by Sarah Hegger
“What about you?”
He clasped her hand and stopped her. “We will both find much pleasure this night.” He grimaced. “But not if you continue that for much longer.”
He cupped her breast.
Heat shot from that point to her core. His thumb brushed her nipple to a tighter, harder point, and Alice moaned.
“Such pretty breasts.” He bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth.
Hot and wet, his mouth at her breast built the ache between her thighs. His hair inky against her skin. So carnal and erotic, she twined her fingers in his hair.
He moved to her other breast, lavishing his attention on it with his lips, his tongue, his teeth.
Moisture slid from between her legs, at first a little alarming and mortifying. She clenched her thighs together.
William raised his head, the devil gleaming in his eyes. “What is it, Alice?”
Her face heated, she could never tell him this.
He slid his hand over the curve of her belly and into the curls atop her thighs. His fingers parted her female flesh.
At last! Alice whimpered at the barrage of sensation his clever fingers unleashed. Mortification forgotten, she parted her thighs.
William gave her a low rumble of approval. He found a tight bundle of nerve endings and Alice’s knees weakened. Right where she ached the worst, he caressed her. She grabbed onto his arms and held on. Every inch of her clamored for something, but where he touched held pure pleasure.
“My Alice.” He slid his fingers inside her. “Do you know what this does to a man? To know that you desire him?”
She shook her head. Not the faintest idea, but she never wanted him to stop.
“Shall I show you more?” William pressed her back.
Dear God, Alice wanted the more as much as she wanted her next breath.
The bed hit the back of her knees, and William pressed her onto her back. With his hands on the inside of her thighs, he parted her knees.
His intent gaze fastened between her legs, shining with a hunger that matched hers.
“So pretty.” He lowered his head. “I need to taste if you are as sweet as you look.”
“Whaaa—”
Sweet Mother of God. His lips on her core sent a shaft of pleasure through her that arched her back. He suckled, nibbled, worked his tongue over her until she lost coherent thought. Something so good must be a sin of the flesh, but she did not care.
The sensation between her legs sharpened, drawing hard pants from her chest, curling her toes. It built within her, coiling tighter as William played his mouth over her. Bursts of pleasure shot through her muscles, ripping a cry from her.
“There, my Alice.” William hovered above her, supporting his weight on his forearms beside her head. “Did you like that?”
“Aye.” She melted into the bed.
Between her thighs, his hard rod pressed, a reminder of what they had not done.
William palmed his length, his weight braced on one arm.
His shaft stretched her, opening her until he slid within her. No pain, no discomfort as he filled and stretched her, stirring her blood again. She tilted her hips, taking him deeper.
William’s breath rasped. “Aye, like that.”
The muscles of his belly contracted as he withdrew and thrust again.
Alice fastened her thighs around his hips, drawing him deeper inside her. The pleasure built slower, concentrated on the place where he filled her. He drove into her, again and again, pushing the sensation higher with each thrust.
Alice writhed beneath him. Desperate for him never to stop, and even more desperate to reach that pinnacle again. Her completion swept over her in a devastating rush and held her there for long, beautiful moments.
William tensed above her, thrust deep, and shouted her name.
Sweat slicked their bodies as his weight rested on her. He was heavy, but she wanted to keep him there. She felt bound to him, connected and as one. One flesh, as her vows had promised.
After a while—perhaps moments, perhaps hours—Alice only knew the contentment in lying there, William moved to her side. The loss of his heat made her shiver.
He tucked her against his side, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Through her palm, his heart beat hard in his chest.
Alice’s thoughts jumbled. Had they created a child? A being of light and love, born from something wondrous. Thrice married, twice bedded, and tonight William had shown her how innocent she had still remained. In one mind-altering act, he had opened a world of possibilities to her.
His voice rumbled low and quiet in the still room. “Alice.”
“Aye.”
“That was…” For once, her smooth-tongued husband had no words.
“Aye.” Neither did she. Except…“William?”
“Aye.”
“Do you think—would you mind if we did it again?”
His laughter rolled through the dark. “Right this instant?”
“Well, perhaps, not right this instant. But soon.”
Chapter 12
Alice left her chamber without her wimple the next morning. Something within her had changed. In a greater sense of the word than she had ever understood before, she was a woman.
Twice more, William had awakened her in the night and taken her to even greater heights. Or depths.
Memories of their night crowded around her, and a blush heated her cheeks. She hugged them close, a delicious ache in her limbs a reminder she could hold throughout the day.
“Alice.” Sister stalked the passage toward her. “You are not dressed.”
“Aye, I am.” Alice grasped the edges of her light mood and held on. “William prefers my hair uncovered.”
“Does he?” Sister smoothed her scapula. “I trust you will draw the line at walking around naked, if William prefers that too.”
“Oh, he does.” Alice giggled. “But not before the entire keep.”
She left before she could hear the blistering rebuke building on Sister’s face.
“Lady Alice.” Will rounded the stairwell at a run and ground to a halt in front her. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “My lord says to come right away. You have visitors.”
“Visitors?” Alice tried to think of anyone who would visit them here. Her father perhaps. Her happy mood dimmed somewhat at the prospect.
