The Spymaster's Protection

by S A Monk

  Forcing himself to release her, he hurriedly gathered their scattered clothing, then came back to her, and with a low growl, scooped her up into his arms. After dropping the wet clothing onto her lap, he strode through the chamber and the corridor with her. Along the way, he grabbed the torch he had stuck into a crevice in the rock wall.

  Gabrielle hung on with one arm hooked around his neck and one arm securing their clothing. His haste made her smile and she buried her face in the salty wet curve of his neck.

  In the cavern where they had camped, Lucien set her on his feet, secured the torch in the wall, then blew it out, and quickly returned. Gabrielle watched him, enchanted by his eagerness for her. Dear Lord! No man had ever looked at her so tenderly and yet so desirously.

  She untied the drawstring on her low-hanging pants and eased out of them. Then she turned to drape their wet clothing over a large boulder near the embers of their dying fire.

  When she turned back around to Lucien, she lifted her eyes slowly, nervously aware of her nudity. He, too, had dispensed with his wet braies.

  She watched him close the space between them and felt herself simmering with need. It was absolutely new to her! She had never wanted this before! Coupling had brought only fear and pain.

  But her heart told her there wouldn’t be any pain with this man, despite his great size. Through a haze of anticipation, she saw his proud manhood thrusting rigidly from the dark curly thatch of hair at his groin. Thank God, Reynald had not been this large! Combined with his brutality….

  Lord, she did not want to think of her loathsome husband ever again! He had ceased being her husband the day he had first lifted a hand to her. There was no adultery here. She had not felt married in a very, very long time.

  This man was all she would ever need to feel whole and fulfilled. She whispered his name as he stepped up to her. His arms slipped around her with a sigh of profound relief.

  “From the moment you first said my name, and I saw how it formed on your lips, I have wanted to kiss you when you said it. Say it for me again.”

  She answered his plea, and his mouth swooped down to capture hers. Groaning, he slid hot and slow between her teeth. The swirl of his tongue against hers felt absolutely decadent. He kissed her as if he was starving for the taste of her, and Gabrielle tasted back, melting into his ever-tightening embrace.

  Slowly, he sank to his knees before her, kissing her as he went. Gabrielle shivered with pleasure as his mouth began its sensuous trek. He didn’t linger long in any one place, but set her to breathtaking anticipation of the next spot his skillful lips would explore.

  His large hands nearly circled her waist as he lowered his mouth to her hips. Gabrielle gasped when his knuckles brushed the triangle of hair between her legs. This was another first, and she wasn’t sure what to do. He gave her no quarter and no time to debate with herself before he opened her legs and grasped her buttocks.

  Then his mouth and tongue found her. She wanted to die of embarrassment and pleasure all at the same time.

  “Lucien?”

  “Shhh…. Let it happen, my love,” he murmured, his words muffled against her lower body.

  “Oh, Lord….” She cried out again as a bolt of white hot desire shot through her.

  His tongue found the little nub of desire he had so skillfully stroked the other night. Again and again, he probed and tasted, coaxing her acceptance of his lovemaking with tender caresses and whispered encouragements that vibrated through her loins in shock waves of mind-numbing pleasure.

  Gabrielle could not resist. Quivering, she wove her fingers into his thick damp hair and curled them around his head to clutch him close. Without willing it so, her hips began to rotate and rock, responding instinctively to the throbbing that intensified moment by moment. She knew what she was striving for now; that little death Lucien had already shown her once.

  It teased the fringes of her consciousness, but she didn’t want to go there without him. “Lucien, please! I need you inside of me this time.”

  His deep husky growl sent shock waves through her loins, all the way to her toes. Trembling like a leaf now, she collapsed to her knees in front of him. He caught her and eased her backwards onto their blankets.

  “God, how I want you, Gabi!” he groaned as he came down on top of her, between her legs. “I’ve been aching for you for weeks.”

