Rage and Redemption

by Cyndi Friberg

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  His hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing the fullness of her lower lip. “Gabriel told me where to look.”

  “I didn’t see Gabriel before I departed. He didn’t know where I had gone.” She sat up, still mostly in his lap. He was like a wavering mirage, an illusion created by what she wanted him to be.

  His hand settled at the nape of her neck and his thumb stroked up and down along the side of her throat, tracing her pulse. “Someone must have seen you depart. I know not how he knew, but he did. I am here. You are safe. That is all that matters.”

  She had to do something, say something to break the tension building between them. “If this is what you meant by excitement and adventure, I’m more certain than ever I can do without.”

  He smiled and slowly shook his head. “I was talking about this.”

  She didn’t resist when he pressed his lips over hers. Her hungry fingers found his long hair. It was as gloriously soft as she remembered. She inhaled his exotic scent and savored the firm press of his lips.

  He kissed her gently, patiently. Even the brief touch of his tongue comforted her. She was able to banish the other man’s cruel face by concentrating on Gideon. A familiar tingle tripped along her spine and she sighed. But all too soon he eased her away.

  Almost desperately she reached for him. “Please,” she whispered, “I need…to forget.”

  A strangled groan escaped him as he pulled her more fully onto his lap. He supported her with one arm while his mouth settled over hers. “Do you trust me?” His lips moved against hers as he spoke the words.

  “Nay.” She punctuated the admission with a nervous laugh.

  “Let me touch you, Naomi. Let me show you how it is meant to be.”

  A shiver passed through her. “I cannot escape being ravaged only to surrender myself to you.”

  “That’s not what I’m proposing. I want only to give you what you requested, a way to forget.”

  Temptation. Oh wicked temptation. And he was right. She had asked him for it. “You will do no more than touch me?”

  “Aye.”

  “With your fingers?”

  He laughed. “Unless you beg me to do otherwise.”

  “Nay! Not even then. You must promise it will go no further than a touch.”

  “Do you really have so little faith in your ability to resist me?”

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, her gaze fixed on his mouth. “I would have your word or this ends here.”

  “I will touch you with my fingers and kiss your mouth but nothing more.”

  “Then touch me.”

  She felt the considerable proof of his desire jerk against her behind as if to protest the restriction. The tip of his tongue circled her lips and his hand slipped under the edge of her ruined chemise, cupping her breast.

  Her breath hitched and she murmured wordlessly. Heat emanated from his hand, seeping into her flesh, making her ache. Her nipple gathered against his palm, tight and sensitive. Separating the sides of her chemise, he offered her breasts to the moonlight and his hungry gaze.

  “So lovely.” He stroked the soft underside of her breasts and rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, working them into pebble-hard points.

  His dark head dipped, his intention clear, but Naomi dragged his mouth to hers. Kisses were safe, familiar. She didn’t understand these other feelings so she clung to what she knew. His hand continued to caress her breasts while he kissed her deeply and tenderly.

  Abandoning herself to their kisses, she shifted restlessly on his lap. He left her breasts exposed to the night wind and found the hem of her garment. His palm ascended along her bare calf. He deepened the kiss, his tongue dueling with hers.

  Tension kept her thighs pressed together. “Relax, Naomi. Open for me.” She trembled but her legs parted and his fingers brushed the damp curls at the apex of her thighs.

  For a moment he just cupped her mound, applying gentle pressure. She tried not to panic. No one had ever touched her there. Surely it was sinful. She knew she was wet and she felt…swollen. That seemed to happen whenever he touched her, but why?

  His finger sank between her slick folds and she tore her mouth from his, panting harshly into the night. Her inner muscles rippled as he circled the opening to her feminine passage.

  “You are so wet, so ready to take me,” he whispered.

  With his finger teasing her entrance, he brushed his thumb across a spot so exquisitely sensitive it made her entire body tremble. He circled the sensitive nub again and again. She moaned, clutching his shoulders.

