“Yes, I know. It seems seeing you like that inspires lust in me.”
The belt slid between his fingers and his sword clattered to the floor.
Both turned their heads sharply as they heard footsteps scuffling at the entrance to their tent. “I’ve brought washing water for you, sir.”
To Lenora’s mortification she recognized her cousin’s voice and quickly retreated to the far side of the pavilion, hoping profoundly he had not heard her.
Garman cleared his throat. “Enter.”
Kit ducked in the tent carrying a large jug of steaming water. Lenora wondered if Cuthbert had put the idea into his head. Considering he was hardly known for his humility, he carried the hot water over to the table as meek as a lamb.
“Good of you,” Garman grunted.
Kit nodded, picked up the sword belt from the floor and sat down on the spare bed. He looked over at Lenora. “Had a good morning?” he asked, seemingly oblivious to the underlying tension.
“Er yes,” she agreed feebly, and made her way over to a chair to collapse in.
“You’ll never guess at the upset in the jousting this morning,” he carried on with relish.
“She doesn’t need to guess,” Garman interrupted harshly as he poured water into the bowl.
“I watched the first joust with Eden,” Lenora explained.
Kit winced. “Did she ring a peal over your head for eloping?”
“You forget we are the same age,” Lenora frowned. “And raised as sisters.”
“She could lecture a bishop, that one,” Kit snorted.
Lenora opened her mouth to remonstrate with him, as she heard Garman’s muffled laugh. A quick glance showed her his head was covered in a washcloth. “Eden is—”
“Yes, yes,” cut in Kit hurriedly. “Don’t you start. I know you are both thick as thieves.”
“Then don’t say something to provoke my wrath,” Lenora replied smartly. “I won’t have Eden bad-mouthed in my presence.”
“Lord,” muttered Kit under his breath.
“And anyway, she did not even attempt to reproach me. She only wanted to assure herself that all is well with me.” She felt Garman’s eyes on her but did not look his way again. “How have you spent your morning, cousin?” she asked. “Presumably you have only yourself to please now you are master-less.”
Kit’s eyes travelled over to where Garman was now rubbing a drying cloth over his head. “I tagged along with Payne to the joust,” he murmured.
“Which knight does your friend serve?” she asked with interest.
“Sir James Attley. He had a second round draw.”
Lenora nodded. She knew Sir James to be a crony of Roland Vawdrey. “I see.”
“My father will probably approach some other second-rate knight now Emworth’s out of the picture,” he said, gloomily plucking at a blanket. “He doesn’t have any decent acquaintance to ask. Emworth only took me because of my kinship to you.”
“How about my husband?” Lenora asked.
Kit’s head whipped around to look at her. “Do you suppose—?”
“Why don’t we ask him,” Lenora looked toward Garman who was lowering his cloth with a sardonic gleam in his eye.
“You wouldn’t enjoy serving me,” he said shortly.
Kit shrugged. “I know a lot of squires,” he said. “And none of them talk of enjoyment when it comes to serving.”
Garman seemed to consider this. “How long did you serve Emworth? I’d have to waste my time un-teaching everything he saw fit to impart before we even began your training.”
“As to that, you needn’t worry,” Kit assured him blithely. “For I never listened to a thing he said.” Lenora shut her eyes a moment. “Man was a damned fool.”
“True enough,” Garman agreed. “But if you fall afoul of me, you’ll know it.”
“Aye,” Kit said, nodding. “I’d guessed as much.”
Garman cast the damp cloth over a chair back and picked up a clean tunic. “What of your father?” he asked.
“Oh, Father said he would wash his hands of me if Emworth cast me off,” said Kit cheerfully. “He said I would have to speak to Uncle Leofric to get a new sponsor as informally I’m his heir, or will be eventually. My father is only thirteen months younger than my uncle and their younger brother died years ago.”
“Then it is perfectly natural that my husband should take you on now,” Lenora said with composure. “I don’t imagine Father knows any knight more appropriate.”
