Yearning Heart (28 page)

Still, Stephen waited, his lips parted just enough to let her tongue remain inside his mouth. She made to withdraw, but he moved, drawing her tongue back into his mouth, sucking hard and fast. His arms were around her, crushing her to the thickness of his arousal. He released her tongue and kissed hard, his teeth grinding into her lips, biting, sucking until her mouth swelled and grew tender. Her breasts hardened and strained against her dress front. His lips slid over her chin, down her throat, licking, sucking, pulling, into the opening of her dress where buttons tore loose, letting him root until he found a tight nipple. The nipple disappeared into his mouth where he suckled, let go, wet it with his tongue and suckled again.

Rebecca's knees gave way and, together, they sank to the floor. Stephen's hands tore at her clothes, and she pulled at his shirt hooks without looking, her head thrown back and her body arched to the shape of his. Their bodies met flesh to flesh and both of them moaned. It was only a slash of time before she felt his hands probing her center, a finger entering her body to go in and out, in and out, until she throbbed with pleasure.

“Stephen, oh, Stephen,” she whispered.

He pulled his mouth away from her breast to look into her face, the wanton face of a lover who could not wait until he served her.

And he did.

Kneeling over her, he once more stroked her thighs, caressed her, caressed the warm depths of her center with gentle fingers. She trembled as he guided his swollen organ into her.

He groaned, the pleasure almost more than he could bear as he slowly sank deep inside her until their bodies locked together. He pulled her legs up and went deeper, withdrew, then thrust quickly, and immediately his juices spurted into her. A shout of triumph burst from his throat even as he fell onto her.

Beneath him, Rebecca twisted and her body surged upward to meet his driving force. He felt her lunge, and her legs climbed over his back to lock there. Her mouth sought and found his, her tongue inside his mouth, taking the juice from there as she had taken it from his loins. Had he not known better, Stephen would have thought he was sobbing with painfully exquisite feelings surging through him. Her hips pumped upward, her fingernails dug into his back, and she whispered his name over and over. His eyes were open when hers widened, became darker. Her head went back, her eyes closed tightly as she clasped him to her. She shouted his name as he covered her mouth with his.

Under him, Rebecca lay still although her breath came in jagged gusts. His bare chest flattened her breasts, but he felt her ribs expand and retreat, his hard belly pressed into hers. Her legs slid over his hips onto his legs, her heels finally resting on the backs of his knees.

His face buried in her hair, Stephen smelled Rebecca's scents, honeysuckle from a long summer past, the yeast from the bread she had kneaded, and the remains of the small amount of wine she had hours ago.

The shattering explosion of his love satisfied him, but only for that moment. Long fingers slid along her ribs, closing over a firm breast, stroking its tight nipple. He licked her throat and kissed his way down to her breasts. Teasing, he nipped and flicked it with his tongue, sucked and fondled until the rosy tip strutted into his mouth. His arousal rose strongly inside her wetness.

Rebecca marveled at the intensity of Stephen's lovemaking, at the way her body molded to his, the way she became a frenzied, uncontrolled animal beneath him. Stephen going wild between her thighs gave ecstasy such as she had never dreamed of, started a glowing sweetness inside that demanded satisfaction. Even now, her body relaxed, she quivered, wanting him to stay deeply imbedded in her stomach.

When his mouth moved over her once more, Rebecca sighed, giving in to the hot desire Stephen brought so easily to her. Inside her, she felt him swell, filling her, stretching her. Her mouth opened as though to cry out, and Stephen kissed hard, his tongue thrusting.

He rolled over, taking her on top of him, murmuring words, telling her how to please him, but she did not listen. Her mind was filled with as much pleasure as her body, and like any wanton trained in such things, she began to ride Stephen, pulling herself far enough away from his plunging body to lower herself, and with one hand, placed her breast in his open mouth.

Stephen's eyes had been tightly closed, but now they opened wide, and he stared into the brightness of Rebecca's gaze. He suckled, watching her. She moaned and threw her head back, her thick hair falling over her shoulder, tickling his ribs as it brushed his side. He wanted to shout, to cry out, to yell, to pour out words of purest joy, but he could not.

