Knight Errant (25 page)

Sensation rippled from her head to her toes and back. “Oh my,” she breathed, suddenly very hot. “That feels very good.”

“Aye,” he crooned and kissed along her neck to her nape. He scraped his teeth over that sensitive node and let his tongue soothe the abrasions.

With each gentle bite, Juliana felt a tug within her breasts and lower. She squirmed and arched.

He lifted his head, his green eyes alight, his lips turned up. “Is something wrong?”

“Robert, I do love this samite gown that you have gifted me.” His fingers traced her skin along the scooped neckline. Delightful shivers spread through her. “When I put it on I thought it the smoothest, most finely wrought cloth I had ever seen.”

“And this is a problem?”

“No, but somehow this gown has become too tight. And it scratches my skin, as if I wore rough linen.”

His eyes darkened, and his mouth formed a straight line. “I want your comfort over all things this night. Why do you not remove the gown, if it pains you?”

Juliana felt a flush creep over her cheeks. “I would not want you to think I do not like your gift.”

Robert stared at her, then threw back his head and laughed.

An urgent longing to lick and kiss the strong column of his throat possessed her. Before she could act, he straightened and stroked a finger across her cheek. “I suspect that liking my gift or not is not your true concern.”

“Nay, it is not.” She toyed with the laces of her bodice, unable to look him in the face. “’Twould not be seemly for me to sit with you in only my shift.”

He grasped her chin and compelled her to gaze at him. “We are husband and wife, Juliana. This night ’tis seemly for you to lie naked with me in bed. Sitting in a shift is a small matter.”

He spoke only of this one night. Did he still hope to have the marriage put aside? How could that be possible? Her thoughts were too clouded with wine. She would ask him on the morrow. For now, she placed her hands on his shoulders. Heat seeped into her fingers from his body. She wanted to clutch, taste, and savor. Mindful of the issue at hand, she pushed away from him. “My aunt always wore a night robe. My uncle insisted. He said women were ugly and should cover the signs of their sinful nature.”

Robert’s hands trembled. Wary of her bruises, he grasped her arms gently and eased her back against his chest. He tunneled one hand into her hair, loosening the pins and snood that held it in place. He turned her to look at him once more. “I am not your uncle, Juliana. I find you the most beautiful of women, and I am truly humbled by your goodness. ’Twill please me greatly if you allow me to gaze on your unadorned beauty.”

His eyes held a sea-deep question. She laid her fingers on his lips. “If you wish it.”

“I do,” he said beneath her touch.

“Perhaps someday I might be allowed to look on your beauty?” She moved her gaze past his ear, unable to believe her own daring or what she had asked of him.

She felt him smile.

“Juliana.”

She forced her gaze back to his face.

“Would you like to look on me now?”

She nodded. “I have never looked on a naked man.”

“Surely you saw men when you cared for the sick.”

“Aye, but,” she shook her head, “I did not
‘look’
at their bodies. I saw only the wounds or signs of sickness. You are most definitely not sick.”

“Then, Milady Ravensmere, I ask you to assist me to disrobe.” He rose with her in his arms and strode to the bed, setting her carefully on the edge. Next he stood before her, waiting.

She ran her eyes over him, hungry for the feel of him. She extended her hand but did not touch. Like the hummingbirds in the gardens of Palermo, her fingers hovered, first at the laces of his shirt, then above his belt, next at his sleeve. “I do not know where to start.”

He grasped her darting hand and put it to rest over his heart, beside the laces of his shirt. “Here.”

She looked into his eyes where something dark, dangerous, and exceedingly desirable smoldered. His pulse beat fast and strong beneath her palm.

“Start here.” He moved her fingers into the lacing. “For if you do not start soon, I will surely die of longing.”

And so she began, plucking at strings and laces, prying at his belt, rolling, shifting, and lifting. He helped, removing his own boots and raising his arms to aid removal of his shirt. He stilled as she lowered his breeches then reached for his breechclout.

She held her breath when she finally pulled the linen from him, not knowing what to expect.

“Well?” Robert’s question fell into the silence.

“It’s so ... so ... um, dark and red.”

