He shook his head, yet clinging to his certainty that ’twould make him a knave to take what she offered. “You do not understand...”
“And I do not care.” Jacqueline kissed the corners of his mouth in quick succession, then whispered against his lips, the fan of her breath melting his resistance. “Love me, Angus, and let the once suffice for all.”
When she kissed him fully, his resistance abandoned him, like the pollen of a flower scattered in the wind.
Chapter 13
Jacqueline knew the very moment that Angus surrendered to her. His touch changed, the restraint in his manner dissolved, and she felt his passion unleashed. Angus had introduced her to such tenderness and sensation that she was anxious to know more.
She was curious.
And she desired Angus as well. There was something about this man that made her aware of her femininity, that made her yearn to understand what intimacy passed between men and women. She had decided impulsively that ’twas a sign that she should discover the truth of it with him.
Perhaps that was but an excuse. Either way, there was a quickening in her blood when he kissed her so ardently as he did now, as if her own flesh knew more of what would come than she did herself. His hands roved over her as he tasted her and she echoed his gestures, determined to give as much as she was granted. She felt the span of his shoulders, the muscles in his upper arms, the corded strength of his neck. She matched him, touch for touch, savoring every sensation even as ’twas excelled by the next.
Angus caught her close. Jacqueline felt the chill of the stone against her back and smiled when he was stretched out beside her. ’Twas as if they lay abed, though the rock was not the softest pallet they might have known. Jacqueline did not care.
There was naught but they two. If they had lain in a palace of richest ornament, upon pillows of fine silk and amid expensive perfumes, his touch would not have pleased her more.
Angus slid one broad palm slowly down the length of her. Jacqueline rose to his touch, feeling like a cat stroked before the fire. He chuckled and repeated his gesture, lingering upon her hip, the indent of her waist, the fullness of her breast. She twined her arms around his neck and arched against him, tangling her fingers in his hair and offering her lips for his kiss.
He held her nape in one hand, his other cupping her breast as he kissed her deeply. The teasing of his fingers made her gasp and she felt him smile. He eased the neck of the chemise open, and the heat of his hand suddenly caressed her bared flesh. Jacqueline had never felt so aflame, nor had she felt such urgency within her belly for more before.
Angus loosed the drawstring further, his hand sliding lower even as his teeth drew the neckline wider. He nuzzled her neck and kissed her ear, his hand sliding over her belly, before his fingers slipped into the nest of curls below.
’Twas more wondrous than she could have imagined. She reveled in his touch and the rising tide within herself, running her hands over him. She wanted to please him as he pleased her, but hesitated to reach beneath his own chemise. Sensation overwhelmed her all too soon, leaving her powerless to think, let alone respond.
Angus took her to the brink of release, then let his fingers slip over her thighs. Jacqueline moaned that he denied her such pleasure and wriggled against his hand impatiently.
Angus laughed quietly. “’Twill be all the better for the wait, vixen,” he promised, then coaxed her to the precipice once again.
When he withdrew this time, she cursed him in jest and they laughed together, as if they coupled thus all the time. Indeed, his ploy fed her hunger for him and loosed her inhibitions as surely as the tie of that chemise. Jacqueline became bolder and more demanding.
She could feel his response to that, straining against her hip.
Angus spoke the truth, for each time she danced higher and more breathlessly. She clung to him and kissed him and ran her teeth across his neck. She twined her legs with his, she entreated him, she kissed him anew.
He shivered and growled deep in his throat. She caught hold of his erection through his chausses and caressed him with gentle persistence.
He gasped in a most satisfactory way, then hauled her against his length. His fingertips danced with new vigor, his tongue cavorted with hers as if he might swallow her whole. Jacqueline ascended that peak with dizzying speed, and she screamed aloud as she abruptly found release.
“Angus!” she cried, her voice echoing in the cavern. He held her fast while the passion exploded within her, then clasped her tightly while the tremors subsided.