Garman grunted and Kit sprang up from the bunk. “Then it’s settled!” he enthused. “I’m most awfully grateful to you Sir Garman, cousin,” he said, nodding to Lenora and taking a step toward the opening.
“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Garman, eyebrows raised. “I did not dismiss you.”
Kit paused. “I was going to join my friends at the tilting field,” he said slowly.
“You will go down to the stables and become acquainted with my horse Bria’ag,” said Garman coolly. “If after an hour in his company you still want to be my squire, then so be it.”
Kit looked a little taken aback. “Am I to groom him, then?”
“If he’ll allow it,” Garman said, sounding as though he thought it highly unlikely.
Kit nodded again, drew himself up straight, a look of steely determination on his face as he exited the tent, rolling up his sleeves.
“Is Bria’ag so very fierce?” Lenora asked as Garman crossed to the tent flap and secured the ties.
“Get on the bed,” he said, ignoring her question. Lenora blinked as he turned and drew his tunic back up over his head so he was bare-chested again. When he took two steps toward her, Lenora started out of her seat and found herself spun around and her lacings yanked this way and that.
“Why are we undressing?” she asked.
“Take off your head-dress and those damned veils,” he told her precipitately.
They hadn’t been covering her face since the joust, but she drew the pins out and removed her toque as Garman was easing her bodice open. At his promptings, she held her arms up and he drew it over her head so she stood in just her shift and stockings.
“That’s better. Now up on the bed.”
Lenora cast a doubtful look at the fastened entrance. “Won’t everyone be expecting us?” she asked, biting her lip.
“You think I’m the only knight seeking pleasure between a woman’s thighs right now?” he asked coolly. “Besides, you told me this was what you wanted, remember?”
Lenora swallowed. “Yes, but—”
“We won’t go all the way. Trust me.” At that, she relaxed and walked over to the bed with a readiness that clearly surprised him as well as her. It seemed she did trust him, she realized. Well, wasn’t that a turn up for the books.
He followed close behind her as she climbed onto the bed, and no sooner had she stretched out on the mattress then he was on top of her, covering her with his much larger body.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked wonderingly as she ran her hands over the bunched, hard muscle of his shoulders. “Should we get under the covers?”
“No.” He paused. “I want to see what I’m doing this time.” He stopped and frowned down at her.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he answered, but still stared.
When she saw his eyes fixed on her face, she braced a hand to his chest and turned stiff as a board. “What is it?” she asked again with dread catching her breath. Now was not the time for him to notice her ruined face.
“I’m thinking about kissing you,” he said gruffly.
“Oh!” Lenora had no sooner wondered why he looked so sheepish about the fact, then he was lowering his mouth to hers. She had almost forgotten the hot, wet slide of his rapacious kiss. Perhaps he should look embarrassed about the fact he wished to mate his mouth to hers like that in broad daylight!
He tore his mouth from hers. “Am I to instruct you every step this time, or do you remember an
ything?” he asked, his hand yanking her shift down to expose her breasts.
“I’m not your squire!” Lenora retorted hotly. “Really, you have no manners!”
“No, I don’t,” he agreed. “Now answer my question.”
“I remember what you did to me last time.”
“Good, now tell me which parts you liked.”
Lenora’s head span. “I—I liked your kiss,” she admitted.
“Why?” Why? Seemingly, her bewilderment was plain. “Why do you like my kiss, when you hated all others?” he demanded, eyes glinting behind lowered lids.
“I have no idea,” she said truthfully. “Save that no-one ever dared kiss me as you do.”
“Show me how they kissed you.”
Odd how that embarrassed her when his hand was kneading her naked bosom like it was his perfect right. Huffing out a breath, Lenora reached for his other hand which was tangled in her hair. She brought it to her lips. When she pressed a chaste kiss to his fingers, he went still.
“That’s it?”
