Vow of Seduction

by Angela Johnson

  “Kat?”

  “Hush. Do not say a word,” her throaty voice demanded of him.

  Alex gazed at Kat in amazement. She was absolutely beautiful, with her hair slightly mussed, her silvery eyes feral and her cheeks flushed with desire. He reached out to her, but she shook her head, biting her plump lower lip. Christ, she was starting to get skittish and was about to bolt.

  Before he could think of something to say to change her mind, she turned and entered the bedchamber. Holding the velvet curtain in her hand, she looked back at him, her gaze hot. “Are you coming?” The curtain dropped behind her, swishing like the sway of her deliciously dimpled derriere.

  He was so coming.

  Chapter 19

  Alex strode into the bedchamber, his gaze unerringly finding Kat at the foot of the huge canopy bed in the middle of the room. It was dark, but the brazier’s lit coals illuminated her shapely body with a shimmer of gold. His heart skipped a beat and then began beating double time.

  Grabbing her hand, he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her, his mouth hard and demanding. She clung to his arms and returned the kiss, shoving her tongue against his as he probed deep into her mouth. The melting kiss went on and on. Until she tore herself from his arms and stepped back. The back of her knees hit the bed.

  God, what a woman she is. Alex savored the tall, svelte beauty of his wife’s stunning body. No longer the slender, budding virgin he took to bed on their wedding night, Kat was full-breasted. Her amazing height showing to advantage her perfectly proportioned breasts, narrow waist, lovely rounded hips, and long legs.

  He ran his gaze up her legs now, admiring her firm thighs, from riding no doubt, then higher to stare at the lush black curls guarding her entry. Alex groaned. Blood surged hard and fast to his groin, making his erection ache. It thrust upward against his stomach and grazed his navel beneath his linen braies, seeking freedom.

  Her eyes aglow, Kat dropped to her knees, shoved up his shirt, and began unlacing the points of his hose. Her fingers were quick and nimble at her task. His shirt clung irritatingly to his sensitized skin. Alex hurriedly tugged it over his head and tossed it on the floor just as she drew his braies and hose down.

  His shaft sprang free and Kat licked her lips. Half groan, half growl escaped him. Her hot breath wafted across his stomach, nearly driving him to his knees. But he continued to stand and stepped out of his undergarments with her assistance.

  When he would have reached down to help her up, she shook her head again. “Just look. Feel,” she said, her voice low and seductive.

  She proceeded to wrap her hand around his thick flesh and explore the length of him, squeezing and then releasing him. He inhaled sharply at the unbearable pleasure. Soon she added her other hand, searching between his legs, shaping and rubbing his ballocks. His flesh tightened in ecstasy at her dual caress, untutored though it was.

  Eyes closed, he was wondering how much longer he could control himself when her wet tongue stroked his length. His cock jerked. He opened his eyes and watched as she licked the drop of moisture that seeped from the tip.

  Groaning, he clutched her hair and tipped her face up to him. “Kat, what are you doing? You don’t have to do this.”

  “I’m tasting you as you did me. Do you not like it?”

  “Of course. I am a man, am I not?”

  She laughed, the seductive sound shooting straight to his heart and lower still. “Then why are you complaining?”

  Not waiting for his reply, she dipped her head and this time took him completely inside her hot mouth. “Oh God,” he cried out. Why was he complaining? Alex gave over to the sensation, guiding her in her endeavors, showing her how he liked it, while he held firmly onto whatever command of himself he retained.

  Kat reveled in her newfound daring; for once she was in control. Experimenting, she used her tongue and lips and teeth, alternately licking and sucking his member. She must be doing it aright, for clutching her shoulders, he began arching into her mouth, probing deeper, his excited groans filling the cool room.

  But Alex was not the only one aroused. She dug her fingers into his firm flanks, marveling at the wicked feel of his erect flesh in her mouth, her own essence slicking her entry, ready for his possession. As though he read her thoughts, Alex pulled away abruptly and tugged her to her feet. His eyes burning into hers, he lifted her behind her thighs and spread them as he laid her down on the bed. Thrilled at his loss of restraint, Kat hooked her arms around his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her moist center throbbing, she pressed against his upthrust shaft.

