Flight of the Raven

by Judith Sterling

  He gazed into her eyes. Into her soul.

  “If at any moment my touch displeases you, you must tell me,” he said.

  “So be it,” she replied. In one quick movement, she removed the drying cloth and dropped it on the floor.

  His eyes flared. Swiftly, he lifted her in his arms and laid her on the bed. One moment, he stood looking down at her, burning her naked flesh with his stare. The next, he lay beside her.

  He leaned over her. “Emma,” he breathed.

  The furs beneath her body were soft, but his kiss was softer. His tongue teased her lips, daring them to open. They parted eagerly, and she invited his tongue with her own.

  He groaned and kissed her with such ardor her head spun. She breathed in his intoxicating scent and slipped her arms around him. Her heart swelled as she ran her hands over the maze of scar tissue on his back. She pulled him closer and intensified the kiss.

  He drank from her lips as though dying of thirst and blazed a trail of kisses from her cheek to her earlobe. Then he darted his tongue into her ear, and she shivered.

  His deep voice vibrated in her ear. “Does it please you?”

  She swallowed hard. “Aye.”

  “Then I’ll continue.”

  He probed her ear again, and his tongue sent chills along every inch of her flesh. His lips explored her neck, then the hollow of her throat. They brushed her left nipple and closed over the hard pap. He drew on it gently at first, then harder until she trembled. Unconsciously, she raised a hand to her right breast.

  William looked up. “Well,” he murmured, pushing her hand aside. “We mustn’t deprive the other.”

  He grazed her right nipple with his teeth, then sucked it until she moaned with pleasure. In response, he ran his tongue down her torso and dipped it into her navel.

  “Oh!” she cried.

  “You like that?”

  “It tickles.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  He tongued the navel again and continued until she giggled uncontrollably.

  “My job here is done,” he said. “Now for my sweetmeat.”

  She froze. “Is that what you meant?”

  “Aye, and my hunger has only grown.”

  Heat suffused her cheeks. “’Tis unthinkable.”

  He kissed her belly halfway between the navel and the dark triangle below it. “Oh, I thought about it during your entire bath,” he murmured against her skin.

  Her stomach fluttered. “You cannot.”

  “Watch me.”

  “But—”

  “Emma,” he interrupted. “I told you, I’ll stop if my touch displeases you.”

  Her mouth was dry. She licked her lips. “It does. I know already.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. You can only protest after I’ve tried it.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “The injustice of the world is a subject for scholars. It has no place here.”

  “What about chivalry?”

  He grinned. “Believe me, this is a noble quest.”

  “But you’ll stop if I ask you to?” she said, placing a hand on his bicep.

  He kissed the hand, then gave her a look that was at once confident and wicked. “I will, but you won’t ask.”

  She considered her options. There were none. “Very well,” she said in a shaky voice.

  He licked his lips. “Spread your legs.”

  “William—”

  His gaze held hers. “You’ve enjoyed my other caresses, haven’t you?”

  “I have.”

  “Did I hurt you in any way?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Then trust me again.”

  She shut her eyes against her embarrassment and spread her legs a few inches. He chuckled, and she opened her eyes.

  “Wider,” he instructed.

  “How much?”

  “Pretend you’re riding a horse.”

  “I ride sidesaddle.”

  He planted a kiss on her hip. “You are stubborn. Allow me.”

  She bit her lip as he opened her legs and positioned himself between them. She felt horribly exposed.

  “Relax,” he said.

  Her response was a nervous laugh.

  “I’m serious,” he declared.

  “I’m sure you are,” she said. Then she sighed. “I’ll try.”

  He bent down. “That’s all I ask.”

  Leisurely, he kissed the insides of both her thighs. Then he blew on the black curls between them. She wriggled under the cool sensation.

  “Your scent is paradise,” he murmured.

  She gasped and started to close her legs, but his hands prevented her.

  “Don’t,” he said, nuzzling closer. “You’re perfect.”

  She doubted she was any such thing, but the thought that he believed it warmed her. She smiled. Then, as his fingers parted the hair that was her last shield against him, she tensed.

  “Ah,” he crooned. “You’re already wet.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Just the opposite.”

  Her legs twitched as his tongue traced her nether lips. Hot and moist, the caress sent a trickle of pleasure from the tender flesh to the pit of her stomach. Never had she imagined such an intimate kiss.

  “I was right,” he rasped. “You taste of honey.”

  “I—”

  “Salty and sweet.”

  “William, are you sure this is wise?”

  He looked up. “Does it give you pleasure?”

  Her cheeks burned. “Aye.”

  “Then ’tis wise enough.”

  He lowered again to her silken folds. His exploration was slow and thorough. She closed her eyes and surrendered to it.

  Gently, his tongue pushed against the tiny bud of her desire. Her eyes flew open.

  “Blessed Virgin,” she whispered.

  “Indeed you are,” he teased.

  Softly, skillfully, he flicked his tongue back and forth over the nubbin. The motion was slow at first, but grew steadily faster. She closed her eyes and writhed beneath him. The exquisite, tingling sensation that began as a trickle had become a storm.

