Connie Mason

by The Black Knight

  She nodded and began pulling wooden pins out of her hair. When her braids hung down her back, Drake began to unravel them, spreading the silken strands out with his fingers until they fell in shimmering chestnut waves down her back.

  Drake drew her hair aside and kissed her nape. “I love your hair,” he murmured huskily. “When you were a child I thought it hideous. I must have been blind.”

  Raven recalled how Drake had teased her about the color of her hair, calling her Carrot Top and other unseemly names. But she had not cared, for she had loved Drake then, with the kind of love only a child was capable of giving.

  “Take off your clothes. His voice sounded raw, urgent. “I want you, sweet Raven. Now. It will be different this time. There will be no pain, and I will take time to please you.”

  Raven swallowed a smile. Did he not know he had pleased her the first time despite the initial pain? Slowly, watching his expression change from appreciation to fierce need, she began to undress. When she moved too slowly to suit him, he grasped the neckline of her chemise.

  “Nay. Patience, my lord. I cannot afford to lose a piece of clothing when I have so few.”

  “I will replace it with a dozen others.” Then he tore it in half, tossing the pieces aside with a growl of impatience.

  Raven quailed beneath his fierce perusal. She might have turned and run had he not gripped her arms and pulled her roughly against him. Breast to breast, hip to hip, his heat scorched her and left her wanting. When she felt his staff throbbing against her, she cried out her own need.

  “I cannot wait!” Shocked by her outburst, she turned bright red.

  “Ah, sweet Raven, how your impatience pleases me. We will go slowly, my lady. I want to learn all your secrets.” Then he bore her backward onto the bed.

  Raven’s mind ceased functioning. His gaze was pure fire, flaying her everywhere it touched. He cupped her breast. His mouth found her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, hard, wringing a cry from her. Her hands were on his shoulders, his back, his thighs. His hair-roughened skin affected her strongly, like an aphrodisiac. His touch, his taste, his scent, all combined to bring her the kind of greedy pleasure she had no right to claim. Not with this man, who was neither her betrothed nor her husband.

  She trembled violently beneath the kisses raining down on her body. His mouth was hot, his tongue hard, firm, every flick sending unspeakable delight surging through her. She was losing control. She felt him sliding lower on her body and feared he would not stop until he reached . . .

  “Drake!”

  He knelt between her outstretched thighs and looked up at her when she screamed his name. His eyes flashed silver and he gave her a dazzling smile. Then he bent his head and stared at her intimate flesh as if she were a feast he could not wait to devour. She nearly lost control as his talented fingertips stroked up her inner thighs to the lips of her sex, spreading them for his pleasure.

  Then he kissed her there.

  Raven could not breathe, could not think. “Please.” She did not know such things were permissible, much less wonderfully arousing.

  He hesitated, looking up at her. “Shall I continue?”

  “Nay . . . aye . . . I know not! ’Tis sinful.”

  “Aye,” Drake agreed. “Deliciously sinful. Tell me, Raven, do you want me to stop?”

  She could feel his hot breath against the tender folds of her womanhood and feared she would die if he stopped now. “Nay, do not stop. Take this to the end.”

  He lowered his head and slid his tongue over her wet, swollen flesh. She tried to embrace him and realized their fingers were entwined and her hands imprisoned at her sides. His tongue flicked over a place so sensitive it wrung a cry from her. Stunned, she arched violently upward. He freed her hands and they immediately fell to his shoulders, her nails biting into his flesh.

  A joyous emotion bubbled up inside her. It was strong, so powerful it was like a volcano that soon must erupt. And then it did.

  Nine

  A knight fights with courage.

  Drake rose up on his elbows and stared at Raven. Her face was flushed, her breath coming fast and harsh as she slowly descended from passion’s towering heights. He’d never imagined he could experience pleasure from giving to another while denying himself, but Raven had just proved otherwise. He was still rigid and swollen, still wanting, but he felt her satisfaction as keenly as she did.

