Sword Play

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Sword Play Page 18

by Sahara Kelly

His eyes were practically glowing as he reached for the laces of her gown, slowly slipping them free of their knots and loosening the fabric with each tug.

  She daringly pulled his shirt from his breeches and groaned a little as her hands found his flesh. Burning hot and smooth to her touch, it brought a matching heat to her loins and a tremble to her hands.

  “Let me see you, love,” he whispered, easing her now loose kirtle off her shoulders and pushing it to the floor.

  He was kneeling before her and she waited for him to rise and press his hardness against her. Oh how she wanted it.

  But again, he surprised and confused her.

  Instead of rising, he placed a soft kiss on her knee.

  “Gilles…I…what…”

  “Ssshh, Linnet. Relax and let go. Tonight you shall do naught but enjoy. I am going to love you, Linnet…” His tongue traced its way up her inner thigh and she shivered, feeling that flames must be following its course. “Love you until you forget everything but me.”

  As if that was going to be a difficult task. “Truly, Gilles,” she answered softly, “I think that will be no hardship.”

  His eyes flickered up at her from where he knelt before her. She saw his quick grin. “Good girl,” he said, and returned to his task.

  Low in her belly the heat had begun, and Linnet knew her body was responding wildly to the touch of his mouth.

  She flinched as she felt him near the juncture of her thighs and realized he was helping himself to the moisture that had already dampened her skin.

  “Mmm, such a wonderful flavour you have, Mistress Linnet. All woman and desire and…”

  His lips brushed her mound and her soft folds and she gasped aloud.

  “Do you mind?” He pulled his head away slightly, almost as if he was asking her permission to continue.

  She fought the desire to reach down and thrust his head back between her legs. “Er…no,” she admitted, thinking that she had just uttered the understatement of the year.

  Thankfully he continued, before she fainted from the need he was arousing.

  His tongue swept between her parted thighs, more deliberately now, sending bolts of lightning to her spine and her brain and even her damned fingertips.

  Never could she remember feeling this way. Never had every single particle of her skin been so alive to another human touch.

  Her nipples pebbled, her mouth opened on a breath and she sighed with pleasure as his tongue found her secrets and learned the texture of her swollen folds.

  He nibbled and nipped and licked, his fingers slipping to her buttocks to hold her higher and align her to exactly where he wanted her.

  And exactly where she wanted to be.

  She cried out as he suckled her flesh, her hips beginning to writhe underneath the steady sweep of that loving tongue.

  “You like this, Linnet?” His question caught her by surprise. People didn’t talk while loving. Not in her experience, anyway.

  “Oh yes,” she mumbled, striving to force the words past the huge lump of lust that was swelling in her throat. “Oh yesssss…”

  His tongue worked her hard now, making her shake and shiver and grasp his hair as her knees weakened.

  She could feel every slick swipe and flick and for a moment feared she’d collapse on top of him in a mammoth eruption of desire.

  “Your sweet honey is flowing, Linnet. We need no bees to make it run freely, just a touch,” said Gilles, blowing his breath softly on her mound.

  She sighed, losing herself completely in his touches.

  It came as a shock when he pulled away and stood. She found herself confused again as he gently cupped her face. “Taste yourself, Linnet. Taste your sweetness, your intoxicating flavor which has put a spell on me…”

  He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her passionately, opening her mouth and sliding his tongue inside.

  She caught a hint of him, his particular essence that had so aroused her when their lips first met. But it was mingled with a sweet tanginess, her own juices, and the erotically charged combination stirred her in places she’d never imagined.

  He pulled their lips apart, a sweet smile on his face. “Never have I tasted such a woman, my love.” He tugged his shirt free and off his shoulders. It fell in a soft pool on the floor next to her forgotten kirtle. “Come. It’s time we explored some more of these pleasures.”

  He stripped off his breeches and within moments had her lying on the bed. She made to move and pull back the covers, but he stilled her.

