by Sahara Kelly
Both men simultaneously opened their arms and dropped Mechele and Linnet into the cool waters with a loud splash.
Chapter 5
The shock of the cold water took Mechele’s breath away. The shock of two strong arms pulling her to her feet nearly stopped her heart.
She found herself breast to chest with Guy, and he moved one hand, brushing her streaming hair from her face with a surprisingly gentle touch.
The other hand pulled her closer, ever closer, until they bumped, knee to shoulder.
“Guy, I…” She opened her mouth to speak, but had no chance to utter a word.
With barely-restrained power, Guy’s mouth claimed hers.
Mechele’s brain froze, and her body took over. This was no gentle meeting of lips or polite expression of affection.
This was…this was something else.
This was desire. Lust. A pure and simple need to take what was there for the having.
And she knew she wanted to take it, and more.
His tongue drove between hers, forcing her to open her lips wide and permit him entrance.
Permit him? She welcomed him, as hungry as he for this merging of mouths and bodies.
He tightened his hold on her and she felt her nipples harden against the heat of his body. Her wet gown was no barrier to his touch, and his hand slipped behind her head, angling her to where he wanted her.
He licked into her mouth, bringing a moan to her throat, and her hands slid up his bare arms to knead his shoulders and tangle in the damp hair at the back of his neck.
He moved, allowing her a breath, then crushing her beneath him again, hungry, always hungry, demanding more and more.
And she found she had more and more to give him.
His skin felt wonderful, smooth, firm, yet yielding beneath her palms. He smelled of pine and fresh air and river water, blended with an intriguing scent all his own.
A very male scent.
His hand slipped lower down her back and crushed her buttocks, pulling her tight to his hardness.
And my, what a hardness was there.
He moved her slightly, raising her almost to tiptoes so that his cock, which was now a rigid length between his thighs, could find its home between hers.
Almost without thought, Mechele opened her legs, allowing him to settle right where they both wanted him to be.
Their tongues dueled frantically, his body molded to hers closer than the wet kirtle between them, and she sighed with pleasure as his hips moved with minute thrusts, but thrusts all the same.
Her juices were flowing down her thighs, mixing with the waters of the river that still streamed from her body.
Closer yet he pulled her, almost devouring her mouth and her body with his. She felt imprisoned by his presence and captured by his tongue.
His cock rubbed against her mound and she moaned with pleasure, pulling away slightly to fully experience his touch.
It was all Guy needed. His hand left her head and slid between them, finding one soft breast and its hardened tip with his fingers, like iron to a lodestone.
He tugged and squeezed, almost to the point of pain, and Mechele gasped her pleasure as he plunged back into her mouth taking her kiss once again even as he claimed her breast with his large hand.
Never once in her marriage had she considered that a kiss might be anything like this. Her dear departed husband had dropped light pecks on her breasts, true, but never had he molded or kneaded them, or cupped them with such strength.
Never had she wanted anything so much, either. It was as if Guy was lighting a fire within her to match the one that was obviously burning within him.
She surrendered to the flames.
* * * * *
Linnet had erupted from the water, flinging back her sodden chestnut hair, angry words bubbling through her brain.
But Gilles was there, steadying her, staring at her with blue eyes that now seemed lit by some inner glow.
Her scold died on her lips as he slipped his hands to cup her face.
“I’m sorry, Linnet. Are you all right?” His voice was gentle and soft, and she found herself leaning towards him as if spellbound by those eyes.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and in spite of herself she licked them.
He smiled and lowered his head.
His touch was like a butterfly at first, just a soft brushing of skin against skin.
She leaned closer, feeling something start to churn low in her belly. Her hands slipped of their own accord to his waist, and then around to his back as the power of his touch lured her into his arms.
Slowly, his kiss grew more intense, and she willingly parted her lips, urging him to take this moment further.
He drew back a little and smiled at her. “You taste of sunshine,” he said, and kissed her again.
This time he took advantage of her offer and explored her mouth with his tongue, gently brushing the sides of her sensitive skin and running little flicks across her teeth.
Her hands tightened around him and she pulled him closer.
“Gently, sweetling, gently,” he admonished, nevertheless snuggling her closer to him.
He lowered a hand and pulled her tight, returning again to feather her mouth and her face with light warming kisses.
She was growing needier by the second.
Where was the savage claiming she’d suffered through the long year of her marriage? Where were the fumbling hands, the harsh pinches, the almost angry thrusts that had brought tears of pain, not pleasure, to her eyes?
This man was touching her with tenderness, with care, stroking her body and finding something she’d not thought she possessed. A desire that was blossoming into a desperate wanting.
She couldn’t help herself. She raised her knee and slid it up the outside of his thigh, leaning fully against him and gasping as her breasts rubbed against his chest.
His heat surrounded her and his cock found her willing mound, sliding ever so softly against it in a teasing rhythm.
He grasped her thigh, pushing her sodden skirts away.
Oh God. The touch of his hand on her bare skin was wonderful. He swallowed her gasp and let his fingers slide softly along her flesh until he found her naked buttock beneath her gown.
She moaned with the pleasure of it.
