Forbidden Heart

by Quinn, Paula

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The cottage was simple in design. There was a small table and chair near the hearth that was built within the wall. Dried, garden herbs hung from the low ceiling. A curtained wall separated the kitchen area from the sleeping quarter, which consisted of a separate room with a bed and some trunks. There was a shepherd’s crook hanging on the wall. A larger hand-carved chair was set opposite the bed.

  There were fur coverings on the bed, and it looked able to accommodate two people.

  “The night is finally here,” he said, coming up behind her and kissing her earlobe. “I thought I would go mad yesterday when I couldna see ye.”

  She trembled a little when his arms slipped around her waist and he buried his face in her nape.

  She lifted her arm and ran it through his dark golden locks. She expected to feel Daffodil there. She smiled and drew in a quick, deep breath to calm her nerves. She loved him. She just promised her life to him. Truly, there was nothing to be frightened of.

  “Silene, I love ye, love. I will be gentle.”

  How? She wanted to ask him. How would he be gentle when he was so eager for her? When he’d been chaste for so long? What if she disappointed him?

  “Galeren,” she turned in his arms to say, “I do not know what to do to please you.”

  His eyes roved over her face, her red waves falling to her brow. “Love, lookin’ at ye pleases me.” The catch of his breath proved his words.

  Somehow, she, with her plain, freckled face and shorn, bright red hair had won the heart of Galeren the Bonny. She didn’t have to do anything to please him. She already did please him. It made her want to please him more.

  She took his hand and led him to the bed, her heart banging so loud in her chest she was sure he could hear it.

  He followed, a willing subject.

  She released his hand when they reached the bed and turned to face him. She untied her cloak and let it fall around her ankles, her gaze fixed on his while she stood before him in her thin chemise.

  He took her in as if he had waited his whole life for her.

  She was emboldened by the power he was giving her by not throwing her onto the bed and taking her like a savage. Though she was not always opposed to savages, this was her first time.

  He was patient, as always, in tight control of himself, letting her move at her own pace. She had never touched a man before him. She wanted to take her time and explore him. She began with his léine, pulling it free from his belt. She could feel his eyes on her, looking down at what she was doing, patient, waiting…

  She pulled the léine up, exposing his flat, muscled belly and bit her lip. He lifted his arms so she could continue undressing him. She loved being the only woman in six years whom he allowed to touch him so intimately.

  He had to finish undressing when she couldn’t reach his head.

  She wanted to step back to revel in what she’d uncovered but she wanted to touch him even more.

  Lightheaded with power, she moved her fingertips lightly over his belly, dancing over the hills and valleys that fashioned him.

  He groaned at her silken touch as she rubbed her palms over his chest that was dusted in swirls of dark gold. His shoulders were wide and carved from stone. She leaned in and kissed one of his arms, thick with sinew, able to protect and comfort. She wasn’t afraid of him. Elysande and Adela had told her what happens on a lass’ wedding night. Her new cousins were correct to tell her that after a few passionate kisses, she would not care about any pain. She wanted him to know she wasn’t afraid.

  She leaned up on her tiptoes and hooked her hands on his shoulders. “Kiss me, Husband.”

  His broad hands circled her waist as he bent his mouth to hers.

  Contact with his lush, hungry mouth made her nerve endings feel raw. The sensual path of his hands—one up her spine, and one below, and moving even lower made her blood boil. He pulled her body against every inch of his. He was hard and tight everywhere.

  He slipped his hand between them and unhooked his belt, for which Silene was thankful since his many weapons were digging into her.

  With that out of way, Silene could feel his passion without any interference. She almost broke their kiss at the fear of the beast between his thighs, but she would not succumb to fear.

  He didn’t let her go. Instead, he bent over her when she arched her back and kissed her until she broke away to pant with need of him.

  She blushed, but she didn’t care about being shy when he dipped his face to the breasts her arching back offered. He cupped one in his hand and lowered his mouth to the other, sucking through her thin chemise.

  Her nipples were so hard and tight, they almost pained her. His scintillating tongue and teeth eased the pain but also made her ache below her belly, between her legs.

  He moaned and fell on his back on the bed with his legs hanging over the side. He laughed, taking her with him to land atop him.

  He took her mouth again, molding his lips to hers, playing with her tongue, firing her blood.

  He used one foot to release the other from its boot, then did the same with the other foot. His movement beneath her caused him to rub against her crux and shook her world on its axis.

  She’d never felt anything like it…there. He was steel against her, about to break through his hose and impale her.

  Instinctively, she wanted to straddle him, and he wanted it, too.

  Freeing her breasts, he pulled her chemise up over her bare thighs, the alluring curve of her bottom, up over her breasts. He pulled the chemise close over her head and released it at her nape, locking her arms behind her.

  He was now the one in control.

  For an instant, she was overly aware of her body and the fact that she was naked before him. But when he tangled her wrists behind her neck and arched her backward, she had no time to consider if her breasts were too small before they were in his mouth.

  She cried out at the thrill of it and was glad they weren’t in the house. She trusted him not to hurt her, but he never promised not to make her go mad with need. She threw one leg over his hip and then the other. Her hot flesh caressed him and made him groan like a bear in pain.

