Heart's War (Heart and Soul) (19 page)

His free hand cupped her other breast
, repeating the same movements his fingers had done before. Rose was certain she would fly apart if he didn’t stop. His shaft stroked against her folds again, hinting at what he really wanted. She wanted him too, but . . .

He moved to her other breast
, but this time he did not toy with her, but drew on her powerfully. A gasp of pure pleasure escaped her and only caused him to intensify his actions. Her entire body started to tremble. A knot of energy formed deep within her.

Both of his hands grip
ped her hips and he moved again, trailing a path of kisses down her stomach and even lower, his hair trailing over her skin in his wake. Before she could blink her vision clear, his mouth closed upon her most sensitive place. As he had done before with his kiss, his tongue slid slowly but powerfully over her folds. The breath evaded her lungs and she could not move. His tongue continued its slow journey, but she felt as if he had a specific goal in mind and sought it out.

She knew the moment he found it.
That agonizingly slow but powerful movement over her hard nub sent a riot of pleasure exploding through her body. In that instant ,she moaned his name and everything opened to him. His tongue tortured and teased her, it excited and provoked. Her fingers clutched at the bedding and her body bowed, but his hands would not let her escape him and he pursued her with an even greater intensity. What he did to her only drove the energy building within her to greater power.

Her heart raced
, but her ragged breathing would only come in time with his movement. She suddenly felt as if she stood on the edge of a precipice, and something as innocuous as a movement from him would shove her over the edge. With a gentle flick of his tongue, he showed her that was indeed true. The energy building within her lunged outward and became a pleasure so intense that she cried his name, unable to move, her muscles clenching violently. At the same moment, Brynmor lifted his head, his body moved over hers, and he thrust himself inside her.

The pain almost chased away the pleasure
, and tears formed in her eyes. Brynmor buried himself but otherwise did not move. He covered her with his body and lowered his head, murmuring soft reassurances in her ear. Carefully, his fingers once again found the hard nub between her legs and he pressed against it. With a gentle touch, he renewed the tempest he had started. The pain was still there, but she barely felt it amid the riot of sensations she had never known before. She did not understand his words, only that he approved of her reaction and encouraged it even more powerfully. He retreated slightly only to thrust inside her again, just as he had done with her mouth.

Everything crumbled within her. Pain vanished
, leaving only pleasure in its wake. She cried his name as she clung to him. Waves of ecstasy rolled through her only to rebound and intensify. The world around her dissolved into nothingness except for the man who so wonderfully made love to her. She felt his body relax and he moved with more freedom.  “Aye, my sweet Rose,” he murmured into her ear. “Find yourself and know my heart.”

****

Rose collapsed into his arms as she came down from her heights. Brynmor willingly gave her a soft place to fall. Her head on his chest, she heard his heart pounding just as hard as hers. His strong arms enveloped her and held her tightly. His hand stroked her hair.

He turned without warning, so she was on her back and he once again hovering over her.

“I love hearing you cry my name in sweet abandon, Rose,” he murmured in her ear. He propped himself on his elbow and gazed down at her as aftershocks continued to leap through her body. Slowly, his free hand caressed her, cupping her breasts, his fingers fondling her nipples. Then he moved lower, touching her curls and dipping his fingers into the slick heat he had left behind. But he did not stop there. Once again his fingers moved with a purpose, finding the secret place between her legs. He stroked and fondled it, awakening her to a new pleasure.

She gasped as her body opened to him
.

“Aye my sweet, I am not finished with you yet.” He leaned closer and nuzzled her ear, his teeth lightly nipping her lobe. His fingers moved with a stronger purpose.

“I love being the only man who has ever touched you.”

She moaned as the pleasure he created grew in strength, reaching for the core of her.

“I love being the only man who can do this to you, who can bring you to such intense pleasure.”

His movement stopped. “I love the feel of you under my hand,
the feel of this.” His fingers pressed hard on her aching nub and the fire within her lunged violently.

Her entire body recoiled
, but her legs opened even more and her hips lifted against his hand.

“I love the softness of your skin
and how your body reacts so powerfully when I touch you.” His fingers returned to stroking her, feeding the tempest, provoking it into a frenzy.

The energy within her grew and danced outward
, but there was more that she could not find. “Brynmor,” she moaned, her fingers clutching at the bedding.

“Aye, my sweet, I love
it when my name is the only thing you can utter.” He stroked her harder, his touch growing more demanding.

Once again the world shattered around her. She cried his name and bucked under his hand but Brynmor did not stop, he seemed determined to
continue until her body was completely finished. As the storm seizing her quieted, so his did his touch, from gentle to a soft but erotic caress.

“And most of all,
” he murmured, kissing her neck and throat. “I love watching you as I bring you to your pleasure.”

July 1282

Although things had calmed drastically since their marriage a month ago, Rose noted different men would enter the gates several times a day, meet with Petran and sometimes Brynmor, wolf down a meal, grab a few hours of sleep, and be off again. She noticed them because the majority were similar in age and build—young, lean, and whipcord thin. They rarely wore armor, or if they did, it was a light, padded leather jerkin. Scouts, she surmised.

