Bell Heather offered a sad smile but shook her head. She walked to Minnette and took her arms in her hands, squeezing her elbows as if to calm her. Minnette didn’t think she would ever be calm again.
“Then what is it?” Minnette prodded, her heartrate rising. If it wasn’t Elric, was it Tristin? Glenn? Bear? The other one, the silent one, with the permanent scowl?
Bell Heather clicked her tongue. “Tis nothing to worry over,” she said. “At least not for ye.” Minnette watched as Bell Heather placed the flat of her hand over her belly. Realization struck at the same time the joy did.
“You are having a baby?” Minnette nearly squealed. Bell Heather nodded, laughing. “Oh, but that is good news! I am so happy for you.” And she was more than happy for the wonderful woman who had given so much of herself to watch over an unexpected guest in her home. Swallowing back the tears that began to form, Minnette offered a watery smile. “Tristin is excited, yes?”
Bell Heather laughed again. “He is strutting around like a cock, telling anyone who will listen.”
Picturing Sir Tristin as a rooster, puffing out his bright red chest feathers, made Minnette giggle. “That must be a sight.”
Bell Heather grinned then turned to lead Minnette to the end of the bed. She sat and then pulled Minnette down next to her.
“Enough about my news, tell me how ye are feeling,” Bell Heather demanded coaxingly.
How was she feeling? Restless, useless, frustrated, angry. Lonely.
“I am well, I suppose,” she answered, deciding it best to not overburden Bell Heather’s delicate condition. “Though, you should not be worrying after me. You should concern yourself with the health of your babe.” Before she could stop herself, she reached out and placed a hand on Bell Heather’s still flat belly. She was happy for Bell Heather and Tristin, but that did not hold back the wave of sadness that crashed into her.
I will never know this joy for myself. How could she? Her own uncle wanted her dead, and she had little hope of ever marrying. She would spend the rest of what was left of her life in this bedchamber, waiting for Elric to come. And what if he didn’t? What if he decided that she was more trouble than she was worth, even given the opportunity to bed her as he wanted to in that stable? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Giving yourself to Elric might not be the best idea. She was not a woman of experience, but she didn’t need to be to know that being intimate with someone could lead to complications. She couldn’t face more complications. Perhaps, she could find passage on a ship crossing the Channel to France? She would not dare return to Maman. But she could make a life for herself somewhere far away from Uncle Remi. Far from Elric and all he made her feel.
Perhaps she could find sanctuary with her father’s distant cousin. He’d seemed disinterested in her father’s estate, but did that mean he did not care for his cousin’s family either? Her papa had been a good man, a man of kindness and inclusion, always seeking to make even the lowliest of servants feel welcomed. Appreciated. Minnette did not know her father’s distant family, but she couldn’t believe that they would be much different than her wonderful papa.
There is hope beyond today. There has to be. Oh, Papa, if only you were still with me.
A sob lodged in her throat, and she coughed to hide the sound.
Non. If the chance existed that she could die before ever having a chance to truly live, as her papa had wanted for her, she wanted to live. Even if just for today. She wanted to know what it would feel like for a man, Elric, to make love to her, to bring her pleasure she could never experience again. She had one night to live a lifetime.
“Bell Heather,” Minnette blurted, just catching herself before she told the woman the whole of her plan.
“Aye?” the woman replied, her discerning gaze scrutinizing Minnette’s face.
“Could you please tell Elric that I am well?” She ducked her head, trying and failing to hide her nervous blush from Bell Heather who offered Minnette a knowing grin.
“Aye,” Bell Heather said simply, before rising from the bed and quitting the chamber.
Minnette didn’t have time to consider Bell Heather’s conspiratorial expression. She had too much to do before darkness fell and the castle grew quiet. If she knew Elric as she hoped she did, he would wait until any possible greedy eyes were abed before sneaking to her chamber. He would not want others knowing what they were doing.
And what am I doing? This is madness!
Oui…madness. And she would enjoy the journey.
