Claiming A Lady (2 page)

Her voice was soft and wistful. “And you took
the tray from my hands,” she recalled. “You carried it to the table
and came back for another...and another.”

“I had to look again. You were the most
beautiful woman I’d ever seen and remain so.”

“Would you have kissed me?”

Her question surprised him. “Had it not been
against the laws of man and Warrior to touch you? Yes. I would have
kissed you.”

Bavin stopped, and Gawen turned to face her.
He didn’t question her purpose. One moment, he was staring into her
eyes. The next, their mouths were meshed together, the length of
her body pressed to his.

Gods, but she tasted sweet...and her scent
made his head swim. He drank her down, needing all she would give.
But how much was that?

Gawen broke off the kiss slowly, staring down
at her. He wanted to ask but feared pushing her too fast for
comfort.

“You haven’t taken release in one of the
widows for nearly a week, Gawen.”

On some level, it shocked him that she knew
it. On another, it wasn’t surprising that she did. Knowing he
intended to claim her as his own, Gawen’s exploits would be of
concern to Bavin. She had the right to her investigation of
him.

“And what else did they tell you?”

Her face darkened once more. “How talented a
man you are,” she admitted. “Will you...”

“Yes?” When she didn’t continue, he did. “Did
something they told you concern you? I would do nothing you found
troubling. Surely, you know that.”

“No.” But there was more left unsaid.

“Bavin?”

“Will it be that way between us? The way you
were with them?”

“It will be better. You’re my bride,
Bavin.”

“And you didn’t seek them out these past
days, because...?”

His fire lit in need. “Because the memory of
your smile as you confirmed you’d stand was in my mind. I couldn’t
take solace in another without seeing your face, and I wouldn’t be
so faithless to you.”

Her breathing hitched. Her hand crept beneath
his tunic, tracing the ridge of his cock, from base to head.

Gawen closed his eyes, memorizing every
touch. This would have to hold his fire in check until Bavin was
ready for more.

“What do you want, Gawen?” she breathed.

“You...when you’re ready.” She deserved the
truth. “I will wait for you to become comfortable with --”

Bavin untied one set of laces on his trews,
rendering him momentarily mute. “There is no need to be faithless
to a willing woman.”

Gawen leaned to her, parting her lips in a
tender kiss. She met him without reservation, and her fingers
worked at the tie on the other set of laces.

He encircled her wrists with his fingers and
guided her hands away, breaking off the kiss with a shake of his
head. “I will not be faithless, Bavin. I cannot be. Not now.” He
wouldn’t return to the widows, and there was no need for her to
rush to this to prevent it. “But I will not hurry you. If you need
time to --”

“My body aches for you,” she whispered, her
eyes pleading with him. “It has since I knew your intent. No one
would dare try to take me from you. This I knew. I have been yours
since the moment you asked if I intended to stand.”

His mind was slow recovering from that. Gawen
looked around guiltily. This wasn’t right. “Come to my bed then.”
He wouldn’t spill her maiden’s blood here.

She nodded. “Your bed. Our bed?” There was a
hopeful note in that.

His cock protested the wait. “Our bed,” he
agreed.

The walk to his home -- soon to be their home
-- did nothing to cool his blood. If the glances at his raging cock
were any indication, it did nothing to cool hers either.

With the door closed behind them, Bavin rose
on her toes and circled her arms around Gawen’s neck. He wrapped
his hands around her waist and lifted, marveling at how his big
hands overlapped around her tiny body. He would have to be careful.
Bavin was no well-used widow to be subjected to a hard
pounding.

Her lips played at his jawline, spurring
Gawen to motion. He stopped at his bedside, indulging in another
heated kiss, groaning at Bavin kicking away her low shoes.

Duty intruded, and he sensed her.

His growl of frustration brought her head
back. “What is it?”

His mind worked hard at the problem. “I will
give you pleasure, Bavin.”
Just you.
Even spilling on her
could result in a child she wasn’t prepared for.

