by Amy Jarecki
Arching her back, she smoothed her sizzling flesh along his length.
Titus moaned and circled his hips. “You are driving me to the brink of madness.”
Her thighs shuddered. “I need you to join with me now.”
Deftly, he fluttered kisses along the length of her neck. “But I must see to your pleasure first.”
She reached between their bodies and grasped him. “I want you.”
Titus’s chuckle rumbled inside her, all the way from her breasts down to the core of her womanhood. She guided him to her entrance and shifted her hips until he slipped inside.
He gasped and held himself still. “I won’t last long.”
“Nor I.” Sinking her fingers into his bottom, she tugged him deeper inside. “Ye feel too good.”
Titus met her gaze. Even in the darkness the intensity of his eyes showed her the depth of his love. Joined by love and intimacy, they were as one, and his eyes expressed the same raw emotion coursing through Elspeth’s blood. With the demands of her fingers, he slid in and out in a steady rhythm.
Gradually, Elspeth’s breathing sped. Higher and higher, he took her to the pinnacle of passion, but when a cry caught in her throat, he clenched his teeth, thrusting faster and faster until Titus covered her mouth and muffled their cries of ecstasy.
A tear streamed from the corner of her eye as she caught her breath. “I love ye.”
“I love you more than life. I’d die for you.” He kissed her cheek. “You know that, do you not?”
“Aye.” She’d do the same for him and suspected there was no need to say it.
Titus rolled to his side and traced his finger around Elspeth’s breasts. “We must marry soon before you are with child.”
She gasped.
He rose up on his elbow. “Are you?”
How long had it been since she’d seen her courses? She clapped a hand over her mouth.
Titus’s eyes grew round. “Tell me. Could you be carrying our child?”
She counted back. “Mayhap.”
“When did you last…?”
“Before the first time we…ah…I lay in your arms.”
“You are.”
She smoothed her palm over her breast. It ached as if it were swollen. Her mouth grew dry.
Titus gathered her in his arms. “This is wonderful news.”
But it wasn’t. No one knew she’d been with Titus—especially Greum. What would her kin do if they discovered her secret? Elspeth jolted upright. “We must perform the marriage ceremony now.”
His eyebrows knit. “Do you not want a wedding with your people?”
“Nay.” She shook her head. “If I am with child it has gone past that.”
“What?”
She stood and pulled him up and dragged him to the center of the clearing. “Stay.” She gathered handfuls of dirt and sprinkled them in a circle around him.
“What are you doing?”
“Wait.” She brushed her fingers, releasing the last bit of dirt then stood beside him. “The circle has now been cast. We now stand upon sacred ground, encircled by mother earth in a ring that cannot be broken.” She gathered Titus’s hands in her palms.
“Are we…?”
“Wheesht.” Elspeth closed her eyes. “The circle itself is an infinite thing. It is magical and never-ending. It will never change and yet will always be adaptable.” She swayed. Titus followed her lead. “Like the circle, love is infinite with no boundaries, no restrictions. Whether light or dark it flourishes and blooms. Love is. It cannot be forced. It knows no bounds. It cannot be taken away. Our love is a gift we give ourselves with reverence and honor.”
She opened her eyes. “I pledge to you my sacred gift of love.” With no ribbon, she wrapped her tresses around their joined wrists.
Titus inhaled and stood tall. “I will always love you, Elspeth. You hold my heart in your hands.”
She smiled. “When two people come together with the gift of love, it is the most sacred gift of all. They are joined as man and wife in the eyes of the heavens. They are two souls coming together to form one single being, two hearts beating in perfect rhythm.” Rising up on her toes, she kissed him. “We are married.”
“You are truly a wonder.” Titus pulled their bound hands to his lips. “I would have it no other way.”
****
Elspeth opened her eyes to the brilliant pink-orange glow of the sunrise. With Titus providing warmth spooned against her back, she wished she could stay there all morning. She shifted and a stone jutted into her hip. Alas, there was a battle to be fought.
Titus stirred beside her. “You smell like a newborn lamb in the morning.” He nuzzled into her neck.
If only they could tarry. “Ye’d better save yer amorous advances for another time, else the Romans will ride past.”
“True, though I cannot help myself with your exquisite bottom pressing against me.”
She wiggled away with a playful giggle. “Come, let us see what yer countrymen are up to this morn.”
They scooted to the edge of the crag on their bellies. The legionaries were already up, the bright orange of their tunics flickering through the trees. “Do ye ken any of them?”
“If they are the same men who escorted me to Arbeia, no. Dulcitius handpicked the sentry from his regiment to ensure no one would side with me.” He pointed toward the encampment. “We’d best move. Are you ready?”
“I would nay be a Pict if I allowed them to ride past.”
“We’ve no choice but to stand and fight, I don’t want them following us to Dunpelder any more that you do.” He placed his hand on the back of her neck and kneaded. “Remember what I said. When they hit the line, fire your arrows, then push the stones off the cliff. Do not race down and fight. Leave the sword work to me.” Before she could object, he smothered her mouth with a deep, searching kiss—a kiss so heated, it left no question that he claimed her as his own.