  She opened her eyes; he smiled at her. She returned his smile, reaching up to caress his cheek. Drake grasped her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing each finger.

  “Is it permissible to enjoy what you just did to me?” she asked shyly.

  Her naïveté was refreshing. “Anything we do in bed is permissible. As long as we both enjoy it.”

  She glanced down at his swollen staff and her eyes widened. “There was no pleasure in it for you.”

  “You are wrong, my love. I absorbed your pleasure and savored it as my own.”

  She grasped his hips and urged him down upon her. “Come inside me, Drake. Let me absorb your pleasure.”

  God’s blood! He had never known such a woman existed. He spread her thighs and stared raptly at the swollen lips of her sex. He moaned and slid himself over her slick folds several times, until she shuddered and moved her hips restlessly beneath him. His eyes darkened with lust as he recalled how tightly she had cradled him the first time he had loved her. Then slowly, holding himself in rigid control, he pushed himself inside her.

  Eyes closed, jaw set, he went deeper. Nothing had ever felt so right, so perfect. She was tight, so tight . . . so hot. The walls of her sex clasped him lovingly, as if God had fashioned her exclusively for him. He moved slowly so as not to hurt her, and was surprised when she grasped his buttocks, urging him deeper, harder. Her enthusiastic response, coming close on the heels of her previous climax, so shocked him that he went utterly still.

  Her fingers dug into his flesh. “Nay! Do not stop!”

  “Oh, sweet lady, never fear. I could not stop were the earth to open up and swallow me.”

  He flexed his hips and drove deeply, wetly into her. Wanting, needing more, he lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. She thrashed beneath him, moaning his name. He felt her shudder, felt her sheath contract around him, felt tiny explosions erupting inside her. Then he lost the ability to think as he rocked forcefully against her, driving them both to completion. He threw back his head, opened his mouth, and roared, spilling his seed as a brilliant shower of fire and sparks ripped through him. His heart was pounding so loudly he did not hear Raven shout his name, or feel her nails digging into his shoulders.

  Drake did not want to move. He wanted to stay inside her body until he grew hard enough to take her again. He rested his head against her breasts, her ragged breathing mingling with his. When he found the strength to move, he pulled out and flopped down beside her. Though his eyes were closed he felt her gaze upon him. He raised himself up on his elbows and kissed the tip of her nose.

  “I want to love you again. And yet again. The rest of the day and all through the night.”

  Raven’s mouth dropped open. “Is that possible?”

  His eyes gleamed with promise. “Very possible.” He grasped her hand and brought it to his loins, making her aware that his passion had been temporarily slaked, not satisfied. Her fingers closed around his erection, as if to test his readiness for herself.

  “Can it not wait? I really do want to talk to you.”

  He sat up, drawing up one knee and resting his arms upon it. “Is this important?”

  “I suppose I must consider myself your leman now.”

  Drake wondered where in God’s name the conversation was going. He was not altogether certain he was going to like where it was headed. “Is that such a bad thing? We just proved we are compatible. God’s blood, Raven, do you know how very much you please me?”

  “You please me, too, Drake, but that will matter little to Waldo.”

  Drake’s face hardene
d. “Must we talk about my brother?”

  “He is my husband. He will come for me, you know. The castle is ill prepared for a siege, should it come to that.” She took a gulp of air. “Mayhap I should return to Waldo and demand an annulment.”

  Drake grasped her shoulders, giving her a none-too-gentle shake. He could not believe what he was hearing. “Are you mad? He will kill you, and well you know it.”

  “He will kill you if he catches you. I dragged you into my affairs against your will. I do not want your death on my conscience.”

  “You did not drag me into this, Raven: I entered of my own free will. This is my penance for ruining you on your wedding night.”

  “ ’Tis not the wedding night I would have chosen, but neither was bedding Waldo. Mayhap you did me a favor. You provided me with a way to escape a man I detest. I am not Waldo’s wife,” she said fiercely. “Our marriage was never consummated, and I will kill myself before I let him touch me.”

