Warrior's Revenge

by Coreene Callahan

  Astonishment sank deep. Delight for the compliment followed. The sight of his muscled torso shoved both aside. Aurora blinked. Great goodness, he was beautiful. Like a pagan god come up from the underworld, he stood, legs spread and skin steaming in the chilly autumn air. His black leggings, unlaced and lying low on his hips, provided the perfect framework, surrounding his shaft in folds of dark fabric. Shock spun into anticipation and, sucking in a much-needed breath, Aurora filled her lungs and moved toward him.

  Brigham met her in the middle.

  Hands working fast, he striped her to the skin and drew her deep: into his arms, up against his chest, skin to skin and heart to heart. She moaned in relief. Ferocious need picked her up. Holding on hard, she clung to his shoulders and, with a hop, wrapped her legs around his hips. She needed to get closer. So close no space remained between them. She wanted him…right now. Needed more…immediately. And as yearning melded into must-have, her body throbbed and her spine touched down, meeting the surface of Brigham’s furlined mantle. With a gasp, she accepted his weight and, cradling him between her thighs, tilted her hips in age-old welcome.

  Her heat caressed his hardness.

  He growled, half-curse, half-groan. Both hands settling on her hips, he stilled her. Breathing hard, he nuzzled the hair at her temple. Writhing in his grasp, Aurora thrust up, fighting his hold and…holy god. He felt her. Was struck by the heat, by petal-soft flesh, by the slip and slide and— Bloody hell, he was losing control of their passion.

  He’d intended to take his time. Wanted to explore every inch of her lushness. Yearned to love her long, slow, and sweet the second time. But that wasn’t happening. Aurora was mucking up the plan, refusing to allow him to control the pace. An ambush. She’d sneaked up on him, her eagerness inflaming him as naught else could. Now his good intentions lay in ruin. Goddamn it to hell and back. He’d barely begun to touch her, and she was out of control, so ready he smelled her arousal.

  Reeling, Brigham dug deep, reaching for self-discipline. Nothing. Naught came to his rescue. He was well beyond the point of no return, need so rampant lust consumed him. Only the urge to possess, conquer, and rule existed—the innate, primitive drive of a male to plunder and dominate overwhelmed all. Unable to fight it, he gave into the hunger and circled a thumb against the smooth jut of her hipbone. He watched entranced as she threw her head back in wanton invitation. Answering the call, he slid his hand across her belly and dipped his fingers between her thighs. Skimming past the soft hair, he delved deep. As he assessed her readiness, he spread slick moisture in swirling circles.

  She moaned and arched, pushing against him.

  “Christ! Aurora, I cannot wait … bloody … everlasting … hell!”

  Setting himself at her entrance, he pushed inside. Her body resisted, then gave, accepting his intrusion. With a groan, he closed his eyes, reveling in the long, slow, heated slide, his hardness within her softness. Satisfaction thundered in his veins. His heart kept time as he slid his hands from her hips to her bottom. He pressed her up, adjusting their fit, nudging deeper, taking every inch she gave. Lips brushing her temple, he murmured, encouraging her to accept him more fully, to allow him deeper inside.

  “Aye, like that, Aurora…umm, aye deeper. That’s it, relax…let me in, all the way…oh, aye.” Breathing deep, he watched her, shifting until he cradled her face in his hands. “Open your eyes, loving. Look at me. I am so deep now. So deep and…I want to watch you. How lovely you are.”

  As he talked, Aurora obeyed. Her dark blue eyes met his. Shock lay in their depths. Pleasure too. He hummed, loving the sight—the certain knowledge he pleased her—and withdrew. As he came back, circling his hips, thrusting hard, she gasped his name. His name. Christ, he would never get enough of hearing it. Not on her lips. Not like this…while he rocked between her thighs, loving her in the way she deserved.

  “Brigham, I need…I can’t…”

  “Tell me.”

  “More. Please faster…harder.” Her eyes widened when he upped the pace. “Aye! Oh, aye, please!”

