He spotted Rook; the large dog had stuck his head out from the last stall to offer a bark at his presence. Faith appeared next, exiting the stall, and was followed by a young stable hand whose arm was wrapped in a bandage up past his elbow.
Eric heard her edict upon his approach. “You will be fine and your courage deserves a reward.” Rook barked at that announcement. She scolded the animal much too softly before continuing. “Go to Mary in the kitchen and tell her you are to have a special treat.”
Another bark from Rook was quelled by a warning look from Eric.
Faith smiled and shook her head and asked of the young lad, “Will you take Rook along and get him a treat as well?”
Rook was about to bark again, but turned a wide eye on Eric and wisely chose silence.
The young lad and Rook was soon bounding out of the stable toward the kitchen.
“You spoil that animal,” Eric said, stopping in front of her and reaching out to pull her into his arms.
She went willingly. “Aye, but I spoil you as well.”
“How so?” he asked, playfully nipping at her neck and sending gooseflesh running along her skin.
“I always let you have your way with me.”
He laughed. “Let me? Poor choice of words, wife. You want me and then you always surrender.”
She gave him a playful punch in the arm.
He in turn hoisted her in the air and moved toward one of the stalls that held a mound of hay, teasingly saying, “I will teach you to be a good wife.”
He was about to toss her down on the hay when she buried her face in his neck, locked her arms around him as best she could and cried softly for him to stop.
Reality dawned on him and he could have kicked himself for being so stupid. He tightened his hold on her and eased her down onto the mound of hay along with him.
He whispered reassurances in her ear. “It’s all right. No one is going to hurt you. You are all right.”
She cried and sighed next to his ear and would not let go of him and he did not force her to. He held her, reassured her and comforted her, all the while berating himself for his stupidity. As soon as she calmed down he would get her out of here and into the keep. Maybe there he would be able to repair some of the damage he had done.
“I am sorry,” she said on a hiccup.
She had finally released the tight hold she had on him and he looked with relief into her dark, teary eyes. “Nonsense, I am the one who needs to apologize.”
She looked surprised. “Why, you did nothing wrong. You simply wanted me.”
“Aye, that I did,” he admitted freely. “But I should have been more cautious with my words and actions.”
“Nay, Eric,” she said softly, placing her cool hand against his warm cheek. “I cannot carry my fear around with me forever.”
He gently pushed her hair away from her face and slowly traced the thin scar with his finger. “Let me rid you of that fear once and for all.”
She shivered. Could she submit to his will here and now, and in a place that was familiar of her attack? Instinctively she knew she had nothing to fear from her husband and yet old memories haunted her. What if she agreed and then could not submit?
“Let me love you, Faith,” he urged with a gentle kiss to her lips. “Let me show you there is nothing to fear.”
But she did fear. She feared reliving the memories and the nightmares. She feared seeing her attacker’s face, feeling the knife slice her skin, hearing her own screams. She shook her head slowly.
“Don’t lock it away, Faith, let me help you,” he said and kissed her again and again, not giving her a chance to respond verbally or deny him.
His gentle aggression worked; she responded in kind, kissing him most willingly, almost hungrily like a woman too long denied.
The sudden need for him startled her and yet she refused to fight it. She wanted her husband, ached for him, and there was no reason she could not have him here in the stable. She shivered at her own thought.
He took command, continuing to kiss her in between shedding his clothes. He would not toss up her shift and have his way with her. He wanted them both naked and he wanted her totally responsive.
It took some coaxing, kissing, and suggestive words to get her to let him undress her. And when they were both finally naked he began a slow, sweet seduction of her body that started at her mouth with lazy nips and kisses and worked its way down over plump breasts, nipples that rolled off his tongue taut and ready and a fiery red nest that welcomed his tongue with eager squeals.
Faith lost all sense of herself and her surroundings. She could think only of her husband and his wickedly delightful tongue, but then her eyes were closed. She shut them when he began and had refused to open them. She would think of Eric and only Eric and where they were did not matter—only what they shared.
Eric moved over her, ready to enter her but not with her eyes squeezed tightly shut. He wanted her looking directly at him. He wanted her fully aware of where she was and what he was doing and how she was responding.
“Look at me,” he ordered firmly and she shook her head.
He shook his own head at her stubbornness, but could understand her reluctance, though it was her strength and courage he wished to see surface. He tried again, this time with a stern firmness. “Look at me, Faith.”
“Nay,” she said, and her ardor began to cool.
He would not allow her to retreat. He did what he did well and took complete command. He claimed her mouth with a demand she could not deny and she moaned when he released her lips with a biting kiss.
He parted her legs. “Look at me, Faith, watch me enter you. Watch me take you. Watch my passion for you.”
He tempted her beyond reason. She wanted to watch him do it all. She wanted to see the full hard length of him slip into her. She wanted to watch as he set a pace she had become familiar with and she wanted to watch the passion fire in his blue eyes. But if she opened her eyes she would see the stable, and what then?
