She felt him from her lips to her toes as a raw, fiery need consumed her.
With a groan, he pulled back from her, then scooped her up into his arms and headed for the stairs.
“Draven, your chest. Your leg!”
“I don’t care,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Wherever and as many times as it suits me to.”
Heat crept over her face at his words, but her body tingled with anticipation. At last she would have him, and he would possess her completely.
She knew she should be afraid or shamed, and yet all she felt was a strange sense of rightness. As if they were meant to have this moment, whatever the consequences.
Draven carried her up the stairs, into his room, and slammed the door shut behind them. He set her down before him, slowly as if savoring the feel of her body sliding against his, then dropped the bolt into place.
Emily stood on shaky limbs as he turned to face her.
“I give you this one chance to leave while I’m able,” he said as he pulled his surcoat over his head. “If you stay, you are mine.”
“I am yours,” she whispered.
And this time when he took her into his arms, his hold was rough and demanding. His lips tasted of passion and delivered sweet promises to her as his hands reached behind her to unlace her kirtle.
Boldly, she unlaced his black tunic and pulled it over his head, exposing his hard, corded chest to her eager hands. He sucked his breath between his teeth as she touched skin so hot it felt as though it could scorch her.
Emily gave in to all the yearning she had felt for him since the moment she first glimpsed him on his white stallion, so commanding, so powerful. So very masculine.
This day, she would let loose her fantasies and find out once and for all what it felt like to be a woman. To be taken by this warrior as nature had intended woman to know man.
Gingerly, she traced a line over the healing burn on his shoulder as she remembered the way he had looked lying wounded in the meadow. She had come so close to losing him, and fear gripped her.
“Are you certain you can do this?” she asked, fearing the pain it might cause him.
He cupped her face in his hands and looked at her fiercely as the pad of his left thumb traced her passion-swollen lips. “At this moment, lady, I could fly.”
Emily smiled.
Draven curled his hand against her cheek, then buried his lips against her throat. A thousand ribbons of pleasure tore through her as he nibbled a fiery trail around her neck, his warm breath tickling as his tongue gently, sensually twirled on her skin.
She encircled him with her arms and ran her hand down his naked spine.
Draven shuddered in pleasure. Never in his life had he felt this way. Never had he been with a woman where he felt so free. All he could taste was this moment and all he could feel was her love.
Her warm acceptance.
He trembled from the force of it and from the need he had to possess this woman who was the closest thing to heaven he would ever know. Today he would savor every inch of her body, claim her in ways no one ever had.
Draven pulled back and stared into her passion-dulled eyes. “You are beautiful,” he whispered.
She answered his words with a possessive kiss of her own. And for the first time in his life he allowed someone to claim him. Indeed, he took pleasure in the claiming as he gladly gave himself over to her touch.
Her boldness amazed and thrilled him. He leaned his head back as she placed her lips to his jaw and stroked his skin gently with her tongue. Ultimate pleasure consumed him.
Everything in the world shattered and all he knew was Emily. All he felt was her touch, her breath, her warmth.
Her feminine essence consumed him. Filled him.
Completed him.
He had no life save her. And in that instant he banished every bad memory of his life. There was no past he would ever remember save that to which she belonged.
Emily was his past, his present, and his future—whatever it might be.
She was his.
Emily gasped as he pulled her gown from her and stared hungrily at her fevered body. Never before had anyone seen her unclothed. The sensation was titillating, exciting, and it left her breathless. Self-consciously, she tried to cover herself with her arms.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She did as he ordered.
He took her arms in his hands and spread them wide while holding her gaze with his eyes. “I don’t want you to hide from me. Ever,” he said as he reached out and cupped her swollen breast with his hand. Her nipple hardened to his touch as it became heavy and full against his warm palm. “I’ve waited far too long to see you for you to cover yourself now.”
She licked her dry lips. “It seems to my memory you were the one who did the running, milord.”
“Draven,” he corrected her as he dipped his head down to nuzzle her neck. His breath fell like fire against her skin, and she let it consume her. “I never want to hear you call me anything but that, and I am through running from you, Emily.”
He kissed a trail up her neck until he nipped playfully at her earlobe, sending chills the length of her body.
Her head swam as he backed her up against the wall and shed the rest of his clothes. He seized her in his arms and she moaned as her bare flesh collided with his. The hard planes of his chest pressed against her breasts, which hardened even more as they brushed against his soft curls.
Never had she felt the like as his naked flesh touched hers from shoulder to foot. Instinctively, she arched herself against the searing heat of his body, needing to feel closer to him.
His swollen shaft pushed against her stomach and a moan came from deep within him. It reverberated through her until she could feel his pleasure as if it were her own.
Draven’s eyes darkened as he reached out and cupped her breasts in both his hands. He dipped his head and took her right breast into his mouth. Emily moaned as he twirled his tongue over the tautness of it, causing it to contract until it became a tiny sensitive bud.
