"Not yet."
"Please," ended with a gasp, as he flicked his tongue against that sensitive spot again, and her hips bucked once again. His teeth gently locked around the bud working it gently, his tongue still flicking, and she could not help the cry that ripped from her lips. She writhed beneath him, tried to slam her legs closed, but he was too strong, and she could not escape the building pressure deep within herself.
He raised himself and she saw gentleness within his dark eyes she had never seen. It melted her heart, and she tried to reach for him, but his one hand still held her down.
"Not yet." The words were a command. Garrick removed his hand from her chest, the other from her thigh, and then gripped her roughly by the hips. With one hard pull he yanked her upward. Her knees bent, her shins pressed against his chest, her ass resting just below his chest.
"Put your legs over my shoulders."
Ryann did not immediately comply, and his thumbs bit into her pelvis, pulling her harder against him. "Now," came his order, and she complied. Not because he hurt her, or demanded it, but because the lust she saw in his eyes as he looked down at her nakedness gave her no choice. As soon as she draped her legs over his broad shoulders his head dove between them, his tongue entered her, and she cried out.
Ryann's hands let loose the cover and twined themselves in her husband's hair, holding onto him for dear life as her body bucked against him. Her eyes rolled in her head and the pressure released itself, flowing from her, shooting her heavenward to plunge back to earth only for the sensations to begin again, as he continued to stroke her in and out with his tongue.
"Garrick," she cried. The pressure was building quickly but it was different this time, and instinctively she knew just the stroke of his tongue would not be enough to release her building desire. Yet her husband was unmerciful as he licked and nipped at her, until she begged him between her pants, as tears came to her eyes.
Suddenly he shifted and in her cloud of unbridled desire she realized he too was naked. Ryann did not know when he had unclothed himself, she did not care for he shifted his hips and plunged into her, filling her. Ryann felt her body explode around him. She felt she might faint, as she felt herself pulsing against him. As she again fell back to earth, she looked up at Garrick and saw that he watched her.
"You are far more than I could have ever dreamed," he said, his voice held a note of awe.
Ryann could say nothing, feeling herself still pulsing and her husband still filling her.
"Now hold tight."
Ryann did not know what those words meant, but did not have time to ask. Garrick withdrew nearly entirely, then plunged into her forcefully, quickly making her cry out and throw her head back at the new sensation. Again and again he pounded in and out of her. Her fingers wrapped again in the cover. His fingers bit into her hips as he forced her to take each of his thrusts without yielding. She felt her climax coming and one final thrust, the hardest and deepest yet, brought a groan from Garrick, and a new sensation as he spilled his seed within her, sent her over the edge. He held her tightly, feeling him pulsing, and her own body felt as if it milked him dry, as her climax rolled on and on.
She felt him shift, lower her legs that felt like dead weights, then lay down next to her, pulling her against him.
"You are worth it all," his deep voice said, and was the last thing her mind registered as she drifted to sleep.
Chapter 16
Ryann stood on the wall of Fenton, looking out across Garrick's kingdom. A sense of pride to be married to a man such as he, washed over her. For five days he and his army had been gone. Keri left with some of Damien’s men to return home. Only a handful of soldiers were left to defend Fenton, and despite herself, Ryann felt nervous. She guessed it was due to her husband's absence. Marcus had assured her Garrick would not be leaving if he felt the men he left behind was inadequate to protect her, and what was his. He left Christopher in charge, even allowed the rest of her guard to go free to help in the defense.
The morning he left had been difficult for her. She did not understand how Garrick could part without any outward signs of sadness. He admonished her several times to be strong before he rode from the courtyard, as tears filled her eyes. His kiss had been a different matter. It had been spontaneous, even for him, for the surprise of his actions registered after the fact. He grabbed her by the hand, pulled her to him, and kissed her before everyone. Not just a light kiss, but a belly-flipping-toe-curling kiss that left her needing his support for a moment before he let her go, and vaulted onto the back of Malik. She watched him lead his men from the courtyard, pride swelling in her chest, as the tears streamed from her eyes.
