Chained to the Barbarian

by Carol Townend

  The hall stretched away from the Imperial couch, alcove after alcove after alcove. It seemed ridiculous, but the size and emptiness of it—there is no one here but us—made her absurdly self-conscious.

  William’s smile drew her back to him, and he placed the palm of his hand against her cheek. ‘Are we lovers?’

  ‘I…I don’t know.’

  ‘Be my lover, Anna.’

  Anna nodded. Her mouth was dry, she moistened her lips and pulled at the fabric of his undershirt. ‘This next,’ she said.

  Smiling, William dragged it over his head.

  His chest is magnificent, there is no other word for it. William is magnificent.

  Bruises had left faint shadows on his skin, but since coming to the Palace he was already filling out. Muscles were forming where before there had been hollows, his flesh was firming. In a daze of desire, Anna stroked his flank and heard a slight catch in his breath. She explored the muscles on his shoulders, and as she did so she warmed inside—it felt as though she were melting.

  Magnificent. And, for a time, mine.

  ‘Anna…’ He tugged at her skirts.

  Lifting her hips, she allowed him to draw away her gown. Goosebumps whispered over her skin as he untied his chausses. She struggled to keep her breathing even, and if William’s flurried breaths were anything to go by, he was having similar difficulties. She took comfort in that.

  Smiling, she shifted under the sheet, and held it open for him.

  The mattress rustled. Hard, toned flesh met hers. Warm and very male.

  Taken by shyness, she reached for those wide shoulders and pulled him to her, burying her face in his neck so she could breathe him in. William. It made her less nervous when she was breathing him in, his scent was strangely reassuring. William.

  He was stroking her side, kissing her neck, making ripples of delight curl in her belly. She moved closer, pressing her breasts against his chest, the better to enjoy the slight abrasion of his chest hair.

  A warm hand cupped her breast, two warm hands cupped her breasts. While they busied themselves stroking her into a frenzy, his mouth was working its way down the side of her neck. He kissed her collarbone and her breast, he planted kisses all over her front. His mouth, hot and wet, brushed a nipple, his tongue flicked lightly back and forth, back and forth. Making her want, want…

  Animal indeed.

  ‘William, please.’ She heard a shaky laugh, his tongue flickered tantalisingly across her breast and then he closed his lips firmly on her and began to suckle. Fire streaked through her, breast to loins.

  Anna’s eyes widened. Like a baby? He is suckling me like a baby? She moaned. Did the Princess and Prince Peter…? But whatever Prince Peter and Princess Theodora had done together was fast becoming irrelevant. What was relevant was the increasing ache in Anna’s belly. And the discovery that, William’s mouth having freed one of his hands, that hand was free to explore the rest of her…

  Careful fingertips wandered down her side, tracing circles on her ribs. The sunlight was gilding his hair to gold, it was gleaming in tiny flecks in his eyes, eyes that were dark and hungry and fixed only on her.

  Strong legs nudged hers apart. She brought his head back for another kiss, heard his husky whisper as he eased back. ‘Touch me, my lady. Touch me here.’ He leaned over her breast, guiding her hand. ‘Gently.’

  Her fingers closed over him, he was hard and felt very large. Her eyes widened.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You feel so…’

  ‘Animal?’ His lips twitched.

  She smiled back. ‘Yes. And large.’ Her smile faded. ‘Surely it is not possible?’ It will hurt!

  His smile was complacent. He shook his head. ‘It is very possible, trust me. As long as you receive the proper…stimulation, we shall do very well. Here.’

  The proper stimulation?

  His hand moved over hers, guiding her, showing her how he liked to be touched.

  His head pressed into her neck, his groan warmed her ear. Her toes curled. He was nuzzling the side of her breasts and her nipples were begging for his attention. When she moaned, he used his tongue on her.

  ‘Enough,’ he gasped, lifting his head and looking deep into her eyes. ‘It is my turn to pleasure you.’

  Anna nodded as though she understood what he meant, but of course, never having had any personal experience of what went on in the bedchamber between a man and a woman, she had only a hazy idea of what to expect.

