Enchanted (27 page)

“Fill me, Simon,” Ariane breathed
against his lips.

With a throttled sound that was her name, Simon fit
himself to Ariane as he had in his dreams, pressing gently and then
harder, pushing slowly, deeper and then deeper still, feeling her
sleek and wet and tight around him, welcoming him.

A long, unraveling sigh rippled from Ariane as she
felt Simon parting her, penetrating her, stretching her…but
not hurting her. The wonder of the sensuous joining trembled
through her, ecstasy delicately raking her, calling a shimmering,
passionate rain from her depths.

The sultry eagerness of Ariane’s body drew
forth a single hot pulse of response from Simon. He eased his way
even more deeply into her, until he was locked within her, fully
sheathed, more perfectly coupled with a woman than he had ever been
in his life.

Ariane whimpered and clenched around Simon so
tightly that he could barely breathe for the pleasure she gave him.
The sensation of being held within a sleek, loving vise was
extraordinary.

Suddenly Simon remembered what Ariane had said the
first time she had held his naked, aroused flesh in her hands.

I am afraid of this.
’Tis made to tear a woman apart
.

“Nightingale,” Simon said hoarsely.
“Am I hurting you?”

When Ariane opened her mouth to answer, all that
came out was another of the odd, broken cries that had alarmed
Simon.

Sweat bloomed beneath Simon’s clothes as he
fought against his deepest needs. Ariane was so hot around him, so
tight, so sleek, she seemed to beg for an even deeper joining.

He knew he should spare her, yet he wanted only to
delve more deeply, pushing himself in to the hilt.

Slowly he began to withdraw.

Unable to speak, Ariane clung to Simon, shivering
with the violence of her response to being filled so perfectly by
him, if only for a few moments.

“Ariane? Is even this too much?”

“Again,” Ariane said finally,
raggedly.

As she spoke, her nails scored against
Simon’s neck and she locked her legs more tightly about his
body, trying to force him back inside her warmth.

Her strength was no match for his. He held her
away, wanting to be certain that he wasn’t forcing himself
into her tight sheath.

Torn, bloodied
.

Simon set his teeth. “Talk to me,
nightingale. Tell me what you want.”

“I—I must—have you.”

“Like this?”

Ariane’s breath caught as she felt herself
stretched and stretched while Simon slowly penetrated her again.
His name splintered on her lips.

“Am I hurting you?” Simon asked,
withdrawing.

She shook her head. “Not—like
that.”

“You cried out.”

“It was the beauty of—”

“This?”

Simon pressed into Ariane again, watching her eyes,
and this time he didn’t stop until they were so completely
joined that the silken knot of her passion was drawn tautly against
his body.

“Ariane?”

“Dear God, yes.
Simon
.”

The sound of his name breaking on Ariane’s
lips destroyed Simon’s control. His arms closed even more
tightly around her, locking her against him while he drove into her
again and again, drinking the wild cries that came from her
lips.

Ecstasy trembled inside Ariane, then burst,
trembled and burst again and again, spilling through her to Simon.
He gave it back to her pulse for pulse,
caressing her soft depths even as he spent himself within them.

Then he held her, simply held her, until they could
breathe without unraveling all over again.

Gradually the sound of the wind and stray lashes of
icy rain reminded Simon that he was on the battlements and the
sentry might come by at any time.

Reluctantly Simon began to lift Ariane off his
body. Her legs locked with surprising strength.

“We must go inside,” Simon said.

Ariane’s only answer was a sleek contraction
of her body that made Simon’s breath break.

And hers.

“Stay inside me,” Ariane said against
Simon’s lips. “It feels…right.”

“’Tis the same for me.”

Her mouth opened at the first touch of his tongue.
For a long time they tasted one another in a hushed silence
surrounded by the wind. Finally, unwillingly, Simon lifted his
mouth.

“The sentry might come,” he said
against Ariane’s lips.

“The sentry?”

“Aye.”

Ariane turned to see if the sentry were close. The
twisting motion of her body had a breathtaking effect on Simon.

“He is coming,” Ariane whispered,
turning back.

“We have a choice.”

“Aye?”

