The Conquest

by Julia Templeton

  He stopped mere inches from her and, without saying a word, leaned in for a kiss. His hands were at her back, untying the lacings of her kirtle, which he made quick work of, surprising her yet again. This man was no stranger to unlacing a woman’s gown.

  The kirtle was up and off her head before she could blink, and her chemise shortly followed.

  Her stomach coiled. She stood before him naked as could be in the bright light of day. Because of her station in life, and having to be with Rhiannon nearly every minute of the day, she had become accustomed to making love quickly before returning to her charge, which meant rarely undressing, and when she did, it was normally not during the day.

  Jorden acted as if they had all the time in the world. She trembled when he took a step back, his eyes sliding down her body slowly. The side of his mouth curved, and he grabbed her, his mouth on hers, his hand at the back of her head, fisting her hair.

  Exhilaration licked her spine, and her already moist core grew wet in an instant. He rubbed his cock against her belly, his teeth biting into her bottom lip as he sucked it hard, his hand sliding down her stomach, through the hair on her mons, to her slick folds.

  He released a growl as one finger, then another slid into her moist heat, his thumb brushing over her clit, first softly, and then with more pressure.

  Aye, he had been with a woman before—and more than once.

  Planting a hand on his wide chest, she tried to steady herself on legs that had gone weak and wobbly. As the rhythm of his fingers increased, she touched his nipple, smiling as it extended. He groaned low in his throat when she replaced her fingers with her mouth, playing with the bud and feeling the hard ridge of his sex buck against her in response.

  She was lifted off the ground a second later, and laid down on soft grass. Jorden covered her with his large body, kissing her, before going up on his knees, and hooking both her legs over his shoulders. He rested the crown of his cock against her wet opening, and turned his head to kiss the inside of her knee before slipping inside her.

  His hands curled around her thighs as he slowly pumped in and out of her, his balls slapping her ass with each hard thrust. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  He said something in French she didn’t understand, but it sounded lovely, his eyes soft as he watched her, his gaze shifting to her breasts, which bounced with each hard thrust.

  Long strands of wet hair stuck to his neck and shoulders, beads of water falling onto her thighs, rolling down to mingle with the creamy honey of her sex.

  He slowed a little, positioning her so the head of his cock touched her sweet spot inside. It felt delicious, so incredible. He slid a long finger into her back passage and she released a sigh, biting the inside of her lip as her body rocked with pleasure.

  Unable to help herself, she touched her clit, drawing circles around the tiny nub, before applying more pressure.

  Jorden’s jaw clenched as he watched Elspeth play with her herself, his strokes increasing as she came closer to orgasm. He knew she was close, could feel her legs tighten against his shoulders.

  He added another finger in her ass, and she cried out as she came, her fingers pressing harder as she rode out the sensations, her strong inner muscles throbbing around his great length.

  She opened her eyes to find him watching her with an open mouthed expression that looked almost boyish. Her hand slipped from her tiny button, to fondle his balls, finding the patch of skin that made most men come immediately.

  Jorden was no exception.

  He moaned, the cords of his neck strained as he pumped into her hard. His silver eyes stayed focused on her, so intense. His fingernails dug into her thighs as he let out a growl and withdrew, his hot semen shooting onto her belly.

  * * *

  “You are being quiet again.”

  Rhiannon glanced up at Adelstan. All day she had been wondering how she would live with the fact he would be unmarried and free to do what he desired, while she would be married, her every moment accounted for by a man she did not even know and had no desire to know for that matter.

  Just like her mother.

  Perhaps they could run away.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling her into his arms, lying back on his mantle, which had been spread out, the food now forgotten.

  Tears that had burned the backs of her eyes finally escaped and slipped down her cheeks.

  He took her face in his hands, brushing at her tears with his thumbs, his eyes full of concern. “What is it?”

  “I have realized how impossible our situation is.”