Instead, he pushed her breast away and fastened his hands to her face, bringing her open mouth to his, kissing hard, drawing her tongue to him to bite and lick with his own.

She was on her knees now, her fingers grasping his shoulders as their kisses sizzled and burned each other. Stephen's hands moved over her back, sliding down to fasten on her slender hips. He held her there and began pumping. He wanted to wait, but he couldn't last. His moans were lost in her throat as his hot juices poured into her.

Rebecca's thighs tightened around him and her body thrashed. She cried his name, and then slumped onto his belly where their love mixed and spread over their quiet figures.

* * * *

Stephen bathed her tenderly, all the while staring into Rebecca's dreamy blue eyes. When he squeezed water onto the tender area between her thighs, she quivered and a soft moan escaped her lips. Her smile was tremulous as he gently kissed her. He lifted her, and using a towel lying nearby, dried her with soft pats. Then he carried her to the bed and placed her on it.

He straightened, his eyes going over the body stretched in front of him. It looked tenderly ravished, and again, desire flowed through him, hardening as it went. He drew in his breath. Without thought, he lay beside her, turned her to him and held her tightly. He wanted to slip into her, stay deep in her warm center, and not move for hours, days even. He wanted to whisper love words to her, but somehow, they wouldn't come.

He kissed her parted lips, sighed, kissed her once more, and then released her to stand, gloriously naked, beside the bed.

“I must go, Rebecca. Be good enough to get clothes on so that I cannot be tempted beyond reason.”

With that, Stephen went quickly into the next room and closed the door.

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Chapter Twenty

It was after Stephen left New Sarum for London that Rebecca fully realized what had happened and just how serious the consequences could be. Those who disagreed violently with the king could cause real trouble, could even attack Stephen should they know he was traveling along a certain road. Highwaymen didn't need any cause to attack, only the fact that a carriage held one of the king's reeves.

She was uneasy and, at the same time, angry with Stephen for hastening to London in this troublesome time. But, as he said, King Henry depended on him, had always trusted him, so he must go.

Why? Why would the king's knights kill the archbishop? Sir Thomas was not that popular, but surely he had never done harm enough to warrant murder. Had the king ordered Sir Thomas killed and called Stephen to London to prevent reprisals? Would the queen stand by him in this catastrophe, as she had not done heretofore? How would the royal family explain to the children such actions by the king's knights?

Rebecca walked the hallways, thinking of Stephen in the cold halls of the palace, spending hours reassuring King Henry and Queen Eleanor, trying to find ways to prevent complete hysteria and mass violence. He would be without regular meals, sleep or any kind of rest until the king was reassured that he would not be held personally responsible for the archbishop's murder. He would be exhausted before the end of this turbulent affair.

Too, she remembered the love before Stephen left. Was it love or his needs only that brought him to her? And her? Rebecca blushed. Even her body became fiery with the memories of those hours before Stephen's departure. Her love for Stephen had heated her response to a torrid degree, had made it impossible for her to resist. If she spoke words of love in the heat of his loving, would he have heard her? Would he have taken notice? Or cared that she spoke from her heart while giving her body to him?

Stephen had taken her body and, along with that body, the heart that had belonged to him long ago, liberated itself for awhile, now his to break again. How could she endure such torture? For two years, she'd pushed aside her love, had refused to let herself remember the wonder of his lovemaking, and had worked to forget all that she could of her life with Stephen. She had thought never to return to his arms, yet here she was again, more in love with her husband than ever.

And resenting every minute of it.

Rebecca made her way into the kitchen and began to make bread. Activity kept her from the restless walking around the big house, still and lonely after the yuletide celebrations—and with no Stephen to watch for, to argue over being held prisoner in a place she hated. No one to love.

Malvina was there, however, and Rebecca kept out of her way, using one of the ovens in the cooking area off the great hall, one that Malvina seldom used. She cleaned the worktables of flour and scraps of dough, brushed crumbs from the floor, stood at the heavy tub and washed dishes. If a servant protested, she merely smiled and went on with what she was doing.