“Look,” he urged, “Look how much I want you, Faith.”
She could feel him. He purposely rubbed his thick shaft against her mound to tempt and torment and remind her of what she was missing. And her body demanded she respond, and quick. She felt the heat engulf her, felt the moistness ready to welcome him and felt the urgency to feel his entrance.
“Come on,” he urged again and moved over her in a deliciously sinful way that had her battling herself. He watched her eyes drift slowly open and he kept talking to her, urging her, reassuring her and inviting her.
She finally surrendered her fear to him with full open eyes and a soft cry of his name from her lips. “Eric.”
“Look at me, Faith, I am your husband, feel how much I want you,” he said and slowly slipped inside her.
She watched his every move and gasped at his easy entrance and smoother penetration until he was completely sheathed deep within her and then he again convinced her to keep her eyes on him as he began to slide in and out of her with a steady, lazy rhythm that stole what little senses she had left.
The hay crunched beneath them, she smelled its freshness and heard the animals, only this time they were quiet, not screeching along with her screams of fright and the man that she saw was not a dark figure intent on murder but her husband intent on pleasuring her. And this was not the stable at Donnegan keep but her home at Shanekill.
Her home.
She was home here with her husband and all was right and good and she could trust the devil. She smiled.
“I please you,” he said with a confident smile.
“Aye, you do,” she admitted and began to move along with him.
“Tell me you want me, wife,” he said teasingly and rose high enough over her for her to watch him move in and out of her and make her feel his every controlled thrust.
She did just that. “I want you, husband.”
“Then take all of me,” he said on a whisper as his lips rushed down to claim hers and
his body rushed to satisfy them both.
They were soon lost in a world of unbridled passion. Nothing mattered, not where they were, who they were, why they were… only that they were one at this moment.
Complete and whole.
They exploded together in a climax that left them stunned and breathless.
Eric collapsed on top of her and though he realized his weight was too much for her, he found it too difficult to move. He was panting and attempting to gain control of his strength. He felt drained, a pleasant drain, but nonetheless a drain of every last ounce of strength he possessed.
Faith felt pleasured beyond reason and safe, safe with her husband’s strong body covering hers. She also felt warm, the heat of his damp flesh toasting her nicely against the chill that raced through the stable.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a whisper near her ear before he pressed loving kisses along her scarred cheek.
“I am,” she admitted softly, rubbing her cheek to his.
He looked at her, his blue eyes gentle in their appeal. “I want you to know you are safe here at your home, no matter where it is you choose to go.”
“That means much to me, Eric.” She smiled and poked him in the shoulder. “But I truly wonder if the stable is a safe place after all.”
His grin was wicked. “If it is a safe place you are looking to be from your husband, you will find none. I will have you wherever and whenever I or you please.”
“There is a time and place for such things,” she scolded, tugging teasingly at the long strands of dark hair that brushed her chest.
“The time and place is of my choice or yours.”
“Promise,” she said, wrapping the silky strand around her finger and drawing his mouth closer to hers. “Promise me that no matter when or where I ask you will not deny me.”
He assaulted her lips gently and said, “I promise.”
“Good,” she said on a laugh and whispered in his ear.
“I will see to that most hastily,” he assured her and slipped off her.
“Now?” She looked at him with startled eyes.
“We both need a good soak in the tub after this pleasurable episode in the hay, so why not together?”
“Truly?”
“Truly,” he agreed with a nod and began dressing. She followed suit.
“The servants will gossip.”
“They are already gossiping.”
“They will think us strange,” she said.
“They will know us happy,” he corrected.
“You are happy?” she asked, standing after pulling on her boots.
Eric picked broken bits of hay from her hair. “Aye, I am very happy, and you?”
“I am most content.”
“With me?”
She stood on her toes to reach his mouth as she said, “With you and all you have so generously given me.”
His arm circled her waist and he hoisted her up so their lips could easily meet. Her kiss was ardent and it surprised him. By the time they broke apart he was fully aroused, another surprise, though a pleasant one.
“I could take you again, here and now,” he said roughly, her lips plump with passion and her eyes flooded with desire, two sure signs that fueled his own heated cravings.
“Nay, ‘tis your chambers where I wish to be with you for the rest of the day.”
“Be sure of what you ask, Faith,” he warned. “For once I take you there it is there we will remain, you and I, in the bath, in the bed and wherever else it is I wish to take you.”
She gave him a quick peck to the cheek and a wide smile before she asked of him, “Can it be done in a chair?”
He laughed and swung her up into his arms. “Remember it was you who asked.”
“But you did not answer?”
“Nay, I will show you instead,” he said and carried her out of the stable, past many startled and whispering peasants and straight through the great hall, shouting orders that a bath be brought to his chambers.