  He opened his mouth as though to say something, but closed it as quickly. Sitting up, he reached for the wine, took a long drink. She watched the muscles of his throat contract, her heart racing as his gaze met hers over the bottle’s edge. Setting the bottle aside, he grabbed her and kissed her long and hard.

  She returned the kiss fervently, needing him as much as he needed her, if not more. Her fingers wove through his hair, and she tugged at it in her urgency. He smiled against her lips, apparently pleased by her response.

  He flipped, so she was now beneath him, and he drew up her skirts, his long fingers grazing the sensitive skin of her inner calf, her knee, her thighs. Disappearing beneath her skirts, his hot breath fanned against her sex a moment before his tongue licked her heated cleft.

  Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest as he licked her mercilessly, his tongue lifting the small hard bud, before his mouth closed over it and he sucked.

  She smiled at blue skies overhead, and arched her hips closer to his mouth.

  Long fingers joined the play, sliding into her hot core, and she moaned as he moved them in and out of her. He slid a finger over her back passage, and she jerked, shocked by the strange sensations.

  She thought she heard the rumblings of laughter against her sex, before he once again set to laving and sucking. Liquid fire danced in her veins and her body pulsed with the familiar stirrings, the introduction to a climax that would be exquisite. Two more strokes of his tongue and a thrust of his fingers and she came hard, her inner muscles clamping around him, coating him with her juices.

  As she recovered from the orgasm, he slid from beneath her skirts, his cock hard and long, tenting the braies he was busy untying. Pushing the breeches to his knees, he went into her arms, his body covering hers, his rock-hard cock resting against her still throbbing quim.

  “I want you, Rhiannon,” he whispered, kissing her, the scent of her on his lips and in his mouth. She knew some women might be repulsed at tasting themselves on their lover’s lips, but not Rhiannon. She wished to experience everything with this man.

  “I want you, too.”

  He thrust hard, burying his impressive length inside her.

  The world around them could have caught fire and she would not have known, too intent on the man staring at her, moving above her, filling her completely with his thick cock, his thrusts steady and long.

  She could see the pulse racing in his neck, the way the tendons flexed. Never would she forget this moment, staring into his eyes as he made love to her. As the stirrings of yet another climax began, she brought her legs up, her feet locking behind his back, taking him deeper within her body.

  “Rhiannon,” he said, his strokes becoming faster.

  He grabbed her ass with both hands and drove into her in shallow strokes.

  As she cried out his name, he pumped a few more times and withdrew, spilling his seed onto the ground beneath her with a curse.

  What would it feel like to have him come inside her—to enjoy the climax together, just once?

  He stood and helped her up, kissing her thoroughly before looking anxiously around. Every moment had to be guarded and she hated it. He covered his spent seed with dirt and leaves, and pulled up his braies.

  “You’ve dirt on your back,” he said, brushing at her bottom, the sensation sending pleasure through her. If only she could stay here all day, experiencin
g heaven in his arms.

  “Jorden!” Elspeth yelled loudly in the distance, and Rhiannon knew it was her maid’s way of giving her fair warning. Thankful, she brushed her skirts out, picked up Adelstan’s mantle, and tossed it to him as she made busy putting the few uneaten items into the basket.

  Elspeth raced into the clearing first, looking at Rhiannon and Adelstan, almost doing a check before turning to Jorden, who appeared to have gone swimming, his dark hair wet and curling at his shoulders. “You run fast for a woman,” he said, his French accent rife with sexual tension.

  “Of course I do when a predator is after me,” she said saucily.

  “Who do you call a predator, woman?”

  “Are you two quite finished?” Adelstan asked with a smile, while fastening the mantle over his broad shoulders.

  Jorden’s silver eyes burned into Elspeth. “For now.”

  Elspeth’s eyes widened and she laughed as she took the basket from Rhiannon.

  “I can take it.”

  “Nay, it is heavy,” Elspeth insisted, and Rhiannon let the basket slip from her fingers as the servant took it.