  What she didn’t expect was for William’s fingers to slide between her legs and gently push inside. Feeling. Caressing. Making her even hotter than she had been a moment before. Of course, had she thought about it, she should have expected it. Animal. Barbarian.

  A memory flashed in on her. Of someone telling her that barbarian lovers, once tamed, made the best lovers in Christendom. The men of the Varangian Guard, for example, were said to have more stamina than most. Whatever that means.

  Anna had an idea that her barbarian knight from Apulia was about to prove that he was as good a lover as any Varangian.

  ‘There is no need to worry that the hypocaust is broken,’ she heard herself saying. I am babbling.

  Green eyes watched her, they crinkled at the corners. ‘No, indeed.’

  ‘No…oh!…no need for a b-brazier either.’

  What is he doing? William had kissed his way down to her stomach, light touches of his tongue feathered over her belly.

  Hot all over, Anna shifted and writhed. ‘William?’

  ‘Patience, chérie.’

  He placed a row of kisses lower. Lower. His finger moved in and over her, her body had become an instrument and he was playing her.

  ‘Relax, chérie, that’s it. Trust me. Relax and know that I will not hurt you.’

  A chain of kisses was trailed down one thigh and up the other. He kissed the flat of her belly. Keeping her legs open, he shifted down.

  ‘William?’ She raised herself on her elbows, caught between pleasure and shock. That blond head had settled between her legs. He was kissing her in her most secret of places… ‘William, no!’

  He took no notice, his tongue was too busy exploring. His tongue!

  Anna gave a shuddering breath. He is a barbarian. Only a barbarian would do such a thing. And I am going to die of delight. ‘William…?’

  His head lifted, warm fingers smoothed over her, playing, teasing. ‘Mmm?’

  She collapsed back against the pillows. He had stopped kissing her intimate places and, shamelessly, she wanted him to continue. ‘Is that allowed?’ Never had she heard of such a thing.

  His eyes danced. ‘We are going to be married, are we not?’

  ‘Yes,’ she managed, wishing she had the nerve to push his head back to where it had been only moments ago.

  ‘You like it?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  His head lowered. Anna sighed. She was powerless to prevent the moan of relief when his mouth found her. She gasped. She writhed. There was something, something else…only she could not name it and it lay just beyond her reach. If only he will do that for a moment or two more…perhaps then…perhaps then…

  Rising on his forearms, he kissed his way back to her mouth. She held him close, stroking that large male body. She licked his ear and was nibbling his neck when she felt him nudging into her.

  After a moment he stopped, leaning on his elbows to watch her. He is keeping his weight off me. Anna was not sure she wanted him to keep his weight off her. His cheeks were flushed. The pressure increased. She felt a tight, heavy fullness pressing into her, and then he rocked back and the pressure eased. ‘Too tight?’ he asked, voice breathless.

  ‘A little.’

  He nodded and then he was kissing his way back down her body—breast, nipples, navel, thighs—until his lips found the core of her. Making her writhe, the barbarian. Making her want…want…

  The ache of want remained when he licked his way back and took her lips in the sweetest kiss. Again that heavy ful
lness nudged into her, a little farther this time.

  He pulled back. ‘Better?’

  ‘Mmm. William, please…!’ Grasping him firmly by the hips, sensing that only this would give her the satisfaction she was craving, Anna pulled him onto her. There was a slight resistance and then he was fully inside, hard and firm and warm.

  ‘All right, Anna? No pain?’ He was gently biting her ear, his breath harsh and laboured.

  ‘No pain.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘No pain, only…’

  ‘Only…?’

  She frowned. ‘I hoped there would be…more.’

  ‘Oh, there will be.’ Mouth curving, he eased away and rocked back in. Eased and rocked. Her belly swooped. ‘Anna. Chérie.’ He reached between them. Ease, rock, ease, rock. ‘Still no pain? I am not too large?’

  When she shook her head, her hair flew out across the pillow. ‘Mmm.’

