by Laura Glenn
“Off with it.” His clipped tone was softened only by a hazy suggestion of barely checked ardor radiating from his eyes.
She should step away and run as far as possible. After all, this man could have any woman he wanted and had, if Alpina was to be believed. What allure did he see in her? Or was he just taking advantage of the fact she was a willing woman?
But it was too late. She couldn’t turn back now. She would never forgive herself. The cold of the room wrapped around her bare midriff as she grabbed the hem of her leine and lifted it. The soft linen dragged along her stiff, sensitive nipples as she pulled the garment over her head and dropped it to the floor.
Rathe’s nostrils flared as he cast his gaze to her bruised hip, smoothing his thumb back and forth over the large purple discoloration. “Does it still pain you?”
“Not really.” Her entire body stiffened. Only Simon had ever seen her fully naked and, considering how many women Rathe was rumored to have been with, Leah couldn’t help but withdraw her arms to her chest. Surely other women he’d had were more appealing. Less rounded and soft. More lithe and delicate.
“Ah, lass, I am so sorry.” He pulled her forward as he brushed his lips over her bruise.
She gasped, her skin tingling. His voice was so earnest, so soothing. It might have been all for show, but at least he was trying to make her feel as though she wasn’t just some random woman he had picked up at a party.
Rathe’s breath seared a pathway from her hip to her navel. He pressed his lips to her skin, planting slow, lazy kisses along her stomach as his hands slipped around to her backside, kneading and exploring. Her muscles warmed beneath his fingertips, his gentle touch sending a heady wave of desire through her. She threaded her fingers through his hair, awestruck by the raptured twist of his handsome features.
His eyes blackened like a man possessed by a demonic spirit as they traveled across her breasts. A strange, thrilling spark of fear over the feral nature of his expression grew within her, twisting and mingling with the vulnerability of standing stark naked before a perfect stranger.
In one swift, fluid motion, he grabbed her by the waist and threw her onto the bed. His eyes roved over her body. Her flesh tingled, face heating. She squirmed and then paused. She was wet. Very wet.
He dropped his breeches to the floor. His large, thickly veined cock jutted out before him as he crawled across the bed to her side. Her throat grew dry and she forced her eyes back to his face.
Rathe’s hand skipped across her lower abdomen, gliding through the hair on her mons. He grabbed her hip and separated her thighs with one knee.
She closed her eyes as an urge to bolt out from under him consumed her. She was going to do this. She wanted to do this. Just this once. Then she could go back to her non-hedonistic, unspontaneous, boring life.
He pressed his hard, roped thigh against her slickening pussy. The deep, excruciating ache overwhelmed her, short-circuiting her brain. She bit back a moan, tilting her hips.
He sucked in a breath. “God, lass, you are ready for me.” He flicked one nipple with his tongue.
She gasped, arching her back toward him. He ground his thigh against her and a groan escaped her lips. He fell upon her then, lips closing around her nipple, flicking and sucking. His warm, weighty form pressed her into the mattress.
“It is all right to touch me.” He laughed as he nuzzled her neck. His hand cupped her other breast, teasing the nipple into a hard, aching peak.
Her hands were balled up at her sides. Oh God, could she act any more virginal? “Sorry.” She forced her hands to relax.
He chuckled again, the vibrations rippling through her skin from his lips. “No apology needed. I just want you to enjoy this.”
“I am,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m just…nervous.”
“Do not be.” He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger as his lips seared a path up her neck. “You are safe with me. I swear it.”
A jolting shock zipped from her nipple to her clit. She moaned his name, grinding herself against his leg. Her hands glided over his shoulders to his back. Their lips met and she slanted her mouth beneath his, thrusting her tongue between his lips.
He rubbed his smooth, erect shaft back and forth over her hip and tore his lips away from hers. His teeth raked down her neck. “Spread your legs, lass.”
A tremor ripped through her pussy as she followed his instructions. His calloused palm grazed her stomach, arching over her mons to her trembling inner thigh. Stroking the sensitive flesh, he took a nipple into his mouth once again. Leah’s nails dug into his back as hot moisture pooled in her core.
