Lords of the Kingdom

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Lords of the Kingdom Page 72

by Le Veque, Kathryn


  With nothing covering her but her stays, which thrust her breasts upward, she lay before him. “Beautiful temptress.” He glided a finger down her taut belly, her sharp intake of breath music to fuel his desire. “You’re flawless. Amazing.”

  “You’re rather amazing yourself, but entirely too clothed,” she said with breathiness.

  “Let me remedy that immediately.” He shed his clothes and came down to trail kisses on her creamy flesh. Her body strained toward his mouth, and when he pressed his lips to her chest her heart pounded against his lips. “You’re mine,” he vowed, unlacing the stays, which bound her breasts. When they thrust forward with the release of the garment, he brought his mouth over her inviting, rosy nipple and suckled for a moment before flicking his tongue back and forth.

  Desire struck him like a merciless wave, but he refused to give in to his own need before he had brought her pleasure. She moaned then clenched his hair in her fists. He wanted nothing more than to part her milky thighs and thrust himself into her repeatedly, but he clenched his teeth and bent to slowly remove her silk stockings and ribbon garters. He rolled the material of her stockings down her long legs then trailed his tongue over her skin. “You have the most beautiful legs.”

  “And you have the most beautiful mouth.”

  He slipped his hands onto her thighs, spread them wide, and lowered himself between them. “Let me show you exactly what I can do with my mouth.”

  “Hmm?” was her dazed reply.

  In answer, he touched his tongue to the most sensitive part of her body and licked, slowly and deliberately.

  Madelaine’s eyes flew wide open, and even as jolts of unspeakable pleasure vibrated from her center to every part of her body, her hands tugged at Grey’s hair in a desperate attempt to get him to raise his head. When he finally relented in his mind-numbing assault of her flesh, he rose up and met her gaze.

  “This cannot be decent.” She attempted to scoot back from him, but his fingers under her bottom held her in place.

  “Probably not.” He lowered his mouth to the soft flesh between her thighs again.

  A thousand sparks arched her entire body as his tongue circled her flesh repeatedly. Heat jolted through her. She no longer cared if it was decent. All she cared about was drawing his mouth closer to her. With that thought, she thrust her hips upward, toward his tongue which moved faster, circling relentlessly until a sharp yearning pulsated within her. “Oh, my God,” she moaned and dug her nails into his back. “Please.”

  His tongue flicked, and sucked, pulled and circled. She bucked, consumed by fiery heat and desire. Her belly clenched, then deep within her all her muscles clenched as she rode with the spasms and drowned in the waves of pleasure that followed.

  Yet, even then, her desire was not sated. “Take me now,” she demanded, not caring how she sounded.

  Grey didn’t hesitate. He rose and plunged deep within her, filling her, with his hard, throbbing shaft that promised to be the answer to her greatest need. She wrapped her legs around his sides as he slid slowly in and out, his pace increasing while the tide within her built once again. Her mind spun as he whispered, “Hold on to me.”

  Circling her arms around his back she clung to him, until she could not hold back any longer and pushed her hips upward to meet him as he thrust deep within her once again. Tremor after tremor racked her body, leaving her floating, spent, and breathless. Yet, Grey was not done. A thrill coursed through her as he slid her legs over his shoulders, his body glistening with sweat, the muscles of his arms straining with his effort. He delved into her hard and fast. Madelaine welcomed every thrust. She rose with him in wild pleasure once again as his own release found him and took him over the edge then dropped him down to her where he rolled off of her and brought her with him to lay against his side.

  One of his arms draped around her shoulder, while his other hand came to her hair and stroked it. Their heavy breathing filled the room, slowly growing into the barest hiss. Grey’s hand stilled and then came to her chin. He turned her to look at him. “Feel free to come to me at any time no matter who I’m with if you want to try to persuade me of something without riling my temper. I vow to drop everything for you.”

  Madelaine’s answer was a sleepy, sated chuckle.

  The next day before departing for their new home where Madelaine would settle in while Grey was on his mission, they decided to take one last ride around the castle grounds. As they neared the lake, Madelaine pulled up on her reins. “I do believe Constance is having another rendezvous,” she said, watching as the maid adjusted her cape, tidied her hair and then started trudging in their general direction.

  “Do you want to go back the way we came, so we don’t embarrass her?” Grey asked.

  Madelaine smiled at her husband’s consideration, but kept her gaze trained on the cave. “I don’t think it’s necessary. Whoever she was with is not following her.”

