Velvet Touch

by Catherine Archer

  Fellis pressed her hands together tightly. “I cannot tell Father, not now with the marriage contract still unsigned. He looks for any reason to cry a halt to the proceedings. Besides, Wynn would not even listen to him.”

  “Then you must go to Sir Stephen. You said he and Wynn ap Dafydd are on good terms. Mayhap he can convince the Welshman of the truth before it is too late.”

  Fellis stood, biting her lips. Of course she must go to Stephen. He was the only one who had any hope of rectifying the situation. Surely, with his ability to reason and handle difficulties with aplomb, he would be able to make it aright.

  She did not even question her unshakable faith in the knight. She believed in Stephen utterly and without reservation.

  Fellis knew that she would have to meet with him in secret. She wanted her father to get no wind of this.

  She would have to go to his chamber after everyone else had found their rest. She realized, as she thought this, that Stephen might misinterpret her actions and refuse to speak with her. She would simply have to chance that possibility.

  Pray God, he would not turn her away before she had an opportunity to explain.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lying in her bed, Fellis knew what she had to do. All that delayed her now was listening for the castle to settle for the night.

  She only wished that Wynn was not the catalyst for her nocturnal visit to Stephen’s chamber. Fellis would rather have been going there for more personal reasons.

  When all was quiet, Fellis rose from her bed, trying not to waken her sleeping grandmother, and reached for the black velvet robe that lay across the end of the bed.

  With silent deliberation she went to the door of her chamber and opened it. It made not a sound.

  From the bed she heard her grandmother’s voice. “Go with God, child.”

  Fellis paused without looking around. “Thank you, Grandmother.” Then she let herself out, closing the portal gently behind her.

  Fellis made no effort to hide her presence in the hallway. She did not hesitate at the entrance of Stephen’s chamber but simply pushed it open.

  The sight that met her eyes fair took her breath away.

  Stephen sat before a softly glowing fire, seeming as if his mind were far away from this place. Her gaze dropped to the bare expanse of his golden chest and she knew a tightening in her lower belly. He wore nothing save his drawers, and her eager gaze roved over his flat stomach and narrow hips, then sought out the smoothly muscled curves of his long, powerful legs, one of which was drawn up so that he might rest his elbow upon his knee. The firelight played on his hair and the golden skin that she so longed to touch.

  But she lowered her gaze, knowing she had no right to touch him. Her fingers tangled in the velvet of her robe.

  As he looked up, she raised her chin, knowing she must get her traitorous thoughts under control.

  As it had all the nights since Wynn had officially agreed to wed Fellis, sleep eluded Stephen.

  He was startled by the opening of the door.

  Joy, mixed with horror, exploded inside the knight as he saw Fellis there, her glorious hair swirling about her in a silken curtain. He rose, clenching his hands at his sides as he fought the chaotic emotions. “What do you here?”

  But even as he spoke, his belly tightened at the sight of her beauty. As she took a step forward, his gaze was drawn to the open neck of her velvet robe, the motion causing the curve of her high firm breasts, just visible above the neck of her night rail, to be thrown into the firelight. His manhood throbbed and swelled and Stephen wished he was wearing more than just his drawers, for he knew his arousal must be evident to her.

  She held out a delicate white hand. “Do not send me away. I must speak with you.”

  Stephen could think of no reply, for the truth was that he knew he loved her as darkness loved the light. She was everything to him and since the day when he had come into this very room and kissed her, the day she had offered herself so sweetly, he had thought of nothing else but having her. Not just for one night but for always. Stephen wanted to beg her to go away with him, somewhere, anywhere that they could be together to share their love openly.

  He found his mind dwelling on the fact that he had distant relations in Scotland who would surely take them in and give him a position.

  But he knew such thinking was nothing short of sheer madness. Fellis was a gentlewoman, and the idea of asking such a thing of her was unworthy. She deserved so much better than he would be able to give her as a rebel to the crown. He was sure then even the moneys left to him by his grandmother would be forfeit.

