by Sakwa, Kim
Yep, run first, sex later.
She carefully untangled herself from Greylen’s embrace, then changed before slipping out of the chamber. She’d just put her hand on the latch of the front door when Greylen’s voice startled her.
“Where do you sneak to, wife?”
Gwen turned, surprised by his tone. “I’m not sneaking anywhere, Greylen. I’m going for a run.”
“Explain, then, leaving without telling me your intentions?”
“Greylen, I thought you were sleeping, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
He looked at her like she were crazy. “Gwen, I can hear a pin—”
“Don’t tell me,” she cut him off, holding up her hand. “As far as Edinburgh, right?”
“That’s correct. And you’ll go nowhere.” He crossed his arms over his chest to emphasize his point.
“Greylen, I didn’t exercise yesterday,” she explained. “And I really need to now. I’ll only be gone an hour. Please be reasonable.”
“Reasonable,” he shouted. “’Tis still dark, and you go alone.”
Really? He had the nerve to try that one? With a straight face no less. “Greylen, when I open this door will there be guards on either side?”
“Your point?” he asked, as if realizing his mistake too late.
“I won’t be alone then, will I?” She said the words softly, aware from his expression that he’d drawn the same conclusion.
“Nay,” he said quietly. “I will.” He shook his head, as if disbelieving he’d said it aloud.
Gwen just stood there, shocked. My God, he didn’t want to be alone. This beast of a man, her husband, didn’t want to be alone. She smiled sympathetically, good Lord, how could she not. She knew how it felt to be alone. It seemed she’d spent the entirety of her life, until recently, feeling just that. Wasn’t that what she’d just realized earlier? She’d either been alone, or alone in a crowd.
As she walked to him, her heart melted even more. “I’m sorry,” she conceded, placing her hands on his chest. “I’ll go later.” After all, it wasn’t like she didn’t have time on her hands. Being stuck in the fifteenth century had its advantages. Of course, she belonged to a well-educated and wealthy family, which happened, she’d bet her life on, to help immensely. She wouldn’t fool herself because, she knew without a doubt, it would really suck otherwise.
“Nay, I’m acting foolish. I’ll go with you.”
“You will?” A run with Greylen? In all her life she never really thought she’d find someone to share everything with. She’d imagined it, of course. She’d hoped for it, like deep down in that magical place where fantasy lived. But to actually feel it and live it. Wow.
“Aye,” he confirmed, taking her hands to bring them to his lips so he could kiss the palm of each. “Tell me the way of it.”
“It’s simple, Greylen. You run.”
“You call that exercise?” he teased.
“Don’t knock it, you might like it,” she muttered, squeezing his hands.
“I’ll just be a moment. Should I wear the new shoes in the wardrobe?”
“Yes, and comfortable pants. And one of those knit shirts,” she added, excited that he was joining her.
Gwen heard him a few minutes later. Her mouth fell open as he came down the stairs. Crap! How in the hell was she supposed to run next to that? He looked way too good. With every step he took, his muscles flexed clearly beneath the thin material of the clothes he wore.
She was screwed.
“Problem?” he asked, as if noting her expression.
“Nope,” she replied quickly.
“You lie, wife.” He grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and bringing her in close. “And not very well.”
“Trust me, Greylen, you’ll never know.”
“Gwendolyn,” he drawled. “You know I have ways to make you talk,” he warned against her lips.
“Hold that thought,” she whispered. “You can extract the truth from me later.”
“You’re insatiable, wife,” he said as he opened the doors. He nodded to the guards who stood outside, then followed her down the stairs.
“Ready?” she asked, eyes bright and filled with joy.
“Aye,” he replied.
There was something in his eyes, something she’d come to notice when they spoke. This softening in his features in response to her, as if he’d do anything for her. It was unmistakable, and, honestly, she felt the same. He paced her as they jogged through the gates and down the path that separated the cottages from the practice fields. She started getting warm as they headed toward the lake and took off her shirt, tossing it to the ground.
Greylen cursed as he looked at her. She could only imagine what he must be thinking. It really wasn’t much different from what she would’ve worn back home, shorts and a sports bra. So what if it was a homemade halter and something close to joggers pushed low on her hips and the hem cuffed to her knees. He cursed again. Poor baby.
“Take your shirt off, Greylen, you’ll feel much better.” He pulled it off but held it in his hand. “Drop it, we’ll get ’em on the way back.”
“I swear, Gwendolyn, if this is your normal habit,” he warned as he glared at her, “my men are dead.”
“We’ll put an ad in the paper and hire new ones,” she suggested with a smile.
It was about ten minutes later, as they circled the lake that Greylen turned to her. “I enjoy your run, Gwen.”
“It’s my favorite,” she said. Then she added reflectively, “It keeps my spirit alive.”
Greylen stopped immediately, pulling her back as she ran past. He lifted her chin as she caught her breath. “I keep your spirit alive now, Gwendolyn—since the night I clutched your body beneath the water—and ’tis mine alone to safeguard.”
