In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4))

by Griffin, Kara

  “Now it’s my turn.” He settled himself between her legs and thrust deep and hard. She withered beneath him, huffing, and moaning. James got caught up in listening to her sweet desirous wails that he had lessened his movements.

  Emlyn cried out, and James suspected she was nearing culmination, and he kept to the teasing pace. She screamed his name and he moaned. Her woman’s core tightened and convulsed around his erection. Such sweet, tumultuous torture.

  James couldn’t hold back and he became a beast. Pleasure entwined his veins, and he shook with magnanimous force. He thrust and stayed planted, for his body hardened and he released a ground-out breath in a guttural call. He was wracked in a paralyzing orgasm of which he’d never experienced.

  His breath rasped and when he opened his eyes, he found her watching him closely. The only thing he could do at that moment was grin, for if anyone asked him to move, he would likely fall.

  “God Almighty, James. I cannot believe how wonderful that feels.” She continued to stroke his arms and smiled.

  He laughed and pulled away from her, giving her a hand to help her sit up. Emlyn threw her legs over the side of the table and sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

  “Is it like that all the time?”

  He grinned, for he was about to tell a falsehood. “Aye, it is.”

  Emlyn’s sweet laughter flowed through him.

  “I cannot believe you came to me. Does this mean what I deem it to mean?”

  “Aye. I will help you.”

  She threw herself into his arms. “James,” she said, trailing light kisses over his face, “Thank you. Why did you change your mind?”

  He chuckled and pulled her against him. Her naked body felt splendid against his. “I’ve been released from my vow to my laird. When we go, we will let everyone believe you’re going to Marshall as agreed. When we reach the border, we’ll head north.”

  “Oh, I thought mayhap you … Ah, well that is good and I am relieved.”

  A bang sounded on the door and they both shot a gaze toward it. The banging persisted.

  “Who else knows you’re here?”

  More bangs came and shouts. “Emlyn, are you in there? If you are, ye best answer me. I demand you open this door at once.”

  “Oh, damnation. It’s my mother. Come, we must hide.” Emlyn scooped up her garments, and James followed suit. He clasped her hand as she led him to a dark, dank outlet. They seemed to be in a cave. “This should be far enough.”

  Once inside the cavern, James moved into a recess of rock near the entrance where Emlyn stopped. Light from the antechamber didn’t reach the cave and he could barely see her even though she stood next to him.

  “My mother won’t come in here. Stay quiet.”

  James pulled on his tartan, belted it, and held on to his tunic. He helped pull Emlyn’s tunic over her head and she giggled when his fingers brushed her abdomen.

  “You’re ticklish. I’ll have to remember that.”

  “Shhhh,” she said, setting a finger over her lips.

  James grinned and pulled her to his body. He kissed her and kept it up until his lips became numb.

  Voices came from the antechamber and Emlyn broke off the kiss, and leaned to peer into the lightness.

  “Emlyn, if you’re in there, ye best come out. Delyth told me where to find you. Hiding will do you no good. You will be sent to Marshall and will wed him as your father and I bid. You have a duty as your father’s daughter. As a Wales princess, you should not be acting so childish. I am being reasonable, but not for much longer. Do you hear me?”

  Emlyn whispered in his ear, “How can we not? She’s yelling loud enough to rattle the bats and wake the Gods.”

  “Mayhap she’s not in there,” one of her mother’s guards said.

  “If you do not return to the keep by this eve, I vow I will send ye to our enemy without a stitch of clothing on. Come all, I have spoken my peace.”

  The antechamber door banged and a quiet followed.

  Emlyn stood still and didn’t seem to want to move. James pulled her close and clasped her in his arms. “Do you deem she means what she said? I fear all of the Gunns would want to ride alongside ye, you being naked and all.”

  Emlyn laughed. “Oh aye, she means it. My mother was born to King John of England. Her heart is just as malevolent. I doubt she knows what compassion is.”

  James kissed her forehead. “Mayhap, you’re aright, for I know King John never had any. What is this place?”

