And when you leave her?
Pushing aside the thought, and his nearly empty mug of ale, Guy made his way up the stairs and across the creaky bridge he had been staring at just moments earlier. Built for the king’s visit more than twenty years earlier, the room was now reserved for important nobles and, tonight, a mercenary and his wife.
Wife.
Guy could not remember anticipating an evening as much as this one. It had been a long day of travel, followed by the tense visit with de Chabannes, which had gone precisely how he’d expected.
But after that kiss? Sleep could wait.
He could not.
Guy had thought he’d given her plenty of time to bathe, but when he opened the door, he nearly stumbled. The size of four regular rooms at the inn, this vast space would look completely at home in Licheford or Dromsley Castle. Even so, he had a clear view of Sabine scrambling to cover herself inside the large wooden tub he’d commissioned earlier.
She ducked into the water, dipping so far down only her head showed, her wet hair glistening in the light from the candles arranged around her and the wall torches flickering in their sconces. The tub was so large a footstool lay next to it, but it was neither the stool nor the drying cloth draped over a nearby table Guy focused on as he walked toward his wife.
“I thought you’d have finished by now.”
Though she’d covered her breasts, Guy could clearly see a darkness within the water that beckoned him. If the King of England himself attempted to beat down the door, Guy would not allow him entry. Nothing would keep him from her.
He’d never wanted anyone or anything more in his life.
Removing his clothing, piece by piece, he thought of the ride here. More torturous than being captured by a bloodthirsty earl’s retinue or having his arm sliced nearly in two—both of which Guy had experienced.
More than once he’d considered dismounting and tossing caution aside to take Sabine right alongside the road. From the moment she had acquiesced, he could think of nothing other than slipping into her, claiming her as his.
A dangerous thought.
“What are you about?”
He didn’t answer. She would guess in due time.
“There’s no need to cover yourself, Sabine. I am your husband.”
“For a time.” She did not remove her hands.
Again, he didn’t answer.
Instead, Guy stayed his hand on the waist of his braies, the last vestige of any sort of modesty between them.
“Have you changed your mind, then?”
Guy willed her to say no, although he would of course honor her decision had she changed her mind.
“I have not.”
Sabine had once accused him of being many people—she’d told him that she struggled to understand which Guy Lavallais was the “real” one. He often felt the same about his wife. Fearless at times. Modest at others. Which Sabine would greet him now?
Guy would soon find out.
“Oh my!” she said as he slipped free of his braies.
He could do with such a reaction. Smiling, Guy moved to the tub.
“Surely you don’t mean to . . .”
She sat up to accommodate him, knowing exactly what he meant to do. But he mistook her meaning apurpose.
“To make you as wet as the water in which we sit?”
He straddled her legs, settling in quite nicely. The tub made for a tight fit, but it held both of them.
“To make love to you until the sun rises? Aye, I mean to do both and more.”
With her hair wet around her shoulders, a drip of water on her nose, she was like a water nymph, something so beautiful it belonged in another world.
I do not deserve her.
His extremely hard cock brushed against her stomach, and Guy knew it would take tremendous effort not to enter her too soon. Clenching his jaw, he gripped both sides of the tub.
When two delicate hands tentatively lay on his back, Guy sucked in a breath.
Slow and easy.
He leaned down and kissed her. It was so different from their earlier kiss, the gentleness of it seeming to startle her. Coaxing her mouth open, his tongue stroked and teased until he grew even harder, the need to be inside her so very strong.
Slanting his mouth across hers, Guy deepened their kiss, allowing his chest to press against hers. He wanted to feel the two mounds with his hands and cursed the decision to make love to her in the tub.
He’d not wanted to wait, but neither could he fully indulge as he would later when they lay in the bed. For now, he relished the feel of her lips against his. Her hands against his neck and head, pressing him more firmly against her.
Shifting all of his weight to one hand, Guy reached under the water, the small splash tossing droplets of water over them. Finding the underwater treasure, Guy slipped his fingers inside, making Sabine flinch.
Lifting his head, he reassured her with a smile. One that promised she’d be well taken care of, in every way.
“Open a bit for me if you can.”
She did, and he drove his fingers in deeper. When Sabine dropped her mouth open in surprise, he decided he would watch her face, her every expression, as she came in his hands.
Instead of kissing her, Guy offered words instead.
“This”—he used his thumb to instruct her—“is your most sensitive place. You see, if I rub it like so . . .”
She pushed her hips into his fingers.
“The need for release will make you want more. Deeper”—his movements matched his words—“faster.” Water splashed all around them. “Until your body screams in protest from building to such a crescendo but not being allowed to uncoil.”
She was close. Her eyes, glazed.
And by God’s own nails, this woman would be his tonight.
Shuddering at the thought, Guy licked his lips purposefully as he teased her nub again. When Sabine grabbed a fistful of his hair, his smile deepened.
