Ancient Ties (19 page)

Marek was surprised he cared enough to protect her. In his world, privacy wasn’t an important issue. Between the accompanying entertainments of a typical Roman feast and the rough military life, he’d learned to take pleasure whenever and wherever it presented itself. If others watched, so be it. He was certain that Janney Forrester wasn’t accustomed to that lifestyle.

He didn’t want her to be. He wanted her for himself. Marek feared he might become insane if he didn’t make love to her soon—today. There had been numerous interruptions in his love life over the years, but these cursed goats might be the pinnacle.

The goat herder clomped in behind his goats, stopped dead still when he caught sight of the red-faced commander and his pink-faced woman, both staring at him. He didn’t move a muscle even when the woman covered her face with both hands and burst out laughing.

“Kids,” she shrieked.

The boy heard laughter from the woman, but unfortunately not from the commander. The herder whistled and nudged his charges together, offering a heartfelt prayer to Mars that the

commander wouldn’t kill him before he could grow up and become a soldier, too.

Shaking, but knowing that he would have a great story to entertain his friends with, the lad gathered all his goats and herded them away from the couple. At intervals, as they scurried away, he could hear peals of laughter from the lady, then finally, loud, deep guffaws from the commander.

“Thank you, Mars,” the boy prayed. “For sparing me.”

Janney had never felt this before—this ravenous desire. It was just like she’d read about in romance novels. A whole body ache. She’d laughed about the goats until she was shaking and almost hysterical. Marek’s laugh had finally joined hers, deep and rich. He’d pulled her into his arms, and they rocked together until they both flopped down onto their backs in the grass. They laughed until they were exhausted, and could only break out in giggling fits every time they looked at each other.

Their laughter died out and was replaced by an understanding of what they really wanted. Interrupted by goats, they now had only one thought—to continue what they had started—in privacy. By a silent, mutual decision, Janney and Marek mounted their horses and raced back to the villa. Janney had never wanted anything more than to give herself to him, to be his woman. She’d never even imagined she could feel this way about a man. Ed had become like a brother to her. Why had she never noticed that sex was such a low priority for them? When Ed had finally discovered it and left her, she had been devastated.

Bouncing in her saddle, Janney bit back a groan. No wonder women in the olden days rode sidesaddle. Riding astride a galloping horse was too provocative. Sexy. Didn’t it affect men?

The constant thumping and vibration?

Geez, look where my mind is.

All memory of Ed and their relationship was wiped from her mind. There was only one man she wanted now.

Janney spared a glance at Marek. He was watching her, his dark gaze wrapping her in its heat. Did he know what she was

thinking? Probably. He always had that knowing look, seductive and aware. Bump—bump—bump. Janney pressed her lips together.

God, he was handsome. Was he real? Wasn’t he too much of everything masculine and sexy to be real? The look in his eyes was purely salacious. She shivered, felt her nipples tighten and the continuous ache between her thighs. His knee touched hers.

When had he ridden so close? He angled his horse so that their thighs brushed; she could feel his heat through her thin tunic.

Marek leaned over, grasping her horse’s bridle, stopping them both. He laid his palm against her neck, caressing her in short strokes that calmed and excited her at the same time. His forefinger trailed up over her chin to brush her lips. His gaze followed the movement as he focused on her mouth. Lifting his eyes to hers, she recognized his raw desire. It matched hers.

Janney barely registered dismounting. She just heard his murmured instructions to a servant before the horses were led away.

He swept her along through the atrium, around the central fountain, and into the inner courtyard. “You’re quiet,” Marek growled out low and husky, turning to look at her.

“Mmm,” she lost herself in his black gaze.

The peristyle was thankfully empty of his servants. Marek pulled her against him and kissed her deeply and thoroughly. She thought she’d die on the spot. No more thinking. Just feeling.

Just doing.

Janney buried her fingers in his tunic, wanting to rip the cloth away from his skin. Her lips abruptly free; she took a breath. “Will one woman be enough?” Okay. One more thought before glorious oblivion.

“I’ll make do,” he responded in his soft gravelly voice, his muffled chuckle shaking them both.