  Obliging her, Alex drove inside with one quick thrust. Kat cried out in pain and ecstasy and wonderment.

  Alex stilled. “Christ, Kat, did I hurt you?”

  “Nay.” Her joy at the feel of him inside her overrode any discomfort. To prove she was all right, she wiggled her hips, moaning at the exquisite feel of him inside her.

  Alex groaned. “Oh God, Kat, you feel incredible,” he said, staring into her eyes. His admission embarrassed her and she closed her eyes. “Look at me, Kat. I want you to feel you can say or do aught that gives you pleasure when we are private. I want no deception between us.”

  Kat raised her gaze to his and held it. “Aye, you are right.” Then she smiled boldly, unwilling to give him the edge. “So what are you waiting for?”

  What am I waiting for?

  Alex returned her smile and pulled out of her slowly to the very tip, then plunged in deep. Kat cried out, wide-eyed. Her heat scorched him, squeezed him to the point of pain. She dropped her hands to the mattress and clutched the bedclothes beside her hips.

  Their bodies joined, her hips draped on the edge of the bed, Alex stood up over her. He stared at the beautiful wanton sprawled on the bed smiling seductively up at him, their black groin hair merging as one where he was buried to the hilt.

  Then he unclasped her legs from his waist and hooked them over his shoulders. Impossibly, he slid in deeper. She moaned softly, mingling with his ragged groan. Clutching her hips for purchase, he lunged into her quivering flesh again. He began a slow cadence, but with his pleasure too long delayed, her hot depths pulling him back in, he soon forgot finesse. Driving into her again and again, he spiraled out of control, releasing the wildness that had been building up with each carnal encounter.

  He was afraid his savagery might scare her, but she went wild, raising her hips clear off the bed to meet each of his downward strokes, their flesh slapping like waves upon the shore. It was as if the tide had at last been released and there was no stopping it ever again; the untamed, primitive rhythm of their coupling was more exciting than any practiced seduction.

  He tried to wait for her before he took his own pleasure, but her panting moans and erotic cries drove him over the edge.

  “Look at me, Kat.”

  She opened her eyes, their glittering silver hue glazed with excitement. He held them captive, pumping uncontrollably inside her. Then her tight passage squeezed him like a fist, unmanning him. His seed surged into his cock, his flesh aching and tingling with the fullness. “Come with me, Kat. Now!”

  He shouted out as his essence exploded inside her. Simultaneously, her honey-drenched muscles contracted tightly around his shaft again and again, drawing out his pleasure. He watched her eyes widen, elated to hear her excited cries mingle with his groans of satisfaction.

  “Oh God, oh God,” Kat cried out as her flesh throbbed and her honey flowed, the little contractions inside her milking his seed into her womb. She felt its hot spurt, while enticing ripples of pleasure seared her flesh. Then his jerking movements subsided and he collapsed on top of her.

  Smiling in satisfaction, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal, Kat dropped her hands to his sweaty buttocks and caressed him, enjoying the supple, muscular flesh. Alex’s lips clung to hers in benediction as he skimmed his hand down her side slowly, brushing her outer breast. Then he rolled off her, his relaxed shaft slipping free, and turned onto his
side so they were face to face. He grasped her right hand in his and weaved his fingers through hers.

  She raised her eyes to his. The black of his pupils nearly engulfed his eyes, leaving only a narrow ring of blue.

  He smiled, pleased. “That was amazing, Kat.”

  She swallowed, pleased at his compliment, but…

  “Just because we—”

  Tenderly, he brushed a strand of her hair from her cheek. “I know.”

  “And it does not mean I have—”

  “Of course, I would never assume aught of you.”

  Hope? Aye. Assume? Never.

  She continued. “It just means I have certain needs. That I indulged them, you should not infer I wish to reconcile with you. I need more time.”

  Certain needs? Alex wondered if she had no more feeling for him than an eager mare for a willing stallion.

  Certain needs? Kat wondered where that idea sprang from and then decided to brave it out. “So long as you understand that, we may continue as we are.”