By the time evening arrived and her untouched supper tray was retrieved by a sour-faced chambermaid, Minnette’s gut was twisted into knots not even a sword could sever. She did not know if Elric would come, but she trusted that Bell Heather would relay her message to him.
If did not come, it meant that he saw her for what she was: a complication he did not need.
But, if he came…would she balk upon his arrival, allowing her fear to choose loneliness for her? Or would she walk into his arms and give in to the desire that had burned her since first seeing him, bare-chested, fresh from a sparring match, glistening with sweat, a striking portrait of raw masculinity? He had been overwhelming, filling her with sensations she could not grasp. But now, she knew it for what it was. It was desire for the man she thought was the stable master.
A smile quirked her lips at that memory. But the smile died when a soft tap sounded at the chamber door.
He is here! Her heart thundering, Minnette took a moment to consider her thin night clothes. It was silk, finely made, and dyed carmine. It was a striking color against her skin, but she knew it would draw the eye—Elric’s eye—to where her dark pink nipples could be seen, and where the dark thatch of curls between her legs peaked out shyly.
Her hair hung loose down her back where it curled to tease her oversensitive flesh. She trembled, but her fear was easily overshadowed by her hunger for the man on the other side of the door.
Swallowing nervously, she called, “Come.”
Holding her breath, she stood in the middle of the chamber, her hands fisted at her sides, as the door slowly swung open. Elric appeared, his face cast in shadows from the candles burning in their holders around the room. He slipped inside, turned around and closed the door, then engaged the lock.
His back to her, she saw that he wore only a simple tunic, leather breeches, and black boots. His sword and sheath, and chainmail and greaves were gone. He’d come to her, stripped down of everything that had made him Sir Elric, the commander of the Homme du Sang. Right now, he was just a man.
She let go of the breath she’d been holding, silently beseeching him to turn around. He must’ve heard her plea because the muscles in his back rippled as he straightened his shoulders, then he spun to face her.
“Minnette,” her name came out in a rush, his gaze landing on the secret between her thighs, barely concealed behind the fabric she wore. “What are you doing to me?” he asked, raising both hands to slide them through his hair. The muscles of his arms bulged and Minnette felt the stirring with her, the hunger for those arms to be around her.
Taking hold of her courage, she walked toward him, the fabric of her night rail brushing against her erect nipples. “I have not begun to do anything, Elric,” she cooed, trying on the voice to see if it sounded as seductive as she’d hoped it would. “But I would like to.”
He let out a long, heavy breath and let his gaze continue its perusal of her. She felt his regard of her, the heat and hunger she saw in his golden depths. It was dark, devastating, and it feasted on her as she wanted his mouth to do.
Despite her bravado, she felt utterly vulnerable before him, before his experience. She was a maiden, and he was a confessed womanizer. What if he found her wanting?
“I can see you thinking, Kitten, and you are wrong. I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you. And even though I have yet to have you as I wished, I already know no other woman can compare to you. You are a marvel, Kitten.” As he spoke,
he took a step toward her, brushing the back of his fingers over her cheek, down her neck, to her collarbone, stopping just shy of touching her where she really wanted to feel his skin against hers.
“Show me what you want, Kitten,” Elric murmured, his eyes darkening to near black gold.
Gathering up her strength and allowing her desire free rein, she reached up and twined her fingers in his hair, pulling his head down to her. She pressed her lips against his, tentatively, for she was not experienced in kissing a man either. He had been her first, and it had become like an intoxicating wine. She would never want another. She dropped one hand to his chest, rubbing the flat, hard plane of his chest. It twitched beneath her touch.
Spurred on by his reaction, she deepened the kiss, teasing his lips with the tip of her tongue until Elric growled, taking ownership of the kiss, possessing her, body and soul, and drawing out hot, hungry moans. He kissed down her chin, to her neck, following the trail his fingers had taken earlier, over her collarbone to plant a slow, hot kiss on the very top of her breast.
