The Unlovely Bride (Brides of Karadok Book 2)

by Alice Coldbreath

  “Open your legs, Lenora.”

  She was more hesitant over that one, but fall open they did, though her eyes sought his for reassurance in the dim light. He could have cursed the blankets for impeding his view, but he could hardly throw them off on such a bitter night. His own body felt like a furnace, as he settled between her legs, and lowered his mouth to one perfect breast. She whimpered and jolted against him as he sucked it into his voracious mouth. Now he was groaning as he tongued her nipple, rubbing his hard cock against her soft belly. Fuck. He was going to spill his seed at this rate which was rather messier than the bit of kissing and fondling she’d asked for. He doubted an extremely virginal Lenora Montmayne was ready for his seed all over her smooth white belly or that luscious round ass of hers. Still, he thought dimly, for a girl who despised wet kisses, she had swallowed his tongue readily enough.

  She panted, her hands clutching fretfully at his shoulders. “Ohhh! Oh Garman.” She shuddered. He lifted his head. Was she…? He slid one hand between her legs and caught his breath.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not as prejudiced as you against wet lips,” he said huskily, slipping a finger inside her drenched folds. Lenora gave a muffled sound somewhere between a shriek and a squeak. Her legs stiffened and he slid one finger right up inside her, but even as she uttered a sound of discomfort, his thumb sought out her hidden pearl. “How does that feel?”

  She panted and twisted beneath him. “What a strange question—oh!”

  “What’s strange about it?” he asked, stroking his finger. “This is where my cock wants to be, but I don’t think you’re ready for that, more’s the pity.”

  She dragged in a ragged breath. “I am aware of the mechanics,” she said in a voice of strangled dignity that would be amusing if he did not feel quite so edgy with need. “But I—” She broke off with a sob. “Have I—?”

  “What?”

  “Wet myself?” she asked in a voice that shook.

  “No, sweetheart,” he replied raggedly. He guessed her mother really hadn’t spoken to her. “This wetness here, is your body readying itself to join with mine. This is how you make me fit.”

  He could almost hear her listening to this. “Oh,” she said again, this time doubtful, but wondering.

  “Give me your mouth again,” he ordered. Lenora shuddered, then pressed her lips to his. This time when he deepened the kiss, she was anticipating it, and welcomed the invasive thrust of his tongue with a deep moan that made him feel almost frenzied.

  He pushed his finger deep into her and found it gripped in such a fluttering tight sheath that his cock pulsed with envy. This time, Lenora tore her mouth from his. “Garman!” she exclaimed, her tone so panicked that he realized her crisis was almost on her and crushed his mouth against hers to muffle her hoarse cries. If anyone else but he overheard the sounds she made in the throes of pleasure, he would have to kill them, he realized dimly. These sounds were just for him.

  He lay tense against her body as it clenched and quivered around him, his thumb circling against her little button, wringing every last drop of astonished pleasure from her until all her limbs relaxed and she released her death grip on him and fell back limp against the mattress. He focused on her sobbed breath, the rise and fall of her chest as her rapture faded. Then he did a very odd thing. Ignoring his rock-hard cock, which was on the point of exploding, he very carefully kissed both her eyelids and all the way down the line of her jaw. He had no earthly idea why. He just knew he had to. She gave a gasp, and if she wasn’t wrung out like a limp rag, he knew she would have stiffened or objected to this strange gesture. Luckily, such actions were beyond her right now, as for some reason, it was imperative for him to run the tip of his tongue over the imperfect skin and then kiss her soundly on the mouth.

  “You won’t like this part,” he told her tensely. “I apologize in advance.”

  He felt her questioning gaze but was pleased that she did not protest or try to pull away, as he shifted down her body and shoved her shift up out of his way. Then he took himself in hand and with harsh groans he pumped his cock and released his seed all over her belly and her perfect cunt. When he was done, he fell back on his haunches and fought hard against the ignoble impulse to snatch up the remaining candle and take a good look at his glistening handiwork. For some reason, he was suddenly desperate to see the blonde hair between her legs mingled with his seed. For now, he merely contented himself with staring his fill in the murky light and catching his breath. Mercifully, she made no move to close her legs or push him away. Finally, he was able to tear his eyes away and found Lenora watching him in perfect silence.