  “Stay, Linnet. Feel the softness beneath you.”

  He’d lowered her onto one of the furs that lay across her bed. Not needed during the warm months, but come winter they provided much-needed heat.

  Linnet paused, obeying his command. The soft stuff caressed her naked back and buttocks like the light touch of a butterfly. She squirmed her hips at the sensual brush of the hairs against her body.

  “‘Tis no softer than your skin, my sweet,” said Gilles, lowering his head and flicking light licking kisses across her belly and upwards to her breasts.

  Linnet’s head was spinning. This was…this was…extraordinary. Her whole body was melting beneath him, softening, quickening, and readying itself for his possession.

  And yet he was still taking his time.

  She could not say she was not enjoying it, for that would have been the wildest lie. It just puzzled her and caught her off guard. Never could she have imagined being loved like this.

  Gilles was hotter, happier and more involved with his lovemaking than he could ever recall being in his entire life.

  His world had narrowed down to the beautiful woman responding so willingly to his touch.

  Every gentle stroke, light kiss or flick of his tongue brought a moan of pleasure from her throat, and her sounds inspired him to even greater heights.

  And lengths.

  If he got much bigger or harder, he’d push her teeth out with his cock when he finally claimed her.

  But this loving was melting her beneath him, softening the edges of her concentration, and bringing the deeply passionate woman she was to the fore.

  He found her breasts.

  Firm, rounded, and hardened at the tips, they begged for his mouth, and he obliged, loving the sounds she made as he tugged her nipple gently into his wet warmth.

  He rolled it around experimentally, finding out what made her moan and what made her shiver. Leaving a dampness behind, he leaned across her and treated the other breast to the same touch.

  Her hands were gripping his shoulders now, nails digging into his muscles and kneading him. He doubted she was even aware of what she was doing, so involved was she in her newfound desire.

  Her scent filled his nostrils, and he slid a hand across her soft belly, finding her tight curls and slipping past into the drenching moisture beneath.

  Her back arched as he flicked her sensitive spots, and rubbed her juices over her mound and back down, finally, gently, slipping a finger inside her.

  “Ahhh, God, Gilles…” she moaned.

  Her hips were writhing, her inner folds growing ever hotter around his hand and finger.

  “You like that too, love?” He raised his head as he asked the question, the better to see her face.

  She moaned, and Gilles smiled. This was how he’d imagined her. Flushed and passionate, needing naught but him, his fingers, his tongue and his cock. Nothing in her mind, no thoughts of anything but him.

  And the pleasure he was giving her.

  And of course, he was happy to oblige. Never mind that his own body was ready to burst into a shower of seed, his cock struggling to release its life-giving load. He held back, gritted his teeth against the need, and continued his sensual journey over Linnet, learning her sweetness, drinking her desire, and turning her into a puddle of hot ecstasy beneath him.

  Finally, he could hold on no longer.

  Practically insensate, Linnet made no demur when he parted her thighs wide and settled himself bet
ween them.

  He paused, willing her to open her eyes and watch him as he finally claimed what he knew, with complete certainty, was his.

  His stillness must have penetrated her haze, because her beautiful brown eyes opened.

  Heavy lidded, she stared at him.

  “I am going to take you, Linnet. I can wait no longer for the feel of your silken skin caressing my cock. Like this…” He gently rubbed the head of his cock against her flesh, moistening it, and mixing his own drops of passion with the honey soaking her mound.

  She bit her lip against a cry and gasped with the pleasure of his touch.

  “Watch me, Linnet. Keep your eyes open and watch me. Watch me love you, Linnet…”

  His voice cracked with the need he felt shivering up and down his spine.

  Blue eyes met brown, and Gilles gently slid his ever-so-ready cock into Linnet’s waiting body.

  Further and further he went, pushing easily into her hot welcoming darkness.

  She took him all the way in.