“I can put you down and we can try to set our
clothes aright before he notices.”

“He is very close.”

“Aye.” Simon smiled rather fiercely.
“Hold tightly to me, nightingale.”

Before Ariane could ask what Simon meant, he was
descending the stair. The sensations that came as he moved dragged
a ragged, low moan from her. With a
broken
sound she clung to Simon, using every newly discovered muscle of
her body.

When the spiraling staircase had turned enough to
shield them from the sentry, Simon stopped.

“You can let go, now,” he said.

Ariane shook her head and burrowed even closer to
him.

Beneath the mantle, Simon’s hand shifted
until he could stroke the very petals that were stretched so
tightly around him.

Ariane’s eyes widened. She gasped at the
sensations radiating through her from his probing fingertips. The
gasp quickly became a moan. Ecstasy cascaded through her, sending a
silky heat spilling over him.

“You are delicious,” Simon said
huskily, plucking at the sleek knot he had discovered rising from
Ariane’s softness. “I could take you again right now,
right here, with all the people of the keep trooping by in a row.
And you would let me, wouldn’t you? God’s teeth, you
would beg me!”

“S-Simon,” Ariane said brokenly,
“what are you doing to me?”

“Does it hurt?”

“Nay, but—oh!”

Ariane’s words were squeezed into silence as
ecstasy’s vise closed around her. Simon caressed her slowly,
watching her, smiling as her heat blossomed once more between their
bodies. While she convulsed gently around him, he lifted her until
they were separate, then resettled her legs around his hips.

“Hold on to me,” he said.

When Ariane obeyed, Simon had to bite back a groan.
The feel of her lush softness pressed against his open breeches
made his blood hot all over again.

He took the stairs swiftly and strode down the hall
until he came to Ariane’s bedchamber. The door was standing
open. He kicked it closed behind them. The draft from their
entrance made lamp flames stretch and
sway. The
fire in the brazier was little more than embers veiled in ash.

“’Tis nearly as cold here as
above,” Simon said. “But it doesn’t matter. The
only fire I need is between your thighs. Unfasten my mantle,
nightingale.”

Ariane struggled with the big silver brooch that
fastened Simon’s mantle at his left shoulder. While she
worked, Simon’s mouth moved over her hands, nibbling, biting,
licking, his tongue probing deeply between her fingers.

The sensual promise of the caresses speeded
Ariane’s heartbeat, but not as much as the smoldering hunger
in Simon’s eyes when he saw that her hands trembled.

“Are you afraid?” he asked, knowing the
answer but wanting to savor it from Ariane’s lips.

“Nay. ’Tis just that you…unsettle
me.”

The breathless admission made Simon smile
darkly.

“’Tis done,” Ariane said, finally
freeing the mantle.

“Nay, my lady. ’Tis only
begun.”

Simon threw his mantle onto the bed. The white fur
lining gleamed like silver in the shimmering lamplight. He lowered
Ariane into the midst of it and swept her hair up over her
head.

Her breasts were bared by the unlaced bodice and
her skirts were well above her waist. Nothing of her femininity was
concealed from Simon’s eyes. He looked at her with a
smoldering intensity that made Ariane’s whole body flush with
embarrassment.

And then Ariane didn’t care about her
nakedness, for Simon was equally revealed, standing proud and hard
through the opening in his breeches. With a smile as old as Eve,
Ariane reached out and delicately traced his erect flesh with her
fingertips.

Simon’s answering smile was hot and utterly
male. Impatiently he took off his broadsword and set it aside
while Ariane’s slender fingers teased him
from tip to base and back again.

“You are magnificent, my lord,” Ariane
whispered.

Fire ignited at her words, drawing Simon even
tighter, fuller, his life’s blood coursing visibly beneath
her fingertips. He shuddered at the certainty of his own potency
like a torrent pouring through him.

“You have bewitched my body,” Simon
said huskily. “No woman has ever aroused me as completely as
you do. I have just taken you and I must have you again.”

“I am here.”

Leaning forward, Ariane touched the tip of her
tongue to him, stealing the sultry drop that she had summoned from
the depths of Simon’s need.

“You taste as the sun must taste,” she
whispered. “Burning.”