  “Don’t move,” he said thickly, and climbed off the cot to go and fetch what was left of the water and a cloth. “This will be cold, I’m afraid,” he added in a gravelly voice. “But if I don’t clean you off now, you won’t thank me in the morning.” He moistened the cloth and set about cleaning the mess he’d made of her. Lenora lay as meek as a lamb, but he felt her eyes on him the whole time.

  “Something to say?” he was forced to ask in the end as he placed the bowl and cloth back on the table.

  She licked her lips and he felt a twitch of renewed interest that surprised him so soon. “Why did you say I wouldn’t like that part?” she asked curiously.

  Garman’s eyes widened. Well… fuck.

  17

  Garman woke suddenly around five to the sound of rain. He lay a moment in perfect stillness trying to assimilate himself to both his unfamiliar surroundings and a nagging feeling of unease. Then he remembered and turned hot then cold all over. He had, had sexual congress with his wife. Nay, hardly that. A bit of touching and fondling, nothing more. He glanced down at the blonde hair spread over his chest.

  She had been practically sprawled across him when he drifted off to sleep. Apparently, they had not moved so much as an inch which was a miracle in itself. Usually Garman could not bear to be even touching with a bedmate when he slept. That’s why he always sent them on their way before he settled down to sleep.

  Then something else struck him. Lenora had not woken him with her nightmares. For some reason, that also unnerved him, he could not say why. Except… if she was coming to rely on him, then he needed to put a stop to that. Right now.

  Abruptly, he set about extricating himself from Lenora’s sleeping embrace. She shifted over him with an exclamation of annoyance, burying her face in his chest. He persevered, sliding her sideways off his body and had to dodge a blow to the face from a flailing hand. With a sudden gasp, Lenora twisted away from him and sat up. Then she started grappling with the blankets.

  “What are you doing?” he asked sharply. Even in the dim light, he could see she was still half-asleep.

  “I need to relieve myself,” she answered, throwing her legs over the side of the cot. “Where are my slippers?”

  “You need to put your boots on,” he told her. “The grass will be wet.”

  “Grass?” Lenora looked around at him in confusion.

  He knew she was still half-asleep. With an irritated sigh, Garman climbed out of the bed and started dragging on some undergarments. “We’re in a field, remember?”

  She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “So, that’s what that sound is.” She glanced up at the ceiling. “Will it come through?”

  “Depends how heavy the downpour is. Come.” He held up his cloak above his head.

  “I’m not dressed.”

  “You need to take a—to empty your bladder, not attend a feast,” he reminded her.

  “I can’t go out like this,” Lenora protested, looking down at her abused shift. The neckline was torn in one place from his none-so tender treatment. He had to remind himself not to ogle as she adjusted it to provide as much coverage as possible.

  “No-one will see us.”

  She finished pulling on her boots. “Are you sure I shouldn’t put more clothes on? What if we run across anyone else?”

  “At this hour? They’d only be about the same
business.” He gave an impatient gesture. “Come. Get under this cloak.”

  Lenora walked over to him grudgingly. “You don’t need to come with me.”

  “You’re not going outside half-dressed without me,” he answered firmly.

  “Well, I’m not going to… pee in front of you!” she objected in scandalized tones.

  “Why not?” he asked, pushing the entrance aside for her. “You’ve seen me do it.”

  “What? I did not!”

  “When you showed up in my bedchamber back at Aphrany.”

  “I didn’t see anything! You had just tucked it away,” she argued, then caught herself up.

  He had to bite back a smile in the dark. “I won’t look. I’ll just hold the cloak up so you don’t get wet. Head straight in front of you to that line of trees.”

