by Merry Farmer
For a long moment Aubrey and Crispin stood where they were, catching their breath. The sun was going down and the air was growing crisp. Aubrey turned away from Buxton and the insanity of the dais and looked at Crispin. His face was covered in blood and bruises. His shoulders slumped in exhaustion and he swayed on his feet.
It was the damp spot at his side which concerned her the most. The pain flared to Crispin’s awareness as she reached out and pulled his tunic up and his shirt out of his chausses. He tensed and muffled a groan. The pale skin of his torso was littered with angry bruises and blood seeped from a long cut against his ribs on his left side. Aubrey raised a shaking hand to touch it.
“It’s just a flesh wound.” She sighed in relief, gasping through the tears that began to choke her. Her hands went numb as she shook. “It’s hardly more than a scratch!” Sobs wracked her and she came apart. In spite of the jolt of pain it caused, Crispin crushed her into his arms. She clutched his filthy tunic, sobbing against his chest, her whole body shaking in his arms.
For the first time in years Crispin felt strong. “It’s nothing.” He smoothed a scraped hand over her hair, trying in vain not to get blood on her. Her arms held him as though she would never let go. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the top of her head as joy coursed through him.
When she stopped sobbing and shaking and just leaned against him, breath returning to normal as the sunlight faded from the field, he set her on her feet and looked into her swollen, red eyes. “Take me to the castle and clean me up.”
She nodded, understanding that it was a request, a plea, not an order, and took his hand. The townsfolk and peasants were beginning to gather on the arena and a group of musicians was setting up on the dais that the nobles had vacated. The people cleared a path for them as they walked hand in hand from the battle scene and through the city, bowing and deferring to them with respect that neither of them had ever seen before.
They remained silent through the celebrating city, the bustle of the castle courtyard. The main hallway of the castle was crammed with nobles and their retinues, but as they mounted the stairs to the High Tower the noise and chaos faded until they reached the hush of the top floor and Crispin’s room.
Aubrey dropped Crispin’s hand as he shut the door and rushed to the small table that held his washing bowl and pitcher and a towel. She poured water into the bowl as Crispin winced through the pain and leaned against the bedpost. He watched the soft lines and curves of her body as she dropped her cloak to the floor and dipped the towel into the water.
“Come here,” she ordered him.
He obeyed, stepping to the table and sitting against the edge. “How many times are you going to have to tend my wounds?”
“Never again if I have my way.” She glanced up to him and flushed when their eyes met. “Take your shirt off.”
He shrugged out of his tunic then reached down and began to pull his shirt up and over his head. He slowed almost to a stop with a grunt when his bruises and sore muscles made it next to impossible for him to lift it any higher. Aubrey grabbed hold of the shirt and pulled it the rest of the way over his head.
She sucked in a breath when she saw his torso in the light of the fire, bruised, gashed, scarred, masculine. It was hard to know where to begin, hard to know how to touch him without causing him pain. She started with his forehead, cleaning the grime with the damp towel, then followed the line of his hair across his ear and along his cheek. She switched hands and held the side of his face while washing him. Her heart pounded in her chest as the river of liquid fire pooled between her legs and spread through her limbs. He closed his eyes and turned his face in her hand, his lips pressing against her palm.
As she dipped the towel in the water again and wrung it he slid his hands up the sides of her legs and splayed them across her hips. She sucked in a quick breath and started washing the blood from the cut in his side. The cut was long, reaching all the way around to his back and across two of his ribs, but it wasn’t deep.
He ducked his head close to hers, his lips brushing her forehead as she wiped away the blood and sweat from his wound. Her eyes met his smoldering blue ones and his mouth traced over the ridge of her nose to join with hers.
He kissed her lightly, their breath mingling as their tongues danced in exploration. She leaned closer and closed her mouth around his bottom lip, sucking it as she pulled back and wet the towel in the bowl again. She squeezed the towel with trembling hands and slid it across his shoulders and chest. The cool water trickled down the hot skin of his torso and she caught it with her left hand. Her eyes focused on the glimmer of her ring, the bruised, pale skin under her hand as it followed the water’s trail up across the muscles of his chest. Her fingers memorized the lines of his body as her thumb raked his alert nipple.
He caught his breath at her touch. The only word she could find to describe the fire in his eyes was ‘need’. He needed her in ways she was only just coming to understand. His hand traced up her neck, the thump of her pulse beating against his palm. He caressed her jaw as he pulled her closer to pressed his parched lips to her mouth. She opened readily to him, inviting him with a sigh of pleasure as her tongue entwined with his, her teeth raked his lip. His fingers traced to the neckline of her bodice before he plunged his hand against her skin to caress her breast. His palm massaged the tight bud of her nipple until it stood stiff against his touch and she moaned deep in her throat and arched against him.
She could feel the hardness of his desire against her belly and wanted more. She wanted all of him. His mouth left hers with a sigh and journeyed across her jaw, down her neck and to her collarbone, leaving a trail of molten heat in its wake. She would have ripped the laces of her dress open for him if she could have moved her hands from where they dug into his shoulders, towel still clutched tightly.
