At Her Service (Swords of Passion) (6 page)

“Came here?” Simon peered at her through angry silver eyes. “I followed you.”

“You do not trust me.”

He feigned amusement. “‘Tis my job to keep you safe, my lady.” He held out his hand for her to come down. “Let us return to the castle where you should have stayed.”

She jumped down and stood before him, her chin up defiantly. “I do as I wish.”

“You wish to kill yourself?” he scoffed as he yanked his sword from his prey’s bloody head and wiped the weapon in the snow. “Nay. Not a plan that your lord and master nor your king would sanction, Madame.”

“I have come here many times for more years than I can count and never have I had a problem.” She knew she sounded petulant, but she couldn’t resist her say.

“Until now.”

“Aye. Until you come. Now I have more problems.” She pushed him in the chest once, but her injured wrist smarted at the contact. She winced but still tormented him. “And you are the biggest.”

He stood erect, smiled slowly at her but watched her massage her wrist. “Aye, lady mine. I am. But what did you do to your arm?” He grasped her fingers and pushed up her sleeves.

At his words, she would have turned away, but his hold of her meant she could not. Her wrist pained her too much. “Let me go, Simon. It hurts. When I fell as the boar came at me, I sprained it.”

“Come,” he said more sweetly now and drew her cloak about her hair. “I will escort you home.”

“You cannot come with me.”

“To the wall gate, I will, aye. Then I will wait while you enter alone. No one will know, save I, that you were almost killed for your folly.”

She considered him, hurt by his curtness. “You like to taunt me.”

“You like to pretend our circumstances are not as they are.”

She bit her lip but nodded. “How right you are, my knight.”

“Things would be better between us if you accepted that we must do as we are bound.”

The advice of Ulred played in her head. “True. And so shall it be from this time onward.”

Simon’s silver gaze sliced through her, searching for honesty. “You are resigned then to our coupling?”

For long moments, she fought for the right words to reply. The snow fell on her face as she gazed up into his dear one, and she told him the truth he deserved. “For long years, my noble knight, I have yearned for your company. I prayed for your health and safety in foreign lands and wars. I longed to see you again. I even dreamt we were together, as one, on a bed much as we were the other night, though I must say, I never could have dreamt as well as what I experienced there in your arms.”

He stepped closer, his gaze warm and mellow, his lips soft and oh so appealing.

“Nay, Simon.” A newer emotion, a softer one, burnt in her brain. “I am not resigned.”

His face fell to dark despair. “‘Twas not my idea to take silver for this.”

To hear that dulled one pain. To know he might be cheated of his compensation brought another. Yet she knew, too, that neither of them might live long enough to care about either. With one hand to cup his cheek, she flowed closer to him, and in the pristine beauty of a chilled land, she pressed against him and up on her toes. Against his lips, she whispered, “Today, tonight is all we have. We shall be about our duty to each other and this kingdom quickly. And this time, I vow to do it with a bit more joy to comfort us when days and nights are colder than these.”

He crushed her close and lifted her up against him in such a sweep of delight that he spun her about. And when he set her down, she traced his mouth with one fingertip and stretched up to kiss him sweetly.

“Run home, Elise. Time is short, but my need for you is long and very hard.”

For the first time in years, she threw back her head and laughed heartily. “I need to see the proof!”

He spun her around and gave her a whack on the ass with the flat of his hand. “Get you to my bed, woman. I’ll show you proof such as you have never seen.”

Chapter Five

Snuggling under his covers in his room, Elise revelled in the softness of the linens and martens she had ordered the servants to throw on his bed. An honoured guest deserved the best the Earl of Atherton had. He had plenty of it to share. Even Alphonse’s serfs boasted of their comfortable pallets beneath the stairs and in the kitchen.

She rolled over to face the door.
What you do here, Elise, ensures they will live that way much longer. Phillip Crosby gives no regard to his servants. ‘Tis said he beats them for the smallest discourtesy.
Worse, t
hey were renowned in these climes for their greediness—and their interest in absorbing Alphonse’s estate into theirs was one ripe evidence.
But I will not think of them now.

The door opened, and Simon closed it behind him. At sight of her, surprise widened his features. He froze, his eyes on her face. “You frown, Elise. I thought you accepted—“

“I think not of us, Simon. But of the
Crosbys
.” She tossed him a brilliant smile and beckoned him with an outstretched hand. “I will forget them now for the next hour. Come kiss me.”

Simon’s lush lips opened in a joyful expression. He lifted one long brow. “You order me about?”

“Very well, stay there then.” She flung back the covers to show him her naked body. “Stir the fire, Simon. There,” she whispered then tipped her head towards the one blazing in the wall, “and consider the one here.” She ran two hands from her hair to her cheeks, her throat, her breasts, her waist and hips. Kneading the flesh of her thighs, she caressed her belly and thrust her fingers into her nest of hair.

Her cheeks flushed with her boldness, and as she shivered with enjoyment of her own touch, she watched him walk towards the fireplace. He stood in profile to her, but she could tell he narrowed his gaze, concentrating with too much purpose on the spark and flames of the logs. “Have you ever made love to yourself, Elise?”