  “Maybe the man already departed.” Amusement laced Grey’s tone.

  “Likely. Go ahead for the castle. I never got the chance to thank Constance for helping me, so I could see my father.”

  “I’ll not leave you alone anywhere until I know who helped Sutton get his information.”

  Madelaine scowled, though secretly pleased Grey was protective of her. “All right. Wait around the bend where you can see us, but we cannot see you. That way I can thank Constance, without making her worried that someone else knows she helped me to leave the castle, besides she and I.”

  “Agreed.” Grey kissed her on the cheek and rode toward the turn in the path.

  Some minutes later, Constance crested the hill and Madelaine rode toward her, waving. “Constance!”

  The maid’s face drained of color and the small pouch she held in her hands slipped to the ground.

  Madelaine frowned as she scrambled from her horse and strode toward Constance. Was it embarrassment or something else that held the woman still as a stone? Maybe the man she’d met was still in the cave after all. Madelaine scooped up the pouch and held it toward the maid. “You dropped this.” The pouch held coins if the weight and noise were any indication.

  Constance did not reach for her money. “You’re alive.”

  The whispered words, reverberating with accusation, sent tendrils of fear racing down Madelaine’s spine. She shuffled backwards, her gaze darting to the bend in the road where Grey awaited. Blast! Her dagger was by her bedside. She forced a smile. “Of course. Did you think otherwise?”

  The maid blinked as if a trance had been lifted. A shaky smile pulled at her lips. “I was worried for you when you never returned from seeing your father.”

  The hair on the back of Madelaine’s neck stood on end. She’d never told Constance that she was going to see her father. She’d just offered money for the maid’s clothes and help and let Constance assume a lover was waiting for her. Madelaine stepped back again, but this time Constance moved forward, her lips pressing together and her hand darting down toward her boot.

  Madelaine lunged past her, but Constance caught her by the arm, whirled her around, slapped a hand over her mouth and pressed the sharp point of her dagger into Madelaine’s neck. “That was a stupid slip of the tongue,” Constance said.

  Madelaine didn’t dare move. The point of the blade was digging into her pulsing vein.

  “Can’t say I’m sorry for it, though. If you’re alive, it means Sutton is dead, and my lord had promised to take me and my siblings away from here once you and your man were dead. Lord Sutton was nothing to look at, but he was generous and put food in my baby brother’s and sister’s bellies. I would have been a proper lady married to him.”

  Madelaine scanned the path for Grey, but it was empty. Cold sweat broke out on her skin, and her stomach rolled. After everything to die here, with Grey so near yet too far to help her. Her heartbeat roared in her ears. “Goodbye, Lady Madelaine.”

  The words pushed Madelaine into a frenzy. She bit down on Constance’s hand while reaching
for the dagger and tugging the hilt. The blade scraped across her neck as she struggled with Constance, but with a scream of fury, she ripped the blade out of the maid’s hands and swung Constance around while pushing the dagger’s tip into the woman’s back. “If you move, I’ll plunge this dagger through your back and pierce your heart. You’ll die instantly. Understand?”

  “Yes,” Constance replied, her tone stiff.

  From behind Madelaine, hooves pounded down the path, and her name was a ferocious cry that filled the air. Grey was beside her before she could question Constance. He dropped down from his horse, pistol in hand and pointed at Constance’s back. He brushed Madelaine’s neck where blood trickled down. “Are you all right?”

  “A small cut,” Madelaine replied, her voice steady but her legs trembling with relief that she would live another day to be Grey’s wife. “Darling?”

  “Yes, dearest,” Grey replied as if it were every day the two of them stood with dagger and pistol in hand and an enemy before them.

  A high keening came from Constance, her hand’s clenching at her sides.

  “I’ve discovered who helped Sutton,” Madelaine said, over Constance’s loud noise.

  “Indeed,” Grey replied. “I cannot believe I ever thought you a weakness to avoid.”

  Madelaine flashed a loving smile at her husband. “You’ve much to learn about me, Lord Drivel.”

  Epilogue

  Three months later

  Madelaine made her way through the sunny halls of her home, humming as she strolled. She came to stand in front of Grey’s closed study door, a smile pulling at her lips and a hand resting for a brief moment on her belly. Anticipation swelled within her, but as angry voices rose on the other side of the door, she frowned. Then, as she had been doing for years, she pressed her ear to the door.

