Borderland Betrayal

by Samantha Holt

  Chivalry. Honour. Two things she rarely saw in anyone. The two things that attracted her to him—aside from his beautiful looks—were the two things that prevented him from taking what they both wanted.

  A few summers ago, she would have felt heartily ashamed at her wanton behaviour, but so much had happened since and Ellise knew that moments like this rarely came along. What was wrong with snatching but a moment’s happiness? On the morrow she would be back to her humble existence, struggling to save up enough money to pay for passage to Spain for her and her son and fighting the visions that haunted her, but for this night she could have revelled in passion and desire with a brave, handsome warrior.

  Jerking upright, Ellise dragged her fingers through her hair until it tumbled nicely over her shoulders. She loosened the neckline of her chemise so it hung low, revealing the top of one breast. Enough hoping and dreaming. She had one night with this man and she would take it. She had herbs to prevent any babes, so why should she not?

  Quietly sliding out of the heavy sheets, Ellise padded over to the washbowl, gave her teeth a quick clean with her fingers, and rinsed out her mouth. Once she’d tugged aside one curtain, allowing some moonlight into the room, she found her apron and retrieved the little bottle of rose oil. She’d been hoarding it for an age and there was only a dribble left, but now was certainly a good time to use it. She dabbed some on her wrists and neck and finally settled her gaze on the sleeping knight.

  Though he slept heavily, long legs sprawled out, he would awake easily. Warriors could sleep anywhere at any time but always roused at the slightest movement. She needed to tread carefully.

  Ellise approached slowly, wincing as a floorboard creaked. She paused in front of him and admired his features as his head tilted to one side. Mouth ajar, Ellise observed the full outline of his lips, so often compressed into a thin line. Aye, this man needed some happiness almost as much as she. When relaxed, his mouth was just as striking as the rest of him. His slightly weather-beaten skin and strong brow begged for her to skim her fingers over it. A tiny scar graced his forehead, just above one golden eyebrow and Ellise promised herself she would trace it during their lovemaking.

  Careful not to press her weight onto him, she straddled his lap. Before she lowered herself, she danced her fingers over those lips, gratified to hear a slight groan. In a quick movement, she sank onto him and pressed her mouth to his. He came awake instantly, his whole body tensing under hers.

  “What in the—” His words were muffled by her lips on his.

  Ellise flattened her mouth harder against his and looped her arms around his neck. He would not deny her this. And he did not want to, if the hardening arousal against her juncture was anything go by.

  “Ellise,” he muttered against her mouth as he curled his hands around her arms and attempted to pry her away, “what in God’s name are you doing?”

  “I should think you would recognise a kiss,” she whispered, trying again. She bucked her hips against his hardness and sighed as it sent a dart of pleasure through her body.

  “You should not be offering me this.”

  “I should and I will. Forget everything. You are no captain this night, James. Nor a knight or a warrior bound by chivalry. This night you are just a man. As I am just a woman.”

  James groaned and his fingers relaxed.

  And then they were in her hair, tugging her head back forcefully to gain better access to her mouth. His strong tongue invaded, twining almost aggressively with hers. Ellise drew in ragged breaths as she gripped at his neck and one hand left her hair to yank at her chemise. His stubble chafed at her skin as he dragged his heated mouth across her jaw and down to the crook of her neck. The light nip of teeth made Ellise tremble and whimper as she kissed the side of his face.

  “Sweet Lord, Ellise.” He punctuated his words with kisses and bites. “You taste so delicious. Hellfire, you are delicious. I could devour you.”

  Ellise chuckled at the way he suddenly mastered his tongue. “It seems…” she leaned into him as he nipped his way up her neck to her ear, “….that desire makes you a maestro of words, sweet knight.”

  “Nay, not desire. You, Ellise.” James drew back and clasped her face in his hands. “Are you certain this is what you want? Tell me now and we shall forget this happened. I would not hold it against you. I have no wish for you to feel beholden to me. If you do this, you do this because you want to, not because of some debt you feel you owe.”

