The Devil Claims a Wife (15 page)

She looked up at him, unable to bear his attention, the sweet torture he so freely gave her. ‘Is this it?’ she whispered. ‘Is this what marriage is all about?’

Guy smiled. ‘Listen, my love, and mark my words well.’ He drew her closer. ‘This is it. The playing is over.’

His voice was low and husky in her ears and Jane had to dip deeply into her reservoir of will to dispel the slow numbing of her defences. The pressure of his touch was light, but to her it felt like a trap of steel. She was aware of his naked chest and the manly feel of his lean, muscular body pressed to hers, while he was made totally aware of her naked form. They stared at each other for a second of suspended time, which could as well have been an hour or more. Then slowly, almost haltingly, Guy lowered his mouth to hers.

The shock was abrupt for them both and the gentle touch of his lips turned to a heated, crushing demand. Passions flared and their needs grew, mounting on soaring wings. Passion had become raw hunger and desperate need—everything else was cindered beneath the white heat of their mutual desires. It happened
quickly, coming upon them in a rush, the awakened fires, the hungering lusts, the bittersweet ache of passion so long restrained. Guy clasped the lithe form in his arms. The warmth and softness of her set his mind and body aflame.

It seemed to Jane as though they sought to unify their bodies into one single being—as though by kissing they gave to each other their life’s breath. She knew she shouldn’t want this, but she did. She knew that it was dangerous, but she wasn’t afraid. Her world turned to giddy spirals. As if they had a will of their own, Jane’s arms wound themselves about his neck. The pounding of her heart refused to slow and she reviewed the condition of her mind as if from a distance. If not held in check by her struggling will, her hands might have urged him back, but she clung to him as though to hold him even closer, his name moaning in her throat.

She was aware of his desires, knowing he wanted her to yield. Their bodies fitted together, breast to breast, thigh to thigh, mouths fused, moving, caressing, enfolding, their tongues touching. She waited for the screaming denial to come from some dark, unfeeling recess of her mind, this time determined to vanquish its intrusion. But she was met with only
empty silence as if her conscience watched in amused approval.

When his lips left hers and he pressed fevered kisses along the ivory column of her throat and the gentle swell of her breasts, throwing back her head to allow him easy access, with closed eyes and breathing quickly, Jane murmured, ‘Please stop. I don’t think I can stand more of this.’

He chuckled low and deep. ‘Yes, you can,’ he said, his mouth going even lower. ‘We have only just begun. You are more of a woman than I thought. I will teach you to provoke me, Jane. I will have you begging for mercy, you beautiful, irresistible girl.’

From that moment onwards, Jane stopped belonging to herself. As she found again the lips that had already intoxicated her once, she also recaptured the whirlwind of unknown sensations, whose memory had left a dim yearning deep in her flesh. Everything came alive within her.

Guy’s knowledgeable fingers stroked and caressed the contours of her body, her shapely thighs, while his restless blood clamoured for a deeper fulfilment. There was a haste in him to know and touch every part of her, to claim her as his own. She held his head, wrapping
her arms about it as again his mouth slid to her breast, taking the hardness of her rosy nipple in his mouth.

Glowing waves of pleasure spread like liquid fire through Jane’s body as he gently sucked and teased. Her head thrashed from side to side and a breathless moan slipped from her as his lips continued to caress a pink, pliant crest. His tongue branded her with its fiery touch and her lithe form shook with the fervour that built within her. Raising his face to hers, Guy placed his mouth suddenly on hers, tasting with a hunger they both shared.

Jane closed her eyes. Within raged confusion and contradiction. With the promise of a fulfilment which nothing would hinder, her pleasure had risen to such heights that she was frightened by it. While only a moment before she had been ready to surrender, now she rebelled against seduction. She threw herself back, gasping, trying to escape from those hands whose every gesture brought to her new springs of rapture.

‘Oh, please,’ she gasped, ‘do not do this. Please—you must stop … I never meant …’

‘Nay, my love, we have come too far to deny ourselves now.’