Greylen’s tone was filled with possession and Gwen had no doubt that he believed what he said. For a moment, she almost conceded he was right. They’d never talked about that night, and she needed to know what happened. “Was I breathing when you pulled me from the water, Greylen?”
He closed his eyes, obviously recalling that night almost a month ago. “Nay.”
Greylen didn’t say more, and his silence scared her. “What happened, Greylen?”
He let out a long breath as he looked to the lake, then took her hand and began walking again. “We waited in front of the keep, not knowing how you’d come.” He closed his eyes again, stopping where they stood and shook his head. “I heard your cry, Gwen, through the most terrible storm I’ve ever witnessed. There was a flash of lightning, and I swear I heard you.” He stopped again, looking down at her. “I swam to you. I saw your struggles and watched you go under. You were an arm’s length away, maybe two.” As if consumed by emotions of that night, he grabbed her arms and brought her in close. “You never resurfaced!” His words were an accusation, and his voice was filled with the terror he’d felt.
“I tried to get to shore, Greylen, I couldn’t.” She was lost in her own feelings of what happened that night, reliving that fear and seeing it, too, in him. “I couldn’t do it.” She started crying, then became angry when he didn’t seem to believe her.
He pulled her into his arms. “I know, love…I know.” His tone was soothing now, as if he hadn’t meant to speak so harshly. “I searched the water till I found you, Gwen. You were completely lifeless.”
“How long was I under?”
“Long minutes…three…maybe four before we resurfaced.”
“You stayed under that long?” she asked, glancing up to him.
“I’d no choice. The current. You’d have been lost.”
“How, Greylen, it’s imposs—” She didn’t finish. They just exchanged a look. Impossible had little meaning anymore.
“When I finally held you, there was this force of energy that swept through our bodies
. I’ll never forget it, Gwen. It gave me the strength to endure, and I think it started your heart anew. It couldn’t have beaten so long without air. Not for the time it took me to find you and reach the shore.”
“But it was beating?”
“Aye, barely.” He rubbed his fingers through his hair, as if willing the feelings away. “I gave you breath till the water released from your lungs. ’Tis a wonder your ribs didn’t break from the pressure I used.”
“How did you know what to do?”
“Logic. And I swore they’d not have you,” he said, grabbing her shoulders. “I brought you back myself.” He was lost again in emotions from that night. “Your life, your very spirit, I fought for as never before—and ’tis forever mine, Gwendolyn.” He must have realized he was gripping her out of fear and anger, and he pulled her back into his arms.
Gwen leaned against him. “How did this happen, Greylen?”
“I’ve no answer, Gwen,” he said, shaking his head. “I only know, I’ve waited years to have you.”
“I used to dream about you, Greylen,” she whispered. “Every night, I had the same dream over and over again. I couldn’t make out your features in the shadows. I couldn’t feel the heat of your lips or body. I couldn’t even hear the sounds we made. You made love to me again and again, but I never felt what I feel now. I always woke up with this giant ache that never went away.”
“I suffered the same, Gwen,” he whispered.
“You had the dream too?” she asked, wiping her eyes.
“Aye.”
“They started on my twenty-third birthday, Greylen. How old were you?”
“Eight and twenty, on the eve of my birth as well.”
“That was five years ago for both of us. Why do you think it happened at the same time?”
“My mother told me of the prophecy when I was three and twenty,” he explained. “I always repeated the words in my head, but one morning as I watched the sunrise, I recited them. The dream started that night.”
She smiled. “You unlocked the dream.”
“Aye, I suppose I did.”
“You stole my heart and body, Greylen, even then.”
He pushed the hair from her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me, Gwen?” he asked. “I never would have—”
She pressed her hand against his lips as her face heated profusely. “I wouldn’t change the way you made love to me for anything, Greylen,” she said, cutting him off. She so did not want to have this conversation. Ever.
He didn’t press her further, then Greylen gave her a squeeze. “Let’s go to the shore. ’Tis almost dawn.”
“Race ya,” she said, smiling as she pulled away.
He grinned. “You haven’t a chance.”
Gwen’s smile widened. “Give me thirty seconds,” she called, already running ahead.
Gwen heard Greylen’s laugh, then felt his powerful strides as he closed the distance. He didn’t pass her but ran by her side until they reached the back of the keep. Taking advantage of his fair sportsmanship, she sprinted ahead. The path was only fifty yards away and she pushed herself as never before, so hard she knew it had to be a personal record.
She should’ve known better, Greylen was right behind her. She turned to look at him—big mistake. His grin was wide, and she shrieked as his hands reached, grabbing her waist. They fell to the ground. Her husband took the brunt of the fall, then rolled her beneath him.
He smiled as she laughed and caught her breath. “You’ll pay for unscrupulous conduct, lady.”
“Promises, promises, husband,” she quipped.