  Lenora walked unsteadily in the direction he’d specified. “Ugh!” she complained and caught at the hem of her shift to hold it above her knees. “The grass is sopping wet!”

  He didn’t answer, just walked behind her until they approached the cover of the outskirts of the wood. “Here,” he said.

  “What?” She whipped her head round.

  “Squat down here.”

  “Squat?” Lenora squeaked. “I will not!”

  “Lenora, if you will come to a rural tournament,” he pointed out bluntly. “You’ll have to take a piss among the trees. You were the one who asked to come.”

  “It’s not—taking a piss among the trees!” she whispered in outraged tones. “It’s taking a piss at my husband’s feet I object to!”

  He lifted an eyebrow at her, then realized she would barely make out his features in this light. “It would take more than that to put me off, I assure you.” Now why had he said that, he wondered? He had meant to say it would take more than that to shock him.

  “I can’t do it,” she said obstinately. “I won’t. You’ll have to stand here and let me just wander off a few yards.”

  For a moment, he considered reminding her where his fingers had been only a few hours previously. Then he decided against it. “You’re not wandering off anywhere without me,” he said instead curtly. “It’s dark and we’re surrounded by strangers.”

  He heard her frustrated huff, and then, quite suddenly, she dropped down, grumbling and bunching her skirts. “Kindly whistle a tune or something.”

  He held the cloak aloft. “Really? What if that attracts more attention?”

  “Is your whistling really that impressive?”

  “Lenora, would you just…”

  “Oh, very well!” she said hastily. When she sprang back up moments later, he was sure her face was flaming even though he couldn’t see clear enough to tell. “Do you need to—um—?”

  He snorted. “Why, are you going to hold the cloak over my head?”

  “Why not?”

  “You could barely reach,” he pointed out, handing over the cloak anyway. Then he took a few steps away and turned his back to her. He heard her gasp and spin around to face the opposite way as he unfastened himself. Maidenly modesty was a very strange thing, he reflected. Not four hours ago she had told him she had not disliked his decorating her with his seed. Now a glimpse of his cock seemed something to be avoided at all cost.

  “It hardly seems fair,” she mused suddenly, surprising him. “That the whole operation is so much simpler for men.”

  He grunted, tucking himself back in. “Come on.” He grabbed the cloak in one hand and her in the other and they made their way back to their tent, jostling and bumping against one another as they tried to ward off the rain.

  “I do hope it stops soon,” she said anxiously. “What time do they usually bring around the washing water and any refreshment?”

  “Not for a while,” he admitted. “The banqueting would have lasted long into the night.” Near the tent, she tripped on something and almost fell, and he was forced to wrap an arm around her waist to steady her. “You’re shivering. Get back into bed,” he said as they ducked back inside.

  “I intend to.” He heard a rustle and realized she had pulled her shift up over her head as he saw the white garment drift down onto one of the chairs. Quickly he turned his head, but she was already disappearing under the covers. “Horrid wet thing was wrapping around my ankles,” she mumbled through teeth that chattered. “Aren’t you coming back to bed?”

  He hadn’t intended to. He knew he wouldn’t sleep now, yet for some reason, he hesitated. She was cold and needed him to warm her up. He stripped down to his braies and climbed in beside her. Immediately, Lenora huddled against him. He found his arms closing around her. “You’re a mass of gooseflesh.”

  “I know. You didn’t have to crouch with cold, wet grass brushing your bare arse!”

  He bit back a laugh. How long, he wondered, would she continue to surprise him? Almost without thought, he slid his hands lower to cup her backside. “These buttocks should never suffer such indignities,” he said huskily.

  She gave a smothered chuckle. “Sometimes you are almost droll, Garman Orde. I’ve remarked on it before, have I not?” she said. When he did not answer, she pressed her face to his chest.

  It couldn’t be comfortable sleeping like that, he pondered moments later as he felt her drift off to sleep. Yet this was the second time she had managed it. He felt her limbs go limp and heavy as she slumped against him. For some reason, that filled him with a strange satisfaction. Why was that? he wondered uneasily. The fact she was comfortable enough to sleep against him naked was also oddly pleasing on some level; he had no idea why. Gently, he stroked a thumb against the indentation of her waist.

