Master of Craving

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Master of Craving Page 24

by Karin Tabke


  Rhodri extended his arm. Arian looked up into his eyes, barely able to see him through the tears she could not control.

  He drew her into his embrace and kissed her cheeks. “You are a vision any man would fight to the death to have, dear sister. Including Magnus. He has been pacing a hole in the hall and now eagerly awaits you in the chapel.” He placed her hand on his forearm. “Come.”

  Refusing to bear witness to the nuptials, Stefan sat in the empty stall beside Arian’s mare, along with his brothers, and emptied a second wineskin. It did nothing to ease the ache in his heart. Longing twisted with a desperate need for the woman he could not have. Emptiness filled his soul, and he felt as if there was no reason to take his next breath. For Arian was his life, and without her, ’twas as if he had no sustenance. And though he would ride, and battle, and see to his king’s needs, the most vital parts of him would be missing. His heart and his soul.

  The clamoring cheers yanked him from his sour musings, and he realized the vows had been sealed. If the destrier had kicked him in the gut it would have hurt less than the sound of the cheering people of Moorwood.

  Despair that he had never experienced even in Jubb now consumed him. On the morrow, he would leave with his brothers and travel to Wales with word of the nuptials, and Wulf would hold his lady in his arms once again. Envy pricked at his gut as the cheers grew louder.

  He threw his head back and took a long draught of wine. “I promised her I would not look back when we rode west,” Stefan said, to no one in particular.

  “ ’Tis for the best,” Wulfson said.

  Stefan’s head snapped back, and he eyed his brother. “Is it?” He shook his head. “I do not know if I can do it!” Misery flooded him.

  ’Twas easy for Wulfson. He had found the one woman in all of Christendom he would love; but Stefan had found his own one and only and now he was to stand aside as she wed another. He drank more of the wine, wanting it to numb his aching heart, but it only made him more morose. And the anger he thought he could control simmered just beneath the surface. He could not control it after all.

  He clenched his jaw and stood, fury, longing, and love filling him. He punched a wooden beam. “I cannot stand the torture of her lying with another!” He threw his head back and screamed his battle cry, then dropped to his knees. “I cannot bear it.”

  For a long time the men were silent. Stefan rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, slowly shaking his head. “I cannot do this,” he moaned. “I cannot sit here whilst that Viking salivates.”

  “Then take her,” Rohan growled. “Take her and be done with it!”

  “Take her?” Stefan asked, incredulous. “She is wed!”

  Wulfson stood and stepped toward him, placing a meaty hand on his shoulder. “Is it lust and jealousy in your heart, Stefan, that drives you? Of having something you cannot have?”

  Miserably, he shook his head. “ ’Tis more. It pains my heart.”

  “Do you love her?” Ioan asked, stepping forward.

  Sudden clarity shook through Stefan. “Aye, above my own life.”

  “Then go to her, man, and plead your case!” Rorick urged.

  “She is wed!”

  Rohan laughed, the sound demonic. “Aye, but there is still a way. An old Norman law dating back to Rollo’s time.”

  “Tell me!” Stefan demanded.

  “Jus primae noctis.”

  “But I am not lord here,” Stefan said.

  “You are captain of William’s guard, and in his stead you are lord here!” Rohan shouted. “Your word is law!”

  ’Twould later be a matter of great debate, but Stefan did not care. He wanted only one thing, and would use an archaic law to grasp it. And even without the law on his side, he would not be denied. He pushed his brothers aside and ran for the hall.

  Arian lay back on the cool linens, her teeth chattering, her knees quaking, modesty overcoming her. She could not bear to meet the eyes of Father John, her brother who could not meet hers, the Norman Sir Ralph, and Magnus’s cousin Helm. All present to bear witness that she bled when her husband performed his duty. All there to bear witness that no sheep’s blood was smeared on the sheets, all there to bear witness that she was a virgin until her husband breached her.

  Even Magnus seemed nervous. Slowly, his man undressed him, as did Jane Arian. When her lady was clothed only in her silken chemise, Jane drew the screen so that she was at least afforded some privacy as she slid into the large bed. Arian pulled the sheet up to her chin and forced herself to watch Magnus undress. When he stood naked before her, she swallowed hard. His manhood stood rigid before him.