Faith buried her blushing cheeks against his chest and he laughed even harder, promising her that he intended to make her whole body blush tonight.
And he did.
Chapter Twenty-five
Faith watched her husband deal fairly with the people who brought him their problems and though he was known as a good lord and well respected there were still many who feared being in his presence.
Looking upon him sitting on the dais, she could understand why. He sat tall and straight, not slumped or indifferent to those who stood quaking before him. His eyes remained focused on the person presenting his grievance, causing most to look away, unable to meet the intensity of his stark blue eyes. Even the dark red of his clothing caused intimidation since tongues wagged about it being the color of spilled blood. And of course there was his face, so sinfully handsome that the women whispered he could be no other progeny than that of Lucifer himself.
Faith sighed quietly, her eyes and thoughts remaining on her husband. She stood just inside the large doors of the great hall having returned from a walk with Rook. A chill wind and gathering clouds had forced them to shorten their usual lengthy walk, as did Faith’s tired and protesting limbs.
Truth be told, she could not fully blame her husband for her tiredness. It was her own unrelenting desire to pursue the dark lord and make him hers. He treated her well and was generous in all he gave her, except he had yet to tell her he loved her.
And those words she intended to hear spill from his lips.
Her hand covered her mouth, hiding one of the many yawns that had been attacking her since early morning and she looked down to see Rook agree with his own wide yawn. Her glance returned to settle on her husband and he motioned for her to join him. She was about to do so when a commotion at the door had her moving out of the way.
A messenger, dirty and haggard from a long ride, rushed in, demanding to see the dark lord.
Faith watched her husband’s blue eyes narrow and his jaw tighten and she smiled when Colin and Borg rose to full, intimidating height on either side of Eric. The three were a sight to behold and the demanding messenger suddenly turned timid and fell to his knees before the dais.
Faith heard him clearly, his strong voice intentionally filling the hall with his news.
“Lord and Lady Donnegan will arrive within the week. They have graciously sent their priest, Father Peter, ahead to offer his blessings on this keep and all within. He will arrive within a day’s time.”
Eric simply nodded as if the news were unimportant and ordered one of the servants to see to the messenger’s care.
Faith made her way toward the dais, not the least bit concerned with her father and stepmother’s impending arrival. She was confident that her husband had no intentions of returning her to them, though she wondered why he had not informed them of his decision. She would ask him, of late she found herself asking him many questions most husbands probably would find objectionable or refuse to answer. Not Eric, he satisfied her curiosity either with a demonstration or a thorough explanation.
She was smiling to herself and was caught off guard as the messenger stepped in her path. Rook immediately alerted the man to his guarding presence with a low, ominous growl that had the man taking a hasty step back.
“Your stepmother has a message for you,” he said in a low tone that was meant for her ears alone.
She regarded him with cautious eyes.
“She instructs that you follow her edict and take penance and communion with the priest. She says do not disobey her or you will be sorry.” As he said this, he cast an eye to Rook.
He moved away from her before she had a chance even to consider a response. How dare her stepmother threaten her in her own home and with words she knew full well would affect her. She began to tremble as she approached the dais. She grew angry at herself for being frightened and grew angrier at stepmother’s audacity for threatening her in her home where she had finally felt safe and secure.
Her legs
suddenly felt too heavy to move, or perhaps it was because she trembled so that she found it difficult to take another step. Her head felt much too light and she was much too dizzy, as though concentration was impossible. She heard Rook whimper, as if in the distance. Why did he whimper? She would let nothing happen to him, nor would Eric. He would protect them both… of that she had no doubt.
She looked at her husband who seemed to be rising out of his seat and taking flight across the dais as she softly called out his name.
Faith never hit the ground; Eric caught her safely in his arms as she fell into a dead faint. Colin went after the messenger, grabbing the stunned man by the back of his tunic as he attempted to take flight. Borg joined Eric after instructing one of the servants to fetch Bridget.
Rook licked Faith’s pale face and continued to whimper in concern for his master.
Eric grew so alarmed he shouted at Borg, “Do something.”
He was saved from responding by Bridget’s frantic shouts for everyone to move out of her way.
In minutes Bridget had the situation in hand. A chilled wet cloth was applied several times to Faith’s pale face while whispers were spreading like wildfire that the lady of the keep was with child.
Eric, Borg and Bridget heard them and Eric sent Bridget a questioning look.
“I do not know if she is with child, my lord,” Bridget said quietly.
“Good possibility, though,” Borg said with a grin and Eric shot him a warning look that did little good. “You play, you pay.
“Nay,” Bridget said testy, “‘tis my lady who will pay when she lingers in the torturous pains of childbirth.”
This time Eric paled and Bridget felt contrite.
“My lady is strong, my lord. I am sure she will find the pain bearable.”
Faith began to moan softly.
“She comes around,” Eric said relieved.
“I think you should carry her to your chambers. I can better tend her there.”
The Irish Devil Page 27