  He liked how warm her voice was when she was pleased or amused. It flowed through him like a fine wine, making him light-headed and relaxed. Her hair was silky soft where it brushed against his skin. Almost, he wanted to run his fingers through it. If he was another man, an affectionate sort of man, he would give in to the temptation. He lifted his hand, then lowered it again. He was not that man, he reminded himself with a frown. No matter how much she might want him to be.

  He wanted intimacy with her all right, but not this kind of intimacy. Physical closeness was all very well and good, so long as she did not start confusing it with another kind of closeness. He swore silently and stared into the darkness. Of course, she would. She was a woman. He had taken a misstep somewhere along the way with her, he thought, frowning, else she would not be curling into him like this, making jokes, calling him ‘droll’ whatever the fuck that meant and cuddling with him.

  And it was not only her. What the fuck was he doing, tickling her waist and holding her in his arms like this? He shifted uneasily, moving his hands behind his head. He was the one confusing the issue, as he was the one taking the lead in their interaction. Lenora was clueless about men and how men and women should interact. What the fuck had he been thinking? He had even for a moment held her hand outside in the dark, like some kind of lovesick swain. What the fuck was that about? He glanced down at the blonde head on his chest. She was a pleasing armful, but she needed to know her place. Which was in his bed and on his cock, but even so, that did not mean they were friends or companions or anything other than he determined.

  And on the morrow, he would have to steel himself to make as much plain to her.

  18

  Lenora woke to the low murmur of voices. She sat up and found washing water had arrived from the house and was being set down on the small table. Garman was up and half-dressed already. As soon as the servants left, he began sloshing the water around, washing his neck and face.

  “Good morning,” Lenora said, stretching and rubbing her eyes. He glanced over his shoulder at her but did not speak. “What time is your first event?” When he did not answer, she shrugged, guessing he could not hear her above his ministrations, the washcloth wrapped around his neck muffling his ears. Instead she fell to braiding her hair so it was tidily out of the way when it was her turn at the basin. Once this was done, she drew back the blankets, in
tending to climb out of the bed when he forestalled her.

  “Don’t bother rising yet,” he told her abruptly. “I’ve told them to bring you food and drink out here to break your fast.”

  “Oh.” Lenora looked up at him a moment. “That was thoughtful, thank you.”

  His eyelids flickered. “It will be easier for me to get ready if you remain where you are. There’s not much room.”

  “I see,” Lenora replied carefully, finally noticing that something about his tone was decidedly off this morning. He sounded somehow surly and confrontational and she wondered at it, drawing her feet back into the bed.

  Although he did not turn his head to look at her as he moved about the tent retrieving his armor and weaponry, she could tell he was avoiding her. The truth was, that his gaze would have fallen on her a dozen times quite naturally if he had not been so studiously ignoring her. Lenora considered this as she watched him retrieve his shield from under the spare bunk.

  “Will you break your fast here with me?” she asked politely.

  “I would have thought the answer obvious. I will not.”

  Bad tempered was one thing, but now he just sounded bored, she realized with dismay. With her? Already?

  “You’re off to the main house then,” she observed. He did not answer, but instead shrugged an irritable shoulder. “Am I to come and watch you compete later on?”

  “Lenora,” he said, turning to look her full in the face for the first time that morning. “Just because I had my fingers between your legs last night, does not mean we are now joined at the hip.”

  Lenora felt her face fall and a ridiculous sensation of disappointment flood her, and something more. It felt rather like hurt feelings, which made no earthly sense. Clearly, he was being as offensive as possible to try and mortify her. But why would he want to do that? Unless, a voice whispered in her ear, this was just his usual practice. After all, likely he turned out all the wenches he’d bedded the next morning and she was just getting a taste of that. He couldn’t very well turn out his own wife, so she was getting the next best thing.