She turned quickly away from the landscape and hurried from the wall in search of something to occupy her time. Sitting alone, on the sprawling steps into the hall was Jill, she looked as forlorn as any child could. Her pale blonde head was bent over her lap where she held a doll, her fingers working at the lace of her dress.
"What has you so down on such a pretty day," Ryann asked, taking a seat next to the girl.
"My birthday is soon," Jill replied quietly.
"How old will you be?" Ryann asked with a smile. The smile quickly faded when the child looked up at her, and she saw the tears that had been silently falling.
"Six."
"Why does that have you so sad?"
"It will be another birthday without my mother. She always made it special, and I miss her very much. Will doesn't like for me to talk about her. But I want to talk about her, the things she would say. The way she smelled. The way she always made me feel very special on the day I was born." The little girl shrugged her thin shoulders, "Now I'm afraid it will just be another day."
"Bite your tongue. No one's birthday is just another day around here. All I needed to know was it was your birthday, the rest I can take care of," Ryann assured her. "I know it will not be as special as what your mother did. But it is a day that needs to be celebrated, because on that day a very special friend of mine was born."
"Really?" she asked, as if such a thing was preposterous.
"Truly. Now you run and play, I have some things to plan." Ryann said standing.
Jill bounded to her feet and skipped away.
She found Will in the stable, quietly cleaning the stalls. It was not a chore the boy was assigned, but for a child who had lost all desire to play like the other children, it seemed to be something he chose to do to pass his time. Ryann picked up a pitchfork and began to help him move the mess into the cart, sitting in the aisle. The boy spared her only one quick glance before continuing his work.
"I’m glad I found you. It has come to my attention your sister's birthday is quickly approaching."
"Yeah," the boy replied, clearly annoyed she was encroaching upon his space.
"I think it would be wise to give her some kind of celebration, to help her deal with your mother not being here."
"Talk to my father, he's the reason she's not here," the boy replied bitterly.
"Do you believe that is true?" she asked, trying to keep up with the pace that seemed to be quickening with the conversation.
"I know he did nothing."
"Perhaps he could do nothing, in order to protect the two of you."
"He has a funny way of showing it. He's not even going to be here for Jill's birthday."
"Wouldn’t it be more unfair to her if her brother was not there to celebrate with her?"
Will stopped raking and replied quietly, "I don't feel like celebrating."
"Perhaps now is a good time to celebrate that you have a beautiful little sister who looks up to you. Not everyone is fortunate to have that."
Will nodded and went back to work. After a few moments of quiet he spoke.
"Lady Ryann?" he asked, leaning against the rake. "Why does our father dislike us so now that mother is gone?"
"Do you think your father loved your mother?"
Without hesitation Will nodded. "He would often bring h
er a flower from a meadow, sometimes great bouquets that would make her laugh. He told mother once that the sun could never shine so bright as her smile."
"Do you have your mother's smile?"
"Father said once we both did, just as bright."
"Do you truly think your father could do anything against the king's men?"
Finished tossing the last the boy had raked into the cart, she took the opportunity to lean on the pitchfork. Will shrugged. "I used to think father could do anything."
"I think your father has a great deal of anger because he could do nothing to save her. I also think he feels that guilt each time he looks at the two of you, and sees her in you."
"Are you saying we will never have our father back because we look like our mother?"
"I don't think so. I think time has a way of healing old wounds. Just some take longer to heal than others."
Will seemed to think about this for some time. Finally, coming to a decision he raised his eyes to hers. "I would like to help you celebrate with my sister."
"Good. Let's start now, because I can't keep up with you anymore."
The boy smiled with pride, before stepping from the stall and taking her pitchfork from her. He returned them to their place and left the stable at Ryann's side.
