by K. E. Saxon
For a long moment, she looked into his eyes. “I want to make love to you, Bao.”
His heart tripped. “Aye. But we cannot yet, can we?”
She shook her head. “Not for a few more days.”
He trailed his eyes down her torso and gazed at the golden hair covering her mons. “Open your legs,” he demanded darkly.
“We can’t...you know,” she reminded him again, but she followed his command.
Bao grinned. “Aye. But we can do this....” He stroked her between her thighs. “And this....” he blazed a trail with his tongue down between her breasts, over her quivering abdomen, to the apex of her womanhood and laved it once, twice, three times in quick succession with his tongue.
Jesslyn moaned in ecstasy, her abdomen tightening, quivering in anticipation.
Bao lifted his head and continued his question, saying, “Right?”
Her nod was exuberant.
“Good.” And then he proceeded to do just as he’d promised. After her first climax, he moved back up her body, needing to love all of her. He kissed her lips and delved deep inside her mouth with his tongue, allowed his hands to stray over the recovered curve of her waist, up to the ripe, rose-tipped mounds of her breasts. She squirmed beneath him and he captured one of those peaks between his lips and suckled gently as he caressed her slick, swollen labia with his fingertips. He wanted desperately to push a finger in, but fought the urge, instead using that finger to taunt another orgasm from her. It wasn’t long before she peaked, and at it’s pinnacle, she reached down and stroked his manhood in the same rhythm with which he plied her.
Bao jerked, ready to pull away, but then forced himself to allow the touch. He had to get over this aversion. He just had to. Closing his eyes, he concentrated only on the moist, hot feel of her, on the fact that ‘twas her hand on him and in the next second, his head flew back and a moan flew from his dry throat. His hips jerked involuntarily in time with her hand. “God that feels so good.” Without realizing he did it, his fingers quickened their motion and as she crested a third time, she tightened her fist around him and squeezed hard.
He gasped. “You make my head swim.”
Slowly, she settled back onto the mattress and opened her eyes. Her gaze settled on him as she caught her breath. “My thanks for letting me touch you.”
He let out a strained chuckle. “’Tis my pleasure, I assure you.”
She surprised him when she raised up and gently pressed Bao to his back, careful of his injuries. “I think I can do this right, if you’ll let me.”
His heart started pounding, and not from desire. “What are you about, love?”
She shook her head and then, before he could stop her, she took him into her mouth. Using her hands as well, she employed the ancient rhythm that would bring his seed up. Bao gritted back the immediate shadow of revulsion that threatened and forced his eyes, his mind, only on her and how much he loved her. He fisted his hands in her hair and watched her lips take him, felt her tongue against the underside of his erection. In no time, there was only pleasure as he bucked and moaned, tossing his head from side to side as his wife teased him and stroked him, sucked him and pleasured him.
His orgasm was a raging fire in his veins. A bellow of delight burst from his throat as his seed spewed from his sex into the loving cavern of her warm mouth. He collapsed back and peeked at her through one eye. She seemed to be savoring the victory, for her smile was smug as she rose from her position on the bed and washed her face at the washstand.
“You are much too good at that for my own good, my love.”
She swung her head around and gave him a wide-eyed look. “Truly?”
“How can you even question such after the force of the eruption I just had?”
She shrugged and turned back to her ablutions. “Graeme said I didn’t do it right, that—”
“Graeme! ‘Tis always Graeme! Clearly he was an idiot.” He sat up and rested his arms on his bent knees. “I am truly sorry if I offend, but I am tired unto death of being compared to a dead man.”
She turned and faced him. “You are right. I shan’t do so again. You’ve proved yourself more my mate than Graeme ever was.”
He grinned. “’Tis glad I am to finally hear you admit it.”
Her eyes softened and her lips turned up, but she said naught further. With a shrug, she turned back around and dropped a cloth into the basin of water.
