The Warrior's Maiden (The Warriors Series Book 2)

by Denise Domning

  So great was this desire that his shaft stirred. Growling in frustration, Josce stared down at his feet as he dug his bare toes into the moist sod. Wasn’t his physical reaction proof that all he harbored for Elianne was carnal need? It had to be lust. Elianne was his enemy’s daughter. To hold even a shred of affection for her betrayed his vow of vengeance.

  “What are you doing out here at this hour?”

  Josce’s head snapped up at Elianne’s soft call. Framed in the night, the form in the gateway was humpbacked and misshapen. Even though Josce knew very well who stood, there he found himself foolishly hoping this was some ogre pretending to be Elianne. Far better he battled a mystical creature than meet the woman herself.

  “I saw you walk past the kitchen, only because it was too hot in there to close the door and Aggie won’t douse the fire,” Elianne continued around a yawn as she crossed the garden’s expanse to join him. “Is something amiss? Does your lady stepmother worsen?”

  Half-considering running, Josce came to his feet as she appeared next to him out of the darkness. The night turned her loosened hair into black threads around the white circle of her face. Her humpback was a blanket bunched up around her shoulders. Held closed by only her fist, that woolen sheet cloaked her to her knees. Her feet were bare.

  Josce looked at her naked toes and swallowed, as this time, his lust stirred with uncomfortable strength. Elianne would sleep unclad; why would she do differently than anyone else in the world? Did the swathing blanket mean she hadn’t paused to dress before following him here? He shook at his need to peel back the covering and see for himself.

  God save him, but he was drowning in want of her. Lust. That’s all it was.

  “Lord, but the kitchen floor’s harder than anything I’ve ever before slept upon,” she went on, her voice a little tighter now. “That’s why I noticed you. I was once again rearranging my pallet hoping for a softer spot.”

  Her voice died off into silence, then she gave a nervous little laugh and took a backward step. “I’m intruding, aren’t I? My pardon. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

  She couldn’t leave him! Reaching out, Josce caught her by the arms. Even as he told himself he shouldn’t, he drew her closer, wrapping an arm around her back. She sighed as she came to rest against him, her hands braced on his chest.

  Josce’s longing for her grew until it was beyond need. Right now. He’d take Elianne upon the dewy grass. Aye, and when he finished, his lust would be sated and he would be free of the spell she’d woven over him.

  The heat of her body pulsed from her to envelop him in her warmth. Her hair tumbled over his arm, thick and cool where it touched his skin. His fingers curled into the fabric of her blanket. Lord, but she was wondrous tall. He barely had to bend his head to touch his lips to hers.

  Their mouths met. Her lips softened beneath his, then she shivered against his kiss. Josce’s eyes closed as her tremor sent sensation streaking through him.

  Wanting so much more, he lifted his other hand to her nape. With his fingers wound into her hair, he cupped her head in his palm to trap her mouth against his, then let his kiss deepen. What need had he of words when the very pressure of his lips on hers urged her to give herself to him?

  Just as he prayed she might, Elianne relaxed against him in feminine surrender. Need became throbbing heat. His mouth slashed atop hers, demanding that she cede to him what he now needed more than breath itself. Her hand caught in the fabric of his shirt as she pushed herself back from him, just a little. Her lips left his.

  “Josce,” she breathed, her voice shaken as she turned his name into a plea.

  Frustration and need howled in him, trying to drown out her voice. It didn’t matter what she said. He knew she desired him as deeply as he wanted her, else she’d have truly pushed him or fought free of his embrace. Another kiss, and she’d let him do as pleased him, as pleased them both. Such was the thinking of a man who but lusted after a woman.

  Pulling her close again, Josce lowered his head to give her that kiss. Once more, she melted into his embrace, ready to yield all to him as she’d already done. His lips stopped but a breath from hers.

  Images of yesterday filled him, of Elianne seated on the garden bench as they ate. In his mind’s eye he again saw how her honesty of character glowed from her like some saint’s halo. Josce’s eyes closed in defeat. Misusing Elianne would be akin to defiling a church. God help him, it wasn’t lust he felt for her, but the beginnings of something far more dangerous.