For two days Ryann buried herself in the preparations for Jill’s celebration. Each minute of her day was spent surrounded by the children of the keep, or the servants. But each night she climbed into the large bed and slept with her own loneliness. She wished she could work throughout the night as well, for she laid many hours awake staring at the ceiling or wall, and praying Garrick would return soon. She found herself having to tamp down her anger often, for she did not understand Garrick's need to kill Stroud. She understood he was a bad man, she hated him with her entire being, but she would rather her husband be by her side then for him to hunt Stroud down. She could live with the knowledge they had enemies who lived, because Garrick would be around to protect her. Or would he? Perhaps he had plans to go on Crusade with the King as well, therefore he had to make their home as safe for Ryann as possible. That thought only increased Ryann's inability to sleep. Finally, with a frustrated growl she climbed from the bed, and threw her robe about her shoulders. A turn around the courtyard would help, and perhaps a small bite from the kitchen.
Her slippered feet made muted steps across the stones as she descended the steps on the cool night. A quick look at the parapets showed the guards were ever vigilant. They would not dare shirk the duties the Fenton Bastard gave them. Bitterness rose within her, for she was now convinced her husband had every intention of leaving her. A crusade could take him away for years, even forever. Had she married any other man she suspected she would be helping to pack his horse, but not Garrick. He was the hardest man to get to know, to read and understand, but there was something within him she saw that made it all worthwhile. She knew he was feared as a killer, but what kind of life would he have if he had not seized what he could. What kind of life would he have if he had shunned the order of a king?
She found herself on the parapets, looking out over the dark terrain, away from the guards she could hear moving about. How stark it all seemed without the light of day brightening it. A little like she felt without Garrick. The children helped, but even they were not enough to chase the darkness away from her. Deciding she had spent enough time outside, she began to turn from the landscape, casting one more lingering gaze upon the darkness. She paused. Was that the flicker of flames? She moved to the edge of the wall, staring intently at the glow. Were there more? Was it growing larger?
"Guard," Ryann called to the closest man. The night was late, she was sure the man was not in the best of moods, but his slow pace to reach her side made her irritable.
"Yes my lady."
"There," she said pointing. "Is that a flame?"
The man looked down her arm toward where her finger pointed, squinting into the black night. Another flame seemed to spring to life as they watched. "It's the village," he said with urgency in his voice.
"To arms!" he yelled, making her jump. "To arms! The village is being attacked!"
Ryann thought the guards would charge to the village's defense, but the keep was still under lockdown, so within a short amount of time a strong force of men had gathered in the courtyard and along the walls, but all they could do was watch the flames grow higher and higher and the screams of the villagers soon filled the silence of the night, drifting to them on the building wind.
By dawn the flames had begun to settle, the destruction of the village complete, and Ryann was near tears for she could do nothing to stop the people' suffering, perhaps even their murders. Was it Stroud, or another of Garrick's enemies? The sun broke across the sky and still no one approached the walls, not a villager or an enemy. The wait was maddening. What could she do? She couldn't open the gates to send a contingent of men. Just a small band would be enough to weaken their defenses, and make them more vulnerable to attack. Garrick was efficient in his strategies and knew to the number how many of his men it would take to keep any attack at bay, and he had left that number.
Noon came and went, the sun crawling across the sky. If only it could speak, tell them what it saw just over the hillside. All they could see was the trailing smoke.
"Someone approaches," Christopher alerted her nearby. The shadows of the evening were long, the light of the day had dimmed, and goose bumps skittered up Ryann's spine. Most people would fight in the daylight hours, but Ryann had already surmised this was no ordinary enemy.
"Please help me." It was a child. A girl, her head craning upward to see those who gathered on the wall, as they looked down on her. The light was too dim to be able to make out the girl's welfare, whether she was injured.
"What has happened?"Christopher asked.
"We need help."
"What has happened to the village?" Christopher asked irritably.
"Please help us," she cried, her voice near panic.
"We cannot open our gates. What has happened to the village," Ryann asked in her most soothing voice.
"We need help," she tried again.
"Can you go get an adult to come to us?"
"There are none," the girl said. Suddenly from the darkness that had begun to surround them, an arrow flew, straight at the child. It struck her in the back and the girl made no sound as she pitched forward in the dirt and lay still.