“Grab me. Pull on me. Do what you will, lady wife. As long as you come for me as well.”
She did, tightening around his fingers slowly at first, then pulsating until he pulled away. Kissing her as she found her first release, Guy had just one thought. Getting his Sabine into the bed and making her his wife in truth.
Chapter 20
Sabine could not think. She could do nothing but allow herself to be carried from the tub like a babe. When she gingerly set her feet down on the floor, she was unsure of her ability to stand.
He was there almost immediately with the drying cloth, but rather than give it to her, he began gliding it down her body, across her stomach. When he knelt down to dry her legs, Sabine finally began to regain some semblance of steady breathing.
But it didn’t last long.
“I’m unsure I need to be dried there.”
When he looked up, Sabine could see his face against the backdrop of his muscled shoulders. The heady combination, along with the current location of his hands, nearly made her knees buckle again. She held on for support as Guy chuckled.
“Unsteady?”
He seemed pleased by the fact.
Sabine would have responded, but Guy stood then. She watched as he dried himself.
“So many scars,” she murmured, not daring to look down.
Guy tossed the cloth to the side. Although he wasn’t grinning, she could tell he held back a smile.
“You laugh at me,” she said, wanting to fetch the cloth and cover herself.
“Nay,” he said, unmoving. “Though I intend to shed you of a lifetime of modesty.
He broke eye contact to slowly lower his gaze down her body. As he did, Sabine could think only of hiding herself, but when she moved to do so, Guy shook his head. For reasons beyond her understanding, she acquiesced.
“Your turn.”
Sabine had never felt so exposed. She complied, though, and did as he had done. Arms of a warrior, a flat stomach with at least two scars that she could see to match those on his
shoulders. Four? Nay, five. Mayhap he should wear armor more often.
And then she finally looked lower. Hard and thick, his manhood was as she remembered from the brief glance she’d taken when he entered the bath. So very different from her.
When he closed the distance between them, Sabine gave in to the need to touch him. She wrapped her palm around him, and Guy guided her hand into stroking him up and down. Closing his eyes, her husband let go as she continued on her own. When he bit the inside of his cheek, Sabine actually smiled. Then she remembered how he’d pleasured her. Slowly, at first, and then faster and faster. So she did the same, knowing by his expression her aim had found its mark.
His eyes flew open as his hand covered hers once again, stopping the movements.
“You learn quickly.”
With that, he hauled her against his chest, kissing her with such force it actually startled her for the briefest of moments. But then, all modesty set aside for the moment, Sabine allowed herself to revel in the intense pleasure her husband provided. As he moved them toward the bed, his hands were everywhere at once. But there was one place she wanted them most, so she grabbed his hand and moved it.
Guy simultaneously lifted her onto the bed and complied with her not-so-subtle ministrations.
“You’ve only but to ask,” he breathed into her ear, his fingers complying with her silent plea. “If you want my fingers inside you, tell me. If you want my cock inside instead, I’m happy to comply.”
Guy spread her legs apart with his free hand.
“If you wish for me to kiss you there”—he bit gently on her earlobe—“say it and my tongue will do so gladly.”
Sabine had two thoughts simultaneously. First, the building of pleasure inside her was about to explode as it had done before. And second . . . his tongue . . . there?
“Guy . . .” She knew not what she intended to say.
Suddenly, his hand was gone. Lifting himself above her, Guy positioned himself to enter her but did not move. Instead he watched her, waiting. For a signal? For her to say something?
“You’ll be a maiden no longer,” he said, the strain of holding back evident on his face. “But I will ensure a babe will not swell your belly.”
Her heart lurched at that. Surely she would go to hell for such an act, for preventing life from growing inside her. Selfishly, she wanted to be with her husband anyway. They could not have a future together, but they could have this.
Nodding, Sabine watched as he guided himself easily inside. It felt . . . neither good nor bad. Though she kept the sentiment to herself.
“It will hurt.”
She knew the truth of his words—her mother had warned her—but the stinging that came a moment later when he thrust inside tore a sound from deep within her throat.
Grasping his shoulders, she pushed him away, but Guy did not move.
“Hold still.”
Even as he said it, the intense pain began to abate.
“I’m unsure about this,” Sabine admitted.
“I am not.”
He moved then, so very slowly she could barely feel the movement. This time, there was no pain. He kissed her, making Sabine forget everything but his lips slanting over hers. She thought of the night they met, when he’d held her wrists above her, alluding to this very moment.
Never had she thought they would be in this position in such a short time. That she’d have willing given herself to the arrogant mercenary. And never had she imagined the feelings he would awaken inside her. When Guy moved more quickly, she grasped the back of his head for some stability.
As if any could be found. She was falling deeper and deeper, her lips tearing away to allow for the moan she’d never heard herself make before. The sound seemed to stir something in him, because Guy thrust even deeper that time, reaching his hand between them and nearly causing her to leap from the bed.
Except she wanted very much to be here. With him.