  Held pinned against him, Josce’s mouth so near to her own that she felt his breath against her skin, Elianne waited for him to release her. He would, of that she was certain. Josce was too good a man to press himself on her, especially when he knew how wrong it was for them to sin again.

  She could make it easier for him if she took a backward step. That was the right thing to do, the sensible thing to do. After all, he wasn’t hers to keep.

  Pain stabbed through Elianne as she again confronted a truth she’d visited often this night. Not even if Josce loved her with all his heart could he ever claim her as his own. To wed a worthless woman betrayed his father’s gift to him. Nay, Josce’s wife would be well endowed with either property or wealth.

  Elianne marked time’s passage by the thud of her heartbeat. Still Josce held her. It was a seductive swirl of joy that filled her at this. He wanted to let her go no more than she wanted him to release her.

  It didn’t matter. She had to move. To repeat their sin was to double her chances of bearing his child.

  Bearing Josce’s bastard meant a lifetime of shame for her and his child, even if he did as his sire had done and claimed her babe as his. Wasn’t the torment Adelm endured proof of that? Her father would be shed of her. Knabwell’s folk would call her whore. The very thought of standing before Mother Gertha in Church court and admitting to fornication terrified Elianne.

  Still, not so much as her fingertip shifted. How could she reject Josce, when doing so meant she’d never again know the wondrous pleasure of his caresses? It didn’t matter that what she wanted was wrong, or even sin. She craved another taste of what the world forbade her.

  In the end it was she who moved. She leaned forward to touch her mouth to his. Josce tensed, his lips almost hard atop hers, then, almost as quickly, he sighed and relaxed.

  As his arms around her tightened, pulling her against him, her kiss became his. There was such urgency in the caress that Elianne wanted to laugh and cry all at once. He needed her. Like her, he needed the pleasure they could make between them.

  A moment later, his mouth left hers to trace a blazing line of kisses down her neck. His hand descended from her head into her blanket’s opening. His fingers were warm against the bareness she hid beneath that woolen sheet. When he curled his hand around the fullness of her breast Elianne gasped, quaking. That throbbing returned to her womb, stunning in its intensity.

  Knowing this must be their final tryst made Elianne bold. If this was to be the last, then she’d spend it learning all she could of him and the joy he made in her. Releasing her grip on her blanket, she let it drop onto the grass at her heels, baring her unclad form to the stars.

  Josce sucked in a startled breath, then leaned back from her as if he meant to study her. Now that she was bare, she wished to feel his skin against her own. She caught the fabric of his shirt, tugging at the loose-fitting garment. When Josce realized what she wanted, he snatched it off. The shirt was all he wore. Elianne sighed in appreciation. Lord help her, but she liked the way he looked, especially right this moment with his form framed against the jeweled velvet of the night sky. There was something about the powerful bulge of his shoulders and the strong curve of his arms that fed what pulsed in her.

  He reached out as if to once more take her into his arms. She held up her hands to stop him. “Nay,” she murmured, “let me know you first.”

  “Know me?” he replied, his voice as low as hers.

  That they should whispe
r when they were so far from the house no one could ever hear them even if they screamed almost made Elianne smile, then it made her sad. Such was her fate. What she and Josce shared must always remain secret.

  “I know we haven’t long before we must part, you and I,” she said, her voice still low.

  His sigh acknowledged the truth of her statement. The sound cut into her heart. She reached out to rest her fingers upon his shoulders.

  “If this is all I’m to have of joy in my life, I would memorize all of you, so I might keep the recall as my own once you’re gone.” As she spoke, she traced her hands downward, exploring the muscular landscape of his arms.

  He shivered at her caress. When she reached his hands, he caught them in his own. Lifting her trapped hands to his lips, he pressed kisses to each finger, then placed her palms against his chest, inviting her to touch him as she would.