Her fingers fanned out over her frothy curls. “Nay.”

He faced her. “You have thought of it, though?”

She combed her curls, and the friction tickled and titillated her. “Aye.”

He devoured her actions with his eyes. “Why never to do it then?”

“Why?” She caught his gaze and once more recalled Ulred’s advice to do as instinct instructed with this lover. “Because, my Knight Divine, I have never had such manly inspiration.”

He sucked in his breath. “I would see more then.”

She smiled at him, her mouth watering to taste him, all of him. Purring like a cat, she spread herself out, arms wide in the luxurious bedding, legs brazenly dropping open to let him view his fill. Her body flared with excitement at Simon’s regard, and the
crackling of the fire stirred her appetite for his acclaim.

Simon advanced, walking to and fro to survey her at every aspect and at his leisure. He hovered over every curve as he had had no time to do the other night when first they had mated. This time, his eyes lingered and caressed and his mouth dropped open at the sight of her fingers sinking quickly in and out of her cunt.

“How do I look?”
Now that I am sworn to have you at all cost?
“How do I seem after all these years, my lord?”

His quicksilver gaze flew to hers. Therein grew a storm of need. “Like never before. Like no other, Elise,” he declared in a low rumble of desire.

“Come closer then. The better to see what I have for you.”

He took two steps to the foot of his bed and braced two hands on the iron foot rail, his knuckles white with want. She placed her hands over her bush and, with the fingers of one hand, spread her plump cunny lips. With the other, she inserted one finger inside her warm and ready walls. Tempting herself, she arched, sighing at the feel of her fingers.
God’s breath
, she rejoiced,
already
dripping
and crying for this man. What can I do to make him take me all through the night?

He gasped, strode around to her and leant over her. “Know you what you do?”

“I have a good idea.” She smiled, a woman knowing she was capable of luring her man. “Listen.” She stroked her cunt from deep inside to catch warm cream and bathe her lips in long languid stokes of her fingers. The sound she made was luscious, and she undulated on the bed. “My juices flow over my fingers.” She rubbed her lips in deep circles and spread her thighs wider for his admiration. “Never have I been so wet, so full.” Her gaze locked on his. “So swollen.”

“This gratifies me. For in spite of all this,” he said, waving an arm in the air to denote the castle and those elements that divided them, “you were mine first.”

“Aye,” she agreed on a whisper then lifted her knees and opened them wide, her feet to the bed. She let her fingers find her seam and gently pull herself open once more. There she found a tiny mound of flesh Alphonse often sought and rubbed. The same one Simon had loved to her distraction the other night. Now, she found the underside of it and circled her forefinger there, moaning at the beauty of the delight that swept over her. Suddenly, she knew she was too devoted to her own pleasure here to chastise herself any longer for her desire.

Simon gave an unintelligible sound, strode forward and put one knee upon the mattress. He reached out to take her wrist but halted, his hand in midair. “How is your injury from your fall?”

“Healed enough to pleasure you and me,” she stated. Boldness now carried her onward, wanting to explore her own body, needing to display it for him and, in the rapture of her self-pleasuring, give him a joy as glorious. And for a man who had roamed the world, this ripe display, she would wager, was the way to build his desire. So she ran her forefinger down along one soaked lip and quivered, shifting slightly at the stroke. She closed her eyes and caressed her other nether lip in same such fashion. Her cunny grew fiery and gave off a sharp pulse of need. She cupped her bush, pressed herself and cried out for the fullness she was about to have. All her vivid memories of kisses from a fond and daring boy were about to be brilliant hours of sexual fantasy come true.

“Oh,” she told that boy-made-man now, “how I have longed to have you here inside me, Simon. I have wanted to do this.” She sent two fingers inside her core with such a demanding thrust that she rose slightly off the mattress. “And this.” She pushed her fingers in and out, in and out, in such a rhythmic flow that she arched off the bed like an acrobat. “And this,” she moaned, as she found her tiny nub with two slick fingers and pinched her little swollen button to fast jolts of delight. She whimpered, her need as great for her lover in fantasy as in flesh.

He tore at his clothes. His cloak. His tunics. His boots. His chain belt. His linen undershirt. And as he flexed his magnificent arms to climb in beside her, he pulled her hand away and sank to kiss the skin above her belly. “This is mine to kiss. Mine to plunder. Mine to invade.” He turned to open her labia delicately with two artful fingers and leant down to press a kiss to her needy, greedy little core.

The fiery touch of him made her moan and raise her hips to push against him. “I cannot have enough of you,” she confessed on a small sob.

He slid his body down the bed and rubbed his jaw into her wet bush. “We must see you have so much of me that you are ever after filled with delight no other man can match.”

His words sounded bittersweet but soon died as he growled in the fury of his claim. With iron grip, he wrapped his hands around her thighs and braced her open. He crooned over her plump beauty as his fingers parted her swollen labia and he kissed each mound with a hard suck. His tongue shot out to lave her one lip bottom to top then kiss her in loud and juicy draughts. His raving talent had her keening as he delicately ate at her little love button and delved inside with darting tongue to capture more sex cream to drink from her.

