Lord of the Blade (21 page)

"I see. And what about your father?”

Corbett had thought everyone heard the
gossip about his father, but then again Devon had lived in
seclusion her entire life. Perhaps she really didn’t know.

“My father was once the baron’s captain of
the guard. When my grandfather died, he inherited the title of
Blake Castle. But the king found he’d done something horrible and
in return he was stripped of his title and lands.”

“Oh my! Did he commit murder, or perhaps
treason?” she asked curiously.

“Nay,” Corbett answered. “He married a woman
he loved.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he answered. “My mother was
not a titled woman. To make matters worse, she was the illegitimate
child of the vicar. My father’s action sullied the Blake name. Now
it is up to me to regain our honor. My father made a mistake, but
he never lost his loyalty. He died protecting the baron, even
though he no longer served as one of his knights.”

Devon reached out, and gently lay her hand
atop his. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

"My mother gave birth just days after my
father died. He never even saw his new son and daughter."

"I'm sure they were beautiful."

"I never saw them either." Corbett held back
the emotions that threatened to consume him. "I had just left for
Torquey Castle to be fostered when it happened. After my mother’s
death, they were stolen by the nursemaid. She was taking them
overseas when the ship capsized."

"That is horrible!"

“There is more. I had a sister with whom I
was very close. Wren was only three when she ran from the nursemaid
and hid in the woods. At my request, the baron sent his men out to
search for her, but she was never found.” He fingered the ring on
the chain around his neck. “We each had a ring given to us like
this, upon our births, bestowed by our father.” He showed her the
ring. “Now, all I have to remember them by is an etching on my
sword.”

Devon rubbed her hand atop his. “I am so, so
sorry for you and what you’ve been through. I had no idea.”

Corbett saw the pity in her eyes and it only
made him feel weak. He shook free and got to his feet. "Don't be. I
don't want your pity or anyone else's. I'm a cold, cruel, man
because God has made me that way. I'm alone in this world because
of ill fate and I've learned in order to survive, I need to be
harsh and emotionless."

“That’s not true.” Devon got to her knees on
the bed.

“It is true, Devon. If God wants me to be
ruthless, then so be it.”

“You mean, if you never allow yourself to
love than you’ll never have to be hurt again, don’t you?”

“What could you possibly know of love? Have
you ever lost anyone who meant the world to you?”

“No,” she said, her face turning solemn. “I
guess I can’t say I have.”

“Enough about me,” he told her. “Tell me
about your parents.”

“I never knew my parents,” she said softly,
making him feel heartless right now. “I never knew them and
therefore I’ve never had the chance to love.”

He sat opposite her on the bed, reaching out
and running his fingers through her silken hair. “Who are you,
Devon?” He gently kissed her atop her nose and she lay her head
against his chest.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I don’t
know.”

The sound of bagpipes coming from the
gallery drifted up through the walls. The music was cheery and
festive, and Corbett found himself wondering if Devon had ever
danced. He held out his hand to guide her from the bed.

"May I have this dance, my lady?"

"You are jesting again, aren't you?" she
said as she smiled.

"I assure you, I have never been more
serious in my life."

“But I know not how to dance, my lord. The
monks do not participate in that activity, therefore I am at a
disadvantage.”

“Then I shall teach you.”

Her eyes light up and her mouth turned into
a satisfied smile. He took her hand and led her to the floor.

Learning fast, and with little instruction,
she was soon moving about the floor like she’d danced all her life.
To the sound of the bagpipes in the background, he twirled her
around till she couldn't stand straight. In her flowing auburn hair
he found the orange cast from the fire. Her laughter was like the
breeze of a fresh spring day. She lightened his heart, and for one
night he dropped the wall he’d placed around him, and felt alive
for the first time since he’d lost the ones he loved. Never had he
enjoyed a woman's presence the way he did hers, and never had his
heart been touched by the gentleness of such a pure, white
dove.