She groaned at the contact, her legs weakening beneath her. Elric chuckled, lifting her as easily as he would a sheaf of paper. She looped her arms around his head and he began kissing her again, ravaging her mouth, filling her very marrow with her want of him.
Gently, he bent at the waist and laid her on the bed, stepping back to look at her.
“Beautiful,” he growled. She blushed, feeling desirable and truly beautiful for the first time in her life. And she wasn’t even naked yet.
As if reading her thoughts, Elric kneeled on the bed, the weight of him a strange and yet exciting experience. His hand on her leg made her start.
“Easy, Kitten, I just want to touch you,” Elric cooed, and she immediately felt the heat from where his hand was sliding up her leg. He kissed just beneath her knee, slid his hand higher, dragging up the hem of her night rail, then kissed just above her knee. He continued in that fashion until her night rail was up around her waist, leaving the most intimate parts of her bared to his gaze.
“Beautiful,” he murmured again, and this time, the flush was desire-induced.
He kissed her thigh, and she held her breath. He slipped his hand higher, his fingers brushing against the springy curls at her apex. He kissed the inside of her thigh, and her breath exploded from her chest.
“Elric!” she cried, her voice strangled.
He chuckled. “I would kiss you there, Kitten, but I am not sure you are ready for such playfulness.”
Playfulness? If what he was doing was playful, she had to see what he was like when he was being serious.
He kissed her belly, his hot breath fluttering over her as if to mimic the butterflies in her stomach. The higher he pushed her night rail, the higher his touch claimed her, the higher up on her tingling body. His kiss was both tender and sensual, drawing every sensation from her. She quivered, her legs trembling, and she was thankful she was no longer standing.
Suddenly desperate to feel his hands on every part of her, she grabbed the bottom of her night rail and tugged, pulling it up and over her head. She tossed it and forgot about it, because the look on Elric’s face stole her attention.
His gaze was a smoldering flame, searing her, turning her into a human bonfire. Her breasts swelled beneath his appreciative appraisal, and her nipples hardened to aching points.
Not taking his eyes from her, Elric’s mouth quirked into a sensual, devilish smile, one that told her he was thinking wicked, delicious things. He slid from the bed to stand beside her.
She shuddered, her breath catching.
Slowly, knowing she was watching him, Elric grabbed hold of his tunic, pulling it up. First, he revealed the tapered ripples of his belly, the taunt muscles moving and undulating as if in approval of her awe. He lifted the tunic higher, revealing his pectorals, which were smattered with soft-looking dark golden hairs. He pulled the tunic over his head and tossed it into oblivion with her night rail.
She sucked in a breath and held it.
He was beautiful, perfectly formed. His broad shoulders the perfect support on which to hang the tight muscles, hard skin, and gorgeous masculinity.
His lips twitched and she looked up in time to see a wicked gleam flash over his eyes.
He dropped his hands to his breeches, and her gaze dropped with them.
With a tug, he pulled the leather ties that were crisscrossing his lower belly, right where a trail of dark golden hair disappeared.
Once the ties were loosed, he tugged the sides of his breeches, sliding them down, slowly, artfully, as if dragging out the tension, the excitement.
Finally, his thick, long manhood sprung free. Her eyes widened, awe filling her.
He was a magnificent image of human glory.
But how would he fit? Her fear slithered in, stealing some of the heat of her arousal.
“Worry not, Kitten, I will fit, and we will both find exquisite pleasure in it.” His voice dripped honey over her, and she trembled, raising her arms in welcome.
With a growl, Elric joined her in the bed, stealing her thoughts with a single kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The sight of her beneath him took his breath away. A million nights, a million fantasies, and none of them would compare to the reality of her. Her long, perfectly-formed legs, the flat plane of her belly, the thatch of dark curls hiding her femininity like a closely guarded secret, one he wanted to learn with his lips and tongue. The globes of her breasts were overflowing handfuls, and her nipples were the same dark pink as her lips, perky and begging for his tongue.