Jacqueline clung to him, closing her eyes against the thunder of her heartbeat. When she caught her breath, she realized her fingernails were nigh embedded in his shoulders.
“I have hurt you!” she whispered. She rained kisses upon the flesh that must be marked by her nails, then glanced up to his face.
Contrary to her fears, she saw the rare flash of his smile.
“And?” There was a wealth of pride in that single word, a faith in his own ability to please that made Jacqueline smile in turn.
“You did not mislead me, Angus,” she declared, cupping his face in her hands. “For ’twas indeed all the finer for having waited.” She kissed him and noted now the tremor of his own desire.
’Twas time she paid her own due.
“But then, you never have misled me,” she whispered, liking very well that this was the man who would first know her fully.
Jacqueline kissed Angus anew, even as his hands slid beneath the chemise to cup her buttocks. He squeezed them, then lifted the linen garment away, breaking their kiss that the garment might be cast over her head.
Jacqueline found the hem of his tunic and made to remove it as well, but Angus seized her wrists. “Nay.” He punctuated his denial with a kiss to her temple.
He wanted only to protect her from the sight of him. “’Tis dark, Angus. You need not fear what I might see.”
Still he was resolute. “Nay, Jacqueline.”
“I would touch you in truth. I would know how a man is wrought.” She curled against him and heard his quick intake of breath. “I would feel your flesh against my own.”
Aye, he was not indifferent to what she offered. Jacqueline kissed him in her own turn, using her teeth and her tongue until he moaned beneath her caress. She kissed his ear and felt him shiver, then reached for the hem anew.
“Stubborn wench,” he whispered, though he did not fight her.
“Aye, most stubborn indeed.” Jacqueline flung the tunic aside, sending his chemise after it in short order.
“You will regret this course.”
“Nay, not I.”
His flesh was smooth beneath her hands, though he stiffened when her fingers strayed toward his right chest. She did not touch him further there, understanding that he would not find such a caress pleasurable.
She spread her hands flat against him, intrigued by the smoothness of his skin, the wiry hair she found in the midst of his chest and on his forearms, the sinew of muscle beneath. Her hands slid down his torso to his waist, over his flat taut belly.
Then she hesitated, her hands stilling upon him.
Angus chuckled. “But you are not so bold as you would have others believe.”
Jacqueline felt herself blush. “I do not know how men’s chausses are fastened,” she insisted, though that was not entirely true. She had never unfastened a man’s chausses, but she had eyes in her head. It seemed impossibly bold to simply disrobe him.
But Angus was either unaware of her shyness or untroubled by it.
“The lace is in the front,” he purred, taking her hands in his. “Let me help you find it.” Again, she thought she heard a thread of laughter in his words.
But he laid her hands upon the front of his chausses and she forgot all else than what was beneath her fingers. She felt the lace, but she was more aware of the strength of him beneath the barrier of the wool. Indeed, he seemed to grow beneath her touch.
Her cheeks might have been afla
me, but she did not take her hands away. Indeed, she was curious enough to explore. Angus caught his breath when she moved her fingers. She caressed him gently through the cloth, sliding her fingertips up and down his length. He gasped and shuddered, and she could feel his muscles tightening.
“’Tis large,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“I suspect you have had a part in that.”
She plucked at the lace, for ’twas clear Angus had no intent to aid her in this task. And when his chausses were unfastened, she slipped her hands beneath the wool, caressing him gently, much as he had touched her. His erection grew and hardened until he sat up abruptly and discarded his chausses himself. He flung them across the cave then drew her into his arms once again.
“Vixen,” he muttered, then kissed her soundly.
Jacqueline melted against him. She loved the feel of him against her, the tickle of his hair against her skin, his strength against her softness. ’Twas all new yet wondrous. She tangled her legs with his and found herself on her back once more, the shadow of Angus leaning over her.