His hands dropped to caress her bottom, fingers sliding deep between her legs as he lifted her with a sudden, possessive jerk to grind against his erection. She tipped her head back and sighed with pleasure as he caught the lace of her kirtle in his teeth and pulled it loose. Her eyes flew wide and she rubbed her hips harder against him, body throbbing with want, as his mouth and tongue raked her breast where her dress fell loose.
“Crispin,” she panted for more, threading her fingers through his hair.
He straightened and grabbed at the laces of her underdress, pulling them loose enough to push the confining garment over her shoulders. He bunched it in his trembling hands as he yanked it, ignoring the rip that made her gasp and then purr as the cool evening air swirled across her bare skin. He let go of the fabric as its weight pulled it to the floor and spread his hands over the naked flesh of her sides and hips. Her skin was cool over raging hot flesh and he groaned his appreciation when words refused to come.
His hands sought the soft mounds of her breasts again as she fumbled with the ties of his chausses and smallclothes. His mouth captured hers with ferocity as her hands slid across his hips, pushing his chausses down his legs. She reached for the hard length of his erection and he sucked in a breath and her bottom lip as he let himself enjoy the power of her possession for the briefest moment.
“Aubrey,” he whispered her name as he pushed her away. She sighed in protest as her hands slid off of him and he cupped her chin and tilted her head to look into her eyes. “If you touch me like that it will be over much too soon. I have waited so long for this and I want it to last.”
She blinked, eyelids heavy with desire. Her mouth fell open in longing invitation and she leaned towards him. He indulged in another pulverizing kiss before holding her at arm’s length again so that he could pull his boots off and step out of his chausses. She followed suit and shed the remainder of her clothes.
With his clothes tossed aside he closed his hands around her waist and practically tossed her across the bed. He climbed over her, the fierce hunger in his eyes making her ache in anticipation. She welcomed him into her arms digging her fingers into his skin,
ignoring the dirt and sweat and blood as his mouth devoured hers again.
His taste was earthy and spicy, his scent crisp and masculine. She moaned as his chest rubbed against hers, arched her back and lifted a leg over his hip to bring him closer. Reason had long since left her to the driving needs of her body and her heart. She raked her hand over the flexing muscles of his back, reveling in the moan her touch coaxed from him. Knowing that he wanted her as desperately as she wanted him only made her bolder. She traced her foot up the side of his leg, opening her hips wide, not wanting to wait.
With a shuddering groan of real pain Crispin’s weight sagged over her. Her eyes shot open in alarm and her hand raced to cradle his face as he struggled in vain to prop himself over her. “Crispin?” Her voice was thick with passion and worry.
“I….” He met her eyes with love and agony but couldn’t go on.
She glanced at his heaving chest and gasped when she saw her side and stomach dotted with his blood. “Good God, Crispin!” Her heart pounded to her throat as he collapsed to the side and sprawled on his back. She sat beside him, pulling at the bedcovers and yanking a sheet free to press to the slice in his side.
“Too much movement,” he began, grinding his head against the pillow and wincing.
Aubrey worked with the corner of the sheet, pressing and cleaning the wound until the bleeding slowed. “Does it hurt?”
He shook his head, eyes closed. “Aubrey, I’m sorry….”
She ignored him and threw the sheet to the side. “How about now?” Her bottled desire ran free again at the sight of him lying fully naked beside her, still hard.
“No, it-”
She threw her leg over his hips and straddled him, mischief glittering in her eyes. “How about now?”
His eyes snapped to hers in a flash of desire. “No.”
She braced her hands on either side of his shoulders and dipped forward until her tight nipples brushed his chest. Her lips barely touched his. “Now?”
His hands closed over her hips. “No.” He strained up to try to kiss her but she pulled away.
“Now, now,” she scolded, rubbing her nose along his. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
His hand slid between her legs in answer, parting the slick folds of her flesh and stroking the hard nub between. She lost her bravado to the powerful new sensation of his intimate touch and sighed, resting the side of her face against his. Her body ached where he touched her, fire coiling tighter and tighter with each gyrating stroke. When his fingers slid inside of her she gasped and shuddered and let his mouth take hers again as she sank to her elbows and threaded her fingers into his damp hair.
“Crispin,” she moaned his name against his ear, her body eager and tightening under the exquisite torture of his fingers teasing her. “I want you. I want you now.”
“Aubrey,” he moaned her name in answer.
“Show me what to do.”
He slid his hands up her body, pausing to run his thumbs across her nipples, then took her face in his hands. “It might hurt.”
To his surprise she burst into a fit of giggles and sucked a kiss from his lips. She pushed herself to her knees, straddling him so that he could see the full length of her flushed body and the glisten of desire between her legs. The sight of her nearly made him lose control. She grabbed his hand and pressed it to the thick white scar running from her ribs to her hipbone. “This hurt.” She raised an eyebrow at him then reached to close her hand over his rigid cock. “This won’t.”
Love and longing lit his deep blue eyes as he gazed up at her. He clamped his hands over her hips and guided her until the tip of his erection pressed against the wet lips of her opening. She shifted against him with a gasp, closing her hands over his and testing the feeling of him. He panted with the effort of keeping still, letting her find her own way instead of slamming into her as she could see he wanted to. She pressed down, barely drawing him in, eyes alight with surprise at the sensation the motion caused. She pulled back and let out a ragged breath.