He chuckled, and it shook. “That is twice now that you have lied about your concerns.” He picked up a coil of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Never lie to me, Juliana, for I will do all in my power to be worthy of your trust.”

She stared up at him. “I believe you, but I do not lie. That part of you is quite ruddy.”

“I doubt the color of my cock is what concerns you most about it.”

“Is that what you call it, a cock?”

“’Tis one name for it.”

“’Tis red like a cock’s comb.”

“And you, Juliana, are trying to avoid the subject of its size.”

She leaned back, eyeing the thick, veined object with some apprehension. “It seems perfectly proportioned to you...”

“And?”

“And you are a very large man.”

“And you are not a large woman.”

Her mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed. “Aye. Will you fit?”

“Yes, sweet, I will fit.” He knelt, bringing his intent gaze to her level.

“How?”

“Let me show you.” He reached for the laces of her gown.

’Twas a delight for Juliana to have Robert undress her. He refused to let her stand, but gave her freedom to lean and lift against his body as he peeled the clothing from her. She reveled in the chance to touch his skin, to feel the swell and ripple of his muscles as he moved. She liked touching him very much. So much, in fact, that she failed to notice when her clothing finally disappeared and Robert began exploring her as she did him.

He tickled the back of her knee on her good leg. She gave a surprised yelp as her leg buckled in reaction and she tumbled backward on the bed, pulling Robert with her. Rather than suffocating her, his weight felt comforting and right. Her arms circled his neck. Her fingers toyed with the curls at his nape.

He kissed the slope of her breast, then lower and lower again until his mouth covered her nipple. She felt the sharp tug of his suckling and an answering ache deep within her belly. Her hips arched. She pulled on his hair where her fingers played.

Robert lifted his head and looked a question at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you not like my mouth on you?”

“Aye, I do. But it makes me ache.”

“Good. ’Tis passion, Juliana, and the greater the passion, the greater the pleasure.”

“You mean to make me ache more?”

“I pray we may both be so blessed.”

“I make you ache as well?”

“In the best way possible.”

“And where will all this aching lead?”

He kissed her cheek. “To heaven,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He rolled from her body and took her hand. “Touch me, I beg you.” He placed her palm on his phallus.

Instinctively she curled her fingers round him and pulled.

He groaned.

She let go.

“Nay.” His hand shot out, capturing hers and restoring her grip. Showing her how to caress him. “Do not stop.”

“But...”

He kissed her and rolled onto his side, placing himself between her and the rest of the room. His tongue probed her lips, and she opened. He licked inside, tasting and teasing until her tongue stroked his. She felt as if she were falling, though the bed and his arms supported her. She clutched his shoulders. He leaned over, pressing her into the mattress.

The bed curtains rattled. Juliana stiffened. Robert replaced his lips with his hand.

“Shhh, sweeting. Say nothing and allow me to take care of this.”

She nodded.

“Has the bitch led you to perversion already, Sir Robert?” Basti hissed the question. Muffled movement beyond the bed indicated that all of the witnesses had returned. Robert twisted his shoulders, shielding her with his body.

“The only perversion here is your eagerness to see innocent blood spilled. Now close those curtains and do not disturb us again before morning, else you will find ’tis your own blood that I spill to bring you satisfaction.”

The curtains snapped shut.

“They will see us,” she whispered.

“Shadows only, and if you stay where I put you, they will see nothing but my back.” He spoke for her ears alone.

“Oh.”

“Now, do you recall where I placed your hands earlier?”

“Aye.”

“Then please you put them there again.”

She felt for him, and found his cock. “It is not as stiff as ... Oh my.”

“Oh my, indeed, wife.” He spread kisses across her face.

She felt him chuckle.

“Did my touch cause that?” she asked.

“’Tis the usual effect of a woman on a man.”

“Your body would respond so to any woman?”

“We will have this discussion another time.”

“But...”

He took advantage of her open mouth and kissed her in that way that made her feel like she was falling. His hands stroked her breasts. Her hips twitched. She could not get enough of the feelings he created. His hands traveled lower, touching, stroking, and probing. She wanted ...she knew not what.