“How did Reynaud assault you?” he murmured. Jacqueline blinked, for she had nigh forgotten that abuse and certainly did not feel it had any link to what they did together now.
“He was atop me, holding my wrists while I lay on my back.”
Angus kissed her cheek. “I apologize for reminding you of that, however inadvertently.”
“’Twas not the same.” She smiled, though she knew he could not see it. “’Twas never the same with you.”
“But you were fearful of me from the first.”
Jacqueline took a deep breath. “I feared ’twould be the same and ’twas that fear that fed my response.” She touched his jaw, feeling the tension of uncertainty in him and loving that he was so protective of her. “But you never touched me roughly as he did, Angus, and I was quick to see that I had naught to fear from you.”
Angus kissed the tip of her nose. “Nonetheless, I will not risk a sudden memory.”
He clasped her waist, then deftly rolled to his back.
Jacqueline gasped then laughed, for she sat astride him. She was kneeling, her heat close to his hardness, her hands upon his belly.
“This time,” he declared in a low voice, “’Twill be you who assaults me.”
“It can be done this way?”
He laughed. “It can be done many ways, my vixen.” She felt his fingertip brush her cheek even as his voice dropped lower. “But this way, the deed is the lady’s to command.” Jacqueline’s heart warmed with this sign of his consideration. Truly, she had found a man of rare honor with whom to share this deed. “But I do not know what to do,” she admitted, laughing.
Angus cupped her buttocks and coaxed her over him, moving until the tip of his hardness nudged at her.
“Oh.” There was a twinge, enough to make her wince but no more than that, then she felt his heat ease slightly inside her. “Oh!”
“Are you pained?” He froze, anxious for her answer.
“Nay, naught but a twinge.” Jacqueline leaned down and kissed him, not wanting him to misunderstand. “’Tis fine.”
“Then we shall continue,” Angus whispered huskily. He eased her lower, letting another increment of him slide within her, and Jacqueline felt her knees weaken at the sensation. “Oh!”
“Oh, indeed,” he echoed, letting his hands slide down her thighs. She felt a shiver run over him and knew that such control was not so readily won. “’Tis for you to set the pace, Jacqueline.”
“But you must aid me.”
“Not now. ’Tis all at your command.”
“But, but, you will not fit within me.”
Again he chuckled. “Aye, I will. But if the deed is not pleasurable, ’tis in your power to halt.”
Trusting his conviction, Jacqueline took him within her in small measures that left him gasping beneath her. He seemed to grow tighter and quieter each time she moved, his muscles as hard as the rock beneath her knees. To her amazement, ’twas not long before she sat fully on him.
“And?” Angus’s question was as taut as the rest of him.
Jacqueline laughed lightly, her eyes widening at the sensation that resulted. “I am full of you, nigh filled to bursting.”
“How does that feel?”
“Well enough, but less remarkable than I had expected,” she admitted honestly.
“Indeed?” There was that hint of laughter again.
“Indeed,” she agreed. “I would not have you offended, but there should be truth between us in this moment.”
“Aye, that is a good impulse. Tell me more.”
“’Tis not an unpleasant sensation, but hardly worth much sacrifice.” Jacqueline frowned. “People risk so much with such relations, I had expected the deed to be at least as pleasurable as what we did before.”
“But we have only just begun, my Jacqueline,” Angus said silkily. He fitted his hands about her waist and lifted her until he was only just within her, then lowered her again.
“Oh!” Jacqueline whispered, the move awakening a new army of tingles within her.
“Oh,” Angus mimicked, then repeated his move. Jacqueline rocked her hips as she became accustomed to him, and he inhaled sharply though he did not halt.
Feeling in command of this delight and bold with her power, Jacqueline moved of her own volition. The tender part of her that he had already pleasured was rubbed in a most intriguing way when she arched her back. She leaned forward to kiss him and ’twas yet better.