Everyone waited, but there was no sound. Ryann's eyes strained into the darkness, but she had an eerie feeling the darkness looked deep within her, and was reaching for her soul. A shiver raced through her, and she was left cold. The night pressed on. She found her way to her chamber, but found no rest, and returned to the hall where the other restless occupants gathered, waiting. Each moment was suspended in time, stretching to eternity until she thought she would go mad.
By dawn she found herself back on the wall with most of the others who waited with her throughout the eternal night. The cool night slowly began to release its hold to let dawn slip in, bringing with it a light layer of fog, wetting the grass and the line of soldiers who watched them across the way. They did not move, both sides were out of attack range, but Ryann felt fear settling in, soon they would attack. They destroyed the village, killed at least one little girl, whose small body still lay at the base of the wall, and now the enemy watched them. Yes, war sat just outside the walls.
"What do we do?" Ryann asked Alena, as they stood in the damp morning air, their hair and clothes had grown wet.
"We can only do one thing and that is wait, with the hope we can hold out."
Ryann looked to Alena and saw her own fear upon the other woman's face. She turned back to the men waiting.
"What do they want?" Ryann asked of Christopher.
"I have little doubt it is another enemy of your husband's," he said, with a great deal of irritation edging into his voice.
"Then that makes them our enemy as well does it not?" Ryann asked, and th
e forcefulness to her words made it clear she did not appreciate the man's attitude.
"We should send a messenger, find out what their demands are," Christopher said, looking out at the men gathered. If they would only come closer so they could have some level of communication, she thought.
"No," Ryann said. "The gates do not open."
"Ryann," Alena whispered from the other side of her. Ryann turned quickly to see a small boy approach, about eight years old. A sick feeling began to settle in the pit of her stomach.
The boy walked all the way forward to stand at the gate. "Lady Ryann," the boy called.
Ryann went to the edge of the wall where the boy stood to look down upon him. It did not go unnoticed Christopher and several of the other guards clustered closely around her, should the enemy try to shoot an arrow at her.
“What is happening?” Ryann asked, trying to force back the tears that were close to falling.
“We need help.”
“We need to know what is happening,” she heard the plea in her voice.
“Please help us,” the boy replied, and he looked franticly behind him at the handful of men who set upon the hill as they had done earlier.
“I can’t until I know what is happening. Who attacks us,” the last was ended with a sob as the desperation ate at her. It was just like the little girl. Her gaze shifted back to the men and she saw one had a bow raised, an arrow just released as she stared with horror.
“Run!” she screamed. “Run.”
“Now,” she heard Alena urge.
The boy put his feet in motion just in time for the arrow to imbed in the ground just beyond where he had stood. The archer was a good marksman, Ryann thought fleetingly. A chorus of encouragement rose from the wall as the child ran toward the woods. Ryann looked to the men and saw the archer tracking the boy across the open space, before another arrow was released. She watched the arrow move slowly through the air, and she wasn’t sure how it could hang there it seemed to move so sluggishly. All the way to the open space, catching the fleeing boy, where it lodged into the side of the boy’s head. An agonized cry split the air as the voices along the wall silenced. The child fell and convulsed, as Ryann sank to her knees. She emptied her stomach upon the parapet as everyone watched, retching until she had nothing left to empty, and then the sobs began. She was vaguely aware of Christopher and Alena guiding her along the walkway, down the steps, and into the hall. She was seated near the hearth for which she was grateful, because great quakes were beginning to take over. Wine was shoved into her hand and a blanket was quickly draped about her shoulders. She drank the wine, the voices about her seemed far away. Far enough she ignored them and stared into the warm flames. It was some time later she was aware of being guided to her chamber, and with that awareness came the knowledge she had drank too much wine, and was now numb. Yet the boy’s image being struck by the arrow kept floating before her vision, long after the candles had been extinguished, and she lay in the dark.
Angie Arms - Flame Series 03 Page 21