Seducing Anne (23 page)

He lifted her ankles and put them up on his shoulders. “I shall go slow tonight since I suspect you are still tender from last night, but in a few days’ time, I will not hold back. You shall have the full force of me, and receive it like a woman desiring to breed.”

Her chest flamed, and it spread up her neck to her chin and ears. “Moore, I . . . Do you intend to keep me as your mistress?”

His eyes went from smoldering black pools of lust to icy slits of dread. “Anne! No! You are not my mistress. Never! I consider you my only love. My wife in the eyes of God.”

“But how can that be?”

“It will be. Let it be. I have told you—I will ensure you are freed from your bonds to Henry, and he will have another.”

She failed to voice her concerns for the kingdom because he was massaging his cock’s head into her watering puss.

“Ssssfffff,” she hissed as it stung a little at first.

“I am sorry, lavender. It cannot be helped much. I did not have time to get soothing ointments for you, but tomorrow I shall. I swear it.” He leaned down, licked the berry juices off her lips, then growled, “Open. Take me inside every orifice you can.”

She moaned, and when she went to grab his shoulders, he pinned her hands above her head like he had done briefly before.

One of her legs slipped off his shoulder, but he paid it no heed.

It was tighter than she could have ever imagined with one leg up and the other down.

He transferred both her wrists into one of his hands and used his other hand to brush, then lightly twist her left nipple.

She turned her head away.

“Watch how I worship you, lady. See how you are my religion.”

“I cannot.”

“You can, and I will see to it you understand exactly what you do to me.” His voice hitched at the end. “Watch my hands.”

She slowly twisted her neck back around, but his hand moved down her ribs and then roamed over to her puss.

“You smell like lavender down here, too. Did you know that? Did you know that is why I rub my nose in it? It smells later of flowers and you, and I can savor that fragrance for hours afterward.” He took a deep inhale through his nostrils—they flared and his eyes went glassy.

“How can that be?”

“You bathe with lavender in your water, do you not?”

“Yes, but I—”

“I can smell it. I am a greater hunter than Harry, and I smell traces of the likes he would never notice.” He grinned, and his head wobbled.

He was pumping inside her with a steady beat now.

The sting was gone.

“You smell of citrus and a light musky masculine odor I find intoxicating,” she admitted, breathless as she voiced it.

He smiled. “Tomorrow, then, we play with both citrus and claret. I will show you intoxicating.” He snapped his jaws at her and angled his hips differently.

He slowed his thrusts down. His eyes burned and then shifted into a soft tender expression. “Say what I mean to you, sweetheart.”

“You are my only love. You are the one that centers in my daily thoughts and prayers. If you ask to be under my skin, it is too late. You are already in my head, heart and in my blood.”

“Would you sacrifice being queen for me?” His eyes twisted into a painful wave of sadness.

“I . . . Yes, sir. It is no sacrifice to be with you.”

“God, I . . . There is so much I must share with you. About where I am from, and how I will ensure we both get there together. Trust me to do this for us.”

“I do.” She kissed him.

He broke away and shook his head. “No—you do not comprehend the danger, possible risk and drastic change this will be for you. But I
will
save you. I
will
do that.”

He was a man possessed, but in that moment, it did not matter, because he was hitting a wondrous spot inside her and she was coming undone, convulsing beneath him.

He pulled out, pushed her leg off his shoulder, gripped the back of her head and barked, “Open—God, you have to!”

She parted her lips, took a deep breath and then he was shooting his seed into her awaiting mouth.

The fact he did not share his seed with hers had her heart dropping, until he said, “Lord—I am helpless. I need you too much.” After a breath, he told her to swallow his creamy seed down.

She did and made sure to let it glide over her tongue completely so she could really taste him thoroughly.

His taste was extraordinary—salty with some tang, but with its own sweetness she did not expect. It was not the flavor that was sweet, but
him
.

He grunted, spurted a few more seeds across her lips and then collapsed onto the bed.

Right away he was massaging her muscles, kissing them and making her entire body glow and hum with the warmth and unmistakable spell of love.

Chapter 11

Over the next seven days, she slept alone in her bed. No claret play or citrus play.

Had Guy cooled toward her?

She had found a note from him under her pillow last night, and there was a necklace with a topaz stone in the center that, when she put it on, rested comfortably at the hollow in her throat.

It was simple but elegant.

Was it from Guy?

It had been on top of her pillow rather than under it with the letter.

Or had the king left it for her?

Guy had said he had attained her topaz ring from Wyatt. Had he dismantled it to turn it into a choker? If so, why had he not left instructions for when he would like her to wear it?

He was specific with everything else.

She always wore her hair down and straight for him and smelled like a constant bower of lavender.

Her fingers roamed down her bodice. She fluffed her skirts, then straightened them.

A perfumed essence of her wafted up to her nostrils.

Good God. Maybe she had put one too many sprigs in her bathing water this morning.

Well, that was all for the best. Maybe it would entice Guy back into her arms.

She missed him. Missed the warmth he provided her in his bed and in her immeasurably gray life.

Harry had been away all week with the divorce proceedings, affording her much time to be at Guy’s secret disposal, yet he did not take advantage of it.