Rathe slipped two fingers into her folds, brushing over her clit, and she arched toward him. A wicked surge flew through her body, tearing a cry from her lips. And then his fingers pushed into her, slipping into her opening as his thumb hit her clit.
He bit her neck and thrust his fingers into her again. “Tell me what you want. What you wanted me to do to you when I saw you at your window.”
Oh God, he had seen her. And knew what she’d been thinking. Just as embarrassment pushed forward through the gossamer veil of arousal, his thumb pressed into her clit and drove it away. She rocked her hips in rhythm with his movements as an aching, needful swirl of pleasure wound its way through her core and up toward her head.
He slid his fingers out of her and she whimpered until he stroked her clit in tight, ever-quickening circles. “It is what I wanted too, lass.”
Her threads of control unraveling, she gripped the bedcovers in one hand while dragging her nails along his back with the other. Acute spasms of pleasure radiated outward from her clit, sending her mind into a spiral of dark desire.
He slowed his movements until his fingers were motionless but pressing on her throbbing clit. “Tell me. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
Leah shuddered, her body heating. She squeezed her eyes shut, panting. She’d never uttered those words out loud. She was a good girl, after all. Good girls didn’t ask to be fucked. He tapped her clit and she gasped for breath as sharp, exquisite jolts of fire tore through her core.
Then the words tumbled in a rush from her mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”
He growled and recaptured her lips in a searing, soul-shattering kiss. His fingers stroked her clit in a perfect, practiced rhythm. Overwhelmed by the flashes of heat tearing through her flesh and the jagged stabs of pleasure radiating from her clit, she tore her lips away from his, her thighs trembling. The tension in her core wound higher, her blood pulsating through her flesh. She whimpered as the long-awaited tremors thrummed from deep within her abdomen, building hotter and tighter through her gaping pussy. Her limbs shook, her entire body drawn as tight as a bowstring. Then her heart paused mid-beat, holding her aloft as a spasm from deep within her core crescendoed and crashed, wrenching his name from between her lips and sending pulsations of pleasure through her writhing body.
And then he was on her, between her thighs, his full weight pressing her further into the mattress. She captured his bottom lip with her mouth and tugged on it as she bent her knees, opening herself for him. As she released his lip, gliding her hands across his shoulders, the tip of his cock paused at her entrance. Her breath caught in her throat as a dark intensity flared through his eyes.
Slowly, he tilted his hips, parting her folds. She stilled, consumed by a slow, aching stretch as her core yielded to his invasion. Her blood pounded in her ears, matching the rhythm of her pussy pulsating all around him.
And then he pulled back and plunged into her again, grinding himself against her clit. His name fell from her lips, her nails scraping across his tensed shoulders. With another hard thrust, more tremors were triggered in her core and she lifted her hips to his, meeting him halfway. She thrashed beneath him, her distended nipples rubbed over and over again on the crisp hair on his chest. Searing vibrations rippled through her pussy as it tightened around his thick cock. She gasped as the pulsations shattered into a mind
-bending explosion through her flesh.
Hot. So wet. And he fit inside her perfectly.
Beads of sweat formed on Rathe’s brow, his arms straining to lift himself off her before he crushed her with his weight. He shifted back onto his knees, grabbing her hips and lifting them up so he could pound into her long supple body.
Her arms fell to the bed on either side of her head, her glorious mass of auburn hair flung haphazardly beneath. His name escaped from between her parted, rosy lips in a low, surprised moan. He plunged into her extra hard, mesmerized by the arching of her back and thrusting of her creamy, silken breasts high into the air. Shadows thrown off by the fire danced across her skin. The sweet, honeyed scent of her skin mingled with the heady scent of her arousal.
He would bring her to a peak once more before he pulled out. He slowed his thrusts and found her clit with his thumb, rubbing in quick, deliberate circles. She uttered a deep groan, her breathing choppy and erratic. Her depths suckled his cock and he gritted his teeth as she moaned again, pummeling her hips upward toward him.
