by Lara Adrian
She quaked as a tremor rocked her, spreading a liquid heat to her limbs. Mercy, how she desired him.
She urged him upward, wanting to pleasure him as he was so exquisitely doing to her. He came to his feet, caressing her body every inch of the way and bringing her bliaut up with him. He pulled it over her head and dropped it beside his tunic on the floor. Raina stood before him, naked and unashamed, as his eyes drank her in from head to toe. He made no move to touch her, though his fingers flexed...trembled.
“You are so beautiful,” he rasped. “So beautiful.”
Hesitantly, he met her gaze, as if he yet expected her to reject him. Raina smiled and extended her hand. He grasped it firmly, hauling her against him, the look in his eyes pure exultation. Splaying his hand at her back, he held her close, kissing her and moving his thigh between her legs until his desire surged full and hard between them.
“God help me, Raina, I want you,” he murmured against her neck. “I want this.”
Her knees gave way beneath her as Gunnar swept her into his arms and placed her on the bed. He stood beside her, his heavy-lidded eyes holding her gaze as he loosened the ties of his braies and stepped out of them. Her attention slipped to that magnificent male part of him and her eyes widened. She couldn't help it; she gasped.
Gunnar's rich chuckle brought her back to his face. “I-I'm sorry,” she whispered, embarrassed and breathless. “'Tis just...well, I've never--”
“I know,” he said and climbed onto the bed beside her. “Are you afraid?”
“Nay.” She looked to him again, finding it impossible to focus on little else. “Well, mayhap a bit...”
He smiled tenderly. “Give me your hand.”
Raina blinked up at him. She gulped and offered him her hand. He smoothed it down, over the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, into the crisp curls between his thighs. She closed her eyes as her fingers touched the silky strength of his erection, felt it warm and smooth against her palm.
Her breath caught in her throat. Oh, to be touching him so brazenly....
He curled her fingers around the width of him, then slid his hand up her arm, letting her explore him on her own. His sex pulsed in her grasp, so thick and strong, so alive and wondrous. She squeezed him, stroking her fingers up his length and down, marveling at the sheer and thrilling power of him. When he moaned, she stopped abruptly, drawing in her breath.
“Nay, don't stop,” he whispered. “It feels good.”
She was glad of that, for it felt very good to her, too. Raina caressed and experimented with him, learning which movements elicited the most pleasurable sounds and which areas were the most sensitive to her touch. She could have gone on exploring his body and its fascinating responses for hours, but Gunnar stopped her, placing his hand gently over hers.
“You seem to have gotten over your trepidation.” His grin was a wicked one. “Now 'tis my turn to torture you, lamb.”
And what sweet torture it was.
Gunnar kissed nearly every inch of her body, stoking the flames within her to a blazing inferno. His tongue and lips and hands seduced her skillfully, his masterful strokes wringing the most wanton sounds from her lips, and Raina gave in to him with abandon. He pleasured her in ways she had never dared imagine, seeking out her most feminine secrets and claiming them with his fingers, and, heaven help her, his tongue.
His loving torture left her breathless and slick with desire. He intoxicated her, filling her senses with a wild and provocative promise of something more to come...something more wondrous than even this incredible experience. She trembled, pulse quickened, in anticipation of the journey.
Gunnar moved over her then, slipping his hands beneath her back and arching her into his embrace as he kissed her belly, her breasts, her neck, her lips. Dizzy with heightened sensation, Raina knew only that she wanted more. Her hands entwined in the damp, silky hair at his nape and she hungrily pulled him closer. She felt his hand move between them to cup her woman's mound, squeezing and kneading her until she could scarce breathe.
Sparks exploded behind her closed eyelids when his finger began a delectable swirl about that part of her that ached so keenly for his touch. She shuddered, moving unabashedly against his hand as his seductive rhythm intensified. His kiss deepened, matching the ardor of his tender assault on her body.