He swallowed. “Aubrey, you don’t have to-”
His words faded into a groan as she impaled herself on him, drawing him deep inside of her with an audible gasp that matched his. His control snapped. He thrust his hips up into hers, pushing her up so that he could withdraw and plunge into her again. Her hands tightened over his, her nails digging into his wrists as he repeated the gesture. She caught on, throwing her head back with a cry of pleasure as she rode him.
His hands left her hips and slid up her sweat-slicked body to caress her breasts. She opened her eyes and shifted forward as the rhythm of their joining intensified so that she could look into his eyes. They burned for her, beyond pain and heartbreak, pure love. The sight filled her, swirled with the incredible heat and demanding of their bodies crashing together. With a gasp she was overtaken by wave after glittering wave of pulsating pleasure that started where her body held him and radiated out through her arms and legs, concentrating in her heart.
He let himself go when he felt her convulse, thrusting with one last powerful jolt and a cry that filled her with a whole new wave of desire. Every risk had been worth it to have him like this. His arms folded around her as she went limp with exhaustion on top of him. Her head dropped to his shoulder and her hot, moist breath tickled his neck as she lay spent across his chest. He was still inside of her. That was all that mattered.
They lay entwined and exhausted until their breathing slowed and the cool night air blowing across their sweat-dampened skin grew uncomfortable. She didn’t want him to withdraw from her, but when they moved together to slide under the covers, wrapping in each other’s arms, stealing kisses in spite of exhaustion, she sighed in contentment.
As she settled she saw the bedcovers and gasped. They were flecked with blood.
“I think we ruined your coverlet.”
Crispin laughed and stroked a strand of damp hair away from her face, kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. “I thought it was the bride’s blood that was supposed to stain the sheets on the wedding night.”
His words swirled through her body, pulsing in her heart and the deliciously sore spot between her legs. “It’s not our wedding night, Crispin.”
“Yes it is.” He hushed her with a kiss. She returned it, sliding her leg over his and curling her fingers in his hair. “It is to me.”
She nodded, smiling. “It is then.”
“Aubrey,” he continued, his voice trembling just above a whisper. He hesitated, pressing his lips together and glancing to where his fingers traced the line of her jaw. She smoothed the back of her hand across the flush of his cheek. His eyes drifted up to meet hers. “I love you.”
She gasped as her eyes stung with tears. Why she should cry when her heart swelled with happiness deeper than anything that had ever touched her she didn’t know. She felt the hot trail of an escaping tear race its way down the side of her head as echoing tears came to Crispin’s eyes. “I love you, Crispin.” She meant it with her entire soul. She’d loved him for far longer than she had let herself know.
Chapter Twenty
Aubrey awoke to a chilly room, a sore body, and Crispin’s warmth wrapped around her. She sucked in a long breath and hugged him tighter. Memories of the night before filtered back into her sleepy mind. Crispin grunted as her elbow dug into one of his bruises.
“Sorry!” She pushed herself up on one arm and moved away from him.
A cool swirl of air wafted between them and he grabbed her and drew her against him. “Don’t,” he whispered into her hair.
“But your injured.”
He shook his head and rolled her onto her back, spreading himself over top of her. “I’ve never felt better.”
A smile bloomed on her face at the sparkle in his sleepy blue eyes. She circled her arms around his broad back, lifting a knee when he dipped to kiss her.
“Me too,” she whispered when he let her catch her breath. She arched her back, pressing her hips against him,
eager to relive the ecstasy of the night before.
Crispin laughed as she wriggled and tried to pull away. He stole another kiss. “Aubrey, no.”
“Why not?” She brushed away the rebellious lock of hair that always slipped down over his forehead, heart swelling, body pulsing. “Are you still hurting?”
“No,” he kissed her again, “but you will be.” She raised an eyebrow at him as he gave in and kissed her yet again. His hand strayed across her abdomen, between her legs. She purred at his touch. She could still feel him from the night before. “You’ll be so sore you won’t be able to walk or sit for a week.”
She growled. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
He gave up his tight control and crushed his mouth over hers. She lifted her leg to wrap around his thigh as his hands caressed her and pulled her close.
They ignored the banging on the door at first. Seconds later it flew open with a crash as it hit the wall. Crispin’s body went rock hard as he dropped to protect Aubrey, nearly crushing her in the process. She dug her hands into his shoulders and started as Jack dashed into the room, eyes wide with alarm.
A flash of humor crossed his face as his head snapped away so fast Aubrey thought he would break his neck. “Aw, bloody hell!” he shouted, unable to hide his grin as he faked disgust and held his hands up as if blinded.
“Jack, you had better have one hell of a good excuse-” Crispin roared, shifting to the side with a wince as Aubrey propped herself up behind his back, gathering sheets around her.
Crispin didn’t have a chance to finish his thought before Buxton swaggered into the room. Aubrey gasped and Crispin reached out to put a hand on her side.