  From deep inside the cavern, he heard the sound of dripping water. The scent of fish and an acrid smell engulfed him. He noticed the ceiling went upward and seemed not to end. He never would have guessed the chamber led to the cave, but the entrance was darkened and it appeared to be another room. It was far from an adjoining room.

  “Ddraig Goch, the red dragon’s lair, the dragon that guards my grandfather’s secrets.”

  Her grandfather had a strange name for his domain. “Where is he?”

  Emlyn pulled on her breeches. “He’s gone, died. He practiced the old religion and many still revere him. They deem this sacred land and none ever enter his realm. I’m surprised my mother did, but she never believed in my grandfather’s sorcery. My father sometimes speaks of the days when he was a lad and odd happenstances occurred.”

  “You believe he performed such rituals and of dragons?” James kept his expression devoid of humor, for he wouldn’t affront her.

  “Oh aye, for I saw his sorcery with my own eyes. I never did see the dragon though. I’m not certain, but he may have fabricated that tale to keep everyone away from the cave.”

  James looked ahead and his eyes adjusted to the dark abode. He spotted something bright on the floor of the cave. “Look there.” He began walking toward it.

  “Oh, James, it looks to be eggs. Do you deem they’re dragon’s eggs?”

  “I know not, but I’ve never seen such large eggs before. They’re warm,” he said, touching the closest one.

  “We should leave. I don’t want to disturb anything, especially if the dragon or whatever they are, mama’s returns. Come.”

  James followed her from the cavern back into the adjacent chamber. He finished dressing and leaned against the table where they’d fornicated.

  “Come here.”

  Emlyn stood between his legs. Her bright green eyes still misted with passion. James held and stroked her face with his thumbs and considered kissing her again.

  “I should return.”

  “Aye,” he said. But neither moved. He wished she didn’t have to leave his presence, but knew she had to return to the keep. “Emlyn, when we leave … Once we reach the border, we’ll head toward Gunn land. We’ve a neighboring chieftain that will give us sanctuary and aid. I don’t want you to fear.”

  “I won’t as long as I’m with you.” She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him.

  James returned the kiss, but broke it off when he felt the stirrings of lust. Aye, he wanted her again.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “Because, I now know what we experienced the other night and I will remember what it feels like to be inside you.”

  Emlyn smacked his hand when he raised it to touch her breast.

  “Aye, you’re a vixen, lovely, and mine.”

  Emlyn set her hands on the sides of his neck and whispered, “Always and willingly.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Emlyn was forced to submit. Her mother’s guard awaited outside the chamber and captured her arms before she made a move to defend herself. Even though she didn’t resist, they drug her forcibly to the keep. Her mother met them at the entrance.

  “Take her to the black-stall. She’ll not be able to escape.”

  “Mother, I wish not to escape. Please, don’t put me in there. I’ll do your bidding. There’s no reason to lock me away.”

  “I disbelieve ye. Put her in the stall and make sure the door is locked.” Her mother turned and walked away as if her punishm
ent were nothing but a mere slap on the hand.

  Emlyn pulled her arms free of the guard. “I can walk unassisted.” She followed, her chin raised high, with two guards in front of her and two at her back.

  They guided her to the lower level where the garrison was located. In the very back where no light reached, was a chamber where soldiers were placed when they had committed a crime or needed punishment. No one in their family had ever been sent there. She would be the first.

  Once inside, Emlyn turned to face the door and when they closed it, darkness prevailed. She couldn’t believe her mother sent her there. As angry as she was, she couldn’t fault her mother for she had disobeyed her and deserved her mother’s wrath.

  Hours went by and Emlyn lost track of the amount of time she’d been in the tiny cell. It could’ve been an entire day, but felt more akin to three. She daren’t sit and her legs weakened from standing so long. Emlyn wouldn’t touch the walls or anything inside the chamber. Every so often, she heard the rustling of a mouse—at least, that’s what she hoped it was.