One young man that Rose had now seen several times enter
ed the keep just as they broke their fast. “My lord,” he called, sprinting straight for Brynmor.

Brynmor was on hi
s feet in an instant. “Aye, Delwyn?”

“I bring word
: Owain ap Gwynwynwyn, was sighted at dawn leading troops into our lands southwest. He is not far from Earl Mortimer’s troops. We’ve witnessed a few raids on his camp.”

Brynmor arched an eyebrow. “
Petran!” he barked.

“Aye, my lord?” the steward asked as he approached.

“Have we heard anything from the earl?”

“Nay, my lord.”

“We will,” the young man said. “I spotted a herald bearing his livery headed this direction.”

“How many men?”

“Owain has his army camped at our borders, but his raiders range from ten to fifteen men, sometimes on horseback but most often on foot.”

Brynmor nodded. “Well done, lad, get some food.”

“Aye, my lord,” he said bowing before he darted off.

“
Petran, have the men ready themselves. I have a feeling Mortimer will need help with these raids.”

Rose swallowed hard and looked up at him.

Brynmor returned to his chair, a smile playing on his lips. “I know what you are thinking.”

She felt her worry ease. “Do you now?”

“Aye, and worry not. Owain is leading raids against Mortimer. I have a feeling the earl is going to ask me to stop them. I shall only be too glad to do so.”

“But you said yourself you do not wish to weaken the castle’s defense by leaving with troops.”

He shook his head, his smile growing. “I will only take my raiders. We will not be far and we will return within the day.” He leaned closer. “Besides, I still owe the sod.”

****

Brynmor rode not his destrier but his best courser. His armor was much lighter than normal, leather with small steel plates sewn onto it. Even his chain mail was lighter, and he carried a horseman’s hammer, his sword in its scabbard. The men he had handpicked to accompany him rode and dressed similarly. The sun quickly descended in the west, but Brynmor reached a small rise where he could view the area clearly. In the distance he saw the smoke from the campfires of Mortimer’s army, but that wasn’t his focus. It was a smaller group that he searched for. He grinned when he found it and looked at his second in command and lord of one of his largest fiefs, Alec of Rhayader.

“
What say you?”

Alec nodded, a ghost of a smile
playing at his lips. “The terrain favors our mounts.”

“Aye. No doubt Owain has been raiding on foot to take as many spoils as they can grab.”

“My lord, if you look to the left, the land would work in our favor to sweep around and attack the group from behind. The small copse of trees between us will block their sight and the noise from our horses.”

“Excellent suggestion,” Brynmor replied and looked to the western sky. The sun had disappeared
, but a bright glow remained. “As soon as it is fully dark, we will ride.”

The night
had enveloped the land when Brynmor’s raiders crashed down into the small camp. Owain’s group had not lit a fire because of the proximity to their enemy, but the moon was bright enough that Brynmor and their mounts could see quite well. Owain’s men cried out in fear as the horses leapt over supplies and bedrolls.

Brynmor swung his axe to the right, striking the head of one of Owain’s men, kill
ing him instantly. He arced the weapon around and over to his left, smashing it into the shoulder of another man. He continued the smooth, unbroken motion with the weapon as his horse galloped forward, and by the time he reached the other edge of the camp, he had felled six men.

Brynmor’s raiders flanked hi
m, their various weapons dropping men with each blow. They did not stop, they never broke pace, but continued through the camp, leaving only death in their wake. Brynmor allowed himself to slow his horse and look back as his men galloped away from the camp. He saw Owain emerge from a tent, staring around him in shock. He tried to rally his men but over half were dead. He looked up and his gaze locked on Brynmor.

Brynmor grinned, then turned his horse and spurred after the others, disappearing into the night.
They would do no more this night. That was the entire strategy: hit hard, hit fast, and vanish.  He and his men turned for home, their spirits high with their success.

“Now that was fine fun!” Alec barked. “Will we be doing this again tomorrow?”

“Aye,” Brynmor replied, “as soon as our scouts report Owain’s position. But we need to be cautious. Owain will not be so easy to surprise after tonight.”

****

Rose loitered in the hall well after dark, trying not to worry. Brynmor’s voice resounded in her thoughts.

Worry not, little one,
’tis only a raid. The danger will be minimal.

He was right, she knew. The Welsh had raided against Montgomery before and she knew the strategy. Unfortunately, even that knowledge didn’t ease her nerves. She finally decided to go upstairs to the solar
, even though she knew it would be impossible for her to get any sleep until Brynmor came home, until she knew he was safe.

She
prepared for bed, wearing only her shift, and left a single candle burning. She crawled into bed, but everything within her listened for the cry of the sentry announcing Brynmor’s return. Because the gates were barred for the night, they would enter through the sally.

She curled under the blankets
, staring at the empty spot next to her. She closed her eyes and forced herself to turn away. Mother Mary have mercy, she was acting like a fool. Brynmor was a fine knight and an experienced warrior. She should not be worrying herself so.