  Drake grasped her shoulders, dragging her against him. “I will not let him have you.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “Why do you say that, Drake? You do not like me. When I begged for your help at Chirk, you denied me. I am naught but a penance you have imposed upon yourself.”

  He stared into her eyes; they were the color of the pastures surrounding Windhurst. “Perhaps I chose the wrong words. As for the past, it has no place now in our lives. What happened at Chirk when we were children no longer matters.”

  “It matters to me. Will you listen to me now, with an open mind? I swear upon the graves of my parents that I will speak naught but the truth.”

  “Aye, have your say,” Drake said. If it would ease her mind, he was willing to listen, though in truth his memories of that time were vague. He had harbored a grudge against Raven all these years, not even realizing it no longer mattered. Except for the fact that Daria had died before her time, he would not think of it at all.

  Raven sent him a look that spoke eloquently of her need to be exonerated in Drake’s eyes. She took a deep breath and began.

  “I loved my sister very much. At times she was fanciful and flighty, but mostly she was sweet and obedient. She may have fancied herself in love with you, but she would have never run off to elope. She wanted to be Waldo’s countess.”

  “Are you saying Daria cared naught for me?” Drake asked harshly.

  “Nay. I am merely telling you the truth. Daria did not like the careless way in which Waldo treated her, and she wanted to make him jealous so he would pay more attention to her. She was young, Drake; you cannot blame her. She was very fond of you, but she took her betrothal vows seriously.”

  “How did your father learn of our plans to elope if you did not tell him?”

  “Daria confided in me, but I did not tell Father. She assured me she knew what she was doing, that becoming a countess was all she ever wanted. Wedding a penniless lad who claimed neither title nor land was not in her plans for her future. She took advantage of your love, Drake. I learned later that she told her maid about the elopement, aware that the girl would run to Father with the tale. I did not betray you, Drake, though I knew what you planned was folly.”

  Drake mulled over Raven’s words and recognized them for the truth. Daria’s fickleness hurt but no longer wounded. He had been young, and Daria was his first love. He had aimed high and been knocked down, but life had gone on and he had prospered. There was one thing he could not forget, however: Daria’s early death.

  “Think you Waldo is responsible for Daria’s death?”

  “I am sure of it!” Raven said fiercely. “She was strong and healthy when she left Chirk as Waldo’s wife. She never complained of a stomach ailment. I do not know how or why, but I firmly believe Waldo is responsible for my sister’s death. So many deaths.” She sighed. “My parents. My betrothed. Waldo’s mother, then his father. Daria’s death followed soon afterward.”

  “How did Aric die?”

  “He went with Waldo and Duff to fight in France. When Aric was slain at Crécy, Waldo asked Duff not to betroth me to another because he wanted me for himself. Were my parents still alive, they would not have agreed. As it was, years passed before a dispensation arrived from the pope allowing the marriage.”

  “If proof exists that Waldo hastened Daria’s death, I will kill him. Daria may not have loved me as I loved her, but she did not deserve to die.”

  Her voice was pleading, disconsolate. “ ’Tis important that you believe me, Drake. I let you make love to me. I could not live with myself knowing you hold me in so little regard.”

  Absently he stroked her hair, smoothing the tangled strands away from her compelling green eyes. He searched her face and was humbled by the desperate need for understanding he saw there.

  “Aye, Raven, I believe you. I probably knew long ago that you were not capable of such deceit. Your heart was too loving. Mayhap I preferred to believe you had betrayed me and Daria rather than face the truth that Daria did not return my love and never planned to go through with the elopement. The truth would have been a bitter blow for a chivalrous lad with stars in his eyes and a heart filled with love.”

  She gave him a misty smile. “You do not know how happy that makes me.”

  Her words sent a jolt of renewed passion surging through him. He was instantly hard, desperately needy. He reached for her. His voice was husky, barely recognizable.

  “Show me how happy you are, sweet Raven. Open yourself to me and let me share your happiness.”

  “Oh, aye, Drake, aye,” she cried, flinging herself into his arms.