  Nay, he could not even think it.

  But here she was, looking so lovely that he was robbed of his ability to think. He raised his gaze to her face and found that she was indeed aware of his arousal, for her blue eyes had darkened to cobalt and, as she looked up to meet his gaze, her lids were heavy with unmistakable desire.

  She came forward. “Stephen…I…” But her hungry eyes had dropped to rove over his chest. She stopped mere inches from him.

  Fellis, swallowed, and ran her tongue over her lips. “I…" She began again, then paused as if having some difficulty with her train of thought. Her gaze dipped lower still. “Oh…Stephen,” she whispered.

  Stephen groaned aloud, reaching for her even as he felt himself stiffen further. His hot mouth found hers and her lips parted beneath his as she kissed him with a fierceness that surprised him even as the intensity of her response played further havoc on his control.

  Fellis was lost completely. Everything but this man and this moment was forgotten. There was no way for Stephen to hide his desire for her now. She was achingly aware of the fact that he wanted her as she did him. Why should they not do what they both wanted so desperately?

  Her breasts swelled against the hard, smooth expanse of his chest. Fellis knew a growing need to free them so that there was no barrier between her aching flesh and his.

  She raised one hand and tore at the front of her robe, pulling it aside, then groaned in frustration when her fingers met the barrier of her thin night rail. Fragile though the fabric might be, it was too much to lie betwixt them.

  Realizing what she was about, Stephen tore his mouth from hers. “Nay,” he said, “It is wrong. We cannot.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes dark with passion, making no effort to cover her near nakedness. Cocking her head to one side, her silver hair gliding like liquid silk over the black velvet robe she wore, she slowly slid it back off her delicate shoulders. “Why is it wrong, Stephen? Who would we harm?”

  Stephen’s hot gaze scorched her as it found her breasts, and her nipples hardened in response. He made a hoarse sound in the back of his throat and she let the robe drop to the floor.

  His response made her bold. “I do not believe it is because you do not want me. After that day in the wood…" She did blush now as she spoke of the time he had caressed her so intimately in the wood. “Well…the way you touched my ankle and then…I thought that you might actually be the one person who was not repulsed by my deformity. Mayhap I was wrong in thinking that.”

  Stephen raised his eyes to her face. Fiercely he shook his head to stop her from going on. “Repulsed by you. That is as far from the truth as anything could be.”

  Fellis looked at him closely, then as if what she saw encouraged her, she raised her slender fingers to place them on his chest. “Then pray tell me,” she asked with a smile as seductive as any courtesan’s, “why should we be denied this?”

  Her cool fingers fair burned him where they lay against his flesh. Stephen ached to take the lushly curved mouth with his own. This Fellis was not one that he had known before, but a woman who knew what she desired, a woman who could openly make her desires known to a man. She was not the child they’d all taken her to be.

  Every vibrating nerve in his body told Stephen he had been a fool to decide Fellis was not woman enough to know that she truly wanted him. He’d been mad to keep hims
elf apart from her because he had judged her too innocent to make a rational choice about being with him.

  Or had he been wrong to think her too innocent? Trying desperately to think clearly, Stephen wiped a hand over his face.

  He knew he had to try to make her understand some of what was in his mind. “I know not what is right, Fellis. I only know that I want you, have wanted you from the moment I saw you. ’Tis all I think of night after night, you, and having you here in this bed. I have thought of precious little else since the first day I came here.”

  He looked at her, his eyes pleading with her to understand what he was about to tell her. “When I was looking for the castle, I took a shortcut through the wood. I became lost.” He watched as uncertainty crept into her face. “I had no intent to spy on you. It is just that when I saw you there in the water, I could not think, could not reason enough to simply turn and go as honor dictated.” He spread his hands. “I have been mad with longing for you from that first moment. I had seen you, beautiful, perfect, and compelling enough to fill my thoughts both day and night with your image and no other.”