He laughed without any sign of contrition
and once more Jane succumbed to his superior strength. Her blood began to course more quickly through her veins. A rush of desire flashed deep within her and spread through her whole being. With breathless curiosity the surprising new sensations she was experiencing beneath his naked body and the thrusting of his manhood between her open thighs dissolved her will.

When he finally took her she let herself flow, unresisting, along the stream of voluptuousness. She did not cry out against the pain, for every particle of her body was furiously calling for domination by her master. Her green eyes opened wide, then waves of pleasure swept her from one summit to another in an ecstasy she had never known before. With her head thrown back over the edge of the bed, she heard the soft, plaintive moan and suddenly recognised her own voice.

With untiring patience he would bring her back to him, each time more yielding, warm and moaning, with fever-bright eyes. The sensual haze that descended on her made her wonder why she fought him. All she could comprehend was how gentle he was, how loving, and when he kissed her, there was nothing she could do but kiss him back. She struggled and
surrendered in turn, but when the emotion she could not control had reached its peak, she felt utterly spent.

Then a finger touched her chin and raised it until she looked full into his soft, deep blue eyes. They were not smiling, but intense to such a degree that she was almost startled. He was easing her back on to the bed, using his strength, kneeling over her, and her skin glowed like a pearl.

She should not be letting him do this again, Jane told herself feverishly. She should not be allowing him to enslave her like this. But he was already rearing over her, his hands sliding up her thighs and curling over them. His tongue flicked against her and she arched up like a bow. She was surprised at her own abandon, for she came to him again, pressing to him, answering his every passion with her own, losing all awareness of herself as her senses mastered her entirely. Between them they had created a need for each other that was now consuming them, overwhelming them, blotting out everything around them. Quenching that raging thirst would take more than a few moments’ desperate embrace. But it was now no longer a matter of choice. Desire had become necessity. She sighed as his lips found her breasts, his
hand boldly stroking her thighs. He held her, his lips caressing her softly, stirring her until her mouth parted beneath the exquisite agony of it.

He did not rush to possess her as he had done before, but savoured each passing moment of pleasure, and in the waiting a budding ecstasy began to bloom and grow within Jane, a feeling which she could neither quench nor deny. His delay attacked her senses, the throbbing heat of him warmed her and she began to respond to his ardent kisses, the hot flame of heat enveloping her so that she was no longer herself, but his.

His hands were beneath her hips, lifting her to him. At last he slid into her, to the very core of her, sinking deeper and pulling away. There was something pagan that spoke to a part of her she had not known was there, and he took her to a place she had never known before as once again they tasted the full joy of their mutual union. Her moans were of pleasure, until the climax swept over them with a power they had thought unimaginable. Jane was his again and she revelled in the sweetness of bliss.

When at last their passion was spent and she was nestled beside his manly warmth, Jane’s mind came together from the nether regions where it had fled what seemed like a long time
ago. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her, but the exquisite pleasure she had taken in their lovemaking was something she had not expected to find. It was a pleasure that was more than physical, but she felt there was a part of him she could not reach.

‘You are mine now, Jane,’ he murmured, gently kissing the top of her head, ‘my wife in every sense, and from this moment on this is how it will be between us.’

His words stirred Jane back to awareness. Pulling away from him, Jane stared into his eyes, feeling his possession of her and her own willingness to be possessed.

My God, could she be falling in love with him? she wondered, and then firmly dismissed the notion. No, she absolutely was not falling in love with him. For her there would always be the ideal. Not only must she love, but she must be loved equally in return. Anything less was unacceptable. Besides, she absolutely refused to fall in love with a man who regarded her as nothing more than a brood mare.

Guy opened his eyes when sunlight streamed across the bed. Jane was asleep beside him, curled up in a nest of covers, her hair a tangle of silken tresses about her head. His heart
turned over at the sight of her. She was warm and soft, her face serene in slumber, her dark curling lashes sweeping her cheeks.