  “Do you remember, long ago, when you asked me to kiss you?” he whispered against her lips. “What were you? Ten? Twelve? Too young to know what you asked for.”

  “I remember very well. I loved you, Drake. I cared not about land or title. You had taken my girlish fancy and I claimed you as my own gallant knight.”

  “If I recall, I kissed your cheek.”

  She gave him a wistful smile. “It was not the kiss I wanted, but it made me very happy.”

  “I will make amends, sweet Raven. I will kiss you until you grow giddy and beg me to stop.”

  “Stop? Never! I have not changed much from that child who begged for your kiss.”

  Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue darted out to lick moisture onto them. Lust . . . pure, raging lust roared through him. He bore her backward onto the mattress and plundered her sweet mouth with his lips and tongue.

  Writhing upon the bed, lost in a haze of sensual excitement, each sought pleasure from the other’s body. Kissing and caressing wildly, they found fulfillment amid exploding stars and blinding light.

  They remained secluded in their chamber until the evening meal was served. All eyes were upon them as they entered the hall together. It was not difficult for the casual observer to imagine what had taken place in the solar during the long afternoon. Raven’s face was still flushed and her lips swollen from Drake’s kisses.

  During the repast Raven shared Drake’s trencher and cup, adding more fodder for the rumor mill. After the meal, Drake escorted Raven to her chambers while the men returned to the barracks or bedded down in the hall.

  “Tomorrow I will have the servants move my things to the solar,” he said as he closed the door firmly behind him. “We will share this room for as long as you remain at Windhurst.”

  Raven shivered, as if a sudden chill had entered the room. “How long will that be, my lord?”

  The confused look on Drake’s face did not cheer her. They both knew she could not continue to live here forever. Drake’s wife, when he decided to take one, would not want her underfoot.

  “For as long as this arrangement pleases us,” he teased. “Think you I will throw you upon Waldo’s tender mercies? Nay, Raven. Waldo is not a forgiving man. He is cruel and sly and capable of things I suspect would surprise both of us. I do not wish to discuss Waldo tonight. I will help you undress.”

  The night was a repeat of the day. Drake co
uld not seem to get enough of her, and Raven was as mad for him as he was for her. Their afternoon tryst had banished whatever shyness Raven might have felt. Now she explored his body as fully as he had explored hers earlier. She tasted the lust upon his sex and absorbed his scent into her pores. And when he stiffened and cried out that his restraint was gone and he as was about to spew forth his seed, she flung herself astride him and rode him to completion.

  The following morning Drake gathered the servants in the hall to inform them that Raven was the lady of the castle, that her orders were to be obeyed. All but a few of the younger women, who had their own agendas where Drake was concerned, smiled and bobbed their heads to Raven, satisfied that their lord had finally clarified Raven’s place in his life. Instead of having no status in the household, she was now the respected leman of the Black Knight. An enviable position, most agreed, one that demanded their esteem, until their lord brought a wife to the keep.

  Repairs to the walls and fortifications continued apace. Sir John’s return was eagerly anticipated, as were the mercenaries to reinforce Drake’s army. Drake was busy from prime till vespers, but the remaining hours belonged solely to Raven. The love she had harbored for Drake as a child was renewed and reinforced, emerging strong and steadfast. She refrained from voicing what was in her heart, however, because she was not free to ask for Drake’s love in return.

  She was still a married woman, living in sin with the man she loved.

  A sennight passed. Raven tried to ignore impending danger, living only for the nights. Blissfully entwined in Drake’s strong arms, she began to believe that no one could touch them in their safe haven. The walls around her dreamworld came tumbling down with the arrival of Drake’s spy from Chirk.

  Sir Richard rode into the cobbled courtyard on a raw day lashed by wind and rain. He was soaked to the skin and near collapse as he attempted to dismount. Fortunately Drake was standing nearby, for Richard fell from his destrier and into Drake’s arms. Two sturdy knights came forward and carried Richard into the hall, placing him in a chair by the fire. A servant handed him a cup of ale and he downed it in one thirsty gulp.