as he pushed into her and eased out, slowly, leisurely, watching her—his movements attuned to her own.

  With his body and hands and lips he caressed her, warmed her, reassured her, and slowly she grew in confidence and moved her hips to better accommodate him. It was his turn to close his eyes and groan as he eased out once more before pushing back inside her. And in that moment she knew things would never be the same again. He was inside all of her—inside her head, her heart and her body. She would always be his.

  She cried out his name and his rhythm changed to short, pulsing thrusts and she knew that her body was receiving his seed.

  As one, they rolled to their sides, entwined in each other arms, and lay on the soft fur of the cloak, the warm air fanning their hot skin. She spread her fingers over his chest, cupping the muscle, touching his nipple and then kissing it, just as he had hers, as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

  Neither spoke for long moments, yet she knew his thoughts. She could tell them from the touch of his fingers against her skin, from the feel of his lips against her hair, and the ragged sigh of his breath against her cheek.

  Part of her, when she’d decided to lie with him, had thought this would be the end, complete something begun in the priory and end it, here on the marshes. But as her heart beat slowed she realised that nothing had completed, it had only just begun.

  Chapter 11

  Galien lay awake all night, cradling Melisende in his arms as he looked up at the rough-thatched roof. He was alert to every shift of her slender limbs, every shiver that traced goose-bumps across her skin, every sigh as he pulled his cloak back over her body and she nestled into his arms once more. He watched the dreams chase across her flickering eyelids and wished he could see them, wished he could save her from the distress of the occasional whimper, wished he could hold her like this, in this place, forever.

  But, the moments passed. Just as their breaths mingled and rose into the bracken-thatched roof, the night disappeared in a collection of heartbeats that became one.

  As the grey light of dawn slowly exposed the shadowy corners and objects in the room, Galien breathed in the fragrance of her hair, a patch of brilliant blonde gleaming in the dull light. He felt suspended in some unreal place, on the edge of the world. Danger behind him, danger before him, but here, in the early morning light with this woman, he felt more threatened than ever before. His purpose was to avenge his family and Melisende threatened his purpose. When she was close he could think of nothing but the brilliance of her eyes, a blue as warm as the forget-me-nots that covered the woodland floor of his youth, hair as brilliant as moonlight, and a spirit so much bigger than her slight body, a body he couldn’t help reaching for.

  She sighed and stretched as his touch disturbed her. And in that moment, as she awoke beneath his touch, he knew that the danger had passed because he’d succumbed. The pressure of grief and responsibility to avenge his family had slid away, consumed by the love he felt for the woman in his arms. She’d taken away his shadows, just as the sun robs the night of its darkness. It suddenly became clear to him what he had to do. He kissed her cheek and brought her closer to him but, before he could speak, she’d rolled toward him, and her naked breasts were pressed against his chest, her lips close to his, her hips against his belly and her thighs… her thighs, soft around his hard cock.

  He groaned and she smiled, the most completely sensuous, enticing smile he’d ever seen in a woman. He dipped his head to hers and kissed her. “Good morn, sleepy lady.”

  “’Tis indeed good. And”—she shifted slightly and her thighs moved once more against him—“I’m not so sleepy now.” Her lips twisted into a shy smile.

  He laughed and brushed his lips against hers, trying to focus on his thoughts, rather than the way her body moved against his. “So I see.” And so he could also feel, but they needed to talk. The daylight was gaining strength with each passing minute.

  But another delicate shift of her hips was enough to break his control. He rolled her over until he was on top of her, his hips pinning her to the bed.

  He dipped his head and placed a kiss on each soft breast. She arched her back still further and he needed no further invitation. He took first one, then the other breast into his mouth, using his tongue gently to begin with. But as her breathing shortened, he suckled her nipples harder until they grew taut with need. All thought of doing anything with this woman other than making love, left his mind.

  His hands roamed over her body—from her flushed cheeks, her neck, her arms, slender yet strong, and her stomach and lower… She was wet for him and as his fingers gently slid against her, teasing her, she opened her legs.

  “Are you sure?” He murmured against her breasts.

  In answer, she reached down and took his cock in her hands and slid it against her quim. “I’m sure. I want you inside me, completely,” she whispered into his ear, as she slid her legs open wider still, until the head of his cock lay against her.

  He pushed slowly inside her, easing into her, knowing she could still be sore, but feeling her so wet that he knew that pleasure would soon overcome any discomfort.

