A Lord for Haughmond (23 page)

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Authors: K. C. Helms

BOOK: A Lord for Haughmond
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     Katherine’s cheek brushed against his bare chest as she shook her head.

     His mouth went dry.

     “Will you?”

     “Will I what?” Once again his voice sounded harsh. Silently he chided himself. ’Twas not what he intended, but these fearsome emotions consuming him were, thereto, not planned apurpose.

     His instinct had been to protect Katherine, to fend off menacing perils. But while he had done, she had learned to trust him.

     He wasn’t free to love her. Other plans were in place the day he had stumbled upon Sir Robert’s daughters. This journey had been plotted with great care. Geoffrey de Borne was to pay the price for his wrongdoing. Naught must hinder his goal. 

     Not even Katherine, whom he loved beyond reason. He had protected her from others but not from himself. 

     He had grown accustomed to her manner, her quick wit, her dark sparkling eyes when she found something humorous. He admired her pluck and her strength. Never had he known a woman like her. And no matter the means he had sought to turn her affections from him, her certainty in him was steadfast. The captain of the castle guard should be so fortunate as to garner such faithful devotion from his troops.

     If only he could trust her.

     Therein lay the rub. She would not intentionally spill his secret. But ’twas inevitable when her face reflected her emotions and she spoke without thought. He’d lose the element of a surprise attack. To be sure, consequences would follow. Geoffrey de Borne possessed a vindictive nature.

     ’Twas not to be chanced. Naught must befall his mother. His promise to safeguard her, no matter the danger to himself, must be kept at all costs.       

     Gladly would he have dispatched Sir Geoffrey to his maker that day in the castle storeroom, had it not been needful to protect Katherine from King Edward’s suspicions. With Haughmond in dispute, ’twould be easy for her to be blamed. She must not be tainted by the slaying.

     ’Twas meet that Geoffrey de Borne had lost Haughmond. And erelong, justice would be served at the end of his sword.  

     Only then could he deal with Katherine.

     This intimacy she demanded would send him over the edge. How could he leave her afterwards? He loved her too dearly for a compromise of that magnitude. She must learn to depend upon her husband, and him alone. 

     Katherine turned her head and looked up at him. “Will you instruct me?”

     Her pleading whisper wrenched his heart, stole his breath from him.

     He backed away from her hold. “Dear heart, there’s naught else I desire, but— ”

     With a gladsome cry, Katherine came at him in a rush and threw her arms about his neck. Lifting her face, she pressed her lips to his. 

     The battle was lost. He caught her, lifting her off the ground, holding her as though she’d disappear. A moment later she was lying on his mattress and he was leaning over her, kissing her mouth, her eyelids, her neck. He was sure he’d drown in the delight of the emotions pitching through him. Katherine’s lips, meeting his own with an intensity he hadn’t expected, robbed him of his very soul.

     Slathering kisses upon her, his hands roved across the contours of her body, spurred on by her gasps and murmurs and her hands clutching desperately at his face. Her lips searched for his in the flickering light. Gladly he claimed them once more.

     Rising onto his knees, he straddled her hips. In the next instant Katherine’s gown disappeared over her head and she lay naked to his eyes.

     “Sweet Winifred!” she exclaimed, shock infusing her voice. She covered herself, one hand clutching her breasts, the other covering the apex of her legs.

     “Nay, Dearest, ’tis necessary if you are to lose your blasted virginity.”

     Rhys tugged her resisting arm from her breasts. A deep flush bathed her cheeks at his thorough examination. Her arm returned to shield herself. Smiling, he entwined his fingers with hers. Lifting her hand away, he pressed his lips to her fingers.      

     “Nay, Sweetling, you are most beautiful, as nature endowed you. Let me find delight in you.” Removing her other hand from betwixt her legs, it too, was drawn to his lips. “Let me behold your beauty,” he said, his eyes roaming her length.

     Her breasts, soft and round and ruby tipped, beaconed to him. Her waist, trim and lithe, begged for his attention, his touch.

     Katherine started as his hand slid across her belly and captured a soft, beckoning breast.

     “With practice, I misdoubt me you’ll soon find my touch more agreeable. I promise to be gentle, Sweetling,” he murmured, giving her an encouraging smile.