  It was enough to set Elianne to trembling. That heat at her woman’s core redoubled. She drew her hands down the contours of his chest, smoothing the hair that covered his skin. When her fingers reached his waist she slid her hands to the sides of his torso, then stroked a pathway down either side of him to his hips.

  He caught a shaken breath. Not even the night was dark enough to hide the way his shaft reacted to how she touched his body. Elianne watched in fascination as it jerked and lifted, rising as if it had a life of its own.

  This wasn’t the first time she’d seen a shaft at salute. By necessity, Aggie’s boys had often gone without breeches or breech cloths once they began to toddle and before they were trained to use the latrine. At times their wee members had looked like arrows in search of a bow. Aye, but this was the first time she’d seen a man’s shaft rise for want of her.

  She touched the tip of her finger to that part of Josce most male, then stroked its length. To her surprise, his skin there felt silken soft. Now curious indeed, she closed her whole hand around his shaft and stroked.

  Breath huffed from Josce. A tremor shot through him. Elianne smiled. There was no mistaking his pleasure. Against all logic, the knowledge that she pleased him fed her own enjoyment until her womb fair melted.

  Oh, but she was liking this well indeed. Again she stroked his shaft. He panted, then reached out to cup her breasts. In a caress as bold as hers, his thumbs shifted across her nipples. It was her turn to pant. She released his shaft to shake her hair back over her shoulders so it might not impede him should he want to do more of this.

  A quiet laugh rumbled from Josce. “Lord, but everything you do astounds me,” he whispered. As he spoke, he used his fingertips to outline the fullness of her breasts.

  Even as his caress sent waves of feeling washing over Elianne, she eyed him in surprise. Her, surprise him? How, when she was a woman whose life was nothing but crushing daily routine?

  “There is nothing unusual about me,” she breathed.

  “You’re wrong in that, ‘Lianne,” he returned, then leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. “Touch me again,” he commanded at a whisper.

  Elianne happily complied, once more curling her hand about his shaft. As she slid her fingers down its length, he moved his hands upon her breasts to rub his palms against their crests. The thrill that shot through Elianne was so great her body arched, her hips thrusting toward his. Startled, she released his shaft and fell against him. From deep within her came a primal knowing that it was this sort of sensation she wanted from Josce.

  With a quiet growl, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her hard against him. Every inch of them touched. Her thighs met his, her hips rested against his. Elianne’s breasts throbbed as they flattened against his chest.

  Trapped between them, his heated shaft sought to move against her belly. To her astonishment, this sent another wave of that strange thrill washing over her. Aye, more of this!

  Without thought, she lifted her mouth to his. He accepted her invitation, his lips once more slashing across hers. Her skin took fire. Clasping her hands behind his neck, she shifted against him and knew another thrust of joy.

  His hand slid between them, his fingers slipping between her thighs. Elianne’s whole body shook at this caress. Lost in what he did to her, she didn’t notice they were no longer afoot until she felt the damp coolness of the grass against her back. His fingers yet sending waves of joy careening over her, Josce lay half atop her. Not that she cared where they rested. Nay, as long as he never ceased what he did, Elianne could have made gravel her bed.

  His mouth lowered to claim the peak of her breast. She cried out and shivered, beyond all thought. Freeing a quiet groan, he shifted to lie atop her. His shaft slipped between her already open thighs as he once more laid his mouth atop hers.

  With his kiss, he begged her to accept him within her. Of their own accord, Elianne’s legs spread to give him what he craved. There was but a memory of yesterday’s pinch as he entered her. Instead, she shook against the wondrous fullness that came from taking him within her.

  Using his mouth to taunt and tease, he shifted atop her, thrusting a little deeper within her. So great was the sensation that flowed through her from his movement that Elianne cried out against his mouth and caught her arms around him. “Again,” she begged. “Move within me again.”

  A breath of a laugh left him. He touched his lips to her ear, sending shivers dancing down her spine. “With the greatest of pleasure,” he whispered, then did her bidding.

  And pleasure it was. Heat spread all the way to her toes. A new urgency took hold of her. At her body’s command, her hips lifted to meet his next thrust. She gasped as her joy expanded yet again.