  Geraldine, the housekeeper, came around the corner with a silver tray in hand, her eyes widening when she saw Madelaine. Madelaine suppressed a giggle and held her hand toward Geraldine. “Give me the tray.”

  “My lady?”

  “The tray,” Madelaine said impatiently. “I’ll take it in to my husband.” It was the perfect excuse to interrupt him.

  “But, my lady,” Geraldine started to protest. Madelaine patted the elderly woman. “It’s perfectly fine. He knows I have a mind of my own. He won’t hold you responsible. Now, give me the tray.”

  Geraldine’s eyebrows furrowed, but she handed over the tray and with a shake of her head, and murmuring, scurried down the hall.

  Madelaine opened the door and swept into the study. Grey and Gravenhurst faced each other with stormy looks. Her heart gave a little lurch. Was this about a mission? The timing would be awful, but she refused to let anything dampen her spirits. “Good afternoon, my dear.” She set the tray on the side table and went to stand by Grey.

  “Lord Gravenhurst, to what do we owe this pleasure? A mission?”

  Lord Gravenhurst’s gaze flicked to Grey and back to her. The man was disconcerting as always. “Not exactly,” he said, pulling at his cravat.

  Madelaine frowned. She’d never seen Lord Gravenhurst uncomfortable or at a loss for words. What in the world could be the matter? Something grave surely, or a matter of the heart. “Is it a lady?”

  His throat clearing and him shifting from foot to foot told her she’d hit her target, though she’d shot the arrow blindly. “I see. Anyone I know?”

  The guttural throat sounds coming from Grey surprised her.

  “Who is it?” she demanded.

  “Madelaine.” Grey’s one word warned of his raised temper. Whoever this conversation was about, Grey was not happy. Madelaine’s curiosity was definitely piqued, but right now she had much more important things on her mind. She shelved the mystery.

  “Grey, I need to speak with you in private for a few minutes.” Would a few minutes be enough? Well, if they hurried, though, Grey was not one to hurry, which she adored.

  “Now?” His eyebrows shot upward.

  “Yes, please.” She slipped her hand through his arm. “In the bedroom.”

  His eyes widened at her pronouncement, and the frown that had tugged at his lips turned into a smile. “Gravenhurst, I’ll be back shortly.”

  Grey glanced at Madelaine, and she shook her head. He led her toward the door and called over his shoulder, “Make that in a little while.”

  Madelaine had to double her footsteps to keep up with Grey as he raced them up the stairs and to their bedroom. He shut the door and faced her. “What is it you need, my dear? I’m all ears and ready to be convinced.”

  Grey’s voice was thick with desire that Madelaine’s body instantly responded to. But her desire would have to wait for a minute. “I’m getting fat.”

  “What?” Grey looked confused. “Is this a woman’s worry? You’re perfect.”

  “Hmm…” She licked her lips. “I’ve gained some weight.” Her heart thudded heavily in her ears.

  Grey brushed his hand down her arm. “You are more beautiful than ever. Where have you gained weight? I don’t see it.”

  She took his warm hand and placed it on her belly. “Here, my darling. I’ve gained weight here. And soon, you will see it when the baby really starts to grow.”

  “Truly?” He placed his hand on her belly, his fingers curling ever so slightly.

  Warm tingles of happiness danced through her body.

  “Truly, dearest. You are going to be a father.”

  “I don’t think I can get any happier,” Grey said.

  Madelaine grasped his lapels and tugged him closer. “I’m sure I can make you happier.”

  He regarded her curiously.

  “What is it, dearest?” She squeezed his hand to encourage him to tell her.

  “When I was young I sought to feel loved, and then I sought to avoid it when I grew older. When I least expected love, there you were, the answer to what I didn’t even realize I was still searching for. Thank you for your love and our precious child.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss that curled her toes and made her feel at once desired, protected and cherished.

  The End

  About the Author

  Julie Johnstone is a USA TODAY bestselling author of Regency Romance, Victorian Romance, and Scottish Medieval Romance. She has also written an urban fantasy/paranormal romance book. She’s been a voracious reader of books since she was a young girl. Her mother would tell you that as a child Julie had a rich fantasy life made up of many different make believe friends. As an adult, Julie is one of the lucky few who can say she is living the dream by working with her passion of creating worlds from her imagination. When Julie is not writing she is chasing her two precocious children around, cooking, reading or exercising. Julie loves to hear from her readers. You can find Julie at these places:

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