The power of the first tremor jolted Raina's eyes wide open. Its brilliant warmth seized her very core, clutched her womb, then spread like a hundred tiny raindrops to her limbs. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling, welcoming the pleasure. A wave of glistening light washed over her, then another, as Gunnar caressed her. She wondered suddenly if her body shimmered outwardly as surely as it did inside. She prayed it did, for she wanted Gunnar to know what incredible joy he had given her.
With all her heart, she wanted to do the same for him.
Her eyes fluttered open to find him looking down at her, smiling as if he did feel some measure of her delight. When had he stopped kissing her? Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment to think he had been watching her the entire time. And she could not pray the darkness concealed her shameful indulgence, for the late morning sun blazed full and bright in the room.
He did not seem to mind, in fact he seemed quite pleased, bracing himself above her on one arm and peering down at her.
“That was---” She searched for a word to describe even a fraction of what she felt. “It was...”
“Only the beginning,” he said, and covered her with his body.
The feel of his weight atop her, his crisp chest hairs tickling her nipples, his belly flattened against hers--and the unmistakable evidence of his desire for her pressed firmly against her thigh--rendered her mad with want.
She had heard a woman's first time lying with a man was often unpleasant, but after what she had just experienced, she knew it for a terrible lie. No amount of pain could diminish the joy she had felt in those precious moments, no amount of fear could keep her from wanting him fully. From wanting him inside her. She slid her hands down his back, to his buttocks, pressing him to her, communicating her need.
He groaned, kissing her deeper, and moved his hips until the crown of his sex rested at the mouth of her sheath. He lingered there as he kissed her, tenderly at first, then deeper, moaning as he slid his tip against her wetness. Rocking his hips ever so slightly, he touched her gently yet insistently. She clutched him tighter, urging him to enter her, needing him to claim her.
He broke their kiss, their lips scarcely touching, and whispered, “Are you sure? Because if you want me to stop a moment from now...”
Unable to voice her reply, Raina arched her hips to meet him, looking deep into his eyes and hoping he could see that she had never been more sure of anything before in her life. She closed her eyes and pulled him down, kissing him fully, slipping her tongue between his lips. He accepted it hungrily, hooking his arm under her and bringing her off the mattress as he pushed past the resisting maidenhead.
Raina felt the twinge of mild pain and drew in her breath, but Gunnar held her close, stilling inside her as she adjusted to his presence. The discomfort passed a few moments later, giving way to a pleasing warmth and an exquisite fullness that defied description. Her senses filled with him: the sweetness of wine in his kiss, the velvet softness of his skin, the musky warmth of their bodies together. She smoothed her hands over his back and shoulders, gently moving her hips.
Gunnar's muscles tensed beneath her fingertips and he began to move, very slowly, very gently, rocking against her, filling and withdrawing. He kissed her lips, her chin, her nose, holding her tight to his body, pressing into her until Raina could scarcely discern where she left off and he began.
He loved her tenderly, patiently, easing into her even though his body had become like granite.
She sensed he wanted more, that he awaited an indication of her readiness to accept the full measure of his passion. She clung to him, wrapping her legs about his waist as she pulled him deeply into her.
He needed no more invitation than that.
Gunnar surged into her, thrusting with force enough to touch her very heart. Raina took him in, urged him to go deeper, wanting to feel him lose control, to know that she was the cause. He swore an oath as she met his thrust with one of her own, and Raina watched him rocking above her, his eyes squeezed closed, the muscles in his neck and shoulders taut and hard as stone. He crashed against her, over and over again, his entire body tensing with the effort.
She wanted to study every nuance of the moment, every emotion that played on his face, but the fire rising inside her demanded her attention. It burned hotter than any flame she had felt before, bathing her in a queer liquid heat that she knew would imminently consume her, body and soul.
Gunnar deepened his strokes, coaxing her toward the flames.