  He stopped as their bodies met in a tangle of curled hair, his balls brushing her buttocks and her thighs high and wide, grasping him now, tightly, in an embrace of need and passion.

  He froze. God in heaven.

  She was fire to his steel, a gauntlet designed just for his male hand. She fit like she’d been made just for this. For him.

  He sighed, knowing this moment was unique in a lifetime.

  And knowing that a lifetime would be too short to enjoy it.

  He withdrew slightly and plunged back again. The feeling grew stronger, warmer. The knowledge that she was his mate, his other half. Her passion matched his, her body melded to his, and her heart…

  Saints, he hoped this loving was touching her heart in the same way it was his own.

  “More, Gilles, more…” she begged, writhing her hips against him in an effort to pull him back deep within her where he belonged.

  He was more than ready to comply.

  He quickened his pace, keeping his hips moving now, always moving, in and out of her fire, sometimes pressing hard against her as he plunged deep, other times just brushing her delicate flesh with his own.

  He raised himself a little and grasped her hips, pulling her body up from the furs and positioning her just where he wanted her.

  Where he could sink himself nigh to the womb that lay empty inside her. What he wouldn’t give to plant his seed there. To plant his future there.

  The thought blindsided him with its intensity.

  He shook a little under the force of it, the need of it, and found his shudders matched by the woman whose buttocks were clenching in his grasp.

  She was nearing her release.

  And so, to his surprise, was he.

  No thoughts of withdrawing and spilling himself outside her body even entered his mind.

  He was there to stay. To explode within her, to fill her with every ounce of himself. To claim what was most surely, completely, and unquestionably his.

  He increased the thrusts now, barely moving back before thrusting again.

  He released one buttock and slid a hand between them, finding that aroused button of flesh hard and ready for his touch.

  He stroked it as he sank deep within her once more.

  Linnet screamed and came.

  Gilles damned near screamed, too.

  His cock exploded as she clamped around it, pulsing and shuddering as her body spasmed beneath him, milking him, pulling him ever deeper until he could swear he felt her womb as it drank everything he had to give.

  His buttocks locked, his balls ached, and he let the fire sweep from his heels to his ears as he emptied himself into the woman of his heart.

  It had never, ever, been like this for him.

  His spasms seemed endless, and the slightest move brought Linnet to the peak once more, her gasps mirroring his own as she clamped her thighs to his body with a fierce passion.

  Finally, breathless, their bodies surrendered and softened, weak from their loving, and sated after a release that left them both stunned and helpless.

  Gilles slowly eased his cock from Linnet’s body, and with a gentle sigh rolled to her side, gathering her in his arms and holding her tight.

  She still shivered with the aftershocks of the experience, and Gilles was astounded to realize that he had tears on his cheeks.

  She’d touched him, somewhere new, somewhere vulnerable, somewhere he’d never been touched before.

  Sighing, he admitted the truth. She hadn’t only claimed his cock, she’d claimed his heart.

  The tournament was hers. He’d surrendered. Cried for mercy like the veriest squire out-manned in his first challenge.

  He was in love with Linnet Aylmer.

  Chapter 9

  The experience of being swept up once more into Guy’s arms made Mechele’s senses swim.

  He strode rapidly along the dark path to the barn, in spite of the burden he bore, and she felt his heartbeat pounding against her body. It was thrilling, exciting, and arousing all at once.

  Daringly she raised her face to his neck and pressed her lips to the slightly prickly skin she felt there.

  Oh how she wanted this.

  His arms clasped her tighter still, holding her high against him, as if to make her kisses easier for her. Obeying an impulse, she ran her tongue along his jaw, and a slight murmur burst from him.

  “Damn it, Mechele, I shall come right here if you keep that up,” he muttered, moving even faster and entering the shadows of the barn.

  Without a hitch in his stride, he carried her up the wooden steps to the loft where he and Gilles had slept. The upper doors were open to let in the moonlight and the cool night breezes.