“Aye.” Will’s thin chest swelled with the news he carried. “Aonghas the Red is here.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“And he brings his sons.” Will twirled his arms. “All of them.”
Questions clattered about in her head. Well, she wouldn’t get her answers standing here staring at Will like a moonstruck calfling. Alice picked up her skirts and rushed down the stairs. She stopped a moment outside the hall and smoothed her braided hair. She did feel a mite naked without her wimple.
“Ah, my pretty wee bird.” Aonghas threw his arms wide and strode toward her. “See, I have come to visit you.”
* * * *
William kept his eye on the Scot as the man noisily bussed Alice on the cheek.
Alice! She’d surprised him last night. Beneath that prim exterior lurked a blaze that took very little to ignite. He had left their chamber this morning before she awoke, needing time to put his jumbled thoughts into order.
He had tupped his share of women. More than his share. Yet Alice had provided one revelation after another. Her frank, sensual curiosity and the delight she took in exploring it had swept him away. The passion between them rattled his complacency. Of course, Alice was too inexperienced to know this, but he did, and the knowledge swirled in his gut. It complicated his idea of keeping his wife at comfortable arm’s length.
“Dear God, there is Scot in you, flower.” Aonghas fisted Alice’s braid.
Raw rage tightened William’s limbs. If the man did not take his hands off his wife, William would remove them for him.
“I am sure not.” Alice laughed and retrieved her hair.
“I am telling you there is.” Aonghas waved his hand up and down her. “If your bonnie face did not speak the truth of your blood, then that fiery hair would do so for certain.”
“I take it you are not here to discuss my wife’s bloodlines.” William’s voice cracked across the large hall. God’s teeth, he’d sounded like a bristling wolfhound.
Aonghas stuck his thumbs in his belt and raised a brow at him.
William slapped an affable smile on his face. Still, he ducked around the man and stood by Alice. She smelled of something light and floral, and he dipped his head and kissed her mouth. Cheeks were for strange Scots, but he owned her mouth. “Good morrow, my Alice.”
Alice colored up and dropped her head with a shy smile.
“Now,” Aonghas boomed. He slapped his hands on his stomach, his thin face wearing a grin that warned William negotiations came next. “I suppose you are wondering what I am doing here?”
“You are always welcome, Aonghas,” Alice said.
As long as the cur kept his grubby paws off William’s wife. He motioned Aonghas to take a seat.
“I will see to refreshment.” Alice twisted out of William’s grip and left the hall.
They both dropped their celebration faces. William took the opposite hearth bench from Aonghas. Next time Aonghas visited Tarnwych he intended to have two of the largest, finest carved wooden chairs he could find for Aonghas to rest his conniving ass on.
“Our talk the other day got me thinking.” Aonghas pursed his lips, rubbing his forefinger beside his nose. “You see, William, we both have a wee problem or two.”
A large problem indeed for Aonghas to have missed the opportunity to sneer a “sir” at him. “We do?”
“Tarnwych is a fair keep, to be sure, but she is undermanned, understocked, and it will be a long, cold winter. Up here in the north, we know the true meaning of winter.”
There it came, the thrust the blasted man could not resist. “I have plans for Tarnwych.”
“Aye, I am certain you do.” Aonghas stirred. “You look to me to be a man always with a plan, but the winter is nigh on us, and you would need to be a bloody miracle worker to get your keep ready for winter.”
There wasn’t much point in arguing the obvious, so William kept his gaze leveled at the other man. “When do we get to your problem?”
Aonghas guffawed. Such a massive sound for the man’s body. “I have sons.”
“You are to be congratulated.”
“Many, many sons.”
“Ah.” God help the man if they took after their sire.
“They be good lads. Strong, brawny, but a lusty lot. Always fornicating and fighting all about my lands.”
Well, what did the man expect? William had heard stories about Aonghas from the men in the barracks. On his fifth wife, and twice as many lemans scattered about The Crags. “I imagine that could be uncomfortable.”
“You have no idea.” Aonghas let the mask slip a moment, and William felt a twinge of sympathy. “The lads are bad enough, but when their mothers get up me about them…this one taking up for her son, the other ready to rip her hair out for her son. It is enough to drive a man fair mad.”
William fought his grin at the man’s discomfort. “And how do our problems in any way relate?”
“I am glad you asked that.” Aonghas patted his belly like it held a load of roasted beef. “You being a knight and all, and as I hear it, a strong hand at bringing a quarrelsome man into line, you could take some of my problem off my hands.”
“You mean your sons. Take a son or two off your hands?” Holy hell, that didn’t sound like a good deal at all.
“I was thinking more like nine or ten sons.”
“How many do you have?”
“Fifteen at last count, but there be another belly swelling at The Crags and I will wager my right hand another boy is in there.” Aonghas grimaced. “I do not breed daughters, you ken, just more bloody sons.”
William silently commended Aonghas on his vigor.
Aonghas slapped his hands on his knees and grinned. “Each boy will come mounted and armed. No need to spend coin getting them set up. I will make sure of that before they leave. All you have to do is…shape all that lustiness.”