How did he manage to rattle her with his deep, rumbling laughter, when at the same time his voice melted over her jagged nerves like liquid velvet?

“As long as the woman is you.”

Her knees wobbling, his warm, sexy voice polishing down all her sharp edges and worries, Janney took his hand and led him toward his room. He was close behind her, his heat and vibration raising her anticipation. The moment his broad back pressed the door shut, he latched it securely and tugged her back against him.

This wasn’t going to be slow and easy. She didn’t want it to be slow and easy. “Ahh,” she cried and swayed toward him.

Janney shoved his tunic up and off over his head. She panted as she slid her hands inside his undergarment, around to his bare, hard-muscled buttocks, and squeezed. Her breath became short and raspy as she pulled the cloth down. There was nothing soft about him. His chest rippled with muscle under the skin, his belly, flat and ridged, tempted her fingers to explore.

He peeled the tunic off her shoulders, pushing the material down to her waist, past her hips, collecting the feminine loincloth she’d taken to wearing—everything came off. Janney stood before him completely naked for the first time. His eyes glittered his desire.

Maybe he wasn’t quite as experienced and polished as she imagined him to be. His breath was labored and wispy on the side of her face, in her ear, as he pressed his lips on her temple, sliding finally down to her panting mouth. His fingers curled around her bottom as he pulled her against his muscled hardness.

“Ahh.” Again, her breath hitched. His erection prodded hot and hard against her stomach. At the baths, he’d been soft. At the village feast, she’d felt him thick and pulsing.

“Ohmigod.” Now, he was fully aroused. God, the ache of wanting him inside her. Her heart pounded like the village drums, intense, uneven beats. She shivered with want. Her fingers scrambled up between their chests, rooted through the hair on his chest, circled over his nipples, flatter than hers, but puckering just the same.

Marek groaned as she squeezed them. He picked her straight up, hands under her bottom, and carried her to the bed.

She crawled backward to lie across the middle and purred,

“Come here. Hurry.” Stretching her hands out to lure him in.

Gloriously naked, he knelt over her, between her thighs.

She reached down and grasped his penis, mesmerized by him, stiff and throbbing in her hand. His skin burned. He groaned, as her thumb brushed over the liquid oozing from the tip.

Janney growled, surprised at her reaction. She’d never growled before. Now she couldn’t stop sobbing with anticipation, with want. “Come inside me. Please. I want you.”

She pulled him roughly and guided him to her, slicking and coating his cock with her own juices. Her cry was rough when he drove into her deep and fierce, stretching her until she thought she could take no more. Tipping her bottom up, she took all of him. She lost her breath with his guttural groan.

Her hips surged. Sobbing frantically, her body grasped every ridge, every crease, every smooth inch of him. Out of control now, the sensations were too high, too intense. He filled her. She wanted more. She grunted, moaned, and rocked. Her head thrashed back and forth on the cushions, straining for the release that was just within reach, yet, wasn’t.

Something was missing. Ridiculously. Missing. Janney writhed against him. She was stuffed full with him, even her throat felt thick. She’d thought long and stiff would work.

Wanted it to work. It didn’t. Oh, God.

“Janney!” he growled over her. Sweat dripped off his face, his features tightened into a frown. He’d lowered himself to balance on his elbows over her, his chest crushing her breasts.

For a second, she didn’t know him. For a second, she lost her place, her momentum.

He didn’t. He drew his hands down around her bottom again, gripped her, pulling her up as he slammed into her again and again until, with his low hoarse growl and sharp, staccato thrusts, he let go and exploded deep inside her.

She felt his hot, thick ejaculation coursing into her.

Gasping, she waited. Balanced over her on his elbows, he was still heavy. Sweaty. Huffing and puffing in her neck. His breath

irritated her. He was hot, and heavy, and sweaty. And Janney wanted him off.

She turned her face to the side, away from him. Next to actually pushing him off, which she couldn’t find the energy to do, this, she believed, was the universal signal that the activities were over.

Marek apparently didn’t recognize the signal. He caught her chin in his fingers, urged it back, and slid his mouth over hers.

His face was still wet, but his lips were dry, warm and smooth.