But Robert knew. His mouth followed, lingering at her breasts, teasing the nipples to taut aching peaks, while his fingers performed a magical dance. Somehow he pulled all her passion and longing from her, twining it ’round them both until she no longer knew where he stopped and she began.

At the intrusion of one finger, her inner muscles melted. Her insides matched the slow steady rhythm of his caresses, clenching and releasing with each clever stroke. She became completely fluid under his touch. Her legs spread of their own accord.

She followed him willingly, eager to go where he led.

He rose above her, caressing her thighs and making her moan. He settled between her legs. Then he touched her center. Pleasure shuddered through her.

“Aye, Juliana, give me your passion, your liquid fire.”

His hand left her, and his damp finger traced her lips. The scent of her own arousal filled her nostrils. His tongue trailed in his finger’s wake, lapping at the moisture.

Then she was kissing him, tasting the heady mixture of their flavors. His hands lifted her hips, and he slipped a small way inside her. She stilled at his penetration, testing how it felt to be joined with him. He paused, waiting for her. She felt strain shiver along the length of him.

“More,” she whispered against his lips. She plunged her tongue into his mouth as he thrust deep within her body and stilled again.

His mouth muffled her cry at the sharp pain that came and left in that one quick moment. When she quieted, he lifted his lips from hers. She panted, trying to suppress the urge to move around him.

“I am sorry for your pain, Juliana.”

“’Tis gone now,” she said between pants. “This pressure and the ache you say is passion, they are unbearable. May we continue?”

Robert placed his mouth against hers and smiled. “As you wish, wife.” He began a slow rhythm that made Juliana grind her teeth.

“Husband,” she whispered. “This cannot be right.”

“I assure you it is.”

“The pressure increases.”

“Ah, let me try this.” He caught her nipple between his lips and sucked. A fierce tugging pierced her breast. She cried out. A moment’s relief spun through her, followed by still greater pressure. Robert moved within her at the same slow rate.

She fisted her hands in his hair, lifting his face to hers. “’Tis unbearable now. Do something!”

“Yes, milady.” He kissed his way to her other breast, still stroking her insides with that agonizing slowness. He plucked at one turgid peak and lapped at the other. Juliana gasped and thrust her hips against him. Robert sucked and pinched lightly at the same time. She screamed, clutching at his shoulders, certain that, if the pressure increased much more, she would fly apart. Of a sudden his strokes began to quicken. Her hips writhed, seeking to relieve the intense ache. “Please,” she begged. “I can stand this no longer.”

Robert lifted himself on his arms. The rhythmic thrusts continued, faster now. “Look at me, Juliana.” She could barely make out his face in the dim light. He reached between their bodies, and she burst into a thousand pieces. A keening cry left a mouth she could no longer feel. Still she felt his body ram into hers once, twice more. Somehow she heard a deep, masculine shout. His arms gathered her splintering pieces, and she floated together with him in a haze of pleasure.

Some time later, she became aware Robert had shifted their positions so that she did not bear his weight. She lay on her side, one arm above her head, the other resting on his shoulder. One of Robert’s arms was flung over her hip, his hand warm on her thigh. Her leg was drawn up atop his hip, and he pulsed hard and strong within her.

How long had they lain thus? Had he left and re-entered her without her knowing? Had he stayed all this time? Would she conceive? Bear Robert’s child?

The idea was more pleasant than she expected. Her hand drifted down to her belly and encountered his hand, rubbing gentle circles above her womb.

She turned her head and lifted her gaze to find him watching her.

“You are a brave and courageous woman, Lady Juliana Ravensmere, and much better than I deserve.”

She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant.

He laid a finger against her lips. “No questions. Now go to sleep, you are tired.”

She found she was tired and decided not to argue. “You have much to answer for, Sir Robert.” She relaxed against him and fell instantly asleep.

Robert lay awake for a long time, after he finally grew flaccid enough to leave her body, after the witnesses shuffled from the room, after the candles guttered and the dawn light filtered through the window shutters. Juliana was right. He did have much to answer for. He could only pray that when the time came, he would not have hurt her too much.