  The night wind swirled around her as her senses took flight. She felt weightless, yet edgy, needful of something she had yet to understand.

  Suddenly, the tension inside her spiraled out of control. Heat and tingling pleasure pulsed from the center of her sex. She arched and shook, as the pleasure claimed her. He continued the caress, prolonging each rippling sensation. Finally, she collapsed against him, shaken and dazed.

  Gideon eased her away, his features tight, his expression pained. His hot breath fanned her face in ragged puffs. “Oh Naomi, how I burn for you.”

  She could hear desire harsh within his voice, but he set her from him and struggled to his feet. Remaining on the ground, she clutched her ruined dress with one hand, her gaze following him. He dragged deep gulps of air into his lungs and then raised his face to the sky. Naomi felt her skin prickle as she watched him. It was as if he drew strength from the darkness surrounding them.

  “Will you please take me back to the Krak?” she asked awkwardly.

  He didn’t respond. Motioning toward his horse with the graceful sweep of his arm, he waited for her to rise.

  “I don’t think I can walk,” she said in a soft, embarrassed tone.

  Without a word he returned and lifted her into his arms. He carried her to his horse, holding her snugly against his chest. He hesitated for a moment. His gaze moved slowly over her face. Did he enjoy having her helpless in his embrace?

  He set her on the saddle then mounted behind her. With quick, efficient movements he arranged his cloak to encompass them both and set the horse into motion.

  “Did you know that man?” Naomi asked, ready for any topic other than her brazen behavior. “He said he’d just come from the Krak. I think he was a mercenary. Was he familiar to you?”

  She felt his arm stiffen subtly. He took a moment to answer. “I’m not certain.”

  “You’re not certain?”

  “I was mad with rage, Naomi. I saw only your distress and the back of his head.”

  That wasn’t true. After Gideon lifted the man off her, they had faced each other. There had been plenty of time for Gideon to determine if he knew the man. “What should I do if I see him again? What if he returns to the Krak?”

  He splayed his long fingers against her ribs and his cheek nuzzled her hair. “You worry for nothing. The villain is long gone.”

  He was trying to distract her with his touch. His attempt made her all the more suspicious. “How can you be certain? How can you possibly know that I’ll not encounter him again?”

  Slowing the horse to a lumbering walk, Gideon grabbed Naomi and lifted her into his arms. He swung her legs to one side so she sat upon his lap again. “The danger is gone. Trust me in this.”

  His fierce expression only compounded her misgivings. “Who was that man? How do you know there is no danger?”

  “You guessed correctly. I know him and I will see that he never touches you again.”

  “How?”

  His hand tangled in her hair and he brought her face up to his. “I will kill him if you like. Is that what you want to hear? I will spill his blood and laugh as the life fades from his eyes.”

  “Why? What am I to you? Why would you offer such a thing? Why were you following me?” She was nearly shouting by the time she finished her list of questions.

  “Tell me what you want. Nam
e your price. What must I do to possess you?” His voice was thick with desire, harsh and urgent.

  Confused and a little afraid, Naomi guided his hand out of her hair. “I have no wish to be possessed by anyone. I want nothing from you.”

  “It did not seem so a few minutes ago.”

  She started to protest then simply turned her face away. Untangling her skirts, she maneuvered her leg back over the horse’s neck and did her best to ignore her tormentor?”

  Chapter Three

  In the darkness behind the barracks, Gideon stomped the length of the building and back. His hands curled into tight fists, his nails cutting painfully into his palms. One powerful sweep of his mind revealed that Crispin wasn’t inside the building. Dragging a long, deep breath into his burning lungs, he spun to face the wall. He had to control his fury before he summoned Crispin or his friend wouldn’t survive the confrontation.

  He’d saved Crispin’s life on the battlefield thirteen years before. Forcing a small amount of his own blood into the mouth of the mortally wounded youth had not only triggered Crispin’s miraculous recovery, it had created a strong mental and emotional bond between the two. Crispin was faultlessly loyal but he was not a mindless puppet. Gideon had allowed him to retain his personality.