     Katherine’s eyes, so large and dark in the flickering light, stared up at him. ’Twas more of confusion than fear. Once again she was an artist’s fancy, with her emotions painted on her face. 

     Her eyelids fluttered. “Shall we be finished erelong?” she stammered breathlessly.

     Rhys sucked in his breath. “Nay, Dearling, ’tis not uncommon for such to occupy most of the night.”

     “Oh,” she panted, her eyes growing rounder. Her hips shifted beneath him. “’Twill be difficult to endure."

      Her words sent a thrill of desire coursing through him, kindled his need, and had his body throbbing. “But, my lady, let me assure you that you will endure it very well.”

     She should be in as much torment! Stroking her nipple with his thumb, he drew it into a taut peak and was rewarded when Katherine moaned beneath him. Seizing her other breast, he thumbed its peak. Through hooded lids, he watched her head twist from side to side, heard her breathy moan. Her movements beneath him sent his own needs leaping through him like wild fire. Leaning down, he laved her breast with his tongue—leisurely, thoroughly—savoring the taste of her flesh, inhaling the lavender rising from her flushed skin. Setting his attention on her nipple—the pouting, tight rosebud—he licked gently. Taking it into his mouth, he suckled with the might of a newborn babe.

     “Sweet Jesu,” she groaned, grasping his head, digging her fingernails into the back of his scalp.

     “Did I hurt you?” He drew back in concern.

     “Nay.” Katherine looked up at him, her eyes full of wonder. “I never realized losing my virginity would be so—so extraordinary!”

     Jolted by her tantalizing words, a wildfire of arousal burst within him. So many emotions washed over him—abiding love, the need to protect this most precious of creatures, fear of what would befall them on the morrow, helplessness in halting the storm building within him.   

     “We’ve only begun, Sweetling. Can you endure it?”

     “’Tis uncertain. Oh—’tis so difficult to breathe!”

     He swelled hard and fast from the sweet torment of her words. Trembling with raw need, unable to withstand more, he reared up on his knees. He focused on her face as he undid his loincloth.

     Katherine’s gaze moved downward. He flung aside the flimsy cloth. She gaped at his unrestrained and throbbing manhood with such fervor that his body swelled all the more. God’s mercy, he could barely contain himself. How was he to instruct a virgin and fight this fearsome urge? 

     Lowering himself to her, Rhys supported his weight with his elbows. His hands played with her ear, her hair, brushed across her cheek, anything to give Katherine time to accustom herself to the feel of his rigid body against hers.

     Anything that would help him to restrain himself. ’Twas pure agony, the wait. He ached outrageously from the want of her. Never had he deflowered a virgin and he sought to soothe her fears. The women of his acquaintance had taken the matter into their own hands. Literally. He swelled all the more at his unintended witticism and the scintillating memory of urgent fingers ministering to his manhood. In his imagination, her hands became those hands and awarded him the same dazzling attention. Out of necessity, he shifted his hips, delighting in the exquisite silken skin of Katherine’s inner thigh. 

     Drawing her face to his, Rhys kissed her, hoping ’twas leisurely and reassuring. His hand moved along Katherine’s shoulder, crossed the hollow at the base of her neck and paused at her breasts to make a meticulous examination of those rosy hued peaks.

     His lips trailed hot kisses along her neck and then reclaimed her lips. This time Katherine didn’t flinch, but returned his kiss with a growing eagerness.

     His hand, roving lower, encompassed a small buttock. He shifted his weight and clasped the other, pressing her thighs up against his own. His lips trailed hot kisses along her neck.

     Katherine moaned and clung to him.

     He captured her lips. Holding them with his own, he pressed her into the mattress and slid a leg betwixt her thighs, then settled upon her, hoping she could accommodate his weight.

     “You needs move with me, Sweetling. Like this,” he whispered, guiding her, lifting her hips toward him, then letting them drop back to the feather mattress.

     Slowly, clumsily, Katherine followed him.

     Wrapping her in his arms, he held her close, his knees nudging her reluctant thighs further apart. “Just so,” he murmured, trying to restrain himself, trying to be gentle, but shuddering from the extreme effort.

     “Saint Winifred,” breathed Katherine against his ear, clinging to him tighter.

      ’Twas impossible to hold back.

