by Brenna Lyons
He tightened his hand around her slightly and bent his head to whisper next to her ear. “Be still. We will use this to present the first of many scenes.” In truth, Pauwel didn’t care about the scene. He simply wanted an excuse to keep her in his arms and bed as long as he could manage.
Her struggle ceased. Regana nodded and sank back to her nest against him. He brushed his beard through her hair, laying his lips to the silken strands as he laid back.
“Come in,” Pauwel invited.
Kethe popped her head around the door and smiled a knowing smile at the scene before her. “Ditrich and Gawen came to fetch you on their way to train, but I sent them away. They do expect to see you sometime today,” she teased.
“Soon, Kethe,” he crooned, drinking in the look in Regana’s eyes.
He could feel her nervousness, but he could also feel her arousal. It may frighten her, but there was a definite chance for a true marriage with her. He thanked several of the ancient gods and the new god of his grandfather for their mercy on his soul in granting that wish.
Kethe chuckled as she removed herself, closing the door carefully.
Regana sighed in relief. “She’s gone,” she reminded him quietly.
“Is this really so terrible?” Pauwel asked, drawing her closer to him, reluctant to release her so soon.
Regana closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing as her breasts swelled against him. “No, it’s not,” she admitted.
“Good, because we will have to do this type of thing often. I’d like to think you don’t dislike it too intensely.”
“I don’t,” she whispered.
Pauwel felt a sudden urge to push the limits a little, to gauge her response to him. “It may be called for— I may have to kiss you from time to time. Would that be too uncomfortable for you?”
She looked at him in surprise, and her body stiffened. “Kiss? In public?” she asked nervously.
“Ah, that’s right. Your — intimacy has always been private,” he mused. “Let me show you.” What was intended as a command came out a request.
Regana locked on his eyes, and he was afraid she would refuse him. Finally, she nodded in a jerky movement.
Pauwel turned to face her, moving his hand from her hip to her face. He cupped his fingers around her cheek and ran his thumb over her jaw and lips. Regana trembled slightly at his touch and her eyes dilated in shock, but he could feel her body temperature rise in response. He leaned his face to replace his thumb with his lips, teasing her with the feel of him without demanding anything in return.
At first, her lips hardened. Regana’s hands locked against his chest like a shield, not pushing him away but keeping Pauwel at a constant distance. Her shield was not relaxed, but her mouth softened beneath his in a mute surrender to his attentions.
Pauwel flicked his tongue lazily over her lips, tasting her. Regana shuddered against him and bit back a small sound in her throat. As he ran his tongue along the slight opening of her mouth, she melted against him and simultaneously granted him the access he craved.
Her tentative side fell aside abruptly, as his tongue surged forth into her waiting mouth. He startled as he realized that she was suddenly on familiar ground. Her reactions were hot and demanding, and Pauwel found himself torn. Part of him wanted to follow the heat between them as far as it would lead immediately. Regana was obviously willing to give him this, and he needed it so very badly. Another part of him argued that such actions would make him not much better than Jörg had been.
Regana’s reactions told a story. The impetuous pup had wronged her even more deeply than Pauwel had realized. He had never taught her the sweet, slow, kind touch a man could use when making love to a woman. Demanding was all she knew, all he taught her. For that reason alone, Pauwel could not be demanding. Damn Jörg for this! He sobered. Jörg was damned, all right.
He cupped her face with both hands and slowed his pace to a torturous exploration of her. Regana matched his pace. She moved against him in a haze borne of passion. Pauwel pulled his face away and met her eyes solidly.
Regana searched his face. She seemed to wilt into a hopeless unhappiness as she looked at him. She dropped her gaze from his and wrapped her arms around her breasts, hard and heavy in her obvious excitement. It took a moment for him to realize that she was stifling sobs.
“Regana,” he soothed her, touching her cheek gently.
She shrank from him, trembling, seemingly frightened of his touch.
“Please, tell me what’s wrong. Have I hurt you somehow?” There had to be some reason for this response. What had he done wrong?
“No,” she assured him brokenly.
“Then what?”
“You deserve better,” she choked out. “Why did you agree to this marriage? I know why I did, but why would you do this?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re a good man, Pauwel. You deserve a real lady, not someone like me.”
“Someone like—” He felt his temper start to burn. “I fail to see what you think is wrong with yourself,” he growled.
Regana tensed in his arms, and Pauwel willed his voice to gentle. He was frightening her, and he had no urge to do that.
“You made a mistake. You gave yourself to a man you loved. I can’t speak for his feelings, but I know he didn’t treat you the way he should have. I know he didn’t show the proper concern and care for you. He took you, possessed you, but he never showed you tenderness. What I just did— You’ve never felt anything like it, have you?”
She looked at him in confusion. “I am too bold. I curse like a man. You deserve a gentle lady,” she argued uncertainly.
“You are bold only because that is all you were taught. Would it make you feel better if I forbid you to curse?”
Regana furrowed her brow.
“It wouldn’t,” he assured her.