  A noise came from outside the door and the handle jiggled and opened. Her mother finally came to her senses and was going to release her. Emlyn was appeased and would curve her tongue and not speak out. But it wasn’t her mother.

  Her father slipped the key inside his tunic and stepped forward. “Emlyn, my sweet, are ye harmed?”

  “Nay, Father, I’m well, but tired.”

  “When I found out what your mother did … I came straight away to free ye. Come, we’ll get you out of here. How long have ye been in here?”

  “I know not. Thank you, Father, for coming for me.”

  He offered his arm and Emlyn set her hand on it. She was grateful for his aid for she wasn’t sure she could walk on her own. When she reached the outside, she saw that it was nearly nighttime and dusk had settled on the land.

  “Come, we’ll sit there, by yonder tree.”

  Emlyn fell to her knees when she reached the grassy spot.

  Her father sat and leaned his back against the tree. “You’re to leave the day after tomorrow, lass. Tell me ye were able to find someone to aid you.”

  “I did. I’m gladdened that I’ll be leaving, especially after what Mother did.”

  “Do not blame her, daughter. She only has the family’s best interest at heart. She was reared in England and doesn’t have our winsome ways.”

  Emlyn snorted a laugh. “I will never be what she wants me to be.”

  “Nay, likely not. But we all can’t be what our parents want of us. Never fear, she has two other daughters to rule and mold as she wants. You’re akin to me, my sweet. Aye, none could tell me what to do when I was a lad.”

  “I’m sorry, Father, to be so troublesome.”

  He grinned and shook his head. “Do not apologize for being true to yourself, lass. So tell me, who is the Scot who will aid ye?”

  “His name is James. He is a guardsman to their leader.”

  “Ah, good, good. He has a position of prestige. I will meet him and ensure he is capable of protecting you.”

  “I am certain, Father, that he is.”

  He pressed his fingers against his beard, tugging it downward and nodded. “I left ye a reward, a satchel full of weapons in Aled’s stall. It is my gift to you for your journey.”

  “I thank you, Father.” Emlyn was thrilled to hear of his gift and she couldn’t wait to see what weapons he’d given her.

  “There are two maids awaiting you in your chamber. Go and bathe, and make yourself bonny. And on the morrow in the eve, we’re to have a farewell feast. It was your mother’s suggestion. Be sure to appease her. Wear something becoming a princess. Many will attend, including the Scots who are to escort you to Marshall.” Her father winked and gave her a small grin.

  Emlyn rose. She curtseyed to him and waited for his dismissal.

  “Go daughter, and get rest. I’m pleased you have done as I asked.”

  Emlyn hurried away and went directly the bedchamber that she shared with her sisters. There, the two maids had a warm bath ready. She undressed and sunk into the soothing water. By the time they finished scrubbing and dressing her, Emlyn was sleepy, and barely able to keep her eyes open.

  She lay upon the bedding and listened to the maids cleaning the chamber. Emlyn decided to surprise her mother on the morrow. She would appear at her farewell feast attired in garb to rival a queen’s.

  *****

  A chill set the air and brought forth a mist from the sea. Autumn would soon be upon them. James walked the trail to the waterfall and listened to the serenity of the morning. He’d slept through the night before. Finally, he’d gotten a full night’s sleep.

  His last thoughts before he closed his eyes were of Emlyn and their time together in the cavern. As he walked along, he couldn’t hold back his grin, for his thoughts when he’d awakened were of the same.

  His breath fogged the air, and he got cold, and he pulled his tartan around his upper body. The journey home would be dangerous. Not only did they need to thwart Marshall’s army, but it appeared they’d have to contend with a colder climate.

  James thought of home and how the men of their clan would take to hunting to ensure their stores were filled with meat for the long winter. Harvest would be in full-swing and tasks to get everything done before the change of season weighed heavily upon them. He knew Grey must also be thinking of such matters. Hopefully, soon everyone could return and put the king’s errand behind them.