  It was too much, yet too little. He’d never felt anything like it. Had never held a woman so well or wanted one so much. She fit him as no other ever had—ever would—giving him every single piece of her while deep in passion. So he did the same, gauging her pleasure, moving with her in mind, gifting her with more the instant she asked for it. And as she twisted beneath him, begging without words for fulfillment, he lost more of himself with each thrust, with each retreat and every advance. Perfection. She embodied it, wrestling his restless spirit into submission with each hitching sob and…

  And aye, each rasp of his name.

  Grasping fistfuls of his hair, she brought his mouth to hers. “Brigham…Brigham, I…”

  “More, loving? Faster still?”

  “Now! Please, more.”

  “Like this, little heart?” He drew back and returned, thrusting strong to her center. “Is that what you want?”

  Delight spiked, shooting down his spine as she writhed against him. “Again! Oh, aye, just like that!”

  “As you wish,” he whispered. “Take it. It belongs to you.”

  Increasing the pace, he drove her home, making her arch and explode beneath him. Her cry echoed through the treetops, spinning away into blue skies. Inner muscles rippling in an endless rhythm of pleasure, she drew him deep. Out of himself. Into bliss. Shoving him into rapture so hard, he came in a kaleidoscope of color, with a roar of fury and fire.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The Aftermath of Afterglow

  Opening her eyes, Aurora blinked at the blurry assortment of foliage swaying in a sea of blue high above her head. Mind still fogged by passion, she snuggled into Brigham, happy in the richness of the moment and the splendor of boneless aftermath. Her mouth curved as the stir of awareness crept forward. Not wanting to disturb her husband—she liked him right where he was…bare-skinned and pressed snug against her, thank you very much—she resisted the urge to move. Aurora sighed instead, reflecting upon the past hour.

  He’d been so generous. Giving her pleasure. So patient in the throes of passion and, honestly, beyond gentle with her. Incredible in more ways than one. Particularly since most men feared him.

  Reflex urged caution. Habit warned to guard against betrayal and the kind of abuse she’d suffered at the hands of her uncle. Instinct reassured, easing her toward trust, toward acceptance and hope for the future. It frightened her a little. Felt foreign to give herself over to another, so quickly to a man she didn’t know well. But then, Brigham surprised her at every turn. So mayhap she owed him a smattering of trust, a dab of confidence, a chance to show her the way forward.

  As far as plans went, it seemed like a good one. She’d already taken the first step, after all, trusting him with her body. And goodness keep her…look at the unimaginable rewards that had yielded. So no contest. Time to step out, buck up, and put her faith in him. She stood to gain far more, after all, than she would ever lose by allowing the luxury of true closeness with him.

  Taking a fortifying breath, Aurora shifted in his embrace. With a quick roll, she landed atop him. Her gaze on his, she folded her arms on his chest. Interest sparked in his eyes. She didn’t blame him. Her lazy sprawl was shameless, a move worthy of the vixen he liked to call her. Body pressed flush against his, her chin resting on the back of her hand, she smiled at him.

  He raised a brow. “What?”

  Grin widening into devilish, she circled his nipple with her index finger. His nostrils flared. Enjoying the tease, she dipped her head and swirled her tongue around it. “You are very fierce, my lord.”

  Brigham growled. Less than a moment later, he rolled into a fast flip. Aurora laughed as she ended up pinned beneath him.

  Warning her with a look, he grabbed her wrists. Securing both above her head with one of his own, he bared his teeth at her. “And you are foolish to tease when I’ve yet to have my fill of you.”

  “Umm, indeed?” Delighted
in his playful threat, she squirmed, pressing her hips against his. “The consequences, my fierce knight?”

  Dark eyes holding hers, he lowered his mouth to her breast. Teasing her with light strokes, he kissed the underside of each. “You’re about to reap them, wench.”

  With a hum, she allowed him his way, enjoying his mock ferocity. Finding pleasure in his possession, she reaped the benefits of his expertise and ardor. He loved her so well the second round, she lost all sense of time and place. Floating in the fine mist of afterglow, she stirred when he left her an hour later, the loss of his heat rousing her to awareness. Snug beneath her mantle, she watched him cross the clearing to their horses.