  With her arms behind her back, she had no way to hold herself up. He did it for her with his free hand laid gently at the valley between her breasts. He kept her steady while he worshipped each breast in turn. She felt herself growing wetter and more ready to receive him.

  When he yanked his hose free, she gasped at the feel of his heavy erection beneath her. He was long and thick, for she tested his length with a quick upward rub.

  Her legs tried to close.

  “I willna hurt ye, my love,” he whispered and set her hands free.

  She rested her palms on his chest and sat up on him.

  His smile of complete seduction singed her nerves.

  With his cock firmly between her thighs, he stroked her with himself until both their muscles trembled. He curled his arm around her and pulled her down for a kiss. His mouth ravished her, her chin, her throat while his hand pressed her lower back closer against him.

  She felt his heartbeat hard and fast against her, growing even faster. He closed his eyes and wet his lips with his tongue.

  He guided Silene over him in a sensual dance.

  She closed her eyes, but her fears were drowned in his seed, shooting into her, onto her.

  He fit his hand between them and took hold of himself while he stared into her eyes. He pushed the head of his erection against her wet entrance.

  She wanted him. All of him. She wanted this intimacy with him. She kept her breath slow and steady while he pushed deeper and deeper, opening her. He retreated slowly, leaving her gasping. He was big and forceful without forcing her. He pained her—but just a little. Instead of simply ramming his way inside her, he withdrew, letting her feel the length of half of him.

  He returned and thrust softly, slower, breaking her barrier and filling her again.

  While
he spilled more of himself into her, he remained deadly still, not letting himself fully enjoy her yet.

  Well, Silene thought, she wouldn’t have that.

  She already knew what felt good to her and what was still painful.

  She kissed him and took him deeper until she felt his hilt. She let him move her the way he liked. In. Out. In. Out. Both, sleek and swollen.

  Something began in her like a force she could not fight. She didn’t want to. It was as if a hundred waves were rushing over her. Her body tightened and quaked. The waves built to a towering tidal wave with her on top.

  She rode it faster, her muscles, taut and shaking. She cried out in painful ecstasy and looked at him for assurance that this was normal.

  He was in the same ecstasy as she, filling her over and over, until he threw up his arms as if in surrender.

  She trailed her palms down his arms before she withdrew and rolled off him.

  “Ye play with fire, lass,” he said huskily. “I will roll ye over on yer belly and take ye from behind.”

  She laughed, believing him to be boasting about what his spent body could do—and then she was on her belly and he was on top of her.

  He had to keep in mind that her body was untried until tonight. He wanted to have her from every angle. His body was well honed. He didn’t need much rest, and besides, he never wanted the night to end.

  He spread her knees with his and leaned down to whisper in her ear how she made him feel. He loved her and he told her so as he found her entrance and pushed.

  She closed her eyes and cried out into the blankets as she grew wet for him again.

  He moved slowly, surging against her, lifting her, pressing her down, retreating, his heavy breath falling on her ear, her neck.

  He never wanted to leave her body. He’d been with other lasses before his vow. He’d had no idea what love was.

  Coming together in the past was nothing like this. No lass he’d ever met or spoken to was like Silene. His heart was hers and it would be hers until the end of his days.

  Wanting to look at her, he rose up to turn her beneath him. He lifted one of her legs and put it around him. He almost slipped out and thrust himself back in.

  Her eyes opened wide and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  He’d already seen her lithe body and she was being overly aware of it now? He smiled and instead of telling her how lovely and perfect she was to him, he wanted to show her.

  He heaved himself into her once, twice, three times, until her arms uncrossed and curled around his neck.

  He gazed into her eyes. Somehow, he, a soldier who had killed many on the battlefield, had won the heart of Silene Sparrow.

  He didn’t care how. He was glad he had.

  “Am I hurtin’ ye, lass?” he asked on a tender whisper as he moved inside her.

  She shook her head. “I am so happy to please you.”

  He slowed, his gaze not leaving hers. “Ye please me too much.”

  “And you, me.” She clutched his shoulders and opened her legs wider, taking him deeper.

  Short, little sounds came from her lips and felt like whips across his back. He kissed the sounds from her. He kissed her chin, her neck.

  He felt her tight sheath swelling around him, making it impossible to stop. He thrust deeper and shuddered on retreat. She clung to him, moving in perfect rhythm with him. Her long legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck and her hips wedged against him.

  He knew she was about to climax. The thought sucked the blood from every part of him but the part that was inside her. At least, that was how it felt when he erupted inside her. He moved faster, wanting to pin her to the bed.

  When she tossed her head back and cried out his name, another rush followed and then the gentle subsiding.

  They finished together and laughed for no other reason than that they were happy to be together and they made each other feel good.

  She was bolder than he thought she would be. He loved it. He knew she was brave. He also knew that he was exhausted.

  “Where are ye goin’?” he asked her when she left the bed.

  “To put on my chemise,” she answered. “I am cold.”

  He waved her over with his hand. “I will warm ye, love. That is why God gave men fur.”