Feeling him tense inside her, Raina's fire exploded into an inferno. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth to bite back the cry of ecstasy that threatened to break free.
“Nay, lamb,” he rasped. “Let me hear you. Let me know how I please you.”
His gentle coaxing being all she needed, the cry burst forth from her lips as her very soul seemed to shatter in a million shimmering pieces. All the while he took her higher and higher, thrusting into her trembling body until he, too, cried out with his own release. A soothing warmth spread over her as Gunnar collapsed atop her, his weight an odd comfort despite the knowledge of what she had just relinquished.
And it was not her virtue that she sensed she would miss, but her heart.
Without leaving her body, Gunnar rolled to his side, gathering her into his arms. Raina pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as he stroked her hair. He said naught, and neither did she, both content in the moment and savoring their precious, if fleeting, oneness.
As Raina's breathing slowed to match his, and she drifted to sleep in his arms, she wondered if anyone else had ever known such pleasure.
She truly doubted it.
Chapter 18
Raina woke to feel Gunnar's knuckles softly grazing the slope of her cheek. Blinking her eyes open, she took a moment to adjust, not only to the afternoon sunlight, but also to her new perspective on the man smiling down at her. How could she ever have thought him cruel? This beautiful, rugged face, gazing at her so tenderly could never be considered harsh. Those full lips, curved in a sensual smile, could bring only pleasure.
It was with no small amount of disappointment that she noted he had already dressed.
“How do you feel?” he asked gently.
In truth, she had never felt better, nor more alive. Her body seemed to have come into its own, shedding more than the burden of chastity during their lovemaking. Being with Gunnar like this felt good; it felt right. She smiled. “I feel wonderful.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Only for you,” she said, drawing him toward her for a kiss.
“Ah, have a care, lamb. You'll spoil me.” He pecked her on the nose then pulled her up from the bed. “Come. I've got a basket of food waiting for us in the bailey. Let's leave this place for a while.”
Raina nearly sprang from the bed, hurriedly donning her bliaut and following him outside.
A short while later, they were deep in the woods on his destrier, nearing the far edge of the pond. Gunnar reined in where a great old willow arced to form a canopy of dripping, silvery leaves. The thick bough stretched out over the embankment, its frondy streamers just barely skimming the surface of the water. Wildflowers and soft forest moss perfumed the light summer breeze. Overhead a robin trilled its song.
“What a beautiful place,” Raina mused as Gunnar dismounted then lifted her to the ground. “It feels like paradise here, so secluded and peaceful. So different from Norworth--”
She bit back the comparison a moment too late. It lingered on her tongue, bitter as bile. How she hated to make mention of that place now, to admit the stain of her relationship to a man capable of such atrocity. But before she could stammer an apology for calling up a reminder of the past, Gunnar was grasping her hand and pulling her into his embrace.
He lowered his mouth to hers and captured her lips in a wild, soulful kiss that chased away her gloom and despair like a balm to a burn. “This is paradise,” he murmured against the delicate skin of her throat. “And this...”
His mouth drifted lower, his tongue exploring the curve and dip of her bosom, teasing the sensitive crevice between her breasts while his hands roved freely, kneading and caressing her until she nearly swooned in his arms. Too soon he broke away, growling his reluctance. “Now come with me, before I ravish you where you stand. I mean to make the day last.”
Dizzy with longing and willing to submit to him wholly, Raina followed when he grasped her hand and led her to the water's edge. He turned abruptly and kissed her again, deeper than he had before, as if he could scarcely keep from claiming her mouth.
And the hunger she tasted on his lips was even more evident in his smoldering eyes. He removed her gown, taking the same care one might when unveiling a priceless, holy relic. His own tunic he stripped off and flung to the ground, hose and braies following in like fashion.
Unclothed and fully aroused, he asked, “Does the thought of bathing with me now frighten you as it did the other day?”