“Yes,” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes. “No wait,” she turned his hand over and pressed a lingering kiss to his palm.
“Who the fuck kissed you like that,” he snapped out.
“Sir Symond de Chevenix,” she admitted. “But after he did it, I told my father not to admit him again.”
“You didn’t like it?”
She shook her head and felt him relax. “Though maybe I would, if it was you.”
“I never kissed anyone like that,” he admitted. “Never wanted to.”
“Oh.”
“Now kiss me as I kiss you,” he said arrogantly and lifted off her, rolling onto his back.
Lenora shivered, finding herself suddenly lying atop the covers in her thin shift. She rolled onto her side so she was pressed against him. How was she supposed to cage him in like he did to her, she wondered? She was not half his size! Reaching around him, she flung her leg over and scrambled atop him in a most unladylike fashion. “I can’t really do it the same way,” she said unevenly. “For you do not precisely lie atop me like this...”
He made no answer, and when she forced herself to look him full in the face, she found his expression shuttered. Inching forward, she found the best way was to brace her knees on either side of his waist and to clap her hands to his face and hold it still as she lowered her lips to his. He went very still, when she opened her mouth on his and for a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to participate at all.
Then suddenly, he yielded and she surged forward, sliding her tongue against his. He gave a muffled oath and Lenora found herself caught up against him by arms as yielding as steel bands. One hand slid under her shift and gripped her backside hard. She winced faintly, feeling the bruise beneath the crush of his fingers. Then she was distracted by the feel of his short hair beneath her fingers as she realized hers were now running through his hair. Had he done that to her? She rather thought this was her own idea.
She rubbed herself against his bare chest and panted against his mouth. “Garman.”
“What?” His voice was husky.
“We have to stop kissing now.”
“What? Why?” He did not sound pleased.
“You didn’t kiss me any longer than this.”
“Then I’m a fool,” he groaned.
She inched down and he grunted, shifting against her. Lenora hesitated. This was definitely different. She could feel his swollen hardness beneath his muscular belly. “I need to kiss your chest,” she pointed out.
“What?”
“You kissed mine next.”
He breathed out. “I’m not bothered about that. Just pull down your shift.”
She adjusted the neckline of her shift until her breasts were bared and then pressed forward until they brushed against his chest. His chest hair was sparse, though what there was dark gold and patterned in swirls. She ran a hand over his small, flat nipples and heard him give a breathless laugh. “Does it not feel good to be touched here?” she asked curiously.
“Not particularly. I’d rather suck yours.”
She drew in a breath. “Oh.”
“Why don’t you feed them to me?” Lenora’s wide eyes made him smirk. “I’d enjoy that far more.”
She felt her face flame. “Are you in earnest?”
“Deadly, I assure you.”
Hesitantly, she eased up his body again, his hands at her waist, urging her up. Cupping one breast she brought her nipple to his mouth and gasped when his lips fastened there. If his hands were not supporting her, she thought her shaky arms and legs would have given out as she’d hovered over him, biting her lip to stave off her moans.
“Other breast,” he prompted her. She hurried to comply. Only one hand was at her waist now, she realized when the other slid between her legs, rubbing her slickness there. “So wet,” he whispered. “I want to put my mouth here, Lenora. Will you let me?”
“There?” she stared. “Your mouth?”
He nodded. “Oh yes.”
“Why?”
“I want to taste it.”
Lenora shuddered. “I don’t know.”
“Trust me.” Again, his words made her feel calmer. She did trust him, but his request was so strange. Again, his hands at her waist compelled her. “I need you to turn around.”
“Turn around?” Lenora’s voice was little more than a squeak.
“You face the foot of the bed,” he said.
“I don’t know about this.”
“I do,” he said firmly and raised up on his elbows. “Get on your hands and knees.”
Lenora found herself scooting around, her face scarlet when she thought about the view he must be getting. “Garman?”