She hissed as tendrils of pleasure shot through her. Still, he was relentless in his tasting of her. He trailed kisses to her other breast, where he gave it the same deliberate, scorching attention.
“Draven,” she moaned, marveling at the mixture of pleasure and desire he stoked.
He returned to her lips as his hands ran the length of her body, stroking and exploring everywhere they went. She ached for his touch. Craved the endless pleasure they supplied her.
He ran his hand down her stomach and touched the center of her body.
Emily jerked at the unexpected contact.
“Shh,” he breathed in her ear. “’Tis fine, trust me.”
She relaxed as his fingers separated her tender folds and began to stroke her in an intimate caress. Never had she felt anything like it as all the heat in her body pooled where his fingers stroked and teased. Instinctively, she rubbed her body against his hand, seeking even more of the ecstasy he provided.
Draven’s body stiffened and he pulled away from her with a curse.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I can’t wait for you, Emily,” he whispered. “I want you too badly.”
She didn’t understand his words as her gaze ran down his naked body. Heat flooded her face at the sight of him jutting out like a lance.
Then he returned to her. His eyes were apologetic as he pressed her back against the wall.
“Draven?”
He kissed her, then separated her thighs with his knee. Emily moaned at the feeling of his hard thigh pressing against the part of her that ached for him, and instinctively she rubbed herself against the hard muscles of his thigh, wringing a deep moan from him.
Her body afire, Emily delighted in the feel of his body completely against hers.
Until he drove himself into her.
She gasped as pain ove
rrode her pleasure. “You lied to me,” she whispered as her body throbbed from the strange fullness of having him inside her. “You said it wouldn’t hurt.”
He kissed her cheek tenderly. “’Tis your maidenhead giving way, Emily. I promise once you get used to me, it won’t hurt anymore.”
She didn’t know if she could believe him. Over and over, she heard her sister’s voice warning her of the pain.
He lifted her legs up from the floor and had her place them about his waist. He tilted her head up to where he could stare down into her eyes.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She did.
“If you will suffer me for the next few minutes, I swear to you when you leave here, you won’t be afraid.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.” And then he started moving against her hips.
Emily clenched her teeth, trying not to cry out from the pain of him thrusting inside her.
Draven buried his lips against her throat, hating the way she remained tense.
“Relax,” he breathed in her ear. But she didn’t. If anything, his words seemed to distress her more.
He cursed himself for not knowing what to do to alleviate her discomfort, but he’d never before taken a virgin.
With a frustrated curse, he pulled out of her.
Her legs fell to the floor as she took her weight back on her own feet. She didn’t say a single word as she retrieved her kirtle from the floor and clutched it to her breasts.
It was then he saw the tears in her eyes.
“Oh, Emily.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Joanne was right,” she whispered. “It hurts terribly.”
Draven pulled her against him. His body still needed hers, and it was all he could do not to cry out from the pain of his pent-up desire, but he wouldn’t hurt her again.
He would never be that selfish.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he whispered, then kissed her.
At first she tensed and after several heartbeats she relaxed. Draven breathed a sigh of relief. He would help her through this if it was the last thing he did.
Emily didn’t know what to think as he buried his lips against her throat and his tongue returned to work its magic on her flesh.
This felt so delightful, so wondrous.
But with that thought came the knowledge he would enter her again. She cringed at the thought. Wasn’t it supposed to be over once a man did that?
Yet the feel of his lips on her was pleasurable enough. If only it didn’t lead to the other.
He breathed in her ear and then ran his tongue over her lobe. Dropping her kirtle, Emily moaned in pleasure, then ran her hands over his ribs. Draven pulled back and carried her to the bed.
Still uncertain, she tensed as he laid her upon the rose-scented mattress.
His gaze traveled from the top of her head to her breasts, which burned from the intensity of his look, then down to the juncture of her thighs.
The aching hunger on his face haunted her.
Then, he joined her on the bed.
Like a large, sinewy beast, he crawled up her body and hovered above her. His gaze captured hers as he looked down upon her as if he could devour here where she lay.
Even though he didn’t touch her, she could feel the heat from his body.
And then the most wondrous thing of all happened. He looked upon her face and smiled.
Emily’s heart leaped at the gesture.
“You have never feared me before,” he whispered roughly. “And by all the saints above you’ll not fear me now. Not when I have you as I have dreamed of having you.”
With those words spoken, he dipped his body down in a gentle caress from her head to her toes, then he lifted himself up. She moaned at the feel of his hot flesh touching hers.
He trailed his hands up over her body to her breasts and up to her face to cup it gently, possessively.
“You are mine,” he said fiercely.
“Aye, Draven, I am yours.”