He lay back and watched her as she warmed the dampened cloth in her hand before turning and walking back toward the bed. Lifting the cloth to his belly and groin, she cleansed him of the remnants of their loving. The grace of her movements, the unconscious femininity of her, fascinated him. Her golden hair lay in soft strands over her breasts, tickling and snagging on the rosy peaks. He lifted his hands and rested them on her upper arms, drawing her down on top of him. Then he rolled her onto her back and gently moved the hair away from her right breast. “You are so very lovely. Perfect, in fact.” He stroked his tongue around the circumference of the peak a few times.
Her voice was gentle when she said, “So are you.”
He lifted his head and looked at her, shocked to hear her say such. “Nay, not by miles. I’ve seen too much, done too much.” He moved a lock of her hair off of her cheek with his finger, enjoying the silky feel of her cheek as he did so. “But you make me feel that I could be a better man. Someday.”
“Come here. I want to hug you.”
For some reason, that made his heart feel like a starburst exploding in his chest. He grinned and did as she requested.
It was long minutes before they rose from their bed and dressed. Bao, who was feeling much recovered, even after the morning’s pleasurable exertions, would not even consider staying in his sick bed until Daniel looked at his wounds again. Jesslyn had reminded him of Branwenn’s surrender, that there was a truce made, that his sister would be leaving for Cambria now that he was well enough for her to say her farewells to him, so he insisted upon meeting with the prince and then seeing his sister.
* * *
“Bao! I’ve been so worried!” Branwenn said as she pressed her cheek even further into her brother’s chest. It was late, well past sunset, and they were standing in the center of the solar. They’d been given this time alone by the others to say their farewells in private, for she would leave at first light on the morrow. Never, she supposed, to cross the threshold of this keep again. She held Bao with all her might and he, in turn, was almost squeezing the breath from her lungs, but she cared not. She stood in a state of melancholy bliss, memorizing the wonderful, comfortable feeling she had when he held her thus, knowing this would be the last time she’d ever be held by her brother, her protector, her hero, again.
“I am well, little one, do not fret,” Bao said as he lifted his hand to the back of her head and stroked her hair.
“But what if you hadn’t recovered? I would never have forgiven myself for being the cause of your death!”
“Branwenn,” Bao chided, “you must not think of what might have been—you must only think of what is, else you’ll surely make yourself daft.”
Branwenn nodded her head and squeezed him a bit tighter.
He tightened his hold as well and dropped his cheek to the top of her head. “I am quite well now, I assure you.”
Branwenn swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded again, but said naught further.
“Do you desire that I travel to Cambria with you and Prince Llywelyn?” Bao asked softly. “I could stay until you are well wed.”
Branwenn shook her head. “Nay. You must stay here with your family,” she said thickly. Her throat was clogged with unshed tears, tears she was trying valiantly not to release in Bao’s presence. It would only make this parting more difficult, and it was time for her to meet her destiny with the courage of a woman grown, not the fear of a wee lass.
“Do you like your cousin, the prince?”
Branwenn sighed, shrugging. She nodded. “Aye, well enou
gh, I suppose. He’s younger, and more handsome, than I’d expected. And kinder, as well.”
“Aye, he seems to hold affection for you, which eases my mind. He will take good care of you while you are under his protection. And Reys cares for you as well. He’s sworn on his life to watch over you in my stead.”
“Aye,” Branwenn agreed, “and this man for whom I am intended is a bold warrior—unbeaten at the tournaments, at least until recently, I’ve been told. He will be a good protector, I’m sure,” she said, managing to keep most of the fear from her voice.
“It tortures me that a man I’ve never met will soon have control over your life. I wish you hadn’t given yourself over to the prince,” Bao chastened. “Daniel and I had sent for our allies and we would have won the day. You would not have had to go so far away from us then.”
Branwenn pulled back a bit and gazed up into her brother’s worried countenance. “But how could I have had even a small kernel of happiness for the rest of my life if you or Daniel had been killed in the process? In the end, ‘twas much more important to me that I leave with you well and happy than that I stay with one of you cold in your grave because of me.”
“But our happiness will be tempered by sadness at your parting, for I know not if we will ever see each other again.”