“Now,” he continued, “you may try to defend him to me, though I hope you do not, but I will tell you the truth of Jörg. He has wronged you in every conceivable way a man can wrong a willing woman right up to leaving you the way he did. You have nothing to feel guilty for. You trusted him to behave as an honorable man should have. He didn’t. If I am reading your reactions to my overtures correctly, he never did. When he took your maidenhead—”
Regana startled and tried to push away violently, her eyes wide.
Pauwel dragged her back to his chest, stilling her flailing hands as gently as he could. “Don’t,” he breathed. “I am not Jörg.”
She shook in his embrace, but her struggles ceased.
“Did he take you tenderly then, at least?”
Regana didn’t reply.
“Did he?” he asked more forcefully, keeping his voice a mere whisper.
“It is supposed to hurt the first time,” she replied brokenly. “I’ve always heard that.”
“Yes, it hurts,” he ground out, “but tenderness can minimize the pain. He didn’t do that for you, did he? Jörg was demanding. He was always demanding. Wasn’t he?”
“He didn’t— He was too far,” she stammered. “His printing was too far for it to be different. Please, you don’t understand.”
Pauwel stilled, his mind working on that damning statement. “He didn’t ask your permission,” he breathed. “He took you unwilling.”
“He didn’t ask my permission, but he didn’t— He couldn’t—” She closed her eyes, a pained expression on her face. “I loved him,” she whispered, seemingly tortured by the admission. “I wanted...” Her eyes opened again. She faltered, her eyes pleading with him, as if she were uncertain what she wanted even now.
Gods, but she was confused. Pauwel started to question her several times but stopped himself, his mind rebelling at what she was saying. Jörg hadn’t asked her permission, but she believed him incapable of it. What had she forgiven him? How heinous were his crimes?
“Unready then,” he ventured, praying he was wrong. “Demanding and unready?”
Regana shudd
ered, no doubt reliving memories that were best forgotten. “I—” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if blocking them out of her mind.
Pauwel tried to push away visions of Jörg forcing himself into her dry body, taking what he wanted. Why had she not turned him over to Gawen? But, the answer was obvious. She’d loved him, and she was confused – perhaps frightened of what Jörg was capable of.
“He didn’t even grant you a kind hand in convincing you, did he?” Pauwel caressed her arms, suddenly aware of his fingers biting into her skin. What was he doing? She’d suffered enough of that sort of thing, he was certain.
“Like you did when you kissed me?” she asked in confusion.
Her uncertainty wounded him. Gods alive, what had Jörg done to her? Had she no concept at all of the respect and care she should have been shown? Apparently not. It was time to teach her. “Like that,” he agreed.
She shook her head and buried her face in his chest. He uttered several curses under his breath, and Regana pushed from him as far as his arms would allow.
Pauwel felt his Blutjagd spike at that. She was afraid of him, afraid when he was loving and afraid when he was angered. It seemed that no interaction would be safe until Regana learned what was appropriate from a man and what was not. Damn Jörg!
“You owe him nothing beyond contempt,” he spat. “I cannot even excuse him for his youth and inexperience. He knew. He could not have been tutored by the older women and engaged in all the conversations of the last year and not know.
“I will admit something to you, Regana. He was not the only man who wanted you.”
She looked at him in shock.
“Who wants you,” he qualified. “Why did I agree to this? Because, I can’t live without you.” He drew her hand to his erection, still pulsing in his need despite his anger because she was in his arms.
Regana stilled as she realized what he was telling her. Her breathing hitched. She met his eyes, fear warring with confusion in her expression. She didn’t know what to expect from him. Considering her past, that wasn’t unexpected.
“I want you, Regana. I want ours to be a true marriage, but I will not take you as Jörg took you.” Pauwel removed her hand slowly. “When you are ready to learn tenderness, come to me. Until then, I will ask only what we must present in company.”
He kissed her forehead and left the bed. His body screamed at him for what he was doing, and her look of amazement as her eyes surveyed the naked and aroused length of him wasn’t helping. Pauwel covered himself quickly and pulled a practice tunic over his head to hide the evidence of his present condition.
“Pauwel?” she called softly.
“Yes?” He kept his voice even, not willing to risk spooking her with a reaction at either extreme that pulled at him.
“I found an amber pendant in your mother’s trunk. I tried to give it to Kethe, but she said it wasn’t your mother’s. She said you had it made for your chosen wife.”
Pauwel snapped a look at her. She was more than a little frightened by that concept. What did she need to be at ease? Pauwel would willingly do whatever it was, but he had no idea what Regana sought with that comment.
“I had it made for you,” he assured her, praying it was the response she hoped for.
“Are you sorry, now, that you did?” she asked with tears in her eyes.
His eyes widened in shock. “No, I’m not. Someday, you’ll wear it for me.”
She nodded shakily as he turned away again.
Pauwel kept his back to her as he used the trunk to wrap the bindings for his boots around his legs and fastened his weapons belt around his waist. “I must go. Wedding night or not, I must go to training now.”
“I understand,” she managed. “I will accompany you tomorrow.”
“I would appreciate that,” he answered in that same even tone.
“Don’t. It is a small boon you ask, much less than I am asking of you.”