  He reached the waterfall and hoped to see Emlyn there, but she was nowhere in sight. After washing his face, and using Sean’s small blade on his whiskers, he hurried back to camp. Training would soon begin and he wanted to see Emlyn again. James hoped she’d at least be there.

  When he reached camp, his comrades had just finished eating their morning fare. He was handed a bowl of pottage. It smelled delicious and of cinnamon, and he wondered where Sean had come of the spice. James set about to eat it quickly for they would soon be heading to the fields and wouldn’t break until near supper.

  “Sean, you’re getting better at cooking,” he said, and handed the empty bowl back to him.

  “Aye, he’ll be wearing a kitchen maid’s cap and be tending to the pots when he returns home.” Colm received a hard shove from Sean for his jest.

  James laughed. “Aye, he might want to hide from his sweet wife for I heard wives change during pregnancy. Is that not right, Kenneth?” He meant to tease both Sean and Colm for this spring they’d each have a bairn.

  Colm groaned. “Cosh, James! Don’t remind us. Who knows what Frances and Kelsi will be akin to when we return.”

  Kenneth bellowed a laugh. “They’ll be a wee bit fatter, that’s for certain.”

  To which Sean threw a hunk of bread at both he and James.

  “James,” Grey called.

  He looked up to see his laird standing nearby. “Aye?”

  “Come. You’ve been called to the keep by Llywelyn. He wishes to speak to you.”

  “Me? What does he want?” James grimaced. Her father couldn’t have found out about his encounter with Emlyn. He didn’t like not knowing what he wanted.

  “I don’t know, but ye need to hurry. I’ll go with you.”

  The sun finally showed itself and the morning mist was chased away. They reached the keep a few minutes later, and were bid entry by the keep’s maid. She led them into the great hall. He and Grey stood awaiting the Iorwerth chieftain.

  Llywelyn was being fetched, the maid told them, and disappeared through a door. James shifted from one foot to the other as uneasiness came over him. Would he be sentenced to death for fornicating with the chieftain’s daughter? James felt the room close in on him and a doom shadowed his thoughts. He heard the Iorwerth’s footsteps and saw him as he appeared at the entrance with his wife.

  The warrior chieftain was dressed for war as his mail glinted from the sunlight that streamed into the chamber through the narrow window casement.

  “All
will leave but James.”

  Grey gave him a regretful gaze before he turned on his heel and left. So much for his laird’s support.

  “I would know what you will speak of to this soldier,” his wife said in a demanding tone. She stood behind her husband and didn’t appear to want to leave.

  “I will speak to him alone.” Llywelyn sat in his designated chair. He frowned sternly at his wife when she didn’t make a move to leave. “This matter does not concern you. Leave us at once.” The chieftain’s voice gave the command with no option for her to question him.

  James continued to stand, and he watched Lady Iorwerth leave the hall with angry steps. He didn’t like this one bit, for the longer he stood there, the more he considered what ramifications he’d bear. Would he be beheaded or hung? At least he’d had a last meal and verily it had been tasty. His thoughts muddled and an urge to laugh at such absurdity came.

  “Come, James. Sit, for I have something to discuss with you.”

  James released the breath he’d been holding. The chieftain sounded more at ease. He sat in the chair to the right at the head of the table, and kept his gaze serene, with his eyes fastened on the lord’s.

  “My lord? I’m not sure what you wish to discuss, but I am at your service.”

  “You appear to be a fit soldier and capable. It seems my daughter has chosen well.”

  “She told you?” James could’ve cringed at his words, but kept his expression devoid of any reaction.

  “Aye, from the first day I met you, I suspected her interest. I saw the way she looked at you when I introduced your leader to my family. And now that I think on it, I recall you watching her as she left the chamber.”

  “I should apologize, my lord, but I won’t.” James fisted his hands, readying to defend himself. In a matter of seconds the chieftain’s guard would surely come to collect him.

  “So she gave herself to you, aye? I told her to submit and for once the lass listened.” Iorwerth laughed. “James, I want your promise that she will not be given over to Marshall.”