  Unabashed in his nakedness, he was as comfortable without his clothes on as he was in them. Fascinated by the sight, Aurora watched him in open enjoyment. Muscles rippled as he moved. His gait smooth and unhurried, he gifted her with the expansive view of his shoulders narrowing to his hips and the taut curves of his backside meeting the sculpted planes of his long legs.

  She sighed. Amazing, really, to find a man beautiful. But she did. The truth of it struck her. Aurora shook her head, calling herself a fool even as she admitted the truth. She not only desired Brigham, but liked him too. Strange, she knew, but her attraction to him went beyond normal, dipping into profound. Something to rejoice in? Or be wary of? She couldn’t tell. At least, not yet. Which meant she needed to pay attention, to make sure she— Brigham turned away from the horses.

  Every thought flew out of her head. Good God. He was…was…

  Heaven help her. The man had no shame, striding across the clearing—out in the open—without a stitch on, giving her a full frontal view. Lips parted on an indrawn breath, her gaze slid over him and, despite the shock, her body quickened at his unwitting provocation. Aurora frowned. ’Twas inconceivable. She’d just had him—multiple times—been so satisfied by their love play she wondered whether she would ever recover. And yet, seeing him naked as a loon, she wanted him again.

  Now. This instant.

  In a mental scramble, she fought for equilibrium, pushing down panic, reminding herself she’d decided to trust Brigham. That meant accepting the vulnerability that went along with it. No matter how uncomfortable or complicated. A promise made was a promise kept. She’d made an important one to herself—and secretly to him. Now was not the time to get cold feet. Her future happiness depended on it. She must start as she meant to go on. Her decision left no room for shyness and none for second thoughts.

  Courage, her heart whispered. Stay the course, her will echoed.

  Aurora nodded. She could do it. Trust him. Lean on him. Let him know her in return. So only one thing left to do: be honest. With him. With herself. With full knowledge going forward.

  Grass rustled beneath his bare feet as Brigham approached her warm haven.

  She smiled in welcome and accepted the satchel he handed her. “What is it?”

  “Lunch.”

  “Oh. You planned this?” Heat touched her cheeks. Aurora bit her bottom lip, pleased beyond measure. Aye, he might desire her in bed, but he also desired her company. ’Twas an excellent start.

  “Of course, little heart.” No doubt amused by her surprise at his guile, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Hungry?”

  “Aye, starving.” Unable to resist, she teased in mock feminine helplessness. “Whatever would I do, my lord, were you not around to see to my belly?”

  “Find me and appeal to my benevolent nature?”

  “Ha, benevolent, indeed. A service that would no doubt cost me a pretty penny.”

  “Aye, it would cost you something all right, and much more than that.” He grinned—the rogue—leaving little doubt what he would require of her.

  With a huff, she shook her head and, tucking the mantle beneath her arms, came up onto her knees to peer into the bag. He snorted at her show of modesty. She ignored him and tightened her grip on the cloak. Stupid, she knew. Especially since he lounged naked in front of her. But despite everything, she wasn’t ready yet. Years of training—of being told modesty equaled purity—weren’t easy to shed. So instead of throwing off decency, she deployed her skill at avoidance, and digging into the sack, spread the lunch out on his mantle.

  Brigham chuckled. The brute. How like him…to be amused by her evasion, leaving her little choice but to— “You do realize…” He paused for effect. His fingers brushed the curve of her over-warm cheek. “I have seen every inch of you, Aurora. There is no need for you to be shy with me.”

  A strangled sound escaped her. Good Lord, his audacity knew no bounds.

  Her gaze met his teasing one. Before she could stop herself, she picked up an apple and threw it at him. “You brutish, unfeeling rogue.”

  He caught the apple with ease and lunged, diving over their lunch to liberate her from the mantle. Backpedaling, she ducked and rolled in the opposite direction, landing with a thump in the spot Brigham had just vacated. With their meal once again between them, Aurora crouched low, awaiting his next move. Delight thrummed through her. “I win.”

  The corner of Brigham’s mouth curved. “We have yet to finish the game, little heart.”

  Meeting his gaze head-on, her eyes narrowed. Each movement slow and sure, she gathered the trailing hem of her cloak and inched backward. “Game, my lord? There is no game, merely the victor and the defeated.”