She smiled at that. “I trust you will, but
what is wrong? What makes you grumble and growl? Am I --”

“No. Never. It is --”
She is an innocent.
I must watch my words.
“Your cycle, Bavin. You are fertile
tonight.” If he indulged himself, she’d surely catch pregnant. He
wasn’t Veriel. The last thing he’d do would to be force this on his
chosen.

Her smile disappeared. “You don’t wish a
child?”

“Of course I do. What
Krieger
wouldn’t
want a child of his chosen?” The need was ingrained in them.

Bavin seemed to have problems forming words.
“Lay with me and explain. I fear I am lost.”

Gawen lowered her to the bed and settled next
to her, careful to keep his boot soles off the edge. Finding the
words to explain his concerns wasn’t easy. It certainly wasn’t how
he’d pictured their first words in their shared bed to pass.

He forced himself on. “If I love you fully
tonight, it cannot be undone, and you will likely catch pregnant
from it. One doesn’t rush into creating life, Bavin.” He raised a
hand to still her rising protest. “Be sure. It is all I ask. Be
sure that you wish to carry my child so soon...and I will endeavor
to make it a reality.” Just saying it had his cock straining at the
loosened laces of his trews.

She bit at her lower lip, seemingly thinking
hard on the matter. It was both a relief and torture. Bavin was
making a reasoned choice. He wasn’t convincing her to it. But if
she refused him, it would be nearly a week of maddening loveplay
before he could indulge in more.

But he’d come to her with that expectation in
mind. Surely, the chance of a child wouldn’t force him past reason
now.

Bavin’s hand pressed to his thigh and trailed
upward, taking his measure again.

Gawen forced a deep breath...then a second
and third. “Bavin?” He kept his voice calm and even, inviting her
honest answer.

“Love me fully, Gawen. Don’t make me wait for
you any longer.”

His cock bucked against her hand, urging him
on.

* * * *

Bavin expected bruising kisses and a fierce,
fast mating in claim of her. Instead, Gawen lowered his head,
urging her lips apart for kisses so deep they stole her breath
away.

In between them, his tunic disappeared, then
his boots and trews. Gawen paused, giving her the chance to survey
every luscious line of his body.

She licked her lips, reaching for her dress,
but Gawen’s hands were there first. He shook his head, gathering
the fabric between his big hands and drawing it up.

Her body responded fiercely to it, the heat
between her woman’s folds spilling over in preparation for Gawen’s
cock.
Or his mouth.
She shivered in delight at that. The
widows had told her about Gawen’s talented mouth.

He paused, meeting her eyes. “What is
it?”

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. How could
she say such a thing to him?

Gawen nodded grimly and started to ease her
skirt down.

“No,” she gasped.

“Bavin, if you are not certain --”

“I am.”

“Your body says something different.”

She shook her head, denying it. How could he
say so when she wept and ached to accept him?

“You shudder and --”

“Not in fear,” she protested. “Not in
revulsion.”

He closed his eyes, then opened them again,
seemingly working at that. A tentative smile pulled up at his lips,
and his eyes glittered. “They told you about something...something
you wish to feel.” Gawen didn’t question it.

Bavin seized the moment to answer. “Yes, they
did.”

Her dress slid up again, slowly, a torture to
her rioting senses. “Let me see if I can guess what it might be,”
he purred.

The dress passed her knees, and Bavin bit
back a demand for him to go faster.

“What is it?” His voice was soft and
encouraging. “Tell me, Bavin.”

The bold words stuck in her throat. Cool room
air touched her heated core, and she thrust her hips up, gasping
for breath.

The fabric stopped at her waist. “Tes and
Ani, yes.”

“Yes,” she repeated. She’d promise him
anything he wished for this.

“It’s my mouth you want,” he guessed.

“Yes.”

He moved slowly, seemingly in a daze. His
fingertips touched here and there, wringing gasps from her.

Gawen parted her thighs, opening Bavin’s legs
wide around his body. He retreated slightly, his head lowering at
such a pace as to intensify her ache for him into a pounding.

The first lick over the nub of sensation
nearly stopped her heart in pleasure. She’d touched it as she’d
prepared for him, wanting to be clean and appealing for him. It had
felt wonderful, but it was nothing compared to Gawen’s tongue
stroking against it.