  Gideon scraped his nails along the wall and he pressed his forehead against the cold stones. He shook with the need to kill. He was angry, he was hungry, and he was aroused. Focusing on the hunger, Gideon battled back the need for violence and sexual release.

  He growled low in his throat and turned to press his back against the wall. He sent out a mental summons, drawing Crispin to him. Splaying his hands against the stones, Gideon concentrated on the rough, cold texture beneath his palms. He allowed the coolness to seep into his body, calming and soothing him.

  A soft, feminine giggle broke his concentration. He sprang away from the wall and crouched, ready for battle. Females seldom traveled alone, even within the castle compound. A young woman stopped short as she rounded the corner and saw him. Held back by a solid red scarf, her long, dark hair framed an unlined face. Her dark eyes were wide and luminous with fear.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Crispin said as he stepped up behind her. “He will not hurt you.”

  Gideon’s eyebrow arched at the lie. Had Crispin misunderstood the reason for his command or was this a clever ploy to defuse Gideon’s anger? The sexual desire ignited by touching Naomi surged again. He needed release and he needed blood.

  The frantic pounding of the woman’s heart echoed through his head. He could smell her fear, imagine the addictive heat of her blood rolling across his tongue and warming him from the inside out. She trembled. Her helplessness excited him even more.

  Wordlessly he raised his hand, casting his thrall and commanding the woman to him. Her eyes stared back at him unblinking and unfocused. She stood before him utterly defenseless.

  Gideon glanced past the woman, his eyes clashing with Crispin’s. “Do not depart. I would speak with you.”

  “I’ll stand guard,” Crispin muttered, and then discreetly turned his back.

  Gideon returned his attention to the woman. She began to shake with the first brush of his fingers. Despite his mental hold over her, apparently she could sense his power and her peril. Her features were ordinary but her skin was soft and supple, as yet undamaged by the unforgiving climate of her home. He ran his fingers across her cheek and along her jaw. Turning her face aside, he stroked her slender neck with his fingers and then his lips.

  His body hardened in a painful reminder of the desire Naomi had aroused. He pressed himself against the woman, allowing Naomi’s image to form within his mind. His hands wandered over the woman’s soft form. He cupped her breast and her buttocks as he rocked his cock against the apex of her thighs. She was a poor substitute for what he really wanted. If he took her now, would he still burn for Naomi?

  Gideon groaned in frustration and banished his sexual need. This creature might be unable to fulfill his desire, but she could certainly appease his appetite. His mouth returned to her throat. Her pulse thundered beneath his lips. He closed his eyes, enjoying the intoxicating thrill of holding a life within his grasp. His fangs distended, growing in direct proportion to the urgency of his need. He traced the pulsing line of her throat with his tongue, tasting her skin, inhaling the sweetness of her life.

  She whimpered while he pressed her trembling body against his chest, supporting her head in the crook of his arm. Gideon scraped his teeth across her skin and waited. The final penetration was so much sweeter when he prolonged the tension and built the urgency.

  The erotic give of her flesh beneath his fangs sent ripples of pleasure through Gideon’s entire body. Again he paused, savoring the physical connection before he began to feed. He absorbed her energy, renewing his strength with her human essence.

  Power expanded within him. Hunger gradually abated, leaving in its place a tingling heat. Gideon pulled back, panting softly, before he swept his tongue across her skin to seal the wound.

  He closed his eyes, his hunger appeased yet far from replete. The memory of Naomi’s blood, sweet and pure, taunted him. Why was this happening? He must not become ensnared in his own trap.

  Pressing his lips to the woman’s temple, he took the memory of his face from her mind and muddled even her memory of Crispin.

  “Take her,” he told Crispin, pushing the girl away. “Then return to me. We are not finished.”