  The rhythm William set was a joy to follow. As they moved together, the sensations built with every stroke and every kiss.

  Barbarian. Animal.

  William’s eyes were dark and intense, his hair gleamed gold in a slanting shaft of light, his breathing was flurried. He has entered a place beyond speech. He pushed, she pulled, the sensations built and built…

  A dazzle of sensation took her, like a starburst.

  William cried out. He muttered something intelligible, but already he was coming back from the place beyond words, because she thought she heard her name.

  ‘Anna.’

  She was struggling to form words herself—it would seem her barbarian lover had lifted her far out of herself. The man had done the most unspeakable things to her body and she had loved it. Loved it.

  I love him! I loved it because I love him.

  Gripped by a languor that Anna realised must be the languor of love, she cupped that blond head with her hands and held him to her. His heart thumped against hers.

  He is catching his breath, in a moment he will move.

  Anna shivered. The bright starburst was fading and trailing in its wake came a realisation that was cold and dark. William does not love me. I forced him to this. He took my body because he wants his freedom, he took my body to prove that I do not have all the power.

  He lifted his head and groaned. Rolling on to his back, he drew the sheet over them. ‘There is no going back now, my lady.’

  ‘No, there is no going back.’ Her heart was a lump of ice.

  I love him, I loved him from the first moment I saw him. How did I not realise? Sweet Virgin, I should never have forced him to this. No man, particularly a Frankish knight, likes to be forced. Have I lost him?

  Chapter Thirteen

  William rose from the Imperial couch and began to dress, he was all consideration. ‘Wine, my lady?’ he asked, pulling on his chausses.

  ‘Please.’

  He filled a silver-rimmed drinking horn. Despite her distress, Anna could not but admire the way his wide shoulders tapered down to that narrow waist. The play of muscles in his arms and the fall of his hair were equally intriguing. For a time this man is mine. But only for a time…

  Pensively, she took the wine. A heap of cushions was piled behind her, a sheet was tucked demurely over her breasts. She hoped she looked calmer than she felt.

  I trust him. William is a Frank, yet of all the men in the Palace he is the only man I could rely on to marry me after he had taken my virginity. He is a man of honour, deep honour.

  Once we are married I do not want to lose him, but he is so determined to return to Apulia. There must be something I can do to convince him to stay, there must be something…

  Yet it seemed impossible. Anna had sworn to release him and release him she must, he would come to hate her if she even thought about trying to bind him here. And what would be the point in keeping him as her husband if all he felt was hate? Can you learn to trust me, William? Can you learn to love? Love and trust, Anna was coming to realise, were inextricably entwined. From what William had revealed about his past, he didn’t seem to have been given much reason to trust others. His father had denied his existence, his mother had secreted herself behind a convent wall.

  William is a noble and honourable man, I know he is capable of becoming a loving man. If I prove that I trust him, can he learn to love me?

  She refused to let him go without a fight.

  * * *

  William could not help but smile. Anna looked like an Empress back in the decadent days of the Roman Empire. The way she was reclining on that couch, mouth pink from kissing, hair tumbling about her naked shoulders, breasts almost, but not quite, peeping out from under that sheet…

  Something about the set of her mouth, however—it was turned down at the corners—made his smile fall away. She had enjoyed the act of love, so what was the matter?

  The generous way Anna had given herself completely to him, without holding back, had pleased him beyond words. She had relished their joining as much as he had done.

  For his part, the act of love with Anna had moved him beyond anything in his experience. It had not been all pleasure though, he was surprised to find their union had left him with a tightness in his chest that he could not account for. Most likely it could be explained away as the pain of desire—he wanted her again.

  Continuing desire had better be the cause of the tightness, because if it was not desire, what in hell was it? Conflicting thoughts were tugging him this way and that—it was most irritating. There was no point chasing rainbows, no point longing for something that did not exist. Impatient with himself, he thrust the thoughts aside. This discomfort was minor, just a moment of confusion which, like his desire for her, would soon pass.