“But Aonghas, as you have already pointed out, I barely have provisions to feed the mouths I have through the winter.” The man’s sons in his keep might ensure a little less raiding. God knew he needed the men.
Aonghas spread his arms wide. “William, lad, I would never leave a man to struggle. My nearest neighbor and all. I have thrown my larders wide, brought you a few gifts to welcome you to the north.”
“What sort of gifts?” The edible kind, he hoped. Gord had almost ruined his fast breaking with an exhaustive list of all the shortages at Tarnwych.
“My man is with your Gord as we speak. We have brought a wagon or two with us, but we can be seeing to a couple of those other needs as well.” Aonghas winked. “If you and I can reach a wee agreement.”
Food he welcomed, and some stock beasts. A few creature comforts couldn’t hurt to bring some smiles back to this miserable keep either. “I will take two sons.”
“Nine.”
“Three.”
“Eight.”
“Four.”
“Seven, and it would not be worth my while to accept anything less.” Aonghas held up his hand with a firm nod.
William could grow to like the man. Of course, he wouldn’t trust him further than he could toss his scrawny carcass, but the man drove a fine bargain. “Seven, mounted and fully armed. That means weapons and full armor for the horse and the man.”
“Done.” Aonghas thrust out his hand.
“And”—William raised his finger—“for each son I take, an extra horse, and full weaponry for another man.”
Rearing back, Aonghas gaped at him. “God’s ballocks man, you will beggar me.”
“I think not. Seven sons and their mothers can wreak a sizable amount of havoc.”
Aonghas’s frowned at the ground, as he weighed the offer. “An extra horse with each son.”
“And weapons. I will supply the armor.”
“From where?” Aonghas scoffed.
“From the extra breed stock you will send me.”
“Jesu Wept!” Aonghas leapt to his feet. “You will starve us.” He peered at William. “Are you sure your people are not Scots?”
“I also believe my Alice will look fetching in some of those fox furs your ladies sport. Not the white ones. They will make her look wan.”
“You.” Aonghas opened and shut his mouth, took a brief spin about the room and stomped back again. “You haggle like a Highlander.”
“Seven sons, Aonghas, will take a lot of training. And no interference as I take it on.”
“The least you can do is take eight of the sods.”
“Seven, all my other conditions met. Take it or leave it. Tarnwych might be poor right now, but I brought money to this table. My father is a very wealthy man.” He leant forward. “A man who might also foster a likely boy or two.”
Aonghas dropped back onto the bench with a huff. “You will be the death of me, for sure.”
William stretched his legs out before him. “I wonder what is keeping the refreshments.”
As if she lurked on the far side of the hall door, Alice appeared with a trail of serving women. “My apologies for your wait.” She smiled at Aonghas. “We are not as well run as The Crags.”
Her words appeared to soothe Aonghas’s feathers, and he managed a tight smile in return.
William rose and offered her his seat. He poured wine, Anglesea’s by the aroma, for the three of them and handed Alice her goblet and then Aonghas.
Aonghas quaffed his in one large gulp, his gaze darting around the hall.
William motioned a serving man to refill his goblet
. They would have none of that savage Scots brew at Tarnwych. “Shall I tell my lady the news that she is to receive seven guests in the near future?”
“Blight on you, man.” Aonghas shook his head. “But, aye.”
Alice stared at him with wide eyes.
“My love.” William put his hand on her slight shoulder. “I am sure you will share my delight in the news we are to foster seven of Aonghas’s sons.”
“We are?” Alice’s voice grew weak. “When?”
“No time like this one.” Aonghas sprang to his feet with a grin.
William’s hackles rose at the sudden change in demeanor.
Puffing out his chest, Aonghas said, “I brought them all with me.”
Of course he had. William could not prevent his smile. Aonghas had come here determined to win the day.
“Lads!” Aonghas bellowed loud enough to startle lice. “Get yourselves in here.”
An unkempt gaggle of hulking Scots shuffled into the hall. Wild hair, bearded faces, and covered in furs, they resembled an army of barbarian marauders.
William guessed he’d probably gotten the worst end of a devil’s bargain.
Aonghas’s smug expression confirmed it. He pointed. “That be Domnall, Dubhghall, Donnchadh, Domnall, Aonghas, Seamus, and Domnall. You need not concern yourselves with the rest of them.”
Dear God, what an ugly lot, and massive. William did not care to speculate on the size of their mothers given their diminutive sire.
“Good morrow.” Alice managed a weak smile.
“Greet Lady Alice,” Aonghas thundered.
A deep rumble came from the lads. One made an attempt at a bow. William thought it might be the third Domnall, but who could tell beneath all that hair.
“Meet Sir William. He is to have the training of you lot.” Aonghas strutted like a bantam cock before his towering sons. “Now he may look like a pretty southerner to you lot, but that man drives a bargain to make a Scots mother’s heart sing. That sword he wears is not a nice bauble either, and he knows how to use it. If any one of you fancies your chances, remember Dunstan.”
Alice peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. No doubt Aonghas had eyes and ears in their household.