“Mayhap my new husband will be kind and allow us to visit in a few years,” Branwenn said.
Bao nodded, but his eyes held little conviction. “Aye, mayhap he will.”
“What think you of your son?” Branwenn asked, needing to change the subject. Her heart was overflowing with sadness and she couldn’t bear another moment of the pain—‘twas time to think on things more joyous.
Bao grinned. “He’s almost as handsome as his father.”
“Almost! He’s at least twice your looks, brother mine!” Branwenn teased, but her face crumpled and her eyes filled with tears before she could stem their flow.
“Branwenn!” Bao said. He rocked her in his arms, rubbing her quaking shoulders while she cried out her sorrow. “He’s beautiful!” she wailed. “All your bairns will be lovely!”
He cleared his throat and she heard him swallow before saying, “And so, my comely sister, will be all of yours.”
* * *
Bao had remained with Branwenn until it was time for her to depart, reminiscing on their lives together. By the time Branwenn left the solar just before dawn, Bao had felt slightly more ready to give her over to her brother-germain’s keeping. And now that he’d seen her off, said his final fairwell, even lied to her that he’d seen his new bairn to ease her heartache, ‘twas time to meet his son. At last.
As he came down the hall toward the stair, he was intercepted by Maryn.
“Good morn to you Bao. I thought you would surely be with Alleck and Giric hunting in the wood.”
Alarm shot through him. “Giric?” Without realizing it, he gripped her arm. “Mean you Giric MacBean?”
“Bao! You’re looking wild-eyed. Calm yourself. And, aye, ‘tis Giric MacBean—our ally we summoned during the siege—with whom the lad’s gone hunting.” She lifted her hand to his brow. “Are you still fever—Where are you going?”
Bao didn’t answer, didn’t halt, didn’t turn, he plowed forward and leapt down the stairs three at a time.
“What is wrong?” Maryn called down to him. He heard the pad of her footsteps behind him. “Stay here!” he shouted back.
* * *
“He was too fast for me to catch up to, Jesslyn,” Maryn said between gulps of air. “Something is amiss. Something dire. Oh, God. My heart won’t stop pounding.”
“I’m going after him. If there’s danger to my son, I won’t stand here doing naught.”
“I’m coming with you. We must have someone find Daniel and tell him to follow as well.”
“Aye—Did Bao have his sword?”
“Nay—only his dirk.”
“We must take him is sword, then.”
* * *
Bao followed the trail Giric and Alleck left—‘twas easy enough, as Giric clearly believed there would be no suspicion of his purpose from any quarter. Did he even know Bao was here at the Maclean holding? Even if he did, he no doubt knew of his injury and the fevered stupor he’d been battling, thought himself safe to do as he would with the lad.
He’d torn open his groin injury when he’d flown down the stairs earlier and the searing pain helped to keep his thoughts focused and the dizziness that threatened a swoon at bay.
* * *
“There he is!” Maryn pointed to the copse of trees up ahead. “I can see movement just there, where the sun lights the break in the trees.”
“Aye…yes! Yes, ‘tis him!” Jesslyn kicked her mount into a gallop and her friend did the same.
* * *
Bao dismounted and tied his horse’s reins to a tree outside the same cave where he’d tricked Jesslyn into coupling with him long sennights past. His heartbeat’s rapid meter increased as a near-dibilitating dread took hold of him. Weak-kneed and lungs blowing, he moved with silent tread to the mouth of the cave. A drop of salty sweat pierced his eye and he pressed his palm to it, then swept an arm over his face to mop the moisture.
The acrid smell of a peatfire hung heavy in the air as he took his first step through the mouth of the cave and saw the reflection of the blaze’s licking flames bathing the cavern wall in a sheen of rust and ochre. They were further into the recesses than Jesslyn and he had gone, and that increased his dread further. The cave held it’s cold and when it sliced through his sweat-soaked shirt, it sent a shiver through Bao. Just then, an arced form severed the wall’s glow with a dark eclipse and, as if reliving his own nightmare, he heard Giric say, “See how much better we can judge your strength now that you are bare?”