  Hips raised, she rubbed herself against his arousal, making him hiss. “I want this, James. Take me. This night.”

  A feral growl rose from his chest, resonating in her own as he clasped her tightly to him, his hands coming under her bottom. He stood swiftly, making her squeal and coaxed her mouth open with his unyielding tongue. Hands still around his neck, Ellise held on for dear life as her head swam. She did not fear him dropping her, but she feared she might be consumed by lust. Her body ached and trembled and yearned for him. She’d never known anything like it.

  The taste of him, a subtle hint of ale and fruit, teased at her and she pressed deeper as if she might somehow make his kisses last forever. By some means he managed to carry her over to the bed without stumbling, and he laid her down. He stepped back and drew open another curtain. The additional light highlighted his intense expression, one that sent a shiver through her. Mayhap he really did wish to devour her. Her breath hitched as heat pooled deep in her womb.

  “Remove your chemise, Ellise.”

  Ellise blinked but brought her hands to the hemline of her shift. Her bravado deserted her suddenly and she had to force her limbs to work as she hauled it over her head and shook out her hair. All nerves left her as James’ gaze traced her body. She lay back once more, spread out and waiting for him. He stalked forward, his boots thudding against the floorboards and her throat tightened with longing. The bed creaked as he sat on the edge and swiftly removed his boots. His chausses came next, followed by his braies but he left his shirt on. Ellise frowned, aching to see that taut skin under the linen but she welcomed the chance to remove it from him.

  James twisted and took a moment to admire her. His eyes gleamed as he tracked every part of her body, and her nipples tightened. She fought the urge to squirm and beg, knowing she wanted this to last. She suspected that as soon as they touched it would not be long before they were racing to the edge.

  “Take off my shirt,” he commanded quietly. “I wish to feel your hands upon me.”

  Ellise scrabbled over to him and pressed herself against his back, enjoying his warm skin through the linen. Then, slipping around, she straddled him once more. His hands were everywhere suddenly. In her hair, sliding over her shoulders, clasping her breasts and buttocks. She tried to concentrate on loosening the last bit of his laces but his mouth came over her nipple, the sharp heat making her tremble and fumble at his shirt.

  “How am I...? How can I…? I cannot even think when you do that!” she exclaimed with a moan.

  He chuckled against her skin and with one last seductive bite at her nipple, withdrew and allowed her to tug his shirt over his head. Palms flat against his chest, the fervent longing grew as she studied him. Aye, a warrior no doubt. Broad shoulders, carved muscles, the odd scar… his taut skin beckoned to her and she let her lips linger over his collarbone and down before reaching between them and curling a hand over his arousal.

  She took the time to explore the heat of him, moving her fingers across each soft yet hard part. And he allowed it. Until a harsh curse resonated and he snatched her hand and flung her onto the bed. He followed, his weight coming on top of her. The sharp contrast between them, hardness against softness stole her breath but he barely allowed her a moment to get used to it before bringing his mouth to hers. This kiss was hard, demanding, and astonishingly sensual. As if every word that he failed to utter was expressed in that kiss. The feeling of being so wanted almost brought tears to her eyes.

  Shifting to one side, James traced a hand over her
side, stopping to clasp one breast and roll her nipple before dropping to the apex of her thighs. One finger slid between her folds, lingering there as she writhed against the touch.

  “James,” she uttered. “James, pray…oh…”

  He sank a finger in, swiftly following it with another. “Ellise… Hellfire, you are so hot and sweet.”

  The swift invasion sent her rigid as his thumb played over her sensitive spot and she moved her hips in small pulsing movements against his hand, the sensations both a relief and utter torture. She felt cold without his lips on hers, so she clutched the back of his head and kissed him fiercely.

  “You are a demanding wench,” he managed to utter between kisses.

  “Aye, just as you are a demanding rogue.”