  He pulled the sheet back and sat upon the bed as Father John came around to her side of the bed and lifted the sheet so that he could see her.

  “Your pardon, Lady Arian, but ’tis necessary.”

  She nodded. Closing her eyes, she held her breath when Magnus’s great body covered hers. She felt him hard and warm against her thigh and nearly cried out in fear. She did not want this.

  He smoothed the hair back from her cheeks, and softly said, “ ’Twill be over soon, then they will go.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, and nodded, wishing he would get it over with. Slowly she parted her thighs.

  A hoarse shout, followed by a hard thump in the hallway startled her. Arian’s eyes flew open just as the door burst open. Stefan strode across the threshold, his sword drawn, his men behind him prepared for battle.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Magnus demanded, rolling from Arian.

  Her heart beat so hard against her chest that Arian thought she might perish from the percussion. She grabbed the sheet up to her chin and sat back in the bed. Stefan did not look her way, but kept his hard glare on her husband. “In the name of Normandy, I claim jus primae noctis.” Stefan said, his voice low and angry.

  Magnus threw back his head and laughed. “You are not lord here! You have no right. And even were you, that law is not our law.”

  “You will not shame my sister!” Rhodri erupted, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “Nay, Rhod, do not, he will kill you!” Arian screamed, coming to her knees in the bed.

  “Sir Stefan,” Father John said calmly, “ ’tis an archaic law of Normandy, one that would never be upheld. Think of what you demand, and the consequences of the action.”

  Stefan nodded. “The consequence would be a child of Norman and Welsh blood. ’Tis my king’s wish that the blood of both lands blend.”

  “But Wales is not part of the conquest!” Magnus argued. “And you are not lord here!”

  “I am William’s arm.”

  “ ’Tis preposterous! Does your king mean to force Norman blood on the people of this island by raping their women?”

  “ ’Tis an outdated law, to be sure, but still a law,” Stefan admitted, but righteous in his stand. “Remove yourself from the bed, Magnus, or I will have you tried and hanged for treason!”

  Magnus stood furious and naked in the room, surrounded by Norman knights. He would get no aid from his two men, nor from Father John.

  “Do I not have a say in the matter?” Arian demanded, suddenly furious. How dare Stefan?

  Magnus’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, as he looked from Arian to Stefan, and she understood his thoughts. “Nay, Magnus, you are wrong!”

  He nodded, and turned back to Stefan. “ ’Tis a ruse to hide the fact she is not a virgin.”

  Stefan laughed contemptuously. “Have you so little faith in your lady, Magnus? Do you think her so disloyal?” Stefan looked at Arian then, and gave her a short bow. “A more honorable lady I have not met. You do yourself and her a great dishonor questioning her virtue.” Stefan moved to Arian’s side of the bed, but looked across it to the furious Viking. “Dress yourself and be gone from this chamber. In the morn, you will decide if you still want her.”

  “Nay! She is mine now! I will not hand her over, not for one night, not for one minute!”

  “You have no c
hoice in the matter. Go now before you will not be able to.”

  “Nay, Stefan!” Arian cried. “I will not have this!”

  He glared at her. “Nor do you have a choice in the matter, my lady.”

  “Would you rape me then?”

  “I will have you this night. How is up to you.”

  “I will give you this manor and the thousand hides that go with it, if you but leave us now,” Magus pleaded.

  Stefan shook his head. “You offer me what is already mine.” He looked to Rhodri. “Take your brother-in-law from this chamber before I make your sister a widow.”

  “The priest stays! I demand a witness to her virgin blood!” Magnus screamed.

  “Nay, I would not shame her as you have with a witness other than myself.” Stefan spoke slow and measured, so that every occupant in the chamber understood his conviction. “My word is my oath: the blood on the sheets I will produce in the morn will be her virgin blood!” He raised his sword. “Then, my lord, hang it from the highest tower for the entire island to bear witness.”