Bao bolted forward.
“Just look at how the sinews in Gowan’s arms and chest flex as he hefts the sword. A warrior must—”
“Get your filthy hands off my son!”
“Papa!”
Bao wrenched Giric’s arms behind his back and slammed him against the wall. The man’s cheek made a satisfying thwak as it met the stone.
“Ahhh!” Giric struggled to free himself, nearly losing his footing on the slick moss that populated the edges of the floor nearest the walls of the cave, but Bao yanked him back up, nearly jerking the man’s arm from its socket. Giric let out another cry of pain then said in a strangled tone, “I was only showing the lad how to heft a sword!”
Bao slammed him into the wall again and turned his head to look at the other lad—older than Alleck by a few years, but also stripped down to his braes.
“You are Gowan?”
The lad’s eyes were wide with fear. His lip trembled. “Aye.”
“How do you know this man?”
“Papa, why are you vexed? Did I do something wrong?”
Bao turned his gaze on Alleck and did his best to temper his tone when he said, “Nay, lad. Will you do me a favor?” When Alleck nodded, he continued, “Take your clothes and go out to where I’ve tethered my horse. I’m worried that the beast is getting lonely out there all by itself.” He knew Alleck loved horses and was relieved when the lad’s eyes sparked with joy and he scurried to do Bao’s bidding.
Bao turned his gaze back on Gowan and the lad finally answered his question. “I-I am his squire.”
Bao growled through gritted teeth. “Get thee from here as well. Now.”
As the lad rushed to obey, Giric tried to struggle free again and Bao leaned into him. The air went out of the man’s lungs with a whoosh and only when his face turned a deep purple-red did Bao lessen the hold again and allow him to breathe. “You are vile.”
The man snorted just as Jesslyn skidded to a halt three feet from where they stood. “Get out of here,” Bao told her.
“I brought your sword.”
“Leave it and go.”
“Is this one of the men who—who touched you when you were a lad?”
“Aye.”
“Aye, Bao. Listen to the lady, for she speaks the truth.”
Bao rammed his knee into Giric’s ass, just where he knew it would cause the most pain. Giric grunted. “Did you touch my son?”
“Oh, God, Bao—did he? Did you?” In the next instant, Jesslyn was there beside them.
“Nay. ‘Twas only a lesson in sword—ah!—play.”
“Bao, his eyes are growing glassy. Let him go.” Jesslyn’s hands dragged at Bao’s arms. It surprised him how her touch sent a wave of calm through him, enough so that he was able to release his quarry and step back.
Giric fell to his knees, then rolled onto his side, struggling for air, and Bao let him.
“How did you know?” Bao asked her. “Maryn?”
“Aye.”
“You shouldn’t have followed me. This is no right business for a gentle lady.”
“My son—and you—are, and will always be, my business.”
Giric raised up into a sitting position. “This act you put on for your lady is sweet, actually, but we both know how much pleasure you received with me. A hard cock and moans of pleasure are not signs of disgust. Are they, Bao?”
* * *
Jesslyn’s eyes flew to her husband’s face. His cheeks were ruddy and his eyes—his eyes held shame. Shame and revulsion. For himself, or for Giric? No doubt, both. Hot anger ripped through her chest and she turned her sights on Bao’s molester. “He was a bairn. He had no choice but to submit to you—you—you defiler of innocents!”
The man had the gall to smirk at her! “Aye, but did he have to enjoy it so much?”
Would a gentle lady—a mother—be subjected to as high a penalty for murder as a knight? Her fists clenched at her side and she took a step toward him, but Bao swung his arm out in front of her, successfully halting her stride. “Nay,” he said.
She spit on Giric instead. “His body responded in spite of his will, but his mind is forever tormented by it!” She swung her gaze to Bao. “I’ve changed my mind, he must die.” She slid his dirk from the sheath before her husband could stop her and lifted it in preparation for the kill.