  What was important was Anna, and whatever was causing her to purse her lips in that way. She had been a virgin but he knew she had found her pleasure. What was she worrying about? Was she regretting giving her virginity to a Frank? A slave? Did she feel that he had demeaned her?

  ‘William?’

  ‘My lady?’ When her mouth eased into a smile, the sense of discomfort eased.

  ‘I think, since we are to be married, you must call me Anna.’

  He nodded. I want her again—what is she thinking? The sheet was slipping, revealing the delightful curve of her breasts. A pulse throbbed in his loins.

  ‘Anna, you are…most desirable.’ Finding himself back at the couch, William sat and dropped a light kiss on her nose. One of his hands, without conscious thought, pulled the sheet clear of her body and took possession of a breast. Instantly, the nipple hardened. ‘Chérie, what were you thinking about a moment ago?’

  A tiny crease appeared in her brow. ‘I forget.’ She shrugged, and that quiet smile appeared. ‘I know what I am thinking now…’

  ‘What’s that?’ Leaning in, William nuzzled her neck, he needed to breathe her in. Spring. Jasmine. Anna.

  ‘Men in the Varangian Guard are said to have great…staying power.’ Her voice was breathy, her eyes speculative. ‘I was wondering if that is the same with all barbarians.’

  Startled, William lifted his head. A delicate hand was at the fastening of his chausses, she was reaching for the part of him that was straining most eagerly towards her. It was as though she wanted…as though she was feeling the pain of renewed desire as much as he. ‘Anna?’

  ‘Well? Are you able to prove that all barbarians are made that way?’

  Grinning, William whisked the silver-rimmed beaker from her fingers and dragged the sheet clear of the couch. ‘Now that, chérie, is a challenge I cannot resist.’

  * * *

  By the time they had risen from the couch and had dressed, shadows were emerging from the corners of the hall. Anna found candles among the supplies that Constantine had brought and set them up everywhere.

  Small constellations flickered in each of the alcoves, light flared from the rusting wall sconces, candles glowed on the floor where they had been placed directly on the mosaics in a pool of their own wax. In the dusk, with the glitter of light in e
very cranny, the Hall of the Nineteen Couches had regained something of its lost grandeur.

  ‘There!’ she said, lighting the last candle.

  ‘Candles on the floor are dangerous,’ William said. ‘Your skirts…’

  She looked across. ‘There is plenty of room, I shall keep well clear of the flames. In any case, I shall not be staying.’

  Her hair had been drawn back in a simple style, her veil was neatly back in place. Idly, William wondered what her maid would say when she saw the havoc he had wrought on the beautiful hair beneath the veil. Anna had tried, and failed, to replicate the complicated arrangement. ‘William, I have to return to the Palace tonight.’

  ‘I know.’ William was satisfied physically, in truth, he felt utterly sated. He was also more than a little stunned by the joy they had taken in each other. Anna had been innocent before they had come together on the Imperial couch and yet she had met him, kiss for kiss, caress for caress. He had never thought to find a woman like her. She is my match.

  Shaking his head at the unwonted sentimentality, he went on watching her. He was physically satisfied and yet…that sense of discomfort lingered. Never had he felt so conflicted.

  Why did he feel this way?

  Anna was moving towards the door. With an elegant court slipper, she nudged the block of stone he had placed in front of it. ‘William, please could you move this?’

  William went to do as she asked. The night air was cool. Torches had been set up near the portico, yellow flames curled and waved.

  ‘My thanks, William.’

  She pressed his hand and gave him one of her subtle, beguiling smiles. Silently, he watched as she went out, picking her way across the rubble near the threshold.

  ‘Sergeant?’

  ‘My lady?’

  ‘I thank you for your assistance. I have a further task for you.’

  ‘My lady?’

  That elegantly shod foot touched the heap of masonry. ‘Clear this from the doorway, if you please. Then you and your men may return to your quarters. I no longer require your…escort.’

  The Varangian sergeant looked doubtfully at William. ‘You are certain, my lady?’