  William groaned and became more insistent. He lowered his mouth to her nether lips and thrust his tongue inside.

  She whimpered. In desperation, she lifted her hips and clutched the furs that cushioned her.

  He returned his tongue to the bud of her passion, increasing the pressure and speed of his caress. Her breath quickened. She tossed her head on the pillow as her whole being focused on the sweet assault.

  A sudden jolt of intense pleasure coursed through her. She arched her body and cried out. “William!”

  ****

  Basking in Emma’s exotic scent, William smiled. She’d called his name. He felt a deep satisfaction which made him want to please her even more.

  The things I could teach her, he thought. The pleasure we might share.

  He wanted to bury himself inside her and make her shout his name again. But that must wait. She needed time to become accustomed to his touch, and his appetite.

  Through a haze of desire, he kissed her hot mound once more, then shifted to lie beside her. He propped his head in his hand and savored the sight of her flushed, voluptuous body. It glistened with sweat and beckoned him like magic. Unable to help himself, he slid his hand over the smooth, flawless skin of her belly.

  Emma stretched her limbs luxuriously and sighed. Then she turned to him. “Thank you.”

  He grinned. “’Twas my pleasure, as well.”

  “Truly?”

  “Aye.”

  Her violet eyes sparkled. “I never imagined such a feeling.”

  He moved his hand to the soft curve of her hip. “It must be experienced firsthand.”

  She nodded. “Now I understand why lovemaking dominates men’s thoughts.”

  “Women’s, too.”

  “I suppose I shall dwell on it after tonight.”

  He chuckled. She was delici
ously frank. “There are worse fates,” he commented.

  Her gaze fell to his braies, and she stared. “Is that one of them?” she asked, pointing.

  He was all too aware of his erection. It seemed mammoth. “You might say that.” He removed his hand from her hip to loosen the string of his breeches.

  All at once, she rolled toward him and reached for his little finger. With a slow, feather-light touch, she slid her fingertips along its unnaturally twisted length.

  Dark memories fought with the pleasure of the caress. “Why are you doing that?” he questioned.

  “To take away some of the hurt you’ve felt,” she said softly.

  “But why would you wish to?”

  “You are my husband. Your pain is mine.”

  Her answer melted his resistance. He watched her thumb and forefinger move up and down the crooked finger. Little by little, desire overshadowed memory.

  “Emma,” he said.

  Her eyes claimed his. “Aye?”

  “There is one way you could ease my torment.”

  “What is it?”

  “Do you remember the tension that built in your body as I kissed it?”

  Her cheeks colored. “I do.”

  “The rush of pleasure you felt was the release of that tension. My body feels the same pressure, but it hasn’t been released.”

  Her hand hesitated. “What must I do?”

  “You could stroke my manhood as you do my finger.”

  The blush spread to her forehead. “And you would feel the pleasure I did?”

  He could still taste her on his lips. “I would,” he said.

  “Then I shall try.”

  Every nerve in his body stood at attention. Quickly, he untied his breeches and removed them. Then he stretched out on his back.

  She gaped at the sight of his member. “You’re enormous!”

  “Thank you, my dear.”

  “The pressure inside you must be great.”

  “To say the least.”

  She cleared her throat. “Tell me what to do,” she said.

  “Grab hold of it.”

  “Like this?”

  He gritted his teeth as her cool fingers closed around him. “Aye.”

  She squeezed him gently. “How hot you are!”

  “You’ve no idea.”

  “I moved up and down your finger. Should I do that here?”

  “Please.”

  She loosened her grip and stroked his shaft from base to tip. He tensed and sucked in his breath.

  She stilled. “Did I hurt you?”

  “God no.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  She released the shaft and circled its tip with her finger. He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

  “How smooth,” she purred, repeating the motion. “’Tis fascinating.”

  “Emma,” he said tightly.

  “What?”

  “Stroke me.”

  She nodded and caressed him in earnest. Her hand was like silk. Her scent, divine.

  He thought he would die of pleasure. He’d held back for so long, and she was his angel of mercy.

  “Harder,” he said. “Faster.”

  She stroked his throbbing member with single-minded focus. His heart pounded in his chest. He rode a tempest of sensation that was about to come crashing down.

  He bucked his hips on a burst of pleasure so extreme it blinded him for a moment. Hot juices spurted from his body as he growled his release.

  “Oh!” she cried, still stroking him.

  He shuddered and covered her hand with his. “Enough,” he said.

  She pulled her hand away. “So that’s your seed,” she said. “There’s a lot of it. Shall I fetch a washcloth.”

  “Aye.”

  He closed his eyes and listened to the soft crunch of rushes under her feet. Never had he felt so content, so complete. He sighed, then gave in to a great yawn.

  “Tired?” She returned with the cloth.

  “Very.” He wiped away the evidence of their lovemaking.

  She stood beside the bed, hugging her torso. “I’m cold.”

  He pulled back the fur coverlets and the smooth, linen sheet and nestled under them. “I’ll warm you,” he said. “Hop in.”

  Beneath the covers, he gathered her in his arms. She pressed her nose against his collarbone; it felt like ice.