  She giggled and hurried into her chemise and then back into bed.

  He engulfed her, holding her close.

  Soon, they were asleep and didn’t hear the front door opening.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Silene was dreaming of running on the cliffs, laughing with the children and a fat, yellow cat following them. The skies darkened suddenly, and a man called to her—or was it the waves crashing against the rocks below? She turned and saw Galeren lying dead beneath someone’s bloody sword. She began to scream.

  Wake up, Silene. Wake up.

  She opened her eyes and looked around the dimly lit room. Someone was there with them. Someone was watching in the shadows. She moved to rouse Galeren, but her uncle stepped into the soft glow of a dying candle. He shook his head while two more men stepped out of the shadows on Galeren’s side of the bed with their swords at his heart and his throat. They would kill him if she made a sound.

  Her uncle motioned for her to get out of the bed.

  How had he known they were here in the cottage and not inside the gates?

  She obeyed his silent command and left the bed quietly.

  The instant she was out of it, her uncle grabbed her. He closed his hand over her mouth and pulled her to the door.

  She took an instant to see her glorious husband awaken and one of the men lift his blade. She struggled in her uncle’s arms and tried to scream. She would never stop.

  He dragged her toward the outside door. As they passed the light from the glowing hearth fire, she saw a woman cloaked in a hooded mantle run into the room. Whoever she was, Silene prayed the woman could save Galeren.

  She tried to scream but a fist to her jaw silenced her.

  Galeren opened his eyes. He was still in the cottage, still in bed. He tried to get out of it, but his wrists were tied to the bedpost behind his head.

  His head. It pounded like thunder between his ears. He’d been struck, likely with the hilt of someone’s sword. Where was Silene? Now his heart throbbed as loud as his head. Where was she? Who took—her uncle. He remembered. He’d heard something in his sleep. His eyes opened and he had a moment to see John pulling her away before he was struck.

  He had to get free and find her!

  Who tied him to the bed? “Who are ye?” he called into the shadows. It was still night. Where were the stronghold guards?

  They didn’t know he and his new wife were here. They were ordered to heavily protect the cottage tomorrow night. “Come oot so I can see ye,” he beckoned, clenching his teeth. “Where is my wife?”

  “Until death parts you, correct?” a woman sneered stepping forward. She looked like a wealthy lady out for a ride in her fur-lined mantle and hood.

  Cecilia.

  She hadn’t come alone. Four more men appeared, all drawing swords.

  “If she is harmed in any way, I will wring yer neck with my own hands.”

  She turned up one end of her lips. “How will you do that with your wrists tied to the bed?”

  Galeren’s blood boiled. “Tell me where she is or ye will find oot.”

  “What does it matter? You speak as if you are confident of breaking free. Let me assure you, you will never be free again.”

  He gave her quick, doubtful grin.

  For a moment, she looked worried.

  “How did ye get past the guards?”

  She shrugged. “A small forest fire in the opposite direction drew them away from their posts.” Her mocking smile deepened into a snarl. “Not so well protected is it?”

  She was correct. If he lived through this, the guards would be reprimanded for leaving their posts.

  “Where has he taken Silene?” he demanded again
. “I saw the steward take her.”

  She looked as if she had things to say…or scream. “She is homely with her short, orange hair and dotted face. Truly, Captain,” she implored. “What is the point you are trying to prove? That you are not a simple-minded man who thinks with his—” she pointed to the fur covering him from his waist down. “Anyone who knows you, knows you are not such a fool.”

  Galeren was at a loss for words. She wouldn’t see any point that wasn’t in her favor. He didn’t feel like coddling her.

  “You have power and wealth,” she reminded him. “The people adore you. You will not give up everything for her.”

  “Aye. I already have. She is beautiful, Cecilia, while ye are quite ugly. Where is she?”

  She screamed again and stomped to one of her men. She snatched the soldier’s knife from his belt and rushed toward Galeren.

  He stared into her eyes, hating that he was going to die this way and not in battle.

  Oddly, his heart slowed, as if preparing him for a blade to the chest.

  “Cecilia!” a man cried out.

  Galeren knew the voice. He opened his eyes to see Will standing in the doorway.

  “Ye said ye were only helpin’ the steward get the gel. Ye told me ye had nothin’ in yer heart fer him.”

  “I lied,” she told him with a sly smile.

  “Will!” Galeren shouted. “What the hell are ye doin’?” No. No. It couldn’t be. Not Will. He pulled on his bindings. He wanted to hit him or worse.

  “I love her, Cap. I have fer some time.”

  Galeren closed his eyes. He wanted to scream or kill. This was one of his closest friends! The one who…he remembered the children’s confession. The one whom they saw Cecilia kissing. She was the reason he was late in joining them.

  “He told me you and your bride were here in the cottage and not in the stronghold,” Cecilia told her. “He wants you dead, Captain.”

  “No!” Will shouted. “Ye swore he wouldna be hurt!”

  “But ye didna care aboot Silene, did ye, Will. Ye didna care aboot what happened to her.”

  “I—”

  “And if I married Cecilia?” Galeren asked. “What would ye have done then, Will?”