She bucked beneath him, but he held her to his mercy like a conqueror as he laved her other lip from top to bottom. Pulling her farther apart for his fervent tongue, he devoured her as if he were a starving man, circling her fiercely tender nub and licking its little base and top. “Your pretty cunny is the only food I have ever wanted.” He put his lips to her again. There, he sucked her so delicately she thought she’d fall into a thousand pieces. He licked her so hard she thought her body was made of sugar. Then, he nibbled at her tender button and shot two fingers up inside her cunt so fast she thought she would fly apart at his possession. He built a raging fire in her, a violent tremor that made her keen in need as his fingers stroked her. She shouted and beat the bed with fisted delight.

“You must take me
now,
” she shouted at him.

But he grunted at her, laughed without mirth then pulled her up to sit. Her pounding core pressed to the cool bed, empty and crying to be filled. Slowly, he kneeled before her, cupped her chin and made her look him in the eye. His were silver madness, hot and swirling over her mouth, her nipples, her thick bush. He glanced down, leading her eyes to his actions. There, he threaded his fingers into her pale, curly hair and ran one blunt finger along her juicy seam. She moaned, but with his other hand, he palmed his rod up for her to see. “Touch me,” he commanded.

She shivered in delight at the size of him. He surely was longer than her hand. More, perhaps. And round, so full, that reaching out to touch him, her fingers could not encircle him. She petted him once and groaned in need then shifted to rub her cunt against the sheets as he began to stroke himself to an engorged blue-veined rod. Drops of his cum appeared on his penis, and in her own joy at his homage, she bent to pay her own.

She licked him. Laved him. Bathed his entire length in her own sweet claim, over and over again. She had never done this, never wanted to. But Simon’s rod she had to have in all ways that she could. She kissed his tip, ran her lips over the length of him and tried to caress him with one sure hand. She knew for the size of him, she could not embrace him totally. The lack drove her to do what she could to give him pleasure, and she bathed him with her tongue, as she prayed soon he would bathe her cunt with this fine rod. As she heard him moan in his delight, she revelled in the pace and strength of her pleasuring him. She could love him thus forever, and at the realisation, she sucked his bulbous end in one hard pull and declared her possession in one smooth pop.

He shouted, lifting her off him and pushing her down to the bed. “You do me well. But there can be more, my love. Feel.” He fell over on his back. “Rise above me and put your pretty cunny near my lips.”

His endearment thrilled her, and she trailed a hand down the rope-like muscles of his massive chest to his shaft. “This can be done?”

“Come, sweet one,” he led her to place her swollen lips above his mouth, “and let me pleasure you as you do me.”

The feel of his possession of her core, the strong pull of his fingers to spread her as he nibbled and licked and sucked at her was rapture as she endeavoured to lick him and lave his hard rod. But her thighs trembled in the effort, her knees on the bed wobbled and she cried out, angry at herself that this delight was one she could not finish.

He rolled her over, reversed himself and dropped a quick kiss to one pointed nipple and the other. “Do not despair, my sweet. We will perfect this art.”

“Have me now, Simon.” She wrapped her arms and legs around him. “I am going to pound with joy soon and I do not wish it without you in my cunt.”

“Nay, beauty,” he vowed and kissed her hard and fast. “Loving you is what I was made me for.” He reached down between their love-soaked bodies, took himself in hand and rubbed his blunt head over her wet and tender lips. He took her with one swift stroke. “You are mine, only mine.”

Then he proved to her that no man could ever possess her heart as this one had her body.

She did not know how long she slept, but when she awakened, she saw Simon walking to his door. She heard him exchange a few words with his Oriental in a strange language and afterward, he softly closed the door.

“What does your man say? Is aught amiss?” she asked Simon as he came back to her, a golden pagan god in naked splendour.

“Nay, my sweet. I told Omar to knock several times a day to ensure we are well. I will have no one intruding on our pleasure, least of all Cleve or any of the servants. My Omar is a devoted man, and you should feel safe with him near.” Simon bent to cup a breast. “I want to love you without regard to others’ intrusions.” He laved his velvet rough tongue around her budding nipple. “Hard diamonds, aren’t they?”

“For you,” she told him, as happy for his care of their safety as she was for his devotion to their mating.

He bit her nipple lightly and her cunny vibrated with glee. “Shall I make these pretty points beg for me?” he asked.

“Oh, do, please.” She squirmed on the linens in her joy. “Come lick me and suck me. I cannot have enough of your mouth.”

“Only my mouth?” He pulled at her areola with his lips.

She gasped. “All of you.”

“Wonderful.” He smiled. His gaze caressed her while his fingers stroked her creamy depths. “I have a prize to display for your two pink tips.” His brows arched high in a teasing arc. “Shall I show you?”

She clapped her hands, eager as a child about to receive a toy. “Do, please.”