  Mechele shivered. Not with cold, but with heat.

  He lowered her to her feet and his hands went to her breast, grasping the low neckline of her kirtle and with one savage tug ripping it from her body.

  She found herself hurriedly pulling at his shirt, fumbling with his laces, desperate now for the sight and the touch and the feel of his body.

  He helped her, tearing away his clothes until he was as naked as she.

  His grey eyes glowed with fire, and he pulled her hard against him, letting her feel his body, his cock and his rapid pulse as his lips claimed hers.

  Hard and demanding, his kiss sent her mind into a whirl of desire.

  She clutched at him, digging her nails into his back, sliding her hands to his buttocks, and learning his body as thoroughly as he was learning hers.

  He was all hard angles and muscles and his heat burned her palms as she discovered the joy of touching him.

  “By the Saints, Mechele,” he whispered through their kiss. “I want you.”

  His words urged her on.

  She was astonished at the savage need that swept through her. The unleashing of some deep dark fire of desire that she’d never imagined she possessed.

  He released her lips and she dropped her head to his chest, desperate to taste and touch and feel…

  Her hands threaded through the whorls of black hair she found rubbing against her and brushed against a flat nipple.

  His shiver was all the response she needed.

  She lowered her lips and suckled on him, bringing more shivers and a moan of pleasure to his throat.

  “You taste so…so…” she mumbled, finding the other nipple and treating it to the same loving.

  “As do you, sweet,” he answered, his voice rough.

  His huge cock was pressed to her belly and she felt shudders exploding within her at the thought of being possessed by him, by his length and his heat.

  He swept her yet again into his arms, refusing to let her move her head from his chest, just holding it there until he tumbled them both onto the blankets spread across the hay.

  Then his mouth claimed hers once again as his hands began to learn every inch of her softness.

  The hay was covered, but still stuck through, pressing its sharp points into her bac
k like thousands of tiny pinpricks. None hurt, but the effect on Mechele was astounding.

  She gasped as his weight pushed her even further into the hay. It was as if every nerve, every little spot of skin she owned was being stimulated in a new and arousing way.

  And of course, Guy’s hands and mouth were doing a fine job too.

  His fingers dove between her thighs, pushing, feeling, plundering the treasures he found there.

  His lips gravitated to her breasts and with one great gasp he suckled her in his turn.

  His tongue clamped around her nipple, holding it tight, almost painfully so, to the roof of his mouth, as he sucked.

  Combined with the devastation his hand was wreaking, Mechele sobbed in delirious pleasure.

  She writhed and squirmed and opened her thighs wider, encouraging him, needing him, wanting him beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

  This was no gentle lovemaking. This was true heartfelt desire and passion, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

  “More, Guy, more,” she moaned.

  It seemed he was happy to oblige.

  He plunged two fingers deep inside her, pulling back and fixing her gaze with his as he moved within her.

  “Mine, Mechele, mine,” he whispered savagely.

  “Yes, oh yes,” she groaned, lifting her hips to encourage him.

  He lowered his head to her belly and licked a path to her navel, pausing to drop little soft bites on the delicate skin.

  His fingers never let up their teasing, stimulating movements, and he pressed his thumb hard into the flesh beneath her mound, finding her most sensitive spot and abrading it with a roughness that was like to drive her out of her mind.

  His rough cheeks grazed her skin deliciously, the prickle of his beard stubble matching the prickle of the hay on her back.

  He withdrew his fingers fand she groaned at the loss.

  Then he replaced them with his mouth and she groaned again, but this time for the sheer thrill of his touch.

  He devoured her with his tongue, thrusting deep into her, replacing his fingers with fierce flicks and nips that she had never realized she’d needed so badly.

  She was soaked in her own juices and he sucked them greedily, slurping and eating her passion, then baring his teeth and grazing that little bud of flesh to send shivers of pleasure through her entire body.

 

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