  “You are cold,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, lifting her head. “I’ll warm up soon.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “No matter.”

  She laid her head on his chest, and he pulled her closer. He relished the feel of her softness against him. Their bodies fit together perfectly.

  “William?” she said.

  “Mmm?”

  A long pause followed. “Nothing,” she said at last.

  He ran his fingers through her satiny, raven hair. “Are you certain?”

  She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Aye,” she said. “Certain.”

  “Good night, then.”

  “Good night.”

  Sleep well, Raven, he thought. He closed his eyes and within minutes, he was asleep.

  He dreamt that night of the tapestry in the solar. His dream-self gazed up at it when suddenly, a musical sigh lilted toward him from behind. He turned to see Emma floating wraithlike through the doorway. Her body was luminous, transparent. She drifted toward him and took his hand. Her touch seemed more spirit than flesh.

  In a flash, he was weightless, rising above the floor.

  “Come.” Her voice was strange, resonant, like the strain of a harp intoning several notes at once.

  Together, they floated toward the tapestry and entered its world. The forest was black. The fire roared. Laughing and singing, the revelers danced around the flames.

  “Come,” Emma said in the same powerful, ethereal voice.

  “No,” he said. “I shan’t.”

  She stretched her arms wide, as though summoning the forces of heaven and hell. “You shall!” she boomed.

  He tried to push her away, but his hands went right through her. He recoiled and turned to the forest. Its dark, forbidden depths beckoned him. There he’d be safe. There he could remain just as he was.

  Comfortable. Certain. Cold.

  Carried on the whistling wind, he floated toward the forest.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You’re unusually quiet this morning,” Meg said. She looked up from the neat piles of herbs which covered the table in Emma’s workshop.

  Emma lifted a posy of heather to her nose and breathed in its sweet fragrance. “I know.”

  “Do you want to take a break?” Meg asked.

  Emma gazed at the purple flowers in her hand. “No.”

  “Do you want me to find Tilda so she can help us?”

  “No.”

  “Well, what do you want?”

  Emma placed the heather on the worktable and turned to Meg. “That’s the trouble,” she said. “I don’t know.”

  Meg tilted her head, and her violet eyes narrowed. “Maybe you do, and you just won’t admit it.”

  “To admit our desires is to give them power over us.”

  “Clever words, Emma, but do you truly believe them?”

  “I believe that wanting too much from life leads to pain and disappointment.”

  “Not so. Desire is a good thing. It leads to action, and action designs destiny.”

  A familiar shadow crept into Emma’s mind. “What if my destiny is to die?”

  Meg raised her hand to Emma’s cheek. “Everyone dies, child.”

  “I know, but I’d like to live as long as possible.”

  “Well, brooding in silence has never strengthened anyone’s health. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Emma’s stomach quivered. “I feel strange inside, like something is missing.”

  “Go on,” said Meg.

  Emma glanced at her gold wedding band and ran a finger over its smooth surface. “I never sought mar
riage,” she said. “When I learned of King Henry’s edict, I prayed my husband would be a kind, strong man bent on peace. I hoped he would respect my wish to remain chaste.”

  “Then Lord Ravenwood arrived.” Meg leaned against the table.

  “Exactly.”

  “And things changed.”

  Emma reached for the mortar on the table, but at the last second, she withdrew her hand. With resolve, she turned to Meg. “I’ve changed.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m beginning to care for him, and I find myself wanting…”

  “Love?”

  Emma nodded. “But not just the physical kind. It must be emotional and spiritual, as well.”

  Meg regarded her for a long moment. Her shrewd eyes missed nothing. “Are you sure this desire is new?”

  “If not, where has it been hiding?” Emma asked, frowning.

  “In your heart, perhaps. Your dreams. Buried so deep you hardly recognize it now.”

  Emma shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “You could be right.”

  Meg straightened, and her eyes twinkled. “I know I am.”

  “What makes you so certain?”

  “Experience.”

  “Have you known love?” Emma asked. The idea was surprising, and intriguing.

  “I have,” Meg answered. “One day I’ll tell you about it.”

  “Why not today?”

  “Your relationship is more pressing.”

  With a rueful grin, Emma nodded. “You have a point.”

  Meg looked thoughtful. “’Tis odd, though. In a way, the curse mirrors the wish you’ve concealed all these years. True love, or none at all.”

  “I suppose I am given to extremes,” Emma said.

  Meg raised an eyebrow. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “Couldn’t there be a compromise? Could the love that breaks the curse be one-sided?”

  “On your side, you mean?”

  “Aye.”

  Meg shook her head. “The legend is clear. It must be a shared love, deep and true.”

  Emma’s heart sank. “Then there’s little hope.”

  “You said you’re beginning to care for Lord Ravenwood. That’s a start.”

  “But how can I make him care for me?”

  “Love cannot be forced. It must come of its own.”

  “If it came to Lord Ravenwood, he’d probably scare it away. He’s a hard man, Meg. He’s had to be.”

  “I’m sure, but don’t lose heart. Your desire for love was hidden deep, yet it existed. Perhaps, even now, there’s a part of your husband that’s reaching out to you.”