Rose told herself to close her eyes and get some sleep.

The sentry’s call sent her flying out of bed and to the loophole. Her gaze focused on the sally as the guards unbarred it and a group of men rode through. Her gaze landed immediately on Brynmor’s distinctive form. He rode in the lead and easily dismounted, moving with the grace and bearing she had come to know. She sighed in relief. No injuries, no harm to anyone, not even their mounts.

Brynmor tossed his reins to a page
, then clouted his men on the back or shoulder as they too dismounted. She could not hear his words, but she did not doubt that he praised them for a job well done. He then turned for the stairs to the keep and rapidly ascended. Rose sighed softly, the worry that had coiled through her so terribly fading. She wouldn’t be surprised if he remained in the hall for a time celebrating with his men. At least she could sleep now that he was home safe. She returned to bed, curling under the covers. Her eyes had just started to grow heavy when she heard the door open. She lifted her head, blinking in surprise.

Brynmor entered slowly, looking in
the direction of the bed, as if trying to not wake her.

She
smiled. “I’m awake, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He laughed softly, closing the door behind him and locking the bolt. He stepped toward the light of the candle and Rose stared at him.
He had removed his armor downstairs and he carried his tunic and belt in his hand, wearing only his boots and braies. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze stopped on his massive chest, but then she realized his muscles were bunched tighter than normal, standing out sharply under his skin—even the veins on his arms seemed sharper and his breath came faster than normal.

“Bryn, are you all right?” she asked as she sat up.

“Aye,” he replied and tossed his tunic and belt into a chair. “Why?”

She looked at his eyes, rich with color and passion. Something about his gaze made her heart race. In that moment he was absolutely feral, the thrill of the fight had roused something far more instinctive within him. He looked at her a long moment
, as if wondering why she didn’t answer his question.

She rose from the bed and moved into his embrace. “I take it things went well.”

“Aye,” he said, his lips lifting as he gazed down at her. His hand reached up and stroked through her hair then descended to her cheek where he lightly traced his fingertips down to her jaw. Although his body was wound tightly, the expression on his face was one of the most relaxed she had ever seen from him. In that moment, worry and doubt had been banished from his heart, and Rose loved seeing it.

Brynmor
lowered his head and captured her mouth, pulling her tightly to him.

****

Brynmor battled to slow his pulse but the raid had made his blood boil and try as he might his body would not relax. Now he held Rose in his arms, kissing her deeply, and his lust only wound him even tighter.

He knew he should back away. He should stop this before he lost all control, but Rose’s tiny moan undid him completely
. He growled her name, reaching for the laces that secured her shift and quickly rid her of it. Brynmor backed her not toward the bed but toward the table. Rose’s fingers caressed his chest, her touch robbing him of sane thought. Pure desire pounded through his veins. His lips slid from her mouth and down her throat. Her head tilted backward and his lips caressed her soft skin, feeling her pulse pounding vibrantly beneath it.

Feeling her so wonderfully pliant in his arms awakened a need within him he never realized he possessed. He lowered his head and drew her breast into his mouth, savoring the sweet taste of her soft skin.

Rose gasped, her fingers threading through his hair, holding his head in place as he suckled her. Finally, one hand moved from his hair to caress his chest again, slowly moving lower to his stomach. Everything clenched within him and for an instant he froze, groaning as she stroked his hardened shaft through his clothing.

Encouraged by his reaction, h
er movement strengthened. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation as she touched him.

Her hand slowly slid inside his clothing and her fingers encircled him.

The world exploded in color and he sucked in his breath, fearing he would spill his seed in that moment. He backed away and freed himself from his clothing. Coherent thought faded and he did not truly realize what he was doing as and turned Rose in his arms and bent her over the table.

“Bryn?” she gasped softly

He did not hesitate but pushed deep within her. For an instant he stopped, simply savoring the sensation of being buried so deeply within her.

Rose moaned.

He trapped her hips with his hands and pushed again, his entire body shuddering. God, she felt so good.

“Brynmor,” she moaned.

“Do ye wish me to stop?” he growled, although he wasn’t certain if he could.

“Nay.” Suddenly she bucked against him.

Brynmor lost himself to the primitive pulse thudding between his temples and in the deepest part of his body. Seeing Rose bent before him, feeling himself buried so deeply inside her, hearing her murmur his name, provoked him like nothing before. He moved slowly, thrusting deeply, pushing hard before withdrawing. He felt her body coiling tighter as she moved with him, her hips rising to meet each thrust, her voice encouraging him. His rhythm increased and he knew she was so very close, he felt the tremors begin deep within her at the same moment her movements grew more urgent.

He waited as long as he dared
; as she tightened around him and her bucking grew more frantic, he gripped her hips and thrust hard, but this time did not retreat. She cried out as her body writhed against him, he felt the pleasure shuddering through her, and she lost herself to it.

“Aye, my sweet Rose,” he whispered and
thrust again, and it was only moments later when he found his own release and followed her over the edge.