His large hand cupped her and held her steady, keeping her flush up against his cock.
Her breasts were squashed against him, nipples hard to the point of agony, yearning to be bared and suckled and touched by this amazingly gentle man.
He deepened his kiss now, claiming the soft territory he found with a gentle certainty.
Heat spread from her mound to her whole body, infusing her with a desperate need to get closer. She wriggled against him, hungry for the feel of his flesh, the scent of him, anything he cared to share with her at this moment would have been welcomed.
But he stayed with his gentle touches, his firm kisses and his hand, which was nestling against her bottom. It moved softly, bringing streams of desire to her body and flooding her thighs with her juices.
If he kept this up, she’d come right then and there in his arms.
* * * * *
Guy and Gilles were men with a mission, and with their women clasped firmly in their arms, it seemed their goals were well on the way to being met.
The willows provided a secluded bower, and while they were facing each other, their companions were back to back, each unconscious of anything but the passion that was threatening to melt the leaves from the overhanging tree.
Suddenly, Linnet shivered, and Gilles drew back with a slight frown, releasing her leg and letting it slide back down into the water.
“You’re cold, sweet,” he murmured, cuddling her protectively against him.
Over her head his eyes met Guy’s.
The cool gray had turned stormy, and Gilles tried to stop the grin from spreading over his handsome face.
The first joust was theirs. Unquestionably.
&n
bsp; Without further ado, the two men once more picked up their women, only this time they strode carefully to the bank and into the warming sunshine.
“But Gilles, I…” said Linnet, worried brown eyes searching his.
“Hush Linnet. You must get dry. The water is very cold still. And not the place for what I have in mind.”
Linnet, the calm, cool and controlled Linnet, blushed.
Mechele, from her place next to Guy’s heart, chuckled, apparently quite oblivious of the impropriety of being carried, sopping wet, by a half naked man.
“And you too, my dear. Though ‘twould be my pleasure to help you out of those wet clothes.” Guy’s words brought a matching blush to Mechele’s face.
As their feet touched the earth, both girls seemed to recall themselves and their whereabouts.
A bleat behind them made them all turn.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” muttered Gilles.
There, on the bank, with as close to a grin on her face as a sheep could manage, stood the ewe. She looked innocent, woolly, and a little puzzled at these strange wet creatures who obviously liked to play in the water.
How she had crossed back over the stream was a mystery.
Linnet sighed. “Well, you little devil. Good thing you’ve got lambs to tend to, or you’d be mutton for tonight’s dinner, I swear.”
Awareness crept back into all four of them, and Mechele and Linnet looked around awkwardly.
“We should…”
“Yes, it’s wet and…”
“Go back to the house and change. Right away.” Guy’s peremptory order brought Linnet’s head around.
“Yes indeed, Sir Knight.” She barked back at him.
There was a moment of silence as Gilles and Guy exchanged glances.
“How long have you known?” asked Gilles, staring fixedly at Linnet.
“From the first,” answered Mechele, taking pity on her cousin whose words seemed to have evaporated under the heat of that blue gaze. “You are like no other workers who have ever wandered our way. Your manners, your address…”
“Your bodies…” added the irrepressible Linnet, who apparently had regained the power of speech.
Gilles preened.
Guy ignored him. “There are matters we must discuss, ladies. But you must know we mean you no harm.” His voice held a note of pleading.
Gray eyes bored into hazel ones.
“I know, Sir Guy. I know,” Mechele answered quietly, bringing a softening to those harsh features.
“Good girl. But you must change and we have tasks to finish.” Guy nodded in satisfaction.
“Oh but…”
Gilles raised his hand. “Even though you know who we are, others do not, and we’d rather keep it that way. Is there a time when we could talk, without drawing undue attention to ourselves?”
Linnet glanced over at Mechele. Both girls shared the same thought. If these two ever imagined they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves, they were modest Knights indeed.
“Well, ‘tis Saturday,” said Linnet.
“We usually end the workweek with a small meal in our little courtyard, where all the workers bring some food and share with everyone.” Mechele dragged her eyes away from Guy. “Sometimes someone will bring a pipe and play us a merry tune.”
“A chance for us to chat with those tenants who really own this land. Those who earn our gratitude every single day,” added Linnet.
Both men nodded their approval of this idea.
“So,” continued Mechele. “If you would care to be part of our meal this evening, we could certainly spend some time talking and not cause any untoward comments?”
Linnet chuckled. “The only untoward comments I’ve heard so far suggest that you two are…er…that you enjoy a…how can I put this?” She turned to Mechele for help, to find her cousin grinning widely.
“Well, seeing as you two spend so much time together, there are some rumors about the…the…nature of your friendship.” She bit her lip against a laugh.
Gilles’ eyes flared and he grabbed Linnet’s hands, daringly pressing them against the front of his breeches.
Guy pulled Mechele up close. Very close.
“I trust this puts the lie to those rumors, lady?” growled Guy, pushing his still-aroused cock hard against her mound.
“Any questions, Mistress Linnet?” asked Gilles, refusing to let her pull her hands from his arousal.
Both girls obediently shook their heads.