She grabbed his hair, pushed up her hips, and called out his name.
Sabine’s buttocks clenched together as the same tension from before unfurled in her body. Her shoulders shook with the effort, and just as she became aware of herself again, Guy pulled away with such a primeval grunt of pleasure that she nearly cried out at the loss.
Only when she was able to breathe again did she notice he’d propped himself above her. Looking down at the drying cloth next to them on the bed, she grappled to understand. When had he even moved that to the bed?
She looked up, waiting for an explanation.
“If I came inside you, you could grow heavy with child.”
Ah. Of course.
“It seems wrong, somehow.”
And she didn’t mean that preventing such a thing was condemned by God. This had nothing to do with the Church at all.
Guy swallowed. “’Tis not natural to pull away. Every part of me wished not to do so.”
Sabine took a deep, steadying breath. “Every part?”
She waited for his answer. They both knew what she was asking.
Finally, he shook his head ever so slightly. “Nay, not every one.”
Sabine closed her eyes, pretending his words did not feel as if he’d ripped her heart from her chest. This is what she had asked for. It was what she’d wanted.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter 21
He wanted to wake her.
But he also wanted for Sabine to remain sleeping. For when she woke, he wasn’t sure what he’d say to her. That last eve had shaken him more than he wished to admit? That he’d considered staying inside her for the duration? That, for one wild moment, he’d thought he might be glad for it if she did swell with child?
Nay, he could not say any of that. Even as he pulled her closer to him, Guy admitted to himself that such sentiments were dangerous. He had never considered marriage before. A true marriage. But a man’s plans could change—he knew that better than anyone—nay, that was not the reason he should push Sabine away.
He knew he hardly deserved such a woman. He was a bastard, if not in the true sense of the word. He’d not lied about that. Guy had fought for good men, but he’d fought for bad ones too. That he was beyond redemption was a fact he’d learned to live with, despite his friend Terric’s insistence that he judged himself too harshly. And yet, the knowledge that she was much too good for him was not enough to keep him from her.
He was ruthless, mayhap heartless at times, but he would be neither of those with her. Nay, the reason they’d do best to part soon, before either of them fell any deeper, was because this life he led was a hard one. An itinerant one. Staying in one place too long had always unsettled him, and for as long as he could remember, he’d dreamed of leading his own company of mercenaries.
Eventually Sabine would grow weary of life on the road. Perhaps, like his mother, she’d leave one night. Guy could not survive another loss like that. Neither would he bring a child into the world to experience the anguish he’d felt the morning he’d awoken to find his mother had returned to France without him.
When Sabine shifted against him, Guy moved away. Though it was still dark, he swung his legs off the side of the bed.
“The sun has not even risen.”
She sounded sleepy still. And content.
“Stay abed.” He didn’t turn around. “’Tis early, as you said.”
When her hand touched his bare back, Guy flinched. He closed his eyes and imagined grasping it in his own. Holding it above her head and then finding the other, keeping her captive beneath him all morning. Nay, all day. Awaiting word from de Chabannes while buried deep inside her.
But she had the right of it. Intimacy between them was serving only to complicate an already complicated relationship.
“I did not sleep well,” he said truthfully, standing.
Guy dressed without glancing her way. If he knew de Chabannes, his wait would not be a long one. They were here, in Noreham’s village, for a purpose. It would serve him well to remember that.<
br />
He could hear her lying back down.
As he was about to pull a tunic over his head, Guy glimpsed the belt Sabine had crafted.
“Shall we visit the village today? Perhaps there is a girdler nearby.” He picked up the piece. “This really is a fine girdle.”
Although he’d intended to wait for her in the hall, Guy changed his mind and sat on the bed.
“How do you do this?”
“I simply stitched together two narrow bands and finished it with silk fringe. My mother taught me how.”
He paused. “You miss them very much. Your parents.”
“Aye.” Sabine sat up then, and Guy tried not to peer down the wide opening in the front of her shift. “I often wonder what they’d think of the choices I’ve made thus far.”
Though she shrugged, Guy sensed there was nothing casual about her words.
“Though my upbringing was not as conventional as most, my father would have seen me married long ago. Thankfully, my mother had much to say on the matter and believed in my abilities.”
“Can you not be both capable and married?”
He could tell from her expression she doubted such a thing were possible.
“Wouldn’t your mother be an example of someone who did both?”
“Aye. And I understand your meaning. My father was not a typical man. But for all of his protectiveness, I was left alone and sold to an abbey. So I would sooner depend on myself than rely on others.”
Others. Meaning him.
Guy stood. “I would imagine he was anything but typical.”
Strapping his sword to his belt, Guy refrained from clarifying his statement. The parents of extraordinary children often had much to recommend them too, and Sabine was nothing if not extraordinary. But he left that part unsaid.
“I will be just below. Join me when you’re willing.”
The Mercenary: Order of the Broken Blade Page 9