  Jorden approached Elspeth and she rushed away, with him racing after her.

  Adelstan smiled as he watched the two, before looking at Rhiannon. She returned his smile and he kissed her, a quick peck on the lips. “You’re so beautiful, Rhiannon. I’ll never forget these days for the rest of my life.”

  “Nor will I.”

  Jorden had Elspeth’s back flush against a tree, the basket now forgotten at their feet.

  The man towered over her, bending his head for a kiss. Elspeth trembled and Rhiannon wondered if it came from fear or desire.

  As the maid’s hands laced around the knight’s shoulders, Rhiannon had her answer. There was nothing gentle about the kiss the two shared, and she had to wonder what had transpired at the pond to make his need so great.

  “Come, let us leave them,” Adelstan said, taking her hand within his own.

  “I want to see ye tonight,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder.

  “It is too risky, especially if we have been out all day together.”

  “I could sneak to your room.”

  He stopped in midstride, pulled her behind a giant oak. “I want nothing more than to spend the entire night in your arms and wake there, and yet to do so could risk both our lives.”

  Disappointed, she looked down at the ground between them.

  He lifted her chin with gentle fingers. “Rhiannon, if I could change this, I would. Do you believe that?”

  Unable to speak for fear her voice would break, she nodded.

  Chapter 15

  Two nights later Rhiannon was desperate to be alone with Adelstan again. He’d been out on a hunt with her father and his men, and they had all just returned to the hall to a great feast and dancing.

  All day Rhiannon had been preparing for this evening, and her heart raced as she stepped into the bailey, the music from the great hall filling the night air, sending a rush of excitement through her entire body.

  She brushed out the skirts of her new kirtle, a lovely blue material that hugged her slender frame. The silver girdle complimented the detailed embroidery at the neck and cuffs, and she’d driven Elspeth half crazy…having her style her hair over and over again.

  Taking a calming breath, she entered the hall, her gaze going to the high dais and the tall blond sitting to her father’s right. To her chagrin, Machara, the bold servant, was lingering nearby, washbowl at the ready.

  Damn that woman!

  Rhiannon stopped for a moment to talk with several friends, trying with difficulty not to look at Adelstan.

  But she could feel his green gaze burning into her.

  If only she could read his thoughts. Did he yearn for her in the same way she yearned for him? Even now she felt the familiar stirring in her breasts and between her thighs. Each night he filled her dreams, and each day she could think of nothing but seeing him again.

  And now since days had passed without touching him, she ached to make love to him again.

  A page helped her up the steps to the dais, and both her father and Adelstan stood.

  “There you are, my dear,” her father said with a welcome smile. “How lovely ye look this evening. Is that a new gown?”

  “Thank ye, Father. Yes, it is a new gown.”

  His gaze fell on her hair, and he quirked his lips but said nothing.

  “How was your hunt?” she asked, looking at Adelstan. Her heart leapt at seeing heat in his eyes.

  “Successful.” Adelstan looked to her father. “I think it is safe to say Castle MacKay’s kitchens will be stocked with enough venison to keep the people happy for a long time to come.”

  She was greatly impressed with other skills he possessed as well.

  “Indeed,” she said, moving to pass by her father, but motioned toward the place to his left. “Your stepmother is not feeling well this evening, so she will be staying in our chamber. I would like ye to take her place so that we may converse.”

  Disappointment ate at her insides. “Of course, Father.”

  Throughout supper, Rhiannon bit her lip several times, especially when Machara came around, lingering before Adelstan, who did nothing to encourage her that Rhiannon could see.

  Still, jealousy made her grit her teeth a time or two.

  Not only that, she could see the women at the tables below watching him. What would she do when they reached Almeron and she discovered he had a leman there, or someone special to him? There would be naught she could do to stop him from being with anyone else.

  Nothing.