  Crispin returned alone a few moments later. Again Gideon smelled fear but none of it showed on his friend’s face.

  “Did your plan work?” Crispin asked audaciously.

  He was clever, this mortal man. The question inferred that any dissatisfaction Gideon was now experiencing resulted from some flaw in his plan.

  “I told you to frighten Naomi.” Gideon spoke in an even, misleadingly soft tone. He stalked toward Crispin, intentionally revealing his predatory nature.

  “And was she not frightened?”

  A feral growl escaped Gideon as he sprang. In an instant, he grabbed Crispin by the throat and slammed him against the wall of the barracks. He could see the golden glow of his own gaze on the stunned face of his victim. “She was a bit more than frightened, Crispin,” he whispered.

  “I did what you directed.” Gideon’s hold stretched Crispin onto his toes, but his features remained in a mutinous scowl. He reached up and clasped Gideon’s wrist. “You told me to make her believe the danger was real. Had I been any less aggressive, she’d not have been convinced.”

  “How long were you prepared to be ‘aggressive’? You touched her breasts. You tasted her mouth! I should rip out your throat while you—”

  “I acted on your command,” he interrupted hoarsely.

  Gideon released him suddenly and stepped back. What Crispin said was true. Gideon had arranged the situation. Still, he had never imagined his own reaction to seeing Naomi writhing helplessly beneath Crispin’s big body.

  “She should not have this power over me,” he muttered more to himself than to Crispin.

  Crispin rubbed his bruised throat and wisely kept silent.

  Gideon paced back and forth, his thoughts chaotic, his emotions seething. “Where is Gabriel?”

  “He has retired for the night as you expected.”

  “Did he speak with Naomi?”

  Crispin shook his head. “No one approached while I was observing him. Where did you take her after you returned?”

  A fresh rush of jealousy assailed Gideon. He shouldn’t care that another man had touched her skin and seen her naked breasts. The persistent memory brought violent urges ever closer to the surface.

  “She twisted her ankle fleeing your tender ministrations,” he snapped.

  “She threw herself from my horse,” Crispin objected then asked more quietly, “Is she in the infirmary or did you return her to the dormitory?”

  “I took her to the dormitory, but you must be sure Gabriel checks her condition in the morning.�
��

  “And how will she explain her injury to Gabriel?”

  “That is not my concern. She can tell him whatever she likes.”

  “Do you consider this a success? Will this help her trust you or was—”

  Crispin’s question was cut short by Gideon’s fist. He managed to temper his strength but he could contain his wrath no longer. Crispin grunted, the impact of Gideon’s punch snapping his head to the side. Gideon welcomed the pain that shot up his arm as bone connected with bone.

  A seasoned warrior, Crispin reacted immediately. He returned each blow measure for measure then launched himself at Gideon with a string of shouted obscenities.

  The two men tumbled out into the clearing in front of the barracks.

  “I should break your hands,” Gideon snarled, landing a punishing jab to Crispin’s stomach.

  Crispin fell to one knee but shot himself forward, ramming his head into Gideon’s midsection. “You are jealous!” Crispin laughed.

  Even though Gideon could kill Crispin with effortless ease, his friend’s death was not what he wanted. He wanted to rid his mind of her image and Crispin seemed to understand. They pummeled each other and rolled across the dirt yard. One would gain the advantage for a moment only to fall beneath an especially vicious blow.

  Neither of them cared that a small crowd gathered to watch the spectacle. Four men lounged in the open doorway to the barracks. Work had stopped completely in the armory and several others loitered near the stable trying to be less obvious about their interest in the fight.

  “You will never touch her again,” Gideon shouted a few minutes later.

  Crispin staggered to his feet and wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his sleeve. His chest heaved with each breath and several bruises were already darkening portions of his face. Even so, amusement had taken over his expression.

  “Be careful, my friend,” Crispin warned with a reckless smirk. “This girl may teach you a lesson you’re not prepared to learn.”