  Atop her, Josce groaned. There was nothing playful about his kiss when his mouth claimed hers this time. Again he thrust into her. Greedy for more of what his movement made in her, Elianne once more lifted her hips to meet him.

  Josce gasped. Bracing his forearms against the ground, he raised himself above her just a little. Elianne cried out. She needed the wondrous weight of his body atop hers.

  “Don’t leave me,” she begged, reaching up to pull him back down atop her.

  He laughed. Catching her face in his hands, he pressed a kiss to her lips. This was sweet, when more heat was what she craved of him.

  “How can I leave you when you’re driving me gloriously mad with what you do?” he murmured against her mouth.

  That he might be enjoying this as much as she startled Elianne, then it filled her with new power. To think that she, a mere woman, had the ability to drive so powerful a man mad with pleasure. Thus it was that when he again moved within her she once more rose up to meet his thrust with one of her own.

  A low moan left him. He dropped atop her, then began to move in earnest. Joy tumbled atop joy in Elianne with his movement, yet still her body screamed for more. At its urging, her arms around him tightened.

  It wasn’t enough; she needed to be closer still. Lifting her legs, she clasped them about his hips and pulled herself hard against him. Josce cried out, the sound loud enough to echo against the garden walls. His breathing harsh and ragged, he drove into her again and again.

  Of a sudden, and even with her eyes closed, Elianne felt the night sky explode above her. And still, he moved. She clung to him, letting his every thrust carry her into a glorious place she never dreamed existed.

  With a final cry he rolled over, pulling her with him, until she laid atop him. Panting, he caught her face in his hands, kissing her cheek, her brow, her eyelid, the tip of her nose. Between the joy he made in her and the joy in his kisses Elianne laughed.

  “‘Lianne,” he breathed against her mouth. “My astonishing, wondrous ‘Lianne.”

  That sobered her. Easing back in his embrace, she shifted until she could rest her head into the hollow of his shoulder. His heartbeat thudded into her ear.

  “Would that I were yours,” she whispered.

  Holding her close to him, he once more shifted, this time rolling onto his side so they faced each other. Elianne pillowed her head o
n his arm to look up into his face. Behind him the eastern sky lightened in false dawn. It was illumination enough to see his expression was tight. Did she see sadness or longing in his gaze?

  He lifted his free hand to comb his fingers through her hair, brushing strands back behind her ear. “Will you put your arms about me?” he asked quietly. “For the now, I need to feel your heart next to mine.”

  A part of her shattered with his words, leaving behind an ache that was a terrible mix of bitter and sweet. She should leave him. From this moment on, every touch and kiss they shared would make their eventual parting all the more painful. Instead, she put her arms around him. Just as he asked, she held him close to her heart until she slept.

  Dawn’s pinks and golds exploded along the horizon behind Josce and Perrin as they rode up to Knabwell’s walls. As early as the hour was, they weren’t the first to reach the town’s eastern gate this morn. A handful of peasants dressed in brightly colored homespun waited before the city’s massive doorway. A bent old woman carried a great bundle of faggots on her back. One man’s sack held strong cheeses, or so said the pungent stink wafting around him. Another drove an oxcart filled with wheat.

  Halting his horse behind them, Josce glanced at his servant, only to find Perrin watching him in return. Confusion painted his servant’s face. The instant their gazes met Perrin looked down at his horse’s mane, staring at that stiff hair as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

  Worry, chagrin and a touch of very untoward amusement all tumbled in Josce. Such was the price he paid for trying to negate the truth of Sir Adelm’s words. Josce had been vehement yestereven in describing the sheriff’s incompetent, and most likely dastardly, actions to Perrin. At the same time he’d reaffirmed his intent to end du Hommet’s life.

  Aye, and when Perrin awakened this morn and sought out his missing master, where did he find Haydon’s son? Naked in the arms of du Hommet’s daughter at the center of the sheriff’s garden. The only positive thing about all this was that Elianne slept through the discovery.