  “Which do you suppose you will be, Aurora?”

  “It has already been decided, and quite well at that.”

  He growled.

  She squeaked and tugged faster, working to pull bits of cloth into her lap—and realized two things at once. The immediate one—although the least pressing of the two—was that she never should have taunted him. Not the most intelligent thing to do while alone in a dell with him. But the truly alarming fact? The bottom corner of her mantle was now wrapped around his rather large fist.

  Aurora blinked at the hand clenched in the material. Her gaze slid up his arm, then over his shoulder only to collide with Brigham’s dark brown eyes. He grinned—the wretch—and yanked, pulling her off balance. She lurched forward. He caught her. With a shout of triumph, he rolled her under him, pinning her to the ground.

  “To the victor go the spoils,” he said, lips curling against the curve of her neck. “Just in case there is any doubt, little heart, I am the victor.”

  “Blast it all.”

  She bucked and, pushing at his shoulders, tried to wiggle out of his grasp. Brigham chuckled at her attempt to dislodge him and tussled with her. He allowed her the illusion of escape, only to pull her back and pin both of her arms above her head. Nipping her shoulder, he wrapped his hand in her mantle and pulled with excruciating slowness, sliding the cloth from between their bodies.

  “Umm, skin to skin. Much better. Now we can eat.”

  Her modesty in tatters, Aurora sent up a plea for understanding. “Brigham, nay. I know it seems silly to be shy but. . .’twill take me some time to be comfortable with you like this.”

  With tender acceptance in his eyes, Brigham kissed her. Shifting, he pulled her up to sit beside him and wrapped the mantle around her once more. “It is my hope you will become comfortable quickly, for I intend to have you like this often.”

  Surprised, yet pleased too, Aurora released a pent-up breath. He listened well for a brute. Then again, mayhap she should stopped calling him that altogether. Mayhap he deserved better from her. Temptation swirling, she gave into impulse. Her fingertips touched down, tracing his too-beautiful mouth with a gentle stroke. “Thank you.”

  Brigham nodded.

  She dropped her hand from his face. “Tell me of your home.”

  He arched a brow, but allowed the abrupt change of subject. “Mornay Castle?”

  “Aye.”

  Avid interest made her pay attention as Brigham talked about her new home. While they ate, she asked questions about the keep proper, the village, and the surrounding area. As he spoke a number of things became clear. First, he poss
essed a true passion for the land—the forests and glens of his domain interested him no less than the tilling and planting of his fields. The second, and perhaps most astonishing, was his concern and enthusiasm for the people who lived and worked within the confines of his borders. He took his responsibilities seriously. Was involved in all that concerned his people and their livelihoods.

  Astonishing. At least by most standards. And a direct contrast to what she’d experienced while under the thumb of her uncle. But mayhap the most shocking of all? He asked her opinion. Wanted her input. Encouraged her to participate in the discussion and be honest about what she thought.

  ‘Twas shocking, really, to believe her point of view held weight.

  Aurora’s throat went tight. Unprecedented, but…somewhere in the scheme of things she’d become a collaborator as well as a wife. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. God, it felt good—to be honored, trusted, and valued. To be handed the right to speak her mind and rule her own heart…without fear of either being altered or discarded. Gratefulness spun deep and, unable to stop herself, she bridged the distance, slipped into Brigham’s arms, and planted a kiss on his mouth.

  Her husband didn’t hesitate.

  He welcomed her instead and, cupping the back of her head, and kissed her back. Deepening the contact, he settled her in his lap. One moment slid into many before he pulled back to nip at her bottom lip. He tasted her in small, easy sips, lavishing her with attention before breaking the kiss.

  “Do you swim, Aurora?”

  Aurora hummed and tugged at him, wanting his mouth back on her own. “Swim?”

  “Aye, little heart. Swim. An activity comprising arms, legs, water, and buoyancy.”

  Drawing away, she scowled at him. Swim, indeed… her mind might have gone the way of the mists, but she didn’t need a descriptive narration of the activity. “Aye, of course I can. My father taught me when I was a girl.”