  Her hands reached around him, tracing the curves of his muscles before descending to his bottom, which she gripped as if encouraging him to plunge harder into her. He obliged and was rewarded with a gasp, and a flutter of pale eyelids, the long lashes a charcoal crescent against her flushed cheeks. He withdrew slowly and just as her eyes were beginning to open once more, he plunged into her again. She gasped louder and gripped his behind tighter as he slowly withdrew. Again he thrust into her, mesmerized by the sight of her pale face, eyes closed, lips parted.

  He rubbed his thumb beneath her full lower lip and she opened her mouth further, as if trying to capture him, just as her body was capturing him, lower down. She flicked her tongue against his thumb and he dipped it into her mouth. Her lips closed around it briefly before she flung her head to one side as the panting gave way to moaning, which gave way to a shout of his name as he continued to thrust deep inside her, revelling in the silky caresses of her quim around his shaft.

  It was only when she opened her eyes and placed her hands either side of his face, holding him steady, looking deep
within him that he came—short, shallow thrusts within her, as their eyes held each other, deep within each other, just as their bodies were deep inside, connected, his seed given to her.

  He kissed her mouth, then her cheeks, her throat, before rolling to one side and pulling her to him.

  “Melisende.” He sighed. “Melisende. Your name is so beautiful, like a prayer.”

  Her cheek was pressed against his chest, as if she was listening to the steady thump of his heart as it slowed down from the frenzy to its normal steady beat. She kissed his chest and looked up at him with laughter in her eyes. “And what, Sir Galien, would your prayers ask for, I wonder? A comfortable bed? A shelter through which the morning breeze doesn’t blow?” He lifted a strand of her blonde hair up to the pale light, marvelling at its brilliance, and let it fall back down again. By the time he was ready to meet her gaze he knew that now was the time. Her smile fell in reaction to the look in his eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Everything is absolutely right. You must come with me, Melisende. For I cannot consider leaving you behind.”

  She rolled away, until he could see only her profile, as she gazed up to the roof through which the first soft blush of morning was entering. He reached out and brought her hand within his. He could feel a tension within her that hadn’t been there before. But there was no going back now, not on any level. The more he thought about her coming with him the more right it felt. He did not wait for her to speak.

  “Last night shouldn’t have happened, of course it shouldn’t—you, a maid, and me, a wanted man. But it did happen and I, for one, cannot regret it. I love you, Melisende and I cannot be without you.”

  She withdrew her hand from his and lay quietly for one moment before swinging her legs to the ground. She reached for her gown. He watched in silence as she dressed. He swallowed. She still said nothing.

  “I know I have nothing to give you,” he continued. “My life till this moment has been spent in the shadows. But that’s all changed now, changed since I met you.” He watched as she finished tying the laces at the sides of her dress, watched her as she opened the door and let in the fresh morning air. “Say something, Melisende.”

  But she stood stock still until he could bear it no longer. He rose and stood behind her, his hands running down the length of her arms before slipping around her slender waist. He followed her gaze out to the mudflats that lay to the north, stretched bloody in the red morning light.

  “I cannot come with you, Galien.”

  He closed his eyes as if he’d been struck and his hands stilled on her waist. “Why not?”

  “Because of something you told me when you first entered the priory. That you were a lone wolf, with no home, and would never have one. Galien, we’re different you and I. I need a home. The Abbess… My work at the hospital… It’s what I’ve wanted my whole life. It’s the only home I know. The only place I’ve ever felt safe enough to be myself.” She shook her head in emphasis. “I cannot leave. I simply cannot.”

  “Melisende. I can change. I’ll settle, make a home for us.”

  “And you’d be happy doing that?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think marrying me would make you very unhappy. You’d feel trapped, feel you’d let your family down, feel hatred instead of love for me.”

  “Do not tell me what would, or would not, make me happy!” He chewed his lip as he tried to rein in the flare of anger—fuelled, he knew, as much by fear that she may be right, as by frustration that she didn’t believe him.

  “I know that what you say is what you believe at this moment.”

  The anger dissipated at her quiet voice and became overwhelmed by a stronger fear—that he would leave this day and would never see her again. “I want you, Melisende. I want you beside me for the rest of my life. And I’ll do anything it takes to make that happen. That is what I believe; that is the truth.”

  For one long moment before she spoke, Galien thought he might have convinced her. But with the shake of her head, his heart fell. “I cannot go.”

  “You do not love me then.”

  But she didn’t have to speak for him to know he was wrong—the cloud of distress in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. “’Tis nothing to do with love. ’Tis to do with…”

  “Fear.” He finished her sentence that hung in the air searching for a truth he knew she could not acknowledge. He cupped her face in his hands and shook his head, trying to fathom why she could deny something that was blindingly obvious to him. He turned her in his arms so she was facing the horizon once more. “Look out there. That’s where you belong, with me, out in the world, living, free. Not hidden away in the priory.”