He faced her in disbelief. “I wouldn’t just appreciate it,” Pauwel assured her. “I would enjoy it. It’s a selfish thing I’m asking.”
“Not so selfish. I don’t think you’re capable of being truly selfish.”
“You pay me far more honor than I am due.” He left the chamber quickly before he could prove that point. Gods, but his blood was screaming at him to release his morals and take her in the way she was obviously accustomed to. Pauwel couldn’t do it, and he knew he would rather face Gawen’s blade than give in to it, so he had to leave.
“Will you eat, Pauwel?” Kethe offered, as he passed through the main room.
“No. I am late.”
“Happily so, I am sure.”
“Yes,” he agreed as he headed for the door, knowing his face would tell his sister more than he wanted her to know.
“Pauwel?”
He paused with his back to her.
“Midday meal,” she reminded him as she set the food wrapped in a scrap of cloth into his hand.
He nodded and started for the door again. “Kethe, see that Regana gets some rest today. This has been a storm of emotion and events for her. She needs to get her bearings.”
“I will. Don’t concern yourself, Pauwel. I’ve seen the kind looks she has for you. Regana may be frightened or upset at the turn of events, but she’ll soon be the same woman you came to love. Trust me.”
Pauwel nodded and headed down the dirt track through town to the training area. He snorted at Kethe’s parting statements. What he wouldn’t give to be able to start over. The best he could hope for was that Regana would come to him and let him teach her the gentler way, to start them off right from here. Pauwel just prayed she’d do that before he lost his mind.
* * * *
Gawen watched Pauwel as he trained. The young warrior was distracted, and the others noticed it as well. He was still holding his own, but his mind was nowhere near the training area. Where he was dangerous in his lack of control the previous day, he was dangerous in his inattention now.
Finally, he called the hold for the meal and approached Pauwel. “Come eat with me,” he issued in invitation that his eyes added the order to.
Pauwel didn’t meet his eyes. He nodded mutely and gathered his package of food. Pauwel led the way to the treeline and sank to the earth with his back to a young tree.
Gawen sighed as he surveyed the other man. “I don’t like what this is doing to you, Pauwel.”
“I’m fine. I just have a lot to think about,” he countered as he took a bite from a huge chunk of bread.
“Regana?”
“Some of it,” he admitted.
“If it’s going to make you this inattentive, return her to me now. I won’t have you injured or killed to protect her name.”
Pauwel stared at him in shifting emotions that swung from disbelief to dismay and settled on a steely anger. “No. She is not leaving my home, though leaving now would not harm her good name. Kethe knows that Regana is with child and that the child is mine. That is all anyone need know. The rest— The rest will simply take more time to work out.”
“This is not part of your duty,” Gawen cautioned him. “I was wrong to let you offer this. Regana—”
“Regana is not at fault here,” he growled out dangerously.
“She allowed—”
“That damned pup knew exactly what he was doing. I will not tell you all I have learned. I don’t think that is necessary. Nor do I think Regana would thank me for it. Believe me when I tell you that she has been used in the worst possible ways. His lack of tenderness and regard were so complete that she now fears a kind hand, Gawen. He wanted satisfaction, and he used everything he knew to get it, everything but the basic considerations that he should have shown her. He didn’t even…” Pauwel looked at the bread in his hand and threw it into the woods in annoyance, followed by the rest of his food.
Gawen took a deep breath and forced his heart to slow. He had naturally assumed that Regana was largely to blame for her current situation. The idea of her being manipu
lated or mishandled hit him hard. How could he miss something like that? “You’re sure about this?” he managed.
“I’m certain. As near as I have been able to determine, she allowed it because she believed his printing made him unable to do better by her.” He shook his head and laid it back against the tree.
“Are you saying—” He found that he couldn’t even think the worst, let alone say it.
“The fact that she was ultimately willing in some fashion is about the best I can say for him. Though how willing, I cannot say,” he grumbled.
Some fashion? Gawen felt his heart sink. What had Veriel done? “Then I have even less right to expect this of you. I should have protected her. She is my responsibility,” he decided.
Pauwel swung those cold, dangerous eyes to Gawen. “She is my wife,” he growled. “She is not leaving my care. Not even you will take her from me.”
Gawen’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re printing,” he guessed. “It’s always been Regana. She’s the one who was missing at the choosing ceremony, the one you wanted to choose.” Suddenly, so many things made sense from his willingness to accept this burden and Regana’s child to his unwillingness to accompany Gawen home after his crushing blow at the ceremony. Facing her at that moment must have seemed like a version of the Christian hell to him.
“Yes,” Pauwel admitted.
“Return her before it’s too late,” he ordered urgently.
“It’s already too late for that. If I lose her, I die.”
“Will she accept you?”
“In time. I know the damage is not complete. Regana has the capacity to accept me as her husband. I just have to give her space and let her come to me.”
“How much time?”
Pauwel shrugged.
“No. This isn’t acceptable.”
“It’s unavoidable. I will not take an unwilling woman.”
Or even force an unwilling woman into some fashion of willingness. “She’s your wife,” Gawen protested. “No matter what ridiculous promise you made her, you must use whatever is at your disposal to help her turn to you, and you must do it quickly.”