  As if to prove how demanding he could be, he forced the kiss deeper, along with his fingers, working them vigorously within her until the idea of begging for mercy entered her mind.

  Mercy? Nay, relief mayhap. Tearing her lips from his, she pushed roughly at his shoulder. He allowed her to force him back and he removed his hand. Ellise straddled him once more, raking her nails down his chest and around the hair of his manhood. Though he permitted her to remain on top, Ellise recognised that he remained in control. This was the captain in him, she realised. The man who expected people to follow his orders, even his lovers. Could she break that control? She had inched in already. Convincing him to make love to her was a testament to that, but could she snap it entirely?

  She wriggled against him, allowing her heat to glide over him and he grimaced, his gaze locked on hers. “Let go, my knight,” she whispered, as she repeated the moment. “Fierce knight, just let go.”

  “I am but a moment away from losing all control, Ellise,” he forced out through gritted teeth. “You should not wish it so.”

  “Nay, I do wish it,” she said softly, rocking back and forth.

  When she slid forward once more, he used the opportunity to thrust ferociously up into her, making her gasp in surprise as his solid flesh invaded.

  The sharp stab of pleasure immobilised her for a moment and a flicker of hesitancy came across James’ expression, his scowl deeper than ever.

  Before he could apologise for his actions, as she knew he longed to, Ellise surged forward drawing a strangled sound from him. Already sensations stronger than anything she’d felt before rolled through her. She gripped the sheets around her as James’ green gaze roamed her body and one hand closed over a breast. Again he rammed up into her, eyes lighting as she cried out. He quickened the pace and Ellise flattened both palms against his firm stomach for leverage.

  She never knew. Never knew it could be like this. Santa Maria! Yet she had known somehow, or else she would never have seduced him into bed. Though at the moment, she wondered quite who was doing the seducing. Her whole body tightened and she scrunched her eyes shut, tilting back her head as wave after wave built. Distantly she heard him repeating her name and urging her to the edge as he pounded up into her. It worked. His voice led her there, throwing her over until she saw colours behind her tightly closed eyelids.

  Hands upon her back urged her limp body forward and she flopped against his chest, the warm strength of it drawing her back to reality. She opened one eye, then the other and angled her head to glance up at him. His jaw filled most of her vision but he lifted his head a fraction so as to gaze down at her, a skewed smile on his lips.

  “Forgive me,” she breathed. “You have not yet had your pleasure.”

  “Ack, not to worry, lass, I intend to take it. But I think you’ll be no good where you are.”

  “Aye, you have drained me, but I am no weak maiden. You may take your pleasure now.”

  “I will take it, Ellise, just as I shall bring you more,” he vowed with such seriousness that Ellise had to bury her face against his chest to prevent her giggle.

  Never had she met a man who took bedsport so seriously. The few she had known cared not for her pleasure, yet he took it upon himself as if it were some kind of duty. It delighted her that he should care so much for her needs at the same time as saddening her. This warrior needed to learn to take a break from duty.

  Wriggling against the hardness inside her, Ellise slid her lips across his chest and licked a nipple. His hands threaded into her hair and she felt this rise and fall of his chest increase. She did the same to the other nipple, still working her hips in a circular motion. Her knight would lose control. Ellise would make sure of it.

  She glanced up to see the veins in his neck tighten as he fought for restraint and impulsively she licked her way up before nibbling on his ear. Her breath against his skin made him shudder and he groaned.

  “Ellise, you wish to torment me?”

  “Nay,” she whispered against his ear, “I wish to break you.”

  She sucked on his lobe for emphasis and came back to sitting. She allowed her hands to trail over her breasts, down and down until the tips of her fingers pressed over her sensitive folds. A strange sound, like a roar came up from him yet it was quiet and almost whispered.

  In a whirl of lips and hands, he pulled her face to his and seized her mouth in a demanding kiss. The breath was sucked from her. Ellise tried to keep up but he moved too swiftly, removing his hands from her hair and grasping her buttocks. He flipped her over, their bodies breaking apart briefly as James pinned her legs around his hips.