  “Galien, don’t you see? The priory is freedom to me. I can think there, I can practice medicine there, I can study and learn and live there. I cannot do those things as a wife.”

  “You can, as my wife.” He turned her and kissed her gently. But he felt her stiffen in his arms and he drew away.

  “I cannot.”

  An icy cold determination gripped him. He would not lose her. “Then I shall stay. ’Tis clear. If you will not come with me, then I shall stay.”

  She jerked her head to his, panic in her eyes. “No! You cannot. You will be hunted down and killed by the King. You know he has no forgiveness in him, no mercy. ’Twould be a death sentence.”

  He shook his head. “The only death sentence for me would be to lose you. And that, I cannot do.” He brought her close to him, clasped her head against his chest, intent on removing the panic and fear in her eyes, desperate to bring her as close to his heart as possible. “Melisende,” he whispered against her hair as he kissed her. It was only when he fanned his hands over her back that he felt the telltale shudder of tears. He pulled her away and held her face up to his. “Melisende,” he repeated.

  She shook her head, unable to speak at first, as tears fell from her face. “I never thought,” she gulped, “to feel like this.”

  “Well accept it, for I do.” She stepped away, taking deep breaths as she tried to calm herself. He placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her there, not wanting her to move, as he searched her face for clues. But she had her eyes lowered. “Melisende. Come with me, for I will not leave without you.”

  He didn’t dare move, simply waited. It was long moments before she expelled a deep breath and she looked up at him with eyes that were both serious and sad. He frowned, fearing the worst.

  “You must return to France, Galien. You must.”

  “There’s only one way I’ll do that. Will you come?”

  She nodded slowly. “I’ll come.”

  He gripped her shoulders, hardly daring to believe her words. “You will?”

  She nodded again but her lips didn’t turn into a smile. “I will.”

  He brought her tight against him and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you. I know you are afraid. ’Tis a brave decision but the only right one and I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.”

  She pulled away, a slight frown playing on her brow as she steadily regarded him. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe.”

  She turned away abruptly, the complex mix of frown and smile quickly gone as she glanced back at him. “Come we must eat, gather our strength. ’Twill be a hot day, we can bathe here in the creek. We will make the most of this last day together… here...”

  There was something in the way she said those words—a note of regret, a poignancy—that caused him a brief moment of uncertainty. But, before he could say anything, she returned to him and lifted her chin until her lips were so close to his, he could feel her sweet breath upon his face.

  “I love you, Galien.” She reached up and swept away his uncertainty with a kiss.

  Chapter 12

  The afternoon passed in a quiet, heated haze of love-making, swimming in the creek, and eking out the last of their bread and wine with the fresh seafood they found in the creek. But slowly, inexorably the sun follo
wed its course until it hung on the western horizon, shedding its rich light over the flat expanse of marshes.

  Melisende took one last look around the cottage that had witnessed their lovemaking and closed the door. Sadness overwhelmed her. She’d experienced magic here, a connection with another person, which she’d never again feel.

  She turned to see Galien, standing at the edge of the clearing under the shelter of the wind-twisted trees that surrounded the old cob cottage, looking out at the horizon. With his broad shoulders, feet planted firmly beneath him, and one hand on his sword, he looked like a man ready for anything—a man in command. And she knew he was in command of her heart now, whether she liked it or not.

  She walked up to him and he drew her to his side. “’Tis like the mudflats are on fire.”

  She followed his gaze. “They’ve come alive. Like me.”

  He nodded. “Like a spark from a tinder box on grass spent too long without water, it consumes.” He paused. “It also renews.” She shivered and he turned her in his arms so she faced him. “My love, what is the matter?”

  “I’m scared, Galien. I’m so scared.” It was the truth, but not for the reason he believed.

  “There’s nothing to be scared about, my love. We will be together from now on.”

  She felt a sharp pang of regret. “I love you, Galien. And I always will.”

  He frowned. “Melisende, there is sadness in your voice. I know I am asking you to leave your home but we will be together. You must have no fear, for I will care for you well.”

  She nodded and forced herself to smile. “Come, we must be at the beach soon. This will be our last chance for weeks. We must go.”

  They emerged from the dark channel, hidden by the tall reeds, out onto the exposed and windy sand spit. The moon had risen above the inland hills, showering the scene with a strange silvery light. Before them, men crouched, sheltering in the lee of the sand banks that formed the only high ground at the tip of the remote sand spit. Around the men were coracles, while yet others stood before empty seaweed carts. They nodded in silent greeting to Melisende and cast brief, suspicious glances at Galien, before turning their gaze once more back to the sea.