  The slip and slide of their damp bodies was delicious. Gabrielle arched beneath him and clutched him as tightly as she could. He did not have to ask her to open her legs wider for him. She urged him with words and gestures to enter her immediately. In truth, she was surprised to find herself going a little wild beneath him. She had not thought desire could drive a woman so, especially not her.

  She heard him chuckle and knew he felt her urgency and was pleased by it. Tilting her hips up to him as the maddening crescendo threatened to overtake her, she cried out with relief when he slid into her with one deep smooth stroke. Arching into him, she rose to meet his every thrust after that, clinging to him with her legs hugging his hips, digging her nails into his hard-as-rocks buttocks.

  “You hold me so tight,” he murmured against her ear. “Mon Dieu! You feel good around me, so good….”

  Gabrielle smiled, then gasped as he began to pump himself into her faster and harder. She cried out again, teetering on an abyss of pleasure so deep, she thought she truly might die from it. She was dizzy with it. The world felt as if it was spinning faster than she could cope with, but it was like flying, as well; like soaring far above the earth.

  And she was not alone. Lucien was there with her, holding on tight, whispering endearments, guiding her to a perfect state of being. With a cry of joy, she spun away with him. Her cry was followed almost instantly by his husky male shout as his big body spasmed and shuddered.

  Then to her great dismay, he jerked out of her, spilling his seed onto her belly. When he collapsed on top of her, she wrapped her arms around him and stroked his head, then his back until he stopped his violent quaking.

  For a long time, his breathing was labored and ragged. He had spent himself with such a great deal of emotion, Gabrielle wondered if their lovemaking had done this to him, or if it had simply been his abstinence. She was compelled to ask.

  “It has been a long time,” he confirmed. “Nearly six years. When I was in Damascus, I was not always faithful to my vows.” Pushing up on his arms, he eased off of her and shifted to lie next to her, on his side. “Living on my own for so long …. Well,” he said with a self-derisive chuckle. “It was hard to resist temptation sometimes.”

  “Arabian women can be very beautiful with all their silks and dark kohl painted eyes.” Gabrielle tried to hide her disappointment that it had not been her alone that had driven him to such a forceful spending of his body.

  His long, well-tapered fingers idly stroked the slender length of her bare arm. “Not as beautiful as you, Gabi. I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you.”

  She rolled her eyes and frowned. “Now you exaggerate.”

  “I do not.” His face was a dark mask of solemnity as he captured her chin and turned her face toward him. “I have never reacted this strongly to another woman, Gabi.”

  His hand moved down to stroke the tempting shape of one long curvaceous leg as he reached to pull their blankets up over their rapidly cooling bodies. Snuggling into the crook of his arm and shoulder, Gabrielle settled against him. With her fingertip, she outlined the full soft curve of his lower lip. “You did not need to pull out of me when you spilled your seed,” she told him gravely. “I cannot have children. I am barren.” Surely, now he would be disgusted.

  “How so? Has a doctor told you that? An Arabian doctor? Frank doctors know nothing of this, not even the Brothers of Saint John.”

  “No doctor was consulted when I lost my child, but I never conceived again, so something went wrong inside me.” Tears began to fill her eyes and slide down her cheeks. She turned her head away from him to hide her regret and
anguish.

  “What happened?”

  The concern in his voice nearly made her break down completely. “I was sixteen. I was eight months pregnant. After two years of being married to Reynald, I finally conceived. I guess he was happy, but he has grown children, so he never said one way or the other. He got angry at me one day for not showing proper respect to his guests. After they left, he began shouting at me, hitting me. I fell down the stairs and lost my babe. It was horrendous. I nearly died from the hemorrhaging. I never conceived again.”

  “The whoreson! May God take his immortal soul and find a deep pit in hell for him!”

  “I have often prayed for that,” Gabrielle admitted, finally overcome by her tears.