Draven stared at her as he heard the most precious words on earth to him. He could feel her supple form against him as she surrendered herself once more to his touch.
His body burned with need, but having so botched his earlier attempt with her, he made himself move more slowly lest he hurt her again.
The storm of his passion crashed around him, through him, and into him. She would be his, and he would treat her accordingly.
Emily moaned as he deepened his kiss and stroked her breast with his thumb. To her dismay, he left her lips, then nibbled a trail down her cheek to her neck, then up to her ear. She writhed in pleasure as her body shook in response to his tongue as it swirled and darted around the tender flesh.
His warm breath tickled her. “Like that, do you?” he asked.
“Aye,” she breathed.
Then he moved lower with his kisses. To her breasts, her stomach. His whiskers gently scraped her skin as he licked her all over.
Emily closed her eyes and savored the feel of him while he moved to nibble her hip. She was his. She had given herself over to him and she promised herself she wouldn’t revoke her body from him ever again.
Even if it did hurt, he meant more to her than any discomfort.
His pleasure would be hers. Now and forever.
She buried her hands in his hair and moaned as he nibbled the sensitive flesh over her hipbone.
He pulled back from her and placed his body between her thighs.
“Draven—”
“Shh,” he whispered against her thigh. “I promise you it won’t hurt.”
Reticently, she opened her legs wider and allowed him access to her. He shifted his body, and she tensed, expecting him to enter her again. But he didn’t. Instead, he gently parted her tender folds and took her into his mouth.
Emily cried out as sheer pleasure ripped through her. Never had she felt anything more wondrous than the sensation of his tongue doing the most wicked things imaginable to her body.
Her head spun.
Relentlessly, he teased her with his tongue, his breath, his whiskers, making her body hotter and hotter, her pleasure greater and greater.
And to think she had been fearful of pain!
She reached down and buried her hands in his hair, and still he pleased her. Her rapture mounted until she was sure she’d perish from it, and just as she was certain she would, her ravishment coalesced into something so profound and deep that it felt as if her very body was being ripped asunder by pure ecstasy.
Throwing her head back, she cried out in release as her entire body shook from a force unimaginable.
Her body still quivering, Draven crawled up her and then slid back inside her with one strong, masterful stroke. She moaned at the foreign sensation of him deep inside her.
There was no pain this time, only a sense of fullness.
An overwhelming sense of completeness.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
“Aye,” she breathed, wrapping her body around his.
Draven closed his eyes to better savor the feel of her.
Relieved he wasn’t hurting her, he moved slowly against her hips, delighting in the tight heat of her around him. Her sighs of pleasure thrilled him, and when she began to move her hips against his, he feared he might very well perish from it.
She dug her nails into his back as he buried himself deep inside her again and again. Over and over while her hands and moans urged him on.
And when his release came, he thought he’d go blind from it.
Emily smiled as she felt him shudder and collapse on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and just enjoyed the feel of his skin against hers. The feel of him still inside her. Oh, but his weight felt so good on her. She never wanted him to leave.
For the longest time he didn’t move, but simply lay there until she feared he had fallen asleep.
Draven clutched the golden strands splayed across the pillows in his fist
. He could feel her chest rise and fall against his as she breathed easily.
If he could, he would make this moment last forever.
But sooner or later, they would have to leave the room, and then…
He closed his eyes and sighed.
“I am going to die for this,” he whispered, not realizing he had spoken aloud until he felt Emily move.
“You are being overly dramatic.”
Nay, he wasn’t. He knew Henry well. There was nothing or no one the king valued over his laws. Since the day he’d ascended the throne, Henry had fought for peace in his kingdom, and with what Draven had done this day, her father would not be appeased until he was dead.
She pulled back to look at him. “If you married me—”
“Marry how?” he asked as he rolled off her. “What priest would dare marry us without your father’s approval?”
“People marry in secret every day.”
“And those marriages are quickly annulled without the guardian’s approval. Not to mention my oath to Henry. The king doesn’t take betrayal easily.”
“That’s not always true,” she argued. “My father recanted his oath to Henry, yet he retains his lands.”
“Your father retains his lands only because your grandfather fought with Henry and died from a blow he received protecting Henry’s back. In payment, he asked Henry to swear to him that he would forgive your father and not leave him homeless.”
She blinked as if unsure whether to believe his words. “I never knew that,” she whispered. “How do you know of it?”
“I was there.”
“But you saved the king’s life as well,” she insisted. “Will he not forgive you?”
He considered her words. But he knew the truth. Henry would take his betrayal as a personal slight and as such he would react emotionally to it.
Nay, there was no hope for a future.
But unwilling to hurt her, he said quietly, “Perhaps he might.”
All of a sudden, her face lit up and she raised herself to look down at him. “I am the king’s ward, correct?”
“Aye.”
Master of Desire Page 23