So, he gave them what they wanted. He rested his weight on his elbows and bent his head, taking one of the hard nipples into his mouth. She gasped, trembling beneath them, and he growled, smiling as he sucked and lathed the tip with his tongue. He pulled back to flick at it before bending to nip at it and suck it again. Her hands in his hair, the deep moans from her chest, told him she was close to losing her mind—just as he was from simply touching her. Abandoning that nipple, he gave his utmost attention to the other greedy tip. And with his right hand, he slid his fingers down her heated skin, slipping his seeking fingers between her thighs.
“Elric!” she cried, arching into his mouth and then lifting her hips in a silent plea.
He lifted his head from her succulent breast to grin down at her. Her eyes were slits of desire, peering at him with a haze of lust.
He slid his fingers down and between her nether lips, her wetness making him groan.
God, she was so responsive, so eager. He kissed her, taking her mouth just as he found the hidden pearl, flicking it with his thumb.
She lurched off the bed, crying out as her body trembled all the more. He continued his gentle onslaught, using his fingers to bring her pleasure upon pleasure, and his mouth to steal her kisses.
“Elric…” She shuddered. “Please.”
He knew what she was asking for.
Rising over her, he pressed her thighs apart. His manhood slid along her folds, gathering moisture. The heat and softness of her was incredible, and he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be inside her.
Bending to kiss her, knowing she would need the distraction, he pressed two fingers into her channel. She stiffened at first but, as he worked his fingers in and out, she relaxed, moaning and thrashing her head as the pleasure unfurled within her. Her skin was flushed, sweat beaded on her chest and forehead, and her hair was sticking to her cheeks.
She was glorious.
He could wait no longer.
Crushing his mouth to hers, he moved in between her thighs, lining his manhood up with the entrance to Heaven. And just as he thrust his tongue in the heat of her mouth, he thrust his thickness into her.
He swallowed her sharp cry and reached up to cup her face, sliding his thumb over her cheeks as he stared down into her wide eyes.
“It will only hurt for a short while,” he said. He pulled out slowly, bringing his head just to her openin
g, then he slowly slid back in.
“Oh!” she murmured. He cocked a smile. He slid in a little deeper. “Oooooh,” she mewled, arching her neck. It was an invitation he could not ignore. He pressed a kiss to the flesh of her neck, nipping it and then licking it. Marking her as his.
Minnette caressed his chest, her fingers clipping his nipples, the square peaks sensitive. He groaned.
She moved beneath him, raising her hips to meet his slow thrusts.
He pressed his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling, and he quickened his pace.
She was so tight, her sheath clutching at him hungrily. Her heat was intoxicating, her scent was thrilling, and the feel of her around him broke him into pieces.
He took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, and as he lavished attention on her bountiful breasts, he pressed himself into her, pulling out and plunging in again, before grinding his hilt against her pearl to heighten the pleasure, the growing tension.
She exploded, her channel grasping him, squeezing him, and he thrust harder. His vision blurring, his heart racing, he listened to her as she cried out his name, over and over, like a prayer of supplication.
He threw his head back, deepening his thrusts, quickening his pace. He grunted, the pulse gathering in his lower back and spreading to his bollocks, pulling them up.
Minnette arched her back, lifting her hips to meet him, to welcome him, to urge him on to the inevitable conclusion. He plunged into her, his breathing ragged, her body sucking at him, begging him to give it more.
He gave it everything, just as the ripples of another orgasm pulsed through her.
“Minnette!” he cried out, his body trembling just before his world tumbled. Lightning flashed behind his eyes, bringing with it the moon and the stars, and he bellowed into the ceiling, his neck muscles popping at the strain to thrust deep, emptying himself into the deepest parts of her.
He collapsed atop her, their chests heaving, their naked flesh pressed together, overstimulating his already overwrought nerves.
The Fire and the Sword (Men of Blood Book 2) Page 26