  A look at his expression made her chest compress, not with fear but with elation. She had broken the brave bold warrior. She, the simple peasant girl, had snapped through his control. It excited and thrilled her.

  “Ellise, forgive me.”

  With one swift lunge, he sheathed himself in her.

  “You…need…no…forgiveness…” she grated out as he pressed forward, again and again.

  The pleasure built once more as they moved as one, Ellise bucking into his every thrust. His green gaze held hers, potent and powerful, and Ellise was hit with the sense that they were exchanging more than just pleasure. An understanding ran between them. A sense of no longer being two individuals but one entity. The idea saddened her, for it could never be, but the press of his lips against her chin and mouth swiftly banished the emotion, replacing it with wonder as pulses of gratification streamed through her.

  Her name came from his lips, a sound that promised to remain forever with her and he moved harder and faster until they reached the peak together. Their cries mingled in the air until they collapsed. James rested his head in the crook of her neck, heavy breaths blowing in her hair and she massaged his back, following each muscle.

  “You have broken me, sweet Ellise,” he whispered hoarsely. “Does that please you?”

  “Aye.” Ellise grinned and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Aye, it pleases me very much.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  James twisted in his sheets as the heat of summer pervaded the room. He woke already damp with perspiration, eyes gritty from lack of sleep. Rubbing them, he groaned as heavy snoring echoed through the wall and threatened to shake the candelabras from the roof. Rolling off the sleeping pallet, James forced himself up and tugged on his chausses before slipping his feet into leather boots.

  He glanced into the guard’s quarters to see that only the night watchmen remained. All others were at their station. Aside from him. Ack, but this was the second morn this sennight he’d slept late. And the damned soldiers let him, likely fearing their captain’s wrath.

  The rough texture of too much stubble greeted him as he rubbed a hand over his jawline. Aye, he needed a shave. And a bath. His father would be heartily ashamed of him; he hardly fitted the image of a captain. Late, unkempt, tired. He needed to get a grip.

  Determined to no longer contemplate the fate of a certain woman, he shoved aside the lingering memory of obscure dreams and stepped out of the shadows of the quarters into the bright morning light. People and animals filled the courtyard, the day well under way and James almost stumbled into several pigs as they were herded tow
ard the kitchens.

  The well sat to one side of the bailey and he had to wait as the twins—Mary and Margaret—drew water. He scowled and folded his arms as they eyed him with a giggle, buckets in hand.

  “Good morrow, sir,” Mary greeted him.

  “Good morrow, Mary.”

  “I am Margaret! I do believe his mind is addled from lack of sleep,” Mary said, nudging her identical sister, who laughed.

  “Aye, our fair Captain is in need of some rest and a good bath, methinks.”

  James narrowed his eyes at Mary. The maids had worked at Thornewall for many years and James was well accustomed to their teasing and tricks. Though to the untrained eye they looked the same in their tight wimples and pale blue gowns, they would not fool him.

  “‘Tis why I am here, is it not, Mary. I know you well enough. You have the finer figure while your sister has the finer face.”

  “Ack, ye’ve never known how to take a jest, but ye are worse than ever,” Mary grumbled as her cheeks flushed.

  They turned their noses up, giving James a small sense of satisfaction. “Good day to ye, Captain,” they said simultaneously.

  James cursed under his breath as the maids sauntered past him. He was loath to admit it, but he had been in ill humour ever since his return from Durham. Mary had shared his bed occasionally before he went and she’d been put out when he declined her company upon his homecoming.

  Of course, Ellise having left him before he had even awoken did not help matters. Indeed, she was the sensible one. What would he have done with her? He could hardly have returned to Thornewall with a thief on his arm, but he would have liked to have done something to aid her. Found her a job mayhap.

  Waking up with her in his arms might have been nice, too.