  She had no hold on him now, and when she married, all hope would be lost.

  Lifting the goblet to her lips, she took a long drink of the hearty ale, enjoying the way it warmed her belly. She caught sight of Elspeth below, her attention shifting between Adelstan and Rhiannon. Their gazes caught and Rhiannon could see the sympathy in her friend’s eyes.

  Such a hopeless situation.

  “I spoke to Elspeth earlier today and she said ye had not yet packed.”

  Her stomach twisted. “I am not ready to leave, Father.”

  His eyes narrowed and he forced a smile. “It is expected that ye will mourn leaving Castle MacKay and your family, but this is your duty, Rhiannon. Postponing the trip will only make your betrothed question if ye want this marriage or not.”

  “No one ever asked me if I wanted this marriage, Father.”

  He lifted a brow, his expression set in stone. “Ye are my daughter and ye do as I say. Ye will marry Lord Malgor for your family and for your people.”

  “And what of my wishes, Father? Not once have ye asked me how I felt about this marriage.”

  “Lower your voice, Daughter.”

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Adelstan sitting back in his chair, no doubt listening to every word.

  “Once I leave Castle MacKay, I will never return, and ye ask me why I am so hesitant to leave?” She folded trembling hands together.

  “Lord Malgor is anxious to marry ye, and ye should show him the same courtesy. Your place is at his side.”

  The only reason de Cion was anxious to marry her was for her dowry and to get her with child. She was a pawn, plain and simple, and she bit her lip lest she tell her father just that.

  She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “Be that as it may, I am not ready to leave Scotland yet, Father.”

  “I know ye love your home, and I enjoy having ye here, but ye will not be so far that I cannot see ye from time to time.”

  “Ye have not left Castle MacKay for a decade, Father. Ye will not be coming to England to see me, and I am certain I shall be too busy with my duties as Lady of Almeron to return to Scotland.”

  “It is true I have not left my home. I find comfort within these walls.”

  “As do I.”

  He swallowed hard and looked away, but not before she saw the frustration in his eyes
. Adelstan was busy eating pheasant from the trencher, but she knew he hung on every word.

  “I would like ye to consider leaving within a fortnight.”

  It was more than she had been hoping for, and yet her heart said, Too soon.

  “Rhiannon, I must insist.” Her father’s voice held a hint of impatience.

  “Yes, Father. A fortnight and no more.” She took yet another drink and sat back in her chair.

  “Good.” Standing, her father clapped his hands twice and the minstrels began to play. Rhiannon glanced over at Adelstan, but he did not look at her once.

  She knew he had to have heard their conversation, and perhaps that was why he refused to look at her. How did he feel having heard the news firsthand?

  Rhiannon finished her ale, and a page was quick to refill it. By the time she swallowed the last drop, the hall had been cleared and dancers filled the floor. Laughter and music rose up to the high, timbered ceiling, and Rhiannon wanted only to find a quiet place where she could be alone with Adelstan.

  Jorden approached the high table, and bowed before her father. “May I have the honor of dancing with your lovely daughter, Laird MacKay?”

  Her father smiled, looking pleased by the request. “Of course.” He nodded to Rhiannon, who stood on unsteady legs. Perhaps she had drunk far too much.

  She felt Adelstan’s gaze on her as she took Jorden’s hand and he led her toward the other dancers. “You look stunning this evening, my lady,” he whispered near her ear, his breath smelling of sweet wine.

  “Thank ye, and ye are very handsome.”

  He flashed a grin that made her pulse skip a beat. She could see why women, and men, found him attractive. His dark good looks and wickedly gorgeous eyes could not be ignored, but then again, nor could Adelstan’s light good looks.

  The music began and Rhiannon focused on the moves of the dance, hoping she looked relaxed and fluid. She glanced at Adelstan once to find him staring at her, his expression indecipherable. He spoke with one of his knights, an attractive light-haired young man who watched Jorden closely.