He caught her around the waist, then moved within her with increasing ardor. She could not have said who led their dance for they found a rhythm together. She felt that heat gathering beneath her flesh once more and wanted all that he might surrender to her. And then Jacqueline knew she would need more. ’Twas not a deed any woman could do only once.
She did not want to do this only to know what ’twas like. She wanted this because she wanted this man. And she did not desire him only once. Nay, Jacqueline wanted to meet Angus MacGillivray abed like this every night of her life and perhaps on more than a few afternoons.
She wanted to hold his secrets and be there when he faced his fears, she wanted to see justice wrought for him and his family. She wanted to ride by his side for all her life. She wanted to see that half smile when first she awakened in the morning, she wanted to bear him sons.
Because she loved him.
That understanding made this even more exhilarating. She coupled with the man who held her heart. She writhed against Angus like a wanton but was powerless to stop.
Indeed, she did not wish to stop. She wanted him to know how he made her feel—she wanted to know that he felt the same way. She made to tell him of her love with her touch.
Jacqueline felt Angus watching her, as if he too had made such a realization. Inordinately pleased by the prospect, Jacqueline touched him as she had never imagined she would be bold enough to touch a man. She felt his own body grow taut and knew that he too rode in pursuit of a release.
Aye, they always would be together thus.
“Jacqueline,” he whispered, a question hovering in the strained word.
She had no chance to tell him that his regard was returned before the tide broke over her with astounding vigor. Jacqueline cried his name and shook like a leaf in the wind, then heard Angus roar as the heat of his seed spilled within her.
She tumbled into his embrace and he held her against his chest, their hearts hammering in rhythm. He caught her nape in one hand and cupped her against him, his thumb moving in a ceaseless caress.
Exhausted by their deed and wanting to be nowhere else than in his embrace, Jacqueline let her eyes close. Her breathing was ragged and a sheen of perspiration over her skin made her shiver.
Angus drew his cloak over them both, then hugged her against him. “Still less remarkable than expected?” he mused, his lips against her temple.
Jacqueline laughed. “Nay, ’twas wondrous indeed. I thank you, An
gus, I thank you for showing me the marvel this deed can be.” She kissed him sweetly and curled against his heat, smiling at his snort of satisfaction.
Jacqueline did not find sleep so readily as she expected, though she was content to lie, limbs entangled, with Angus. His breathing slowed though he did not relinquish his sheltering grip upon her, even in sleep. She listened to the pounding of his heart and thought about the man he was.
A man who had been cheated of much yet still did not lose his honor. A man who pursued justice for his family, who could not seek their own justice. A man who sacrificed years and opportunities for the greater good, then was cheated of it. A man who fought his own desire to see a virgin left chaste, a man who had treated her with more gallantry and care than any she had known before.
A man she could trust to keep her person and her heart safe.
The sky was beginning to lighten and the rain was slowing. Jacqueline sat up to study Angus as he slept. He was an uncompromising man, to be sure, but a man of principle and honor.
He frowned and stirred restlessly, haunted by some demon from his past. Jacqueline eased yet closer, wanting to comfort him but not awaken him. His other hand rose to her shoulder, then his fingers curled into the ends of her hair.
He seized a fistful of it and the anxiety eased from his features. He lifted the hair to his lips without opening his eyes, running the tresses across his face and inhaling of their scent. He seemed to find some respite there, then he grimaced as if snared in pain. His grip tightened around her hair.
Her heart ached that he should be so tormented. She kissed his shoulder, tears of sympathy in her eyes, then pulled back slightly and studied him anew. But Angus slept, unaware of the new day dawning, unaware of the uncertainties dawning in his lover’s thoughts.
Did he love her? Only now did Jacqueline fear the truth. Her mother had oft said that a man could welcome a woman to his bed without affection between them. Did Angus merely accept what she had offered, what she had insisted upon giving to him? Or was he simply reticent in claiming his feelings?
Stolen Brides: Four Beauty-and-the-Beast Medieval Romances Page 114