The aching memory of her response to him, the open generosity of her lovemaking, touched him deeply. He could succumb to the temptation of a beautiful woman as easily as the average man, but he had never experienced anything like what he was beginning to feel for his wife. He was uncomfortable with the feeling. Cynically, he tried to ignore the protective need she roused in him. It had been many years since a woman had touched that chord in him. The memory brought a return of bitterness he had thought long dead. It was an experience he had vowed never to repeat. Isabel’s betrayal had been as though a part of him had been severed, and the only way to staunch the blood had been to make sure he never fell for a woman again. Which he had done, until Jane Lovet had come along. Just one night in her bed and gone was the reserve, the restraint he exercised over all aspects of his life.

Here he was, trapped by a guileless woman, all his self-esteem set aside. The longer he remained with her, her hold on him would grow stronger, and before he knew it he would have become enslaved and no longer be his own
master. It was a situation he could not even begin to contemplate.

The arrival of the king’s messenger summoning him to Westminster could not have come at a more appropriate time.

A smile drifted across Jane’s face as she stood at the top of the stairs and surveyed the hall below. The servants had done their work and now there was no sign of the previous day’s revelries. Several knights slouched on benches against the walls, most of them sleeping off the effects of too much liquor. Some slowly lifted their faces to her and with an effort managed to open their eyes, their expressions pained and strained. One or two managed a wincing smile.

Shaking her head in amusement, she descended the stairs and walked across the hall to the door.

Guy came in from the courtyard. Having left her slumbering not more than half an hour before, he was surprised to see her up and dressed. The contrast between her very proper appearance and her lusty performance of a short while ago fired his interest anew. Even he was a little shocked by his appetite for her. His speculative gaze riveted on her with rapt fascination.

‘Good morning again, Jane. I trust you slept well?’

‘Very well,’ she replied in a voice that was an embarrassed whisper, but her eyes were bright and sparkling. ‘I was just going to take a walk outside. As you see, everyone is suffering the after-effects of the wedding.’

Guy’s glance at his fellow knights and the smug grin that accompanied it was without sympathy. ‘They’re paying the price of an orgy of drunkenness—unlike myself. I plead complete innocence.’

Jane shot him a reproving look. ‘Had you not been otherwise engaged with your wife, my lord, I have no doubt you would have been as drunk as the rest of them and in dire need of a restorative.’

The look he gave her was positively wicked. ‘There’s only one kind of restorative I am interested in, Jane. I shall be more than happy for you to administer it to me at a later date. Come. Allow me to accompany you outside where you can bid your husband a safe journey.’

She stared at him for a speechless moment. ‘What journey? Where can you possibly be rushing off to at a moment’s notice?’

Avoiding her eyes, he strode out into the
courtyard. ‘I have a message from the king. I’m going away for a few days.’

‘Going away? Where?’ Jane demanded, having to run to keep up with him.

‘To London. To the court. I am needed for urgent consultations.’

‘London?’ she gasped, trying to ignore the panic that was making her heart race. ‘But—what about everything here? What about me?’

‘What about you?’

‘Well, you can’t just go like this.’

‘Why not?’ he asked with iron politeness.

‘Can I go with you?’

‘No. You will remain here.’

The news hit her like a physical blow. Her cheeks flamed with indignation. ‘You mean to abandon me the morning after our wedding? You really are leaving me here alone?’

‘The castle is full of servants. You won’t be alone.’

‘But—you can’t do that.’

‘Yes, I can, Jane,’ he told her firmly, his eyes hardening. ‘You’ll be perfectly all right. The servants will look after you and I’m sure you will find plenty to occupy your time.’

‘Did you know you would be leaving last night?’

‘No,’ he replied, walking briskly to where
Cedric was waiting with the horses. ‘I have very little time. If you have something to say, please get it over with.’

Her back ramrod straight and her eyes jewel bright, she said, ‘I—I thought—after last night, we—we …’ She fluttered a hand, not knowing quite what to say. She went on. ‘I—I see now I was wrong about your feelings. I—I will miss you.’

There was an odd, searching look in his eyes. ‘Will you?’

She nodded. ‘Though I cannot see why you have to go. We’ve been married less than a day and you will not be here when I need you most.’