  “As we are?” he growled. “I take that to mean we shall continue satisfying our mutual needs together, till such time as our bargain is fulfilled.”

  “Aye, you understand it aright.” She frowned, unsure whether he was angry or aroused.

  I just hope I have not made a huge tactical error, she thought.

  Alex rolled over on top of her and spread her thighs, his gaze feral, dominant, ruthless.

  Kat gasped in surprise. “What are you doing?” she squeaked out. “Oh my.” Such inadequate words for such an impressive specimen of maleness, for Alex was hard again.

  “Indeed, my needs are great. And I don’t intend to waste a moment of the time remaining to us.”

  With one exquisite stroke, he drove inside her. Kat cried out, the pleasure intense. It was as if a great dam burst inside her and her passion, released after a long dormant winter, could no longer be checked. He kissed her, their hips moving in a wild frenzy, their panting breaths filling their cozy bower in the curtained bed. Their hearts one beat.

  When the explosion came it was swift, merciless, shaking Kat to the core. But her last thought as she drifted off to sleep was how wonderful she felt wrapped in Alex’s strong arms.

  Alex woke the following morning feeling content for the first time in a very long while. He lay in a clean sweet-smelling, soft feather mattress as rosy light shimmered through an opening in the bed curtains. But his contentment stemmed from Kat. Soft and warm, she snuggled up against his backside. When she pressed her lips to a thick scar on the back of his shoulder, he stiffened and turned to face her.

  “You need not be exposed to such ugliness.”

  Her gaze softened with tenderness. “Your scars, like your memories, are a part of you, Alex. I don’t want you to keep any part of you hidden from me.”

  She smiled and rolled on top of him. Her hair cascaded over him as she bent down and kissed his nipple below the round puckered scar on his shoulder. He groaned, even as guilt reared once again.

  “If I am to commit to our marriage, there can be no lies between us, nor deception. I want an open and honest relationship, where you can tell me anything.”

  Her smile turned wicked and she reached around behind her and grabbed his cock. Squeezing him gently, she slid her hand up and down his shaft in a languid motion. Heat exploded, he grew erect. A deep moan escaped him and he surged up into her hand with a sharp thrust.

  Kat released him and shimmied down his body. She spread his thighs, knelt between them, and then skimmed her fingernails down his chest, over his stomach and into the curls at his groin. Teasing him, she combed through the curls and tugged. Her eyes glittered, and she clasped his cock in her hand. Hot breath seared his flesh. Then she licked the scar that sliced down through his groin hair. His body shuddered.

  Suddenly, she raised her gaze and held his, all teasing gone. “So now is the time to tell me. Is there anything else you need to confess about your disappearance, or aught else?”

  Alex swore, blocking out the guilt that roiled inside him. Naught had changed—a dangerous traitor sought his death. And the stakes were even higher now. The man had threatened Kat. If Kat were to learn the truth, she would not rest until the traitor was caught.

  His gut clenched. He would die if anything happened to his brave, beautiful wife. So he drowned out his nagging conscience the only way he knew how. Alex tugged Kat up into his arms, rolled on top of her, and then wedged his hips between her spread thighs.

  His bulbous head nudged her entrance. She was wet, creamy.

  “Nay. There is naught else to tell you.” He closed his eyes and kissed her, a hard, desperate kiss, even as he drew back and thrust inside her tight sheath. A moan of ecstasy burst from his lips, mingling with her soft cry of pleasure. Alex pumped inside her, frenzied, until her damp inner-muscles squeezed his cock dry, their cries ricocheting inside their sultry curtained bower.

  A sennight later, the atmosphere of the riders on the busy thoroughfare was jovial as they traveled to a village west of Westminster to go to the market faire. Except for Rand and Alex, who rode behind Kat and Rose. They spoke in hushed tones, the ladies blissfully ignorant of what they discussed.

  Reluctantly drawing his gaze away from his wife, Alex looked over at Rand. The not unpleasant cacophony of the jingle of tack, the beat of horses’ hooves, the hum of conversation and the creak of wooden wheels on packed dirt ensured their voices could not be overheard.