He stroked again, and she moaned, unable to
be silent as she’d been when she’d bathed herself. The strokes came
faster, and she buried her hand in his hair, offering her
encouragement in the only way she could now that words had deserted
her. His face retreated, and she growled in protest.

“Remove your dress, Bavin.” It wasn’t an
order. Gawen’s voice was soft and soothing.

“Why?”

“I wish to shed your maiden’s blood as
painlessly as possible, but your dress will surely stain, as it
is.”

“Now?” The thought of his length filling her
was both frightening and energizing. She’d thought there’d be more
time to prepare for it.

“No, but when the moment is upon us, I wish
to follow it...if that pleases you.”

Bavin started pulling at the dress, her heart
hammering in excitement. “Yes. Oh, Gawen, yes.”

He returned to her sensitized core with a
grumbled curse, breathing the last of it into her body. His licking
was more avid, stealing her ability to breathe in a steady
stream.

Just as she flung the offending clothing at
the head of his wide bed, the licking became sucking, first at the
nub, then lower. Bavin cried out in surprise. His tongue dipped
inside, and she arched her neck and screamed at the unexpected
depth of pleasure.

The muscles of her belly and thighs
tightened, and she arched further into his ravenous mouth. Gods,
but she hadn’t believed the widows. What a fool she’d been to
disbelieve them. Bavin had always known Gawen was capable of nearly
anything. Why wouldn’t he be capable of stealing the world from her
senses this way, until all that existed was Gawen manipulating her
body as if it was one of his sacred weapons.

She’d watched him once, making the weapon
dance over his hand at practice. Right now, it felt as if he was
doing the same to her body.

Gawen returned to her nub, sucking hard...and
the world exploded in color and sensation. The sounds, if there
were any, were drowned out by the rushing of blood in her ears.

His mouth retreated, leaving stroke after
stroke of pleasure pounding at her body. Bavin noted her lower body
leaving the bed, but she couldn’t piece together why it would.

The next fractured moment was full of
conflicting sensation. She was full, stretched tight...probably
around Gawen’s cock. Pain and indescribable pleasure wrestled for
her attention. Her muscles undulated around his length, supplying a
patchwork of information about what it felt like to be impaled by
her husband.

There was no making sense of the cacophony of
conflicting input. Her muscles tightened again then released in
waves. Bavin arched her back, venting a scream into the
suddenly-heated air.

* * * *

Gawen groaned at the feeling of Bavin’s body
exploding into a second climax. She screamed, but it wasn’t in
pain. As he’d hoped, taking her at the height of climax had
confused her body and masked her pain.

A need to know she’d bled for him gnawed at
Gawen, and he eased back. The sight of the dark blood staining his
cock nearly sent him over, and the gush of it coursing down her
body and to the bed linens, no doubt pushed out by her continuing
contractions, had the animal in him raising its head to howl in
triumph.

Bavin gasped out a complaint, begging him to
return to her. He let one more drop fall and slid to the hilt,
forcing himself to a slow, steady advance. She cried out, her back
arching again, leaving nearly her entire weight in his large
hands.

The next few thrusts were less restrained,
and Bavin wrapped her legs around his waist. Gawen stared between
their bodies, feasting on the sight of her precious blood...on his
cock sliding in and out of his mate’s body.

My mate.
Bavin would carry his sons.
She would share his bed and no other. The
flutch
roared out
again at that thought.

I have to seal her as my mate. It has to
be tonight. I’m chancing a son with her before sealing.
Every
instinct told him that was unacceptable.

No.
Bavin had agreed to share his bed.
There was little chance she was ready for that. She probably viewed
the length of time until the marriage ceremony with relief.

That firmly in mind, Gawen resolved not to
ask.

“Gods, yes,” she breathed, coming back to her
senses after her second release, he guessed.

Her hands covered his, and her hips moved
within his grip, seeking a specific touch of his cock within her.
Gawen obliged her, wondering how many times he could force her over
before he was forced to release himself. In truth, he was surprised
he’d lasted as long as he had.