“Not a one,” sighed Mechele.
“Me either,” echoed Linnet.
Chapter 6
While Linnet and Mechele exchanged their sopping gowns for dry clothes, Guy and Gilles returned to the water wheel and concluded their morning’s chores.
“So our secret’s out,” said Guy, leaning against a tree and letting the sunshine dry him off.
“Apparently so,” answered Gilles, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair.
“I suppose it was naive of us to expect our presence hereabouts wouldn’t be mentioned or discussed. But I had hoped to be able to tell Mi—um—the women about it ourselves.” Guy stared off into the distance, his mind busily working on the changed situation and what it meant now to their mission. He frowned.
Gilles shot him a glance. “I know that frown. It means you’re troubled by something. Is it Mechele?”
Guy snorted. “Absolutely not.” He chewed his lip. “Well, maybe.”
Gilles waited patiently.
“Oh all right. Yes. It’s Mechele.” He strode to the edge of the river and stared at the waters, as if trying to find the answers within its rippling depths. “I can’t explain it, Gilles. Touching her was like touching moonbeams. She stirred something in me that I wasn’t prepared for. I want her beneath me so badly that my very teeth ache with it, and yet I want to kill anyone that so much as looks at her with anything other than respect.”
He sighed. “She touched me and I was lost, Gilles.”
Gilles place a hand on his friend’s sun warmed shoulder. “If it’s of any comfort, Guy, I had much the same experience with Linnet. All that fire and passion gentling to warmth and desire under my hands. I swear if I could have, I would have claimed her right there beneath that willow and be damned to it. And I also shudder at the thought of another man so much as…”
His words trailed off. Both men were silent for a moment, busy with their thoughts.
Guy forced his shrewd warrior’s mind to take over, and did his best to leave his lustful images of loving Mechele in the background. It was not an easy battle, but finally he half-turned to Gilles with narrowed eyes.
“Well, I can say one thing. Lymington’s troubles lie not with Maltby Abbey, but with Lymington.”
As had happened so many times since they’d met, Gilles met his look with an intense one of his own. “Agreed.”
Gilles paced the bank as he considered the problem.
“You have only to look at those two to tell they’d not willingly defy the law,” said Guy, working things out in his own mind. “Therefore, I am led to one conclusion.”
Gilles nodded. “That Lymington is perhaps demanding a great deal more than his due.”
Guy glanced at his friend. “Perhaps it would be useful to find out from the women exactly what his demands are.”
“And it is my hope that perhaps this evening we may have chance to do just that,” finished Gilles for him. “I agree again. This place is well run, carefully tended, and seems to offer much in the way of security and comfort for its tenants. They’re well fed, hard workers, and from what I’ve seen they’re content to be here. Unlike some other estates.”
Guy chuckled. “Yes, tonight might be the time to question them. But I’m much afraid that my mind won’t be on learning the details of their levy from Lymington. It will have a hard time concentrating on anything other than learning the details of Mistress Mechele. The intimate details. “
“You want the house or the barn?” asked Gil
les, his lips curving up into a wicked grin.
“Oh definitely the barn. I want Mechele out of her comfortable chamber. I want her to feel something new, something exciting, something…something…oh hell, Gilles, I just want to feel her.”
Gilles bit his lip against a laugh. “Well, then, we’re working toward the same goal. I want Linnet to be smothered in softness, to take the edge away from her loving, and make her aware of how sensual it can be. To gentle her first like an untamed filly, then show her things that she’s never dreamed of…”
Amazingly, Gilles, the Sun Knight, colored up as he realized what he was saying.
“Saints, we’re two moonstruck idiots, aren’t we?” Guy’s laugh rang out, disturbing a flock of birds in a nearby tree.
Gilles smiled quietly. “Indeed we are, my friend. I think we may just be facing the most dangerous foes we’ve ever run into. This time it’s not a piece of land, or a King we must fight for. This time, it’s our damned hearts.”
“And all this time, I never thought we had ‘em,” finished Guy wryly. He shrugged, sighed, and followed his friend back towards the stables.
A new kind of battle faced him, and he wasn’t sure of the outcome.
Not sure at all.
* * * * *
Linnet ran her brush through her long chestnut hair, absently pulling the tangles free and smoothing it to a soft shine. She’d bathed and changed, and felt more like herself.
She snorted. Try for a little honesty Linnet, she told herself sternly.
She felt nothing like herself. Nothing at all.
Her hand trembled and the brush stilled. She tingled low in her gut at the remembered pressure of Gilles’ lips against hers. Of the sensation of his tongue discovering the nooks and crannies within her mouth, and the touch of his hand on her bare buttock.
She closed her eyes and shuddered, still aroused, still wanting, and unable to deny it, even to herself.
Her mind drifted, comparing this morning to the lovemaking of her departed husband.
He’d been rough, coarse, and more often than not had come to her bed stinking of ale and horses. No clean fresh scent for him. He’d seemed to take pleasure in punishing her for some minor infringement of his rigid rules, and many had been the time when she’d been soundly and cruelly spanked before he sank his cock into her, not even bothering to turn her over first.