She meandered down to the garden, sat with her Book of Hours and read quietly, but not one whit of it was seeping its way into her mind.

Where was Moore? What was he about?

Had he left court without telling her?

She gasped. Good Lord above—what if he went back to that mysterious land in France he came from?

What if he never came back?

She stood abruptly, and her book fell to the ground.

“Madam, I have word from the king for you,” Harry’s page said, encroaching on her space.

She swiped the letter out of his hands, gave him a stern look and he left.

It was a brief letter saying that things had started out rough but it was going smoother now.

She sighed, but not in relief. He would be back tomorrow.

One more day without worrying about him catching on to her and her unfaithful ways.

Unfaithful to whom?

Guy was her husband before God. They had their own private contract together and had consummated. That was a marriage in their Maker’s eyes.

She fingered her choker and was gathering her book off the ground when Guy passed by, walking with Jane at his side.

Anne stifled the beginnings of a sob when Guy turned his head and stopped moving.

“A minute,” he told Jane and loped over to Anne, then scooped up her book.

“You are with company I see,” she said through her gritted teeth with her heart pounding its way up into her nostrils. Her entire back felt on fire, and her neck tensed.

“I am ensuring our future together. I am teaching her to be what Henry wants, and making him suspicious. He wants whatever he cannot have. So if he is coveting Jane, believing her to be mine, it throws him off the hunt after you and me. He will believe falsely that I desire this brainless woman.”

“By all reports, she is lovely and bright. Is that not what all men seek?”

“I seek you.” He eyed her fingers stroking her jewel at her neck. “You wore it.”

She got choked up when she realized how foolish she had been to think it was from anyone other than him. “It suits you.” He stepped closer and leaned in, whispering, “It is to be your collar if you wish it to be. It will take you with me when I travel back to my home. If you accept me and want those things, wear it always.”

She nodded. It would be understandable for her to have a favorite. She used to wear her necklace with the large B pendant decorated with drop pearls. But how to explain to Harry who it was from and why she wore it constantly?

“I will, my lord.”

“You please me. By God—how you please me so much I want to fuck you right here in front of that blonde lump of a bore.”

“She may learn something.” She giggled and glanced over his shoulder at Jane, watching them.

Well, watching Moore, not Anne.

“Why does that image incite me to dangerous levels of lust? I am spellbound by the thought of it.” She licked across her bottom lip at the inner seam.

“It excites you because it would be me doing the taking, you doing the offering and her seeing what a real woman is made of when a real man is taking what is his God-given right. Christ, I love you. I want to drench you in kisses and my come.”

“Go now before I flush redder than my crimson dress you complimented me on so long ago.”

He sniffed at her hair. “Fuck—you torture me by smelling so delectable. Wear the red dress tonight, but do not expect it to survive my savage hands. You have had time for your tissues to repair—that means I fuck you hard tonight, and you do not get a light petting.”

She swallowed, shifted away and mourned his departure immediately.

It was not until she looked down at her hands carrying only her letter that she realized that brute had taken her Book of Hours.

Oh for the love of holy seraphim. She loved that prayer book. It was her favorite of the three she owned.

She also loved his dynamic presence and hoped he would maybe read some of her favorite, worn passages so they could discuss them tonight, when she was dressed in a holy sinner’s red.

* * *

At Compline that evening, Anne had another of her Book of Hours tucked under her arm.

She prayed for all to make sense.

She prayed for knowledge and faith to trust in Guy and the Lord.

What if she was making a mistake?

But then she had never been so happy and at peace.

The unsettled feeling she got when she thought about living for years on end with Harry’s distemper told her all she needed to know.

She had to go with Guy.

She had to leave her ideals behind along with this life she knew, though it killed her to turn her back on all the improvements in the kingdom she could maybe inspire if she stayed.

She blew out and wished the doubts would fly away with the puff of air.

“There she is,” her brother, George, called out.

She turned to see him being accompanied by none other than the king.

Her heart slowed to a crawl.

He was back.

She wanted to be with Guy tonight—back in his bed.

Her lips curled into some semblance of a smile so the king would feel welcomed by her.

“You surprise me with your early arrival,” she said. She stood and then curtsied as low as she could.

Her body stiffened when he cupped her chin and lifted her to standing.

“I missed this place because this is where you are. Even though we go on procession and remove in three weeks’ time, I will do my utmost to always be where you are.”

These promises sounded more like ominous threats.

To her, they definitely were.

It meant no more time to be at Guy’s disposal.

“You have a new piece?” Harry asked, pointing at her throat.

She swallowed and swayed in place—a little faint when she considered what to say.

“Yes,” she croaked.

“It is a little plain,” he commented, his eyes stuck on it.

“It is to show my loyalty to the people, and that I put them before my own vain desires. I wear jewels only when called upon to do so,” she said, her bravado deflating when he scowled at it.

He pinched it between his left index finger and thumb. “It is well made, I can see that, but it is less than stately.”

“Being dignified is less about apparel and more about inner poise, yes?” She shifted away from him.

He let go of her necklace.

George snickered. “Come now—you have been hiding away in here for hours, praying for the king’s safe return. He is here now. Join us for a later supper in his chambers. He has much to share by the way of news I am certain.”