  Lucien’s sympathy was both a blessing and a bane. She could not hold back the painful memories or her unforgotten sorrow. She had wanted a child so badly! And she’d not only lost it, but all ability to have more. Her tears flowed freely, and for a long while nothing she could say to herself seemed to halt them. Damnation, why had she brought up the past? Their lovemaking had been so beautiful. “I’ve spoiled it…” she cried softly.

  “You haven’t,” he whispered in her ear tenderly. “Nothing could spoil it.” He gathered her in his arms and simply held her as she cried, knowing that if he ever got the opportunity to kill Reynald de Châtillon, he would do so in a heartbeat.

  +++

  Lucien felt the warm ray of the rising sun as it slanted through the sky hole and radiated down across the lower half of his body, and yet it was not nearly as warm as the woman curled asleep in his arms. Her body heat enveloped him as no blanket ever could.

  They had made love throughout the night, and each time had been sweeter than the last. He didn’t want to rise from their bed on the soft sand, and he refused to open his eyes to morning’s call. For the first time in his life, he decided to indulge his own desires for the day. His further assessment of Saladin’s troops could wait one more day. Today, he was not leaving Gabrielle’s side.

  As if in approval of his silent decision, she snuggled more firmly against him, wedging her backside into his hips. Her long hair touched him everywhere, the loose cascade of curls falling around her like a mantle, soft as silk against his underarms, tickling his chest and groin, even teasing his bare buttocks. His cheek rested against it, his nose nuzzled into the fragrant mass of gold-shot confection.

  He felt her wiggle again, and the rounded cheeks of her bare bottom settled into the shape of him. Already aroused, he pressed himself between her buttocks and rocked against her once.

  The hand he had thrown over her side found the full round globe of her breast through the strands of her long hair. For a slender woman, she had surprising full breasts, and he had thoroughly enjoyed them last night. They were velvety soft and remarkably sensitive, their pale pink buds puckering with the slightest touch or kiss.

  He played with the one that was not resting against the forearm he had curled around her, squeezing it gently, running his callused thumb back and forth over its peak, lifting it slightly to caress its enticing weight. She made a purring sound of approval and pushed back against him yet again, cradling his swollen staff perfectly between her rounded cheeks.

  Lucien groaned silently, tortured by her drowsy responses to him. He thought about making love to her from his position behind her, but worried that she might not be ready for that. She needed to come to trust him just a little more. No doubt Reynald had used her brutally. For men like him, sodomy was second nature.

  Determined to erase every terrible experience Gabrielle had suffered physically at Reynald’s hands, Lucien contented himself with snuggling close.

  As if she were attuned to his thoughts yet again, she turned toward him, wedged an arm beneath him, and pressed her breasts to his chest in a tight embrace.

  Lucien felt the full impact of her frontal assault with every nerve ending. From shoulders to ankles, her soft, warm, naked skin rubbed against his in a sublime flood of pleasure. With a little moan, she pushed her knee between his, bringing her pelvis into hot contact with his groin.

  Lucien had long since opened his eyes, but Gabrielle still had hers closed. Her semblance of sleep was belied, though, by the mischievous smile that partially curved her luscious mouth.

  Lucien moved his hand to curve around her bottom and began a gentle circular rubbing that elicited another purring sound from her. When she reciprocated with a stroking of his back, from the base of his spine to his shoulder blades, he shifted her beneath him and slid between her soft warm thighs.

  His engorged shaft sought the swollen moistness of her sheath almost automatically. As he slipped inside of her, her eyes opened slowly with a soft sleepy smile. His name hovered on her lips, and he bent his head to kiss her awake. His plunging tongue kept pace with his lower body, beginning with a slow, sensual glide in and out, then increasing the rhythm to match his growing desire for her.

  Pinned beneath him, but by no means unhappy about it, Gabrielle rocked her hips to keep pace with his plunging body. Winding her arms and legs around him, she matched his movements in perfect unison. After their repeated lovemaking last night, she was learning his desires, and she revealed in giving him back as much pleasure as he gave her.