She tried to shake her head free of his control and was shocked when she really didn’t want to. Even though she was still filled with his magnificent erection, his lips were the best part of him.

“By the Gods, I wanted you so much.” He pushed up off her chest and looked down at her with gloating pleasure.

She flexed her hips and realized he was still there inside her—still hard. She felt her own flutter deep inside. Flutters were fine, but she hadn’t come. It wasn’t like the night by the fire, and she didn’t know how to ask for it.

“No,” she groaned.

“No?” Marek mumbled dazedly.

“You can get off now.”

“But I don’t want to.” He sounded sleepy and surprised and turned on, all at the same time. “Why do you want me off?” His voice switched to wary.

Janney closed her eyes; she didn’t want a discussion. She just wanted it over. Okay, she’d wanted him, wondered what he’d be like. Now she knew. “It was nice but now we’re through. I want to go to bed.”

“We’re in bed.”

“Sleep,” she nudged up to give him the hint to get off. “I mean sleep.” Janney felt like crying. What had she expected?

This wasn’t a romance novel. It was real life. Her life. Her fantasy had just fizzled. She shouldn’t expect an orgasm every time. Goddammit though, she wanted one.

Marek didn’t move. He still lay over her, trapping her down with his hips, his eyes glittering dark. “Nice?” as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yesssss, nice.” He rotated his hips, reminding her that he was still inside her and still hard. She couldn’t help it; it was reflexive to squeeze her eyes tighter, to arch up. “Mmm.” Heat flooded her chest, her belly, the insides of her thighs.

“It was more than nice,” he said. “Janney, put your hands on me,” he purred.

Where were her hands? She eased them from their clenched position in the bedding and laid them lightly on his hips. The ache in her own hips and thighs reminded her that she’d been lying like this, her knees drawn up on either side of him, for a while now. She shook with tension.

As if he recognized her discomfort, he rolled onto his back before she even realized it. Still impaled on him, Janney found herself straddling him, hunched, surprised, and exposed.

Marek inched his way back, carrying her with him, until he was sitting almost upright against mounds of pillows at the top of the bed. “Now I can see you. You really are so beautiful.” His words were whispered, reverent.

He was close enough to kiss, his dark eyes riveted on hers.

A shiver raced through her body. God, he wasn’t finished.

Momentarily afraid of his expectations, Janney made a move as if to escape.

Marek forestalled her by gripping her hips, pushing them firmly down and then thrusting up.

“Unh,” she cried, shaking her head. Spiking pleasure rippled through her. How could he still be hard? She’d felt him come.

This wasn’t normal. Was it?

As if assured she wasn’t going anywhere now, he drifted his palms up the sides of her body, over her shoulders, cupping them as he gazed at her breasts.

Janney licked her lips, catching the lower one between her teeth. Her breasts quivered and shuddered under his gaze. He looked into her eyes, then lowered his, as they both watched his

thumbs move in slow, lazy circles over her skin. She held her breath and peeked at his face. His eyes followed his thumbs, his lips pursed. Janney sobbed aloud when his tongue slipped out and slid along the ridge of his teeth. His thumbs were leaving a trail of heat, laying down sparks of lightning. Her nipples puckered and tightened, she felt the ache radiating throughout.

She tortured her lip. Sounds came from her throat that she barely heard—garbled gasps and moans.

“Yes,” she panted.

“Yes?” his voice as strangled as hers. He brushed the pads of his fingers softly around her breasts in circles, going ever smaller, swirling around her nipples without ever touching the tips.

Janney worried her lip, held her breath, and watched those torturing fingers. She licked and pursed her lips unconsciously giving him direction. She wanted his mouth on her. A more confident woman would just come out and order him to do what she wanted.

“Your mouth! Put your mouth on me!” she gasped startled at her own brazenness. “Please, please.” She’d never begged before, had never been so inclined. He had to know exactly what he was doing to her.

Marek pulled her down, held her breast in his palm and drew a tight, pink nipple into his mouth. He wasn’t delicate or gentle, his teeth gripped, and his tongue lashed roughly. Her high, keening cry was his reward.