“I must do something or lose my mind in idleness,” she told one of the older women who begged her not to labor in the kitchen. “Go tend thy family, now, and care for them.”

The woman curtsied and backed away, but her worried eyes watched Rebecca. She was sore afraid the master might return and find his wife doing the work servants were supposed to do.

Rebecca thought of her manuscript, of perhaps writing a poem for Richard. Evenings were long and dark with nothing to do save embroider, and she had no desire for such tonight. A battle of wills with Stephen would be welcome though she seldom came out the winner. Like Henry, he ruled his domain, right or wrong.

Removing the cloth wrapped around her middle to protect her dress, she shook it to rid it of the flour and looked up to find Malvina nearby.

“My lady.”

“Good evening to you, Malvina,” Rebecca said and started around the maidservant. She would talk to Malvina if she could not avoid it, but she would not stop for such. It would not help her feelings to be with the woman she suspected was her husband's lover.

“I wouldst speak with thee, my lady,” Malvina said.

“Then speak for I am in need of rest.”

“Mayhap I could go to thy room.”

Rebecca's brows peaked. “I am not in need of thy services, Malvina. I can bathe alone.”

“Not to attend thee, my lady, but perchance to visit.”

“We have not the need for neighborly visits, Malvina.” She refused to be a hypocrite and profess to like the maidservant. If Malvina didn't know she mistrusted her, she wasn't paying mind to Rebecca's words.

“I beg a small amount of your time, my lady.”

“So be it.”

Rebecca went up the stairs and heard Malvina walking behind her. At the door to Rebecca's room, Malvina stepped around and opened it for her. Inside, Rebecca stopped and waited for the other woman to give reasons for her request.

Malvina curtsied, something she had not done recently. Rebecca regarded her with surprise.

“My lady, thou art angry with me for such reasons as I know not. How have I displeased thee?”

“ ‘Tis late for such a question, Malvina.”

“Why sayst thou this?”

Rebecca did not know how to tell the woman she knew of her late night trysts with Stephen. She did not know how to tell her she did not wish to share her husband with anyone, especially her own maidservant. Her breath caught as she remembered the last lovemaking with Stephen. At least, he had not the time to bed Malvina before he left for London. Rebecca had, at the least, been the last one he bedded ere he left New Sarum.

It gave Rebecca little satisfaction to think such thoughts. She did not want Stephen to share Malvina's bed. The hurt she had hidden lo these years was a festering wound in her heart and soul. The hurt had subsided during the time she traveled with Hugo and Margaret, but facing Malvina now brought it all back.

Malvina had not been her friend.

“There were fortnights thou couldst have been gentle after the baby, but thou didst not have the time for me. Why dost worry now after I have long since learned to care for myself?”

“Sir Stephen had need of me after the baby's death, my lady. He had the king and thee to worry over. It was my duty to be at his service.”

Rebecca walked to the window and gazed into the darkness. She did not like winter nights. They were long and dark, without end, when Stephen did not walk the halls. The days were bearable because there was work to be done or one could walk outside if snow did not become too deep.

“The king is always in Stephen's thought, Malvina. I think that he has no time for thee or me or anyone save the royal pair. Aye, ‘tis enough trouble for one man without adding a troublesome wife.”

“Wouldst answer me a question, my lady?”

“What question is that, Malvina?”

“Dost think Sir Stephen in love with me?”

White-hot anger shot through Rebecca and stiffened her shoulders. Slowly, she turned to face the maidservant, and they stared at each other.

“Perchance not, Malvina. Perchance he only desires thee as he does his own wife. Lucky is he that he has us both in his own house. Stephen is a man with a healthy appetite for such things, dost agree?”

Malvina drew back and her green eyes widened in dismay. She blushed.

“I, I know not, my lady. He does not approach me with such things.”

“Then why sayst that I think he might love you?”

“ ‘Tis the way you look at me, my lady, then look at Sir Stephen.” Her auburn head lifted, and she stuck her chin outward. Her hands twisted into her skirt. “Thou shouldst listen to me.”

“I have heard enough, Malvina. It is not pleasant to hear such things.”