  It had been five years since she had coupled, and she was a bit sore, but Lucien was a consummately considerate lover. He had explored her entire body and read every nuance of its reaction to him, his responses completely attuned to her. Gabrielle had never imagined a man could be so sensitive to a woman. It still amazed her that a monk, vowed to celibacy, could be. She imagined he must have had a very skilled teacher somewhere along the way. Either that or he was a naturally sensual, intuitive man.

  By the time he finished with her, Gabrielle fell back against her pallet, completely sated and wonderfully awake. She had never slept beside a man and awoken to him in the morning. Reynald had always done the deed and left her alone, of which she had been infinitely grateful. But sleeping in Lucien’s arms, then waking beside him had been indescribably wonderful.

  Turning to him, she saw that he was on his side, his dark head propped in his hand, his even darker eyes watching her.

  The held something she was afraid to label; it was so intimate and tender. It stole her breath.

  “You are so beautiful, my Gabrielle,” he murmured. “You addle my wits and steal my breath away.”

  Her lashes fell over her sparkling blue eyes and a blush rose on her cheeks. “I was just thinking the very same thing about you.”

  He laughed. “Then we shall spend the day together addled and breathless.’

  Her eyes snapped open in surprise. “You are not going out again to scout the sultan’s troops?”

  He shook his dark head and reached out to caress her cheek. “I am going to indulge myself and spend the day with you. The Saracens I saw yesterday are going nowhere. Saladin has called his faithful to arms, and they will muster between here and Damascus, I believe, to await his arrival. Besides, I have heard of a hot spring that bubbles up here and there in this network of interconnected caverns.”

  “So you want to go exploring today?” she asked with delight.

  “If it pleases you.”

  “It would be fun.”

  Again, he was compelled to laugh. “Then that’s how we shall spend the day— exploring, among other things,” he added with a wicked lift of on dark eyebrow.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Lucien, there it is!” Gabrielle cried with delight. “We have finally found it.”

  He laughed, thinking he had not laughed so much in as long as he could remember; maybe not even as a boy growing up on the war-torn frontiers of southern Iberia. “So, we have, Gabi. Finally, we will enjoy a warm bath.”

  They had searched the extensive cavern the past couple of hours and found the tiny warm pool in the farthest reaches, it seemed. The room was small, but tall enough to stand in. Without the torch, it would have been completely dark.

  Lucien stuck it in
a crevice close to the pool and began undressing. Gabrielle took her cue from him. Since he removed all his clothing, she did, too. He had already tested the water to make sure it was not too hot. After laying their garments on a flat-topped rock, they went into the water together. Lucien held her hand tightly, helping her find her footing. Thankfully, the water was not too deep and there was a partially submerged rock ledge on which to sit.

  Gabrielle did not really know how to swim, so she let Lucien test the depth of the center of the pool while she sat down to watch him. When he got to the middle, he disappeared below the dark surface so suddenly, she cried out in alarm, thinking he had been pulled under or lost his footing in a hole.

  She was on the verge of diving in after him when he broke the surface with a laugh. She then realized that he had simply played a trick on her and scolded him with a swipe of water that splashed him in the face.

  “That was cruel! I thought something was truly amiss!”

  He stood, and she saw that the water came to his armpits. “I am sorry, fair lady. I could not resist teasing you a bit. This is as deep as it gets.”

  She watched him rake his long black hair back from his brow with both hands. The play of muscles the movement caused across his chest and biceps transfixed her. It stirred to life desires that had last been sated but hours ago. “What is the source of the hot water?” she asked with breathless curiosity.

  He walked toward her, and she was next captivated by the increasing exposure of his magnificent body. “It is a small crevice at the bottom of the pool. It is probably an underground spring that bubbles up into this small rocky depression.” He gave her a wickedly mischievous grin. “You must come get completely wet with me.”