“Shhh, sweetheart,” he soothed her, lifting her shift up to her middle back, his hands squeezing her plump buttocks. “Gods Lenore,” he said thickly. “You have the most beautiful ass in all Karadok.”
Lenora’s eyes opened wide. Well, that was a compliment she had never received before! She clutched at the blankets as she felt his breath warm on her thighs. “I need you to move back, just a bit.”
With a moan of mortification, she closed her eyes and shuffled back. He was asking her to open her legs right over his face, she thought with vague horror. How was she even able to comply with such wishes? She could not believe this was a reasonable request for a husband to make of a wife.
Then the first lap of his tongue through her folds made her thoughts scatter. The second made her catch her breath. The third had her biting on her lip. Then he started alternating between long leisurely swipes of his tongue and short stabbing darts which found that concealed spot again that made her whole body jolt with pleasure. “Oh!”
“Lenora,” he said sternly. “If you can’t keep quiet, I’ll have to stop. And I don’t want to stop.”
“I don’t know if I can,” she admitted shakily.
“Let’s try. I have every faith in you.”
She fell forward onto her elbows, covering her mouth with her hands. Garman gave a growl of approval at the change of angle and set his mouth on her again, his hands, which had been lightly caressing her buttocks, now grabbed a firm hold of them.
What if someone walked into their tent and were to see her hovering over his face like this? She thought with a sort of horror. Spreading herself out for him like this and upside down? Her face flamed even hotter at the thought.
This must be some form of obscure torture, she thought distractedly, as she concentrated very, very hard not to yell out, moan or even worse, plead with him as he lapped and groaned against her most secretly feminine place. She felt herself wet, not just from his tongue, but like before, when he had said her body was making itself ready for his and his tongue was seeking out every last drop of it.
“W-why are you allowed to make noise and I’m not?” she demanded in a strangled voice. “It hardly seems fair—oh!” She was forced to bite into her one hand to muffle a cry. One of his hands had rele
ased her long enough to deliver a stinging slap to her rounded backside. Her eyes smarted, but for some reason, the pleasure did not even falter. It twisted higher inside her still, a tighter spiral coiling like a spring and she realized she was now shamelessly rocking herself against his mouth like a wild creature and clawing at the bedsheets. When she tried to stop, his large hands spread out across the back of her thighs and dragged her back onto his mouth, as he drove his tongue right into her, making her twist and writhe against him in pleasure. “Ohhh!”
Instead of pulling back to caution her to silence, he groaned deeply against her, the noise vibrating all the way through where she ached and fluttered. She trembled, her thighs shook, then one of his hands delved between her legs, spreading her folds and a big finger slid right into her aching depths while the roughed pad of his thumb found that magic spot and rubbed against her. The whole world shuddered and with a muffled scream, Lenora collapsed face-first on top of him.
*
When Lenora’s eyes next flickered open, she fancied it was some couple of hours later. To her surprise, Garman was still stretched out on the bed beside her, his hands folded behind his head. “Have you been asleep?” she asked slightly self-consciously. She couldn’t believe she had rolled over and slumbered so easily after all that had passed between them. Yet it had been easier than falling off a log.
“No,” he answered.
“Tired after your event?” she asked with a yawn. He had certainly tired her out!
“No.”
She turned her head to look at him. For a moment, her heart plummeted to her stockinged feet. Was she about to get the stony treatment she had received last time they had become intimate? But his expression wasn’t irritable or closed off this time. He turned his face to meet her gaze squarely and seemed quite content to lie there beside her, their bodies touching, the atmosphere companionable.
“Waiting for me to wake?” she ventured, realizing he must have righted her clothes and set her the correct way up in the bed. She must have been out cold! He had washed and changed his tunic, she realized and she had slept through all of it! She should probably feel more embarrassed about that, but she felt so very relaxed and well-rested that she could not quite bring herself to.
The Unlovely Bride (Brides of Karadok Book 2) Page 20