Sweet Mary, but he sounded almost hopeful, postured with his arms crossed over his chest and feet spread shoulder-wide like some bold pagan conqueror. There was something quite endearing in such a blatant display of masculine arrogance and Raina fought hard to keep from giggling. Instead, she smiled coyly then let her gaze travel the length of him with deliberate, languid cool, pausing midway to admire the sheer magnificence of his naked body. He was grinning like a cat in the cream by the time she met his eyes.
“Do I look frightened, my lord?” she answered at last, full of playful challenge.
He laughed aloud at that, a hearty bark of humor that warmed her to her soul. “Nay, you saucy, wanton wench!” he exclaimed. “I should say you don't. But you might at least pretend and spare a man his pride.”
With that, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the pond, their mingled laughter reverberating over the surface of the water. Waist-high, he set her down on her feet. Raina felt a keen sting as soon as the water reached the tenderness between her legs and she sucked in her breath.
Gunnar winced, hugging her close. “I'm sorry, lamb. Does it pain you much?”
She shook her head; already the discomfort was passing.
“Damnation,” he muttered, “I had no right--”
“I gave myself to you willingly,” she interjected, stopping him before he apologized further for what had been the most heavenly hours of her life. “You had the right because I gave it to you. Because I wanted to.”
He exhaled a weighty sigh before his lips met hers. His kiss was tender, achingly sweet, but it tasted of remorse and she wanted to weep. “Ah, Raina,” he whispered, “I didn't deserve so precious a gift. You should have been able to share your first time with your husband one day, not me.”
That stung worse than any physical damage she might have suffered in loving him. She couldn't bear the thought of being without him now, or the prospect of being intimate with another man. But Gunnar was a warrior, accustomed to battles and fighting, not the sort of man to make designs for a family and a future. Least of all with the daughter of his sworn enemy.
And even if he were, her father's plans for her had been set long ago. For most of her adult life, he had kept her squirreled away at Norworth, guarding her chastity like the king guarded his gold, waiting until he found the right match for her. A match that would bring more lands and wealth to the d'Bussy purse. He had made no secret of his hopes that she would marry a political man, someone with ties to the royal court.
With a shudder, Raina recalled the aging earls and lascivious barons her father had entertained at the castle, recalled too, her father's angry lectures after she had rebuffed t
heir attempts at flirtation, even going so far as to empty a cup of wine on one man's fine silk tunic when he had the temerity to reach under the table and squeeze her thigh.
Suddenly Dorcas's suggestion of a few days before--that she try to persuade Gunnar to keep her--didn't seem quite so preposterous. More than anything she had ever wanted before, she yearned to remain with Gunnar. Forever, out here in paradise where she felt whole. Where she felt a vital part of something positive and true.
Where she felt at home.
But she would not beg him, nor burden him with her problems. She had only a precious handful of days before Gunnar was to meet with her father and she planned to cherish every moment. Damming her tears with iron-clad determination, she faced him. “My lord, we agreed not to speak of tomorrows or regrets. Pray, don't disappoint me with talk of them now.”
He kissed her palm. “Anything to please you, my lady.”
“Very well,” she replied with a light-heartedness she truly didn't feel. “Then indulge me in a race. I expect you are a passable swimmer?”
He chuckled. “Passable, aye. My father often joked that I was born with gills.”
“Indeed? Well, my lord tadpole, I hope you are a charitable loser. If you had looked closer this morning you might have noticed that my feet are webbed.”
“Mmm, I was meaning to ask you about that,” he teased.
Raina pushed him, laughing as she wriggled out of his reach and began to swim away. “The goal is the far side of the pond. Winner names a boon!”
She swam as hard as she could, kicking and pulling long strokes through the water, using her head start to full advantage and making excellent time. The finish well in sight, she glanced behind her.
No Gunnar.
Where had he gone? Treading water, she spun around, searching for any sign of him. When she looked back to the adjacent shore, a twinge of disappointment--and surprise--shot through her.