  Magnus grabbed his braies and chauses, yanking them on. His eyes pleaded with Arian’s to resist, but she did not. Should she, blood would be spilled, and that she would not have on her hands.

  Moments later, the chamber was empty save for her and Stefan. The soft candlelight cast a warm glow across his harsh features. He bowed and sheathed his sword, then turned to throw the bolt, barring anyone entry. When he turned back to her, she could not read his face, but his blue eyes glittered like molten fire in the candlelight. Dragging the sheet with her, Arian came from the bed. She slapped him hard across the face. “How dare you?”

  “I did not plan this to happen, Arian.”

  Fury infused her, so blinding that she could see only white. “What have you done? Why?”

  “ ’Tis simple, Arian. I love you.”

  “You love me? You tell me now? After I am wed?”

  “I did not realize it until now.”

  She laughed harshly. “What you are doing is selfish. All you have ever done has been for your own selfish reasons! Have you never put someone else’s feelings before your own?” She whirled away from him, then turned, glaring at him. “I am not a conquest! I am a woman with feelings. How do you expect me to face my husband?”

  “I will remove him.”

  “Nay, you will not! I am married in the eyes of God! You shame me to my core, Stefan.”

  A stormcloud gathered upon his face. “What is done is done! Tonight you will give yourself to me!”

  “I will not!”

  “You will. If there is no blood upon the sheets, your honor will be forever soiled.”

  “You speak to me of honor? What of yours, Stefan? What honor is there in raping a man’s wife on his wedding night?”

  “The law allows—”

  “The law is barbaric and you know it!”

  “It is the law!”

  Angrily, she ripped the sheets from her body and stood naked before him. “Then take me now and be done with it.”

  “I did not wish it to be this way.”

  “You did not consider anyone’s desires but your own. Take me, Stefan, then leave me.”

  Stefan stepped toward her, their gazes locked in furious battle.

  “Arian, why do you hold back what we both so desperately desire?”

  “I do not want you like this, Stefan. ’Tis too late for us.”

  “Nay, it is not. Come to me, my love.” He moved closer. “Give us this one night, Arian.”

  She shook her head, hot tears filling her eyes, and her heart broke all over again. The one thing she so desperately wanted from him, his heart, he now freely gave, but now she could not accept it. “Should I lie with you, on the morrow Magnus will annul the marriage, and I will hang my head in shame.”

  With his fingers, he lifted her chin so that she could look directly into his eyes. His gentle touch and warm breath soothed her in a way she was not prepared for. “You are too proud to ever hang your head in shame.”

  “Stefan, if we become lovers this night we are doomed.”

  He brought her lips to his. “Nay, I do not believe it.”

  His kiss was just a soft brush of his lips across hers, but it stirred her blood. “Stefan,” she moaned. “ ’Tis wrong.”

  He slid a strong arm around her waist, bringing her against his chest. “Nay, there has never been anything so right in my life as you here in my arms.”

  Arian could not fight what they both knew was meant to be. The fates had conspired not just once but many times to throw them together, only to tear them apart. But not this night. This night nature would finally consummate what fate had conspired. Yet as much as her heart, body, and soul wanted him, she knew in her gut that should she go where he led her, there would be more than Magnus’s pride to suffer.

  Stefan kissed her forehead, then her nose and cheek. His kisses trailed to her ear, his warm breath causing gooseflesh to erupt across her entire body. Her breasts filled and her nipples stiffened. “You smell of exotic places,” he whispered.

  Arian felt her control slipping. He did not press her; he was giving her the choice, and she could not deny him.

  “Stefan …” she breathed, and gave herself up to him.

  “Arian …” he sighed. “My love.”

  He brushed her long hair from her shoulders, pulling back just enough to gaze upon her. “You are beautiful.” He lowered his lips to the pink scar on her breast and kissed it. “Forgive me for my brutishness that day, Arian.”

  “I forgave you the first time you kissed me.”