He pulled her close to steady her from
falling. As he held her in his arms, he felt as if he never wanted
to let her go.

"I guess the wine has taken control of me,"
she giggled. He held her closely, and could feel her heart beating
against his chest. He kissed her forehead, breathing in her sweet
essence that he would never forget as long as he lived.

"You have taken control of my senses and I
find myself wanting to please you in every way." He raised her chin
and delicately brushed his lips across hers in a whisper of a
promise of the night to come. She responded shyly at first, but
then met his lips in a passionate hunger that belied the fact she
was a virgin.

Corbett found himself needing to feel her delicate
skin. His hands slipped down her back, and up under the white
tunic. Like the petals of a rose her skin melted against his hands,
only making him want to glide them over ever inch of her. Yet, he
wouldn’t take her like this. The wine she’d consumed could very
well be affecting her actions, and he would not have her unless she
wanted him too. He removed his hands from under her clothes and
pulled away from her while he still could.

"Why do you retreat when you should be
forging forward?" Her big green eyes stared up at him and her
innocence shone bright as day.

"You have had much to drink," he responded.
"You are not thinking clearly and I will not take advantage of such
a tempting condition." He turned from her and walked across the
room. She sidled up behind him and slipped her hands around his
waist. Enclosing him in a hug, she lay her head against his back.
Then her fingers slid down the front of his waist, lingering over
his groin.

"You are a modest man to think you are the
only one being tempted."

He turned to face her and put his hands on
her shoulders. "I would not want you to think I was trying to lure
you to my bed."

"What makes you think I would not want to
go?"

"Do not jest with me. You are a virgin, and
I will not take you unless it be your desire."

"You are the one who jests, my lord, not I.
I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. If you
do not take me to your bed this eve, we will both regret it for the
rest of our lives."

"So you would not be offended if I took you
to my bed?"

"Nay, I would not be offended." She slowly
traced the outline of his nipple through his tunic as she spoke.
"But if you didn’t, I would be highly disappointed."

“As would I,” he answered, sweeping her up
into his arms. She laughed and threw back her head as he carried
her to the bed. He pulled back the satin sheets and lay her gently
upon them.

He stepped back slightly to look at her
beauty in the candlelight. She was such a perfect, unsoiled dove,
and he was the luckiest man in the world to have found her. She was
the girl of his dreams and he didn’t know how he’d ever live
without her.

“Hurry, my lord,” she urged him. “My hunger
for you is strong. My desire insatiable.”

Without wasting any more time, he tore his
clothes from his body. Settling next to her upon the bed, he
tenderly yet impatiently removed her oversized tunic and looked
upon the most beautiful satin skin he had ever seen.

Devon giggled, and shyly covered her breasts
with her arms.

"You are truly beautiful."

He slowly brought her arms back to her
sides, and lowered his lips to kiss the soft hollow at the base of
her throat. Her giddiness ceased as he straddled her body and
brought himself to rest over her, placing his weight on his arms.
The throbbing below his waist matched the throbbing of his own
heart.

"This is your first time is it not?" he
asked softly, nibbling her ear and lightly kissing each of her
eyelids.

"You know it is." Her answer came as no
surprise to him but yet he needed to know for certain.

"Then I will please you in ways you never
imagined." He ran his tongue across her chest, and felt her body
quiver beneath his touch.

"I would like that, my lord."

He took her face in his hands, and stared
deep into her emerald green eyes.

"Tonight I am your lover, not your lord. My
name is Corbett. Let me hear you say it."

"Corbett," she whispered, and he closed his
eyes briefly, his own body warming just from his name on her
tongue.

"Since you have had many new tastes
tonight," he whispered, "now 'tis my turn for one." He let his
hands travel to her breasts, and his mouth followed.

"You have tasted that before," she reminded
him through her heavy breathing.

"Aye, so I have. But there is so much more
that I have yet to try."