“’Tis a promise you can be sure of,” he vowed, covering her lips. “I’ll have you again, and you’ll not exercise for days when I’ve finished.”
He helped her up, and then carried her on his back down the narrow path. They left their shoes on the sand, walking hand in hand along the shore’s edge as the water rushed over their feet.
“Come in the water, Gwen.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Nay. I wish to feel you naked.”
“It’s freezing.”
“’Tis the middle of summer, love. The water’s not overly cold.”
Pointing her finger to the sea, Gwen couldn’t help but argue. “I’ve been in that water, Greylen.”
“Weeks ago, in the middle of the night, during a storm,” he explained, lifting her chin. “You doubt me?”
“Oh, fine,” she muttered, pulling her face away. She untied her halter and started for her pants, but before she could finish, Greylen hauled her against him. His hands ran down her bare back, cupping her bottom as he kissed her.
“Greylen, do your men keep watch from above?”
“Nay.” He told the lie looking directly in her eyes.
She wasn’t stupid, his men always kept his guard, and now, they always kept hers. Since Greylen’s return, however, they’d been more discreet. She wondered where they stood atop the cliffs, knowing they wouldn’t actually watch them, but she had no doubt they would remain there all the same.
He took her hand and led her into the water, stopping when it reached his chest and her shoulders. Then, still holding her hand, he slipped beneath the surface. When he came back up, he must have taken note of her look, the one that telegraphed her fear. “I’ll not let go,” he promised and pulled her against him.
She placed her hands behind his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. After a few moments of his physical reassurance, she leaned back, slicking her hair as he supported her from beneath and glided her across the surface.
“I think you owe me something,” she reminded him, running her fingers through his hair.
“And you’ll be paid in full,” he replied.
He kissed her, taking the very air she breathed. His hands moved down her body, stopping beneath her thighs. His fingers pressed into her skin until his erection slid between her folds.
He held tight to her center spreading her farther as she moved across his length. Her cries turned desperate as his finger slipped inside. She climaxed almost instantly from the dual assault. Wrapping her fingers around his width, she guided him inside. He held her thighs, pushing her back and then pulling her against him again and again, moving her so fast she ceased to keep up with him. She called his name as she tightened around him, and he released with one last thrust.
Gwen clung to his body, though he fully braced her. “You win, Greylen.” Her words came in gasps as her head fell back. “I’ll be lucky to walk tomorrow, let alone run.”
Later she would realize that Greylen waited to respond, determined that she understand the significance of his words when he spoke them. Because when she looked at him again, he made his point clear. Very clear. “Hear my words, Gwendolyn, for I’ll not say them again. I always win.”
There was no boast in his voice, yet the way that he looked at her chilled her to the bone. His whole demeanor spoke of authority and possession. And then he kissed her, a kiss he chose to take rather than give.
Under normal circumstances, she would never submit to such tyranny. Never.
But, then, these were not normal circumstances.
And besides…her spirit was already his.
“I’ve another long day, Gwen,” Greylen told his wife as he began to shave. They were in their bathing chamber, standing in front of the chest.
“Will you be back for supper?” Gwen asked, pushing herself up on the chest.
“Too early to tell,” he replied, watching as she scooted before him and took the brush from his hand.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, lathering his face.
“Such as what?” he returned, his heart all but melting as she picked up the razor and began to shave him.
“Help you or your mother somehow?” Gwen asked, tilting his face to the side. “There.” She sm
iled, wiping the remaining soap away with a towel. “Perfect.”
Greylen leaned down to kiss her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Gwen,” he began, back to the matter she broached. “You may do anything you choose.”
“I’m a little limited, Greylen.”
“You doubt your abilities?”
“It’s not my abilities I doubt, it’s how I can be useful.”
“Being here is useful.”
“Greylen, you’re home now and we’re married—”
“And I thought you were daft,” he teased. “You’re quite astute.”
“Stop it.” She laughed. “I’m serious. I need to do something. I can’t just sit around all day.”
“What did you do before?”
“Before you came home or before I came here.”
“Both.”
“I…” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me.”
“You don’t trust me?” he asked.
“Yes, I trust—”
Greylen grabbed her chin. “Why do you answer yes and no to me, yet, always aye and nay to my family and men?”
She seemed surprised by his question. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Maybe I’m more comfortable with them. We’ve had more time together.”
“Then you’ve found your first task. Find your comfort, immediately.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“’Tis not something I find humorous, Gwen.”
Their conversation was interrupted when Anna knocked on the door, informing them a bath had been filled in front of the fire. Greylen lifted Gwen and gently placed her on the floor. “Come, love, I’ve time for a quick wash.”
“What are you doing today?” Gwen asked, grabbing her robe and his shaving tools.
“We’re branding the cattle and horses. After the spring births, ’tis a task we’ve usually seen to by now.”
“Why didn’t your men take care of it while you were gone?”
“’Tis something I enjoy.” He shrugged. “Rounding the animals from pasture and marking them.”