Elspeth did not intend to lose the love of her life this day. She clung to him all too aware this could be their final moments together. “Can you not remain up here with me?”
He cupped her cheek, his eyes hardened as if he’d already donned the cloak of a feared centurion. “You know our chances of success are greater if I face them.”
She pursed her lips and gave him a nod.
“Have your arrows ready.” He stooped and reached for the Roman short sword. “It will be over before the sun reaches midday.”
She glanced at the larger Pict sword he’d left behind. It was far heavier than a Roman sword. Titus was right to opt for one he could expertly wield.
After he climbed down the hill, Elspeth crouched at her post. She waited.
And waited.
The blasted soldiers took their time getting underway. She imagined the Romans polishing every link in their chainmail. Elspeth wanted this dirty business over with. She tapped one of the boulders with her toe to ensure it was ready to push.
Hooves approached in the cadence of a fast trot. She peered over the cliff. Her heart thudded against her chest as she readied her bow.
When they rounded the first bend, the line caught the leader in the throat and jerked him backward. He landed on his head. On the narrow path, the horse behind trampled him.
Every muscle in Elspeth’s body tensed. One down.
The men below drew their swords, their horses sidestepping with the smell of danger. Elspeth fired one, two, three arrows. Four down.
The remaining legionaries galloped toward the shelter of the cliff’s wall as Titus predicted. She dashed to the stones and shoved each one over the cliff’s edge in rapid succession. When all ten had been dispatched, she craned her neck over the ledge. One soldier had lost control of his horse and was barreling south. Another lay bludgeoned beneath the crag. Five down, one fled. Four to go.
Elspeth darted to her kit and slid the Pictish sword from the leather scabbard. She hesitated for a heartbeat. Iron clashed. In no way would she cower and hide on the hill w
hile Titus faced four highly trained legionaries. Rocks broke away beneath her feet as she barreled down the hill.
Around the bend, Titus grunted with the scrape of iron on iron.
When her feet hit level ground, Elspeth ran.
With his back against the cliff’s wall, he’d already taken one and wielded two short swords against the other three. Elspeth circled around behind the soldiers as they closed in on Titus. Slithering through the trees, she crept behind the center man. Her palms perspired around the hilt. Sucking in a deep breath, she spun. The momentum of the heavy blade sliced through the air with a hiss.
As she eyed the man’s exposed neck, a screeching roar ripped from her throat. The blade reverberated with the impact and slashed through the legionary’s neck. The soldier dropped.
Titus ran his blade through to the right and lunged to the left. The last soldier backed and looked toward Elspeth. Screaming, she ran toward him brandishing her bloodied sword over her head.
The legionary turned tail and sprinted for his horse, leaping onto his mount. He dug in his heels and raced away, heading south. The bastard did not look back.
Titus reached out his hand and pulled Elspeth into his chest. “Thank God you are all right.”
She nuzzled against him, his chest heaving. Her eyes drifted downward and caught sight of blood seeping through his shirt. “Ye’re hurt.”
“No. My wound opened up a bit. That is all.” He firmly placed both hands on her cheeks. “I told you not to fight.”
She bit her lip. “Och, I could not stand by and watch…”
“No, Elspeth. The next time we battle, you must not jump into the midst of a swordfight. You were lucky this time.”
“Aye, but ye need to teach me to defend meself with a sword.”
His eyes narrowed. “I will, but for self-defense only. But you must listen to me. I cannot protect a woman who flies off and disobeys my orders.”
She nodded with a coy grin. “Aye, sir. Will that be all, sir?”
He mussed her hair. “Ah, Sprite, what am I to do with you?”
“Love me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The aftermath of the battle cooling in his blood, Titus stared at Elspeth. All he could think of during his time in the gaol was holding her in his arms once again. And then when they’d reached the pier at Arbeia, his hopes had shattered—until the love of his life had fired her first arrow.
He brushed her cheek with his finger. “I shall love you until I take my last breath.”
She wrapped her palms around his hand, shuttered her indigo eyes and kissed him. “I could have killed every one of those Romans for attacking ye.”
He tugged her into his arms and pressed his lips against her forehead. “Ah, but you forget I’ve been trained for battle my entire life. Besides, I’m the one who protects you, not the other way around.”
She sighed. “I ken.”
“How far are we from our Pictish pool? The one where we first made love?”
She raised her chin and met his gaze, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks. “A half-day’s ride, mayhap less. ’Tis practically on the way, and we’ll need to stop for the night before we reach Dunpelder—no matter how fast we ride.”
“I want to go there again.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Celebrate our marriage.”
“I like your way of thinking, though we will not be able to tarry long. Do you think we are out of danger?”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have suggested it. It will take those men two days to reach Vindolanda—even if they ride hard. And Dulcitius will not show leniency toward their failure.”
“Do you think he’ll attack us?”
“Most likely he will—but not in the next sennight.” Titus dipped his chin and lightly kissed her lips. He tugged her hand. “Come. Help me gather the horses.”
“Ye want to take a dip with the beasties?”
He chuckled. “You never fail to make me laugh.” He pulled her toward a bay gelding. “Riding to Dunpelder with a few warhorses in tow will give me a modicum of bargaining power.”