He quickly lowered his head and circled her
navel with his tongue. And when he was sure she was already
aroused, he slid beneath the sheets and continued. He heard a small
gasp as he lifted her hips higher. The scent of her musk called to
him, the animal in the wild, signaling her readiness to mate. Then
he tasted her bittersweet essence of liquid fire.

The sheets were thrown back to reveal his
secret hiding place. She grabbed at his hair with a newfound erotic
passion, and purred and cooed with pleasure.

He hand readied her now, and her hips took
up a rhythm of their own as she began a new dance. The taste of her
essence lingered on his tongue as he watched her dancing in his
bed, the light of the fire flickering on her closed lids.

She seemed so unlike that brash, defying
servant that never failed to stoke his fury. Without being clothed
in her servant’s attire, it was easy for him to forget she wasn't a
princess, as her hair laid sprawled across the pillows and her body
shimmered with the light that only an angel could possess.

He shifted his weight as he dangled his body
parallel to hers, and found her reaching her arms around him,
pulling him closer, giving a sign that she wanted him too. Pushing
back a stray tendril of silken hair from her face, Corbett hovered
over her once again, breathing in her beauty, trying to hold back
his urges as long as possible.

Somehow, she managed to slip out from under
him and teasingly pushed him onto his back, while taking the place
of aggressor.

"It figures you would like it on top," he
drawled. Right now he really didn't care what position she took, he
only knew he was ready to burst.

"I'd like to try it this way," she
confessed. "I may be inexperienced but my ears have been burning
with the stories I've heard of coupling from the kitchen maids. Not
to mention, I'm not blind. Sleeping in the great hall has taught me
much."

The control he possessed was driving him
from his mind as she settled atop him. But he was determined to
give her as much pleasure as she needed to take. He felt her rub
against his throbbing need, and then ever so slowly, she lowered
herself onto him.

Having a virgin was always a feather in a
man's cap, but having a virgin who dared the tricks of an
experienced woman was more than a man could dream. The heat struck
with his burning desire, a thirsting which seemed to never be
quenched. He felt her muscles tense briefly as she suddenly
stopped. His heart jumped to think she might actually change her
mind. He grabbed her hips, not allowing them to retreat.

"'Twill be pleasurable, I assure you. If you
give it a chance. I hear it only hurts the first time."

"It hurts not," she assured him. "'Tis just
a new experience and I want to be sure to do it correctly."

He rubbed his hands up and down her back,
waiting, not forcing. "There is no wrong way to do it, Devon.
You're doing just fine."

For once, he thought, she must have trusted
his words, for she lowered herself freely to take in all of him.
And then to his pleasure she rode him, like she was riding a
stallion through the waves washing upon the shore. In and out with
the tide, she danced with the shadows that flickered on the walls.
She whimpered, close to release. Her tightness was pure ecstasy, as
well as her cries of newfound passion.

And then, she rode him to the tops of the
cliffs. Climbing, reaching, she found her peak not once, but thrice
before she subsided. As she cried his name in elation he knew it
was time to unleash the beast inside himself.

He quickly rolled her over, never breaking
their connection. His struggle was over, his straining to be free.
He thrust into her deeply, and buried himself to the hilt in her
heat. And then, as he allowed his wall of security to shatter, his
release came forth and with a loud roar, he cut loose the
beast.

Fires burning within each of them, they
tried desperately to regain their breath. Bodies melded as one.
Corbett rolled her atop so he wouldn’t crush her with his weight,
and they continued to embrace each other. The pace of his heart
finally steadied, and he held her close to him, never wanting to
let go. It felt so right to have her in his arms. He felt an
emotion tonight he’d locked away for a very, very, long time. She
was his angel, and he wanted to be her protector. She was no doubt
the woman he’d been waiting for his entire life.

They both lie motionless in each others arms
as the shadows danced on the walls from the shortened candle. Then,
after several moments without a word from her, he realized she
slept. He lay her gently next to him, and brought the blanket up
around them both. Tonight she wouldn't sleep on the floor at his
feet. Tonight she would sleep in his arms like a princess.