“I taste like you. You are the fire burning
me.”

“’Tis you, Simon.” Ariane’s
tongue touched him again. “You are my sun. Before you there
was only darkness.”

Simon groaned and fought to subdue the urgency that
was raking through him with sweet talons. When he could breathe
again, he bent and slid one hand from Ariane’s ankles to the
midnight triangle just above her thighs.

Her breath caught at the intensity in his look.
“Simon?”

“Give me leave, my lady.”

Slowly Ariane shifted her legs until there was no
barrier to Simon’s touch. He knelt between her legs. Gently
his fingers parted her until he could trace the flushed, sensitive
folds. Her breath broke and he knew again the sultry rain of her
pleasure.

“You are more sensual than I hoped,”
Simon whispered, “hotter even than my dreams.”

Two fingers probed, parted, then slid deeply into
Ariane, stretching her. She gasped and felt pleasure surge sharply
through her, spilling onto his hand.

“You’re inside me,” Ariane said,
torn between surprise and desire. “
Touching me
.”

Simon inhaled sharply. The heady spice of her
response infused the very air he breathed, arousing him even more
in turn.

“You hold back nothing,” he said
huskily, “hide nothing, give everything.”

Simon felt his control unraveling, but he no longer
cared. Ariane was trembling with forerunners of ecstasy, her every
breath broken and as hot as the pulses his touch drew from her. The
sultry, tangible proof that he wasn’t caught alone in the
sensual storm made it impossible for Simon to hold back any
longer.

“Next time,” he said as he slid his
hands beneath Ariane’s knees, “next time I will undress
you and know you fully awake as I have known you in my
dreams.”

Simon caressed Ariane’s legs, parting them
even more.

“Next time,” he said, “I will
kiss you until you are silk and fire beneath my mouth and I can
taste the delicious certainty of your ecstasy.”

Ariane’s eyes widened as Simon’s hands
shifted smoothly, powerfully, and she found herself suddenly with
her legs draped over the crook of his arms, fully opened to
him.

“But not this time,” Simon said.
“This time I must have you.
Now
.”

He drove into her, filling her completely.

Ariane gasped at the sunburst of fiery pleasure
that blazed deep within her. The hard, complete joining was both
overwhelming and exquisite. His name splintered on her lips,
reflection of the ecstasy stitching through her body.

“Aye, my wild nightingale. No matter what
happened in the past, this is the only truth that matters. You burn
for me as no woman ever has.”

Simon began moving fully within Ariane, watching
their joined bodies, his whole being focused in the
elemental union. Cries rippled from her lips, soft
whimpers that spoke of sensuality unleashed, an incandescent truth
that was beyond any shadow of lie.

Pleasure drenched her, infusing the very air with
heat.

“Yes,” Simon said huskily. “Bathe
me in your desire. There is no need to talk of a past rape. No
ravished maid could know the sensuous tricks you do.”

Ariane barely heard the words, and even then they
had no meaning to her. A muscular thrust of Simon’s body had
sent sweet lightning stabbing through her mind, cutting away all
possibility of thought. Her being was racked with pleasure as her
breath unraveled in a rippling cry.

“Aye, nightingale. Sing to me of fire. I
don’t care about the past. I care only about
this
.”

Simon surged against Ariane, rubbing the sleek nub
of her passion between their bodies. He smiled to feel her
response, the shudder and the silken burst of heat. He vowed to
feel it again and yet again, until he finally knew the depths of
her sensuality.

And his own.

Ariane gave up trying to speak, for she no longer
knew her own body. A sweet fire was sweeping through her,
transforming her. She shivered in wild culmination and clung to the
hard warrior who filled her so completely.

The smile Simon gave Ariane was as primitive as the
caress of his teeth against her neck, her breasts, her ears. And
with each careful bite he drove into her again, rocked against her,
fitting himself deeply to her and then deeper still, drinking her
cries as fire blazed through her again.

And still he thrust into her, taking her higher,
going with her, sweat gleaming on their bodies like the fire that
was consuming her, burning her beyond bearing.

Simon bent down, drinking Ariane’s moans even
as his powerful, driving body drew more sweet sounds from her.