  “I spoke with King Edward. His trap has snared Scarface. One of the king’s scouts sent word that Scarface is in route to England as we speak. That means Scarface is unaware I am alive or he’d be suspicious.”

  Rand watched Alex, troubled. “On what pretense did Edward lure him to England?”

  “He believes the king needs his services, a special mission that requires his unique skills and utmost secrecy.” His smile twisted into a parody of a grin. “But when he arrives on our shores, he shall be sorely surprised when the king’s men clap him in irons and escort him to the Tower instead. It shall not be long now before Scarface names the man who hired him.”

  “When shall he arrive?” Rand asked, his concern for Alex growing. The hate distorting his friend’s handsome face was something to behold. Although a renowned knight, Alex had never taken any joy in killing as long as Rand had known him. Alex saw it as his sacred duty to God and king. But Rand hardly recognized the hate-filled man beside him.

  “He should arrive in a sennight, mayhap more,” Alex said.

  Then, as though the conversation never occurred, Alex swung his gaze to Rand’s, eyes shining with expectancy. “Well, my friend, shall we catch up with our ladies?” He laughed, deep and rich. “It would seem in their excitement they have pulled ahead of us.” Alex spurred his horse forward.

  Rand smiled and followed after him, his fear for Alex concealed as he pondered the swift mercurial change he witnessed. The sudden switch from stark malice to undiluted happiness was disturbing, not only because it was so uncharacteristic, but also that it was so easily done. Alex repressed the hate as though it did not exist and Rand wondered where he buried the debilitating emotion.

  Rand knew from personal experience how hate could warp and fester body and soul, like poison. And that animosity eventually spilled over to harm others around you as well.

  Rand’s father had bitterly resented his marriage to his second wife. Rand’s mother had descended from Plantagenet royalty, albeit the illegitimate side. And even though she came with a rich dowry that amply filled the depleted coffers of the Montague estates, Rand’s father was an overly vain, proud man who thought Lady Claire socially inferior to him. But at old Lord Montague’s insistence, he married her. After years of ridicule from his peers, his father’s resentment turned to hatred. And when Rand and his younger twin sister had been born, his hatred found a new target.

  Rand vowed never to allow his father’s antipathy to infect him. For hate in its extreme personified evil, and if it was not r
eleased, one day it would rise up and consume you. He prayed Alex learned that lessen sooner rather than later. Before his rancor became more important than aught else, even his love for Kat.

  Chapter 20

  From atop her horse, Kat gazed at the colorful tents, waving flags, and faire stalls on the village green in the center of the market town. The gaiety of the crowds was a contagion one did not wish to stave off. Alex grasped her waist and lifted her off Lightning. Their bodies touched—breasts, loins, and thighs—as he slid her to the ground. She felt every nuance, his heat and hardness, her blood pounding thick and sluggish.

  Since the night they made love, her relationship with Alex had taken an odd turn. In public, they were civil and circumspect in their behavior, making sure not to engage in any expression of physical intimacy. Then, in the darkest hours of the night, he slipped into their bed and into her body, rousing her from sleep. No carnal act was forbidden as he tutored her in pleasure, their illicit couplings thoroughly wicked, yet wildly exciting.

  Now her body craved constant stimulation. Craved pleasure, the kind only Alex could give her.

  “What would you like to do first?” his voice rumbled low, erotic. She barely noticed when a young boy led their horses away.

  “Huh?”

  He smiled, wolfish, as though he wished to devour her. “The faire awaits, madam. What is your desire? Hungry? Or shall we start with the amusements? Or is it more to your pleasure to visit the merchant stalls?”

  A vein beat at the pulse of her throat, her voice thick as she spoke. “I am hungry, but should we not ask Rand and Rose, first?” Kat glanced around, but saw no sign of them.

  “Gone. It would seem they have left us to our own devices. Come. I, too, hunger and yonder is a baker’s stall.” Hooking his left arm through hers, he led her to the field not fifty yards away, where a smiling, corpulent man wearing a flour-covered apron stood behind his stall.