  Even as he watched, Fellis’s eyes darkened to a startling shade of blue that was near purple. She reached out and took his hand, bringing it to her breast. “Then pray do not hold yourself from me another moment.”

  Stephen could not breathe, his heart was pounding so hard, and he closed his eyes as she pressed his hand to the fullness of that perfect breast. Then he felt the nipple pucker and harden beneath his palm and he was lost.

  Still not opening his eyes, Stephen molded her supple flesh with his fingers, reaching out to take the other in an equally firm but gentle caress. Her skin was smooth as cream and cool in his hands, making his own body heat in reaction to the feel of her.

  He heard Fellis sigh and opened his lids. Her eyes had drifted closed and her head was tilted back to expose the tender white flesh of her throat. Her pink lips were slightly parted as her breathing quickened.

  Stephen could not resist this invitation, nor did he even wish to try anymore. For good or ill, this moment was theirs and theirs alone. Heaven help him, he meant to live it as if it were his last.

  Which, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, it might as well be.

  There were no words to relay what was inside him, the pain and the joy of this moment. So he told her nothing of how desperately he wished above all else that she was his and not another man’s. Stephen simply took her into his arms, allowing his lips to say all that was in his heart.

  She responded by melding herself to the length of him, pressing those perfect, soft curves to his hard planes and muscles. Everywhere her body touched him he felt the tingling awareness of desire.

  Fellis moaned, opening her mouth as Stephen’s tongue sought entry to her softness. She was all sweet and moist and tasted of mint. He deepened the kiss, allowing his hands to slide down her back, her skin warm and inviting through the delicate fabric of her gown. Gently but inexorably he pulled her against his rising need.

  She pressed back, her hips molding to him without hesitation, as if she welcomed the feel of him against her. Stephen knew a building heat inside him, a heat that threatened to engulf him, firing his blood and making his heart pound in his chest.

  Fellis was achingly aware of the hard-muscled length of the man who held her in his arms. She kissed him with every bit of pent-up longing inside her.

  When Stephen’s strong hands found her bottom and lifted her against him, she raised her own fingers to tangle in his auburn hair, so filled with life and heat in the light from the fire. She could only think of him, Stephen, and how very much she had wanted him.

  She rocked against him, feeling a pooling velvety heat at the juncture of her thighs. Fellis wrapped her legs around his hips, sobbing her pleasure as that aching part of her came into closer contact with his maleness.

  But though Stephen reveled in her responses to him, he was frustrated by the barrier of their clothing. The drawers and gossamer-thin gown that had seemed as naught when he was trying to resist her now prevented him from finding a home for the desire that raged inside him.

  When she grasped his shoulders and moved her hips against his, Stephen understood that Fellis too felt his frustration. He wanted above all else to soothe that craving.

  Fellis was weak with the hot pulse of passion inside her and she was grateful that she could trust Stephen’s strong arms to support her. She could not have relied on her own legs to do so for they quivered uncontrollably.

  When he moved she cried out, “Nay,” holding him to her in her fear that he would put her aside.

  She need not have feared. He whispered hoarsely, “The bed, Fellis.”

  “Yes.” She nodded, kissing him wildly as he took her there.

  He laid her down gently despite the torrent that drove him to satisfy his own need without delay. Drawing back, he removed his drawers, the simple task proving more difficult than he would have imagined, due to the unsteadiness of his hands.

  He at last freed himself and, after dropping the garment to the floor, he looked up to see her eyes upon him, heavy lidded and damp with desire.

  She held out her arms and he came into them.

  He kissed her slowly, lingeringly, wishing to make this moment perfect for her.

  Fellis felt herself slipping down into a void of heat and fire, knowing only longing that continued to build inside her. When Stephen reached to take her gown over her head, Fellis could not even assist him. She was only impatient for him to come back to her. When he did, as his mouth found the peak of her breast, she rocked toward him and cried, “Nay, no more. Make me feel the way you did before. Please, I can stand no more of this, for surely I shall die of the pleasure.”