They made quick work of gathering the fallen legionaries’ horses. Once Elspeth had reclaimed her arrows, they set out. The midsummer’s sun radiated with warmth. It was the nicest day since Titus had arrived in Britannia. After their battle with the Romans, a dip in a chilly Pictish pool wasn’t the only thing he needed.
****
During their journey, Titus had time to think. Though he’d never met the legionaries he had fought this day, their deaths still weighed on his conscience. The men were trained soldiers taught not to ask questions but to carry out the edicts of Rome regardless of their personal beliefs—just like he had once been.
But he knew it couldn’t have been avoided. Not only had his life been in danger, his first duty now was to protect Elspeth, the child she was carrying, and her people. Blast it, the Picts had lost one of their own coming to his aid. He owed them his life.
Riding Tessie in the lead, Elspeth turned to him and smiled. “We’ve arrived.”
With a blink, Titus snapped to the present. He wanted this moment to be perfect.
The leaves around the pool had darkened with a deeper shade of green, and the woodsy smell of the forest cast a sultry blanket over them. Above, birds sang as if welcoming them back to their sheltered oasis.
Once they’d hobbled the horses, he led her to the pool’s edge. With no breeze, the calm water looked smooth like glass. He knelt down and swirled his hand, sending ripples to the center of the pond. “’Tis warmer now—so much different than before.”
She slipped off her shoes and waded in to her knees. “Aye, these are the most glorious months in the year.” She looked at him and her eyes turned smoky—alluring—a look that could bring him undone without so much as a touch. Elspeth didn’t utter a word while she pulled the tunic over her head and cast it to the shore. “Now you.”
Titus needed no coaxing. He was her soldier to command. Within the blink of an eye, he stripped naked and waded beside her. He reached out his hand, but Elspeth twirled away and giggled. “What will we name the bairn?”
As she spun in circles, his gaze slid to her abdomen, still flat and lean. When she stopped, he stepped behind her and slid his hands around her shapely hips. He stood so close, her heat radiated from her back. “That is something we must think about.” A tickle of regret gripped his gut—not for what he’d done, but for all the years he’d spent supporting Rome and everything the country stood for—the tyranny he’d blindly accepted. “I’m an exiled man, never to return to my lands.”
She smoothed her palms over his hands and leaned against his chest. “I will petition for you to become a Pict.”
“A Pict?” He grinned. Everything he’d seen of the Picts mirrored his own sense of duty and honor. “Is that possible?”
“It will not be easy. Even King Taran fears a former soldier of Rome cannot pass the Elders’ test. But we must try.”
“You have my word that I will pledge my fealty to your king.”
“’Tis settled then.” She sighed. “I want our child to have a Pictish name.” Elspeth frowned. “I am certainly not fond of any of yer Roman names.”
He nuzzled into her auburn locks, alive with the sun’s reflection. “Not even a name as great as Constantine?” God, she smelled of sweet honeyed mead. How could she think of names?
“I suppose that isn’t so bad,” she said as if she might consider it.
His manhood pressed between her buttocks and he lengthened. “What if you birth a girl?”
She arched her back and increased the pressure. “A lassie with red tresses like her ma?”
“Yes,” he hoarsely whispered in her ear.
“I’ve always liked the name Akira.”
The name slid off her tongue with a heavenly lilt and in that moment, Titus knew the babe in her belly would be Akira. “She’ll be as fierce and tenacious as her mother.”
“A true Pictish
princess.”
Titus grasped Elspeth’s shoulders and turned her to face him. He scooped handfuls of water and watched them run over her breasts. Her nipples hardened to taut pearls and gooseflesh sprung across her skin. The sunlight made the water sparkle on her skin—perhaps they should wade in deeper for their bath.
She shivered. “Are ye planning to ravish me?”
He grinned. “How did you know?”
She glanced down at his swollen member. “By the way ye’re standing at attention.”
The bath could wait. He cupped her buttocks with his palms and rubbed himself against her. Heaven help him, he was on the verge of coming undone. “Do you want me?”
The light twinkled in her eyes. “Aye.”
Bracing his feet, he lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me.”
Her slender thighs encased him as she covered his mouth with her dainty lips. She tasted like fresh dew on a spring morn. His cock was so hard, all he needed do was slide her womanhood atop it and she’d send him over the edge. “Are you ready?”
“Mm hmm.” She circled her hips and took him inside. “I think I like doing it this way the best.”
Titus groaned while she moved down his entire length. “Me as well.” His voice sounded ragged, filled with want.
“Am I too heavy?”
“You’re but a feather compared to my full kit.”
She swirled her hips and sighed.
Titus claimed her mouth and used his thighs to help her move up and down, the friction making his need spike quickly. He clenched his muscles and groaned. “The way your hips are moving, I’ll not last long.”
She let out a gusty breath, her eyes dark. With sharp little gasps, she milked him faster.
“Oh, Elspeth!”
Riding him, she threw her head back and cried with panting mewls. As she quivered with pleasure, Titus thrust, erupting over the final edge of release. His thighs shuddered with exhilarating potency. “My God, woman. You’ll be the death of me.”