  His lips brushed a taut nipple, bringing her up against him. Arian closed her eyes and melted in his arms, the sensations he wreaked with his mouth and tongue so wonderfully sublime that she knew she must be dreaming. That he was here with her in her bed, and in moments would be inside her as God had intended man and woman to be, terrified yet thrilled her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, then dug her fingers into his hair, pressing him harder against her breast. He laid her back upon the bed. Naked she lay, unashamed as his eyes roved every inch of her. He spread her long hair out about her like a golden shroud, his eyes devouring her. “I cannot explain how I feel at this moment, Arian. ’Tis terrifying and thrilling, and my heart—” He touched a finger to her lips, “My heart feels as if it is too full. I fear it will burst.”

  Her hand trailed up to his and she sucked his finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. Stefan hissed, and she felt him move against her thigh.

  “Remove your clothes, Stefan, my body grows impatient for you.”

  Grinning, he stood and quickly removed every stitch from his body. When he was naked and full in front of the low candlelight, Arian caught her breath. He reminded her of the ancient Celtic gods, warriors of great strength and power. His scars did nothing to detract from his manliness; nay, they only enhanced it.

  “You are magnificent, Stefan.”

  He eased down on the bed beside her sweeping his hand down her belly to her hips, pressing the heel of his hand gently against her soft downy mound.

  Sensation erupted, wild wanton need flashed, heating her to the extreme. Suddenly Arian wondered how she could have ever denied this man her body. So long she had wanted, and now that desire had turned into a gut-wrenching need that if not sated would drive her mad.

  “Stefan,” she breathed, pressing her hips against his hand. “My ache for you consumes me.”

  He smiled into her eyes and she nearly died—the emotion she saw there was so profound it nearly undid her. A sudden terrible fear grabbed ahold of her gut. This was love in its purest form. The joining of heart and body and soul, and she would be robbed of it forever after this night. Her eyes burned with unshed tears for what she could never again have.

  “Do not cry, my love,” Stefan whispered as he lowered his lips to hers. “I will never be far from you.”

  When he kissed her, in that moment he chased her fear far away. She melted
into him, and let him take her to the place she had wanted to go for so long now it seemed a lifetime.

  “Take me now, Stefan,” she gasped, tearing her lips from his.

  He smiled again and slowly shook his head. “Nay, I want to savor every part of you.” He kissed her cheek, her chin. “Slowly,” he whispered, then kissed her neck, his lips lingering there as his hands reverently cupped her breasts, until his lips found the deep valley he had created. Breathless, she hung suspended in anticipation, wanting all now but deliriously surrendering to his slow teasing seduction.

  He kissed the scar on her breast, his tongue sliding across it then down to her sensitive nipple. He gently sucked it into his mouth. Arian closed her eyes and rose up to him. His arm slid around her waist, bringing her hard to him as his voraciousness intensified. Then just as the passion reared, he let go of her and pressed her gently back into the bed.

  Slowly, tasting every inch of her, his lips traveled lower. He kissed her belly. “You are indescribable,” he said softly against her sultry skin. She released a long slow breath. His lips traveled to the cradle of her hips. “You smell …” His lips traveled lower to just above the soft down that shielded the core of her. He brushed his nose softly across her there, and inhaled her scent. “… like heaven.”

  His warm breath against her there sent delightful shivers of excitement along her limbs, and her sweet hunger for him grew. He kissed the inside of her thighs as his fingers softly stroked where he had just kissed. “Arian,” he breathed, “I burn for you, with the intensity of a thousand suns.” He looked up from her thigh, and smiled softly. “I do not want this night to end.”

  Arian caught her breath at his words. For such a fearsome knight, he was so gentle and patient with her that she wanted to cry. But in his gentle patience he had stoked a wildfire within her. “Nor do I, but for it to end”—slowly, she opened herself to him—“it must begin.”

  His eyes glittered. He nodded, and what he did next sent her shooting to the stars. His lips pressed to her nether lips and he gently suckled her. Arian grabbed the sheets, twisting them in her fists. A rush of erotic sensation shot through her entire body, causing her to gasp for breath. His tongue slid against the seam of her followed, his lips gently sucking. He brushed a finger across her hardened nub and Arian thought she would fall apart.

 

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