  And neither could he wait another moment. Positioning himself over her, Stephen prodded at that silken gateway betwixt her legs. He held back, biting the inside of his cheek with the strain of it. He had no wish to hurt her, for no matter how eager, Fellis was a virgin.

  As if impatient with his hesitation, Fellis rose up to meet him, pulling him down to her. “Stephen.”

  He closed his eyes, drawing on his will, as he allowed himself only a minute movement. “I do not wish to hurt you more than I must.”

  With a cry of frustration, she lifted her hips, impaling herself upon him. Her lids flew open at the burning sensation as her maidenhood tore. The discomfort quickly became a far distant memory as she felt the sheer joy of being filled by him, Stephen, the man she loved.

  He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, forgetting his own need in seeing her scowl of pain. “I have hurt you.”

  She raised up to kiss his lips. “The pain is gone now. And gladly. ’Twas a gift that I wished to give you and no other.” She pushed back into the bed to look at him then and he saw that the passion had not left her gaze. “Now will you love me?”

  He groaned, his tight hold on himself breaking. Closing his eyes, he began to move inside her, each stroke bringing them closer to the fulfillment they sought.

  Her breathing became shallower, and her head was thrown back with abandon as she found the rhythm without coaxing. She made no effort to hide the depth of her pleasure and that made his own all the more intense. Then she was crying out his name, “Stephen, Stephen, Stephen.” And he could no longer hold back the tide of his own ecstasy. He felt himself explode inside her as wave after pulsing wave took him to the sky and beyond.

  Stephen felt the contractions of her fulfillment ease even as he became aware of himself and where he was once more.

  But when he opened his eyes and looked down at Fellis he found that, unlike the other times when he had lain with a woman, he felt no immediate disconnection to her. There was no feeling of sliding back into himself.

  With Fellis, he felt joined in a way that went far beyond the physical. Gazing into her eyes, it was as if there was no separation of bone and flesh. There were only their eyes, their souls entwined and enmeshed as no other lovers before or aft
er them.

  Even when he moved to lie beside her, the connection remained. He reached to pull her against him, cradling her head on his shoulder.

  She gave a sigh of unadulterated sensuality, snuggled against him and closed her eyes. She yawned. “I feel so good, so happy,” she murmured. Her head tilted to the side and she was asleep.

  It was at that moment that Stephen knew he could not let her go. Not even for the wishes of a king.

  Come what may, Stephen wanted this woman for his own, for now and all time to come. He could not stand by and watch her marry another man. She would never marry any man but himself.

  He had once thought that he could not allow himself to love because that love might bring him pain, now he knew he could not keep from loving. To do so would be to deprive himself of Fellis, of every moment he was blessed to spend with her.

  Having made that determination within himself, how was he to solve their other problems? The most difficult being that of her proposed marriage to Wynn. King Edward had decreed the union take place, but he had done so because of the strife in the region.

  If Stephen was to come up with another solution to the problem, would King Edward’s desires be satisfied? Stephen’s jaw flexed. He must. Stephen knew that Wynn had come to trust him to some extent and that that trust would continue to build if given time. He also knew that such a state did not exist between Lord Richard and the Welshman.

  What then, if Stephen was to treat with Wynn directly? As Fellis’s husband and Lord Richard’s heir, Stephen could do so. He frowned wondering how the baron would accept such a proposal. Unconsciously he raised his brows arrogantly. He was of a fine and noble family. It was true he was a second son, but he was not impoverished, and Lord Richard had need of a son-in-law who would be able to give all of his alliance to Malvern and its problems. Then the knight smiled mockingly. Surely he would be preferable to Wynn ap Dafydd, whom Lord Grayson had never made any pretext of accepting for any reason other than that he must.

  The more he considered the more reasonable the notions that were teeming in his head appeared. Wynn did not want Fellis, and she did not want him. Lord Richard did not welcome Wynn, but seemed to have some tolerance for Stephen. As did Wynn.