     When her hips rose to him, he met her fully, thrusting into her, filling her. Encompassed by her slick warmth, ’twas all he could do not to plunge yet again and end his agony.

     But Katherine’s startled cry, muffled in his neck, stilled his ardor. He cut off the groan rising to choke him and gathered her close, kissing her temple.

     “Tush, Sweetling, the pain will pass.”

     “You never spoke of pain!” Katherine’s whisper, tinged with reproach and panic, made him feel the knave.

     “I’m sorry for the oversight. You never gave me much choice.” Rhys shifted his weight, hoping ’twould ease her discomfort. It merely heightened his own. The raging pressure of his desires, abetted by the heat of Katherine’s body girding him, begot an exquisite torture, impossible to withstand.  

     God’s bones, must he wrestle with nature and the unbearable need to release his seed, even while Katherine must contend with pain? His ragged breathing filled the tent.

     “Dear heart, ’tis done,” he managed and tried not to move, tried to consider her needs and not his own. “You are no longer a virgin. I have been told the pain is of short duration and quickly forgotten.” Supporting himself on his elbows, he gazed into Katherine’s bewildered and flushed face. “Now you will discover what it means to be a woman.”

     He could contain himself no longer. With a satisfied groan, he thrust deeper, felt her surrounding flesh. Rapture!

     “Move with me,” he demanded, holding her buttocks in his hands, guiding her, drawing her into a steady cadence. With hips bound together, arching and falling, they moved in unison. Pummeling her core, basking in the wondrous sensations, his breath grew more ragged with each thrust.

     She strained against him, her nails digging into his back, when a sudden cry flowed from the depths of her throat, as though her very soul had escaped.

     It sent him over the edge. The exquisite beginnings of his own release seized him, and with a roar, he plunged deep and poured his seed into her.

     Katherine began to weep, her face buried in the hollow of his neck. “I never imagined ’twould cause pain for you.”

     “Pain?” Incredulous, he levered himself onto his elbows. “Nay, Dearest, ’twas pleasure—exquisite pleasure.”

     She calmed, caressing his chest. Brushing aside a shock of blond hair from his temple, her eyes questioned him. “Then you’re not hurt?”

     He realized her concern. “Nay, my love. ’Tis the way for a man.”

     Katherine offered him a tight smile and leaned up to place a lovely, lingering kiss upon his shoulder. He sighed in pleasure. She drew back, her lips moist with his perspiration. “’Tis my fervent prayer never to hurt you,” she whispered. “I love you.”

     He lifted her chin and gazed into her dark eyes and wished with all his heart he could be as honest. Instead, he enfolded her in his arms and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

     Her arms encompassed him as though he would disappear.

     Rhys felt himself swelling within her, responding to the contact as though he had never touched her.

     Katherine must have felt the change in him, for a sound, deep and primal, surged up her throat. Her hips arched against him and her legs slid around his own, holding him fast.

     A groan escaped him—of pleasure, of growing need, of helpless frustration. He could not admit his love, yet mayhap he could grant her a measure of reassurance.

     With a kiss upon her cheek, he murmured, “Forasmuch as we have shared this moment, Sweetling, know you will never be alone.”

     In the murky light, Katherine’s eyes glittered like precious gems. She inhaled raggedly. “Yea, my beloved, this night needs last me a lifetime.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

     Katherine gazed through the window of the wardrobe and tried not to shed more tears.      

     Out in the bailey, chaos reigned as the court prepared to depart for Devizes, where Edward had summoned his council to meet on the fifth of April. Morning prayers had ended and the king was in his chamber readying himself for the journey southward.

     Torches cast feeble spheres of light into the predawn darkness, where wagons were being assembled in the courtyard and laded with the goods of the royal household. The noise waxed to such proportions that all castle inhabitants had been rousted from their sleep, including herself and Rhys.

     She leaned wearily on the sill.      

     What had she done? Verily, her love for Rhys was greater anon than yester day. Surely her heart would break in twain. Mired in grief and longing, already her memories haunted her—the desperate pressure of Rhys’s lips on her own, his scent filling her nostrils as she snuggled into his warmth, his heartbeat drumming against her ear, his strength beneath her fingertips. She could nigh endure her own skin, so awakened was she by sensations and emotions she never knew existed.

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