He fell forward and braced himself on one elbow. “Give me your hand, Leah.”
“What? I don’t—”
“Now, lass,” he ordered, grabbing her hand. With no small amount of regret, he pulled his throbbing cock out of her warm, moist depths and wrapped her smooth hand around it. “Finish it.”
She didn’t hesitate. His forehead fell to her shoulder as she stroked him. His shaft surged in her warm hand and the spasm overtook him. He growled her name, fucking her soft hand as he shot his seed onto her smooth belly.
Leah’s eyes fell closed as every muscle in her body unwound at once, sending her quivering to the mattress. Rathe’s ragged breathing fell across her ear. When he shifted, her eyes flew open. A cocky grin spread across his face as he peeled her fingers away from his shaft.
Oh God, she still had a hold of him.
“Sorry about that, lass.” He arose from the bed and strode across the room to a washing bowl sitting upon a low chest.
He retrieved a small washcloth and cleaned her off. He tossed the cloth aside, flopped back onto the bed, and closed his eyes.
An awkward silence stretched between them. She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest, allowing her eyes to roam up and down Rathe’s body. Every part seemed to be chiseled from stone, wrought as though he were a mere stature in a museum and not a flesh-and-blood man lying in bed next to her. A man whose lips were far too persuasive for her own good. A man whom women probably flung themselves at but who instead had pursued her tonight—boring old Leah Gunn, librarian.
Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. No matter what happened, she would remember this night for the rest of her life.
But there was still the strangeness of what had happened at the end and she couldn’t resist asking, despite her hesitation. “Rathe?”
“Yes?” He caressed her thigh with the back of his hand.
As he opened his eyes, they landed on hers. Unnerved by his sudden attention, she bit her lower lip. She shook her head. “Nothing.”
They studied each other in silence. Curiosity passed across his face as the masculine arrogance faded. Something about the ease with which he laughed and smiled soothed her fears.
She didn’t want him to leave.
A lead weight settled into her stomach. He would have to leave sometime, whether it was now or in the morning before the household awakened. Besides, he probably had some other rendezvous lined up already for when he left in a couple of days. The man was too skilled, too good in bed to not be a complete womanizer.
Other women. Ugh. It nicked her heart, but she had to be realistic. It wasn’t like she was the first woman he’d seduced and she definitely wouldn’t be the last. She tore her gaze from his and cast it down to the blanket covering the mattress. She should be a big girl and let him go. But lying here alone while her impending marriage plagued her, sending her thoughts into wild, violent territory, shook any semblance of control she had left. If she just had something to distract her, something to hold on to, maybe she could make it through the night without losing her mind.
“Rathe, if you don’t have anywhere to be just yet, would you mind staying? I mean, you could leave after I fall asleep if you want. I just really don’t want to be alone right now.”
He remained still, not uttering a single sound, and her stomach sank. Who was she kidding? This was a one-time fling. He wouldn’t care what happened to her once the sun came up.
But then he tugged at her arm, causing her to lose her balance and fall forward. She caught herself on her elbow before she landed on him.
His brows knitted together and he pulled her up against him. “I will stay.”
She nodded, tears of relief stinging her eyes. He pulled the blankets over them, brushing his lips across the top of her head.
Leah blinked the tears away before they could fall to his chest. Pity wasn’t what she was after. Just closeness of another warm body and the reassuring presence of someone so confident and calm. For all of Simon’s faults, it was the one thing she missed the most about him.
She drew in a long breath, filling her whole chest with the warm air surrounding Rathe. The tension and fear melted from her skin and she shifted until her whole body was pressed along his side. The hair on his legs tickled her thighs.
And then the sadness crept into her shoulders. He would be gone when she awakened in the morning. Leaving her alone to somehow figure a way out of this mess.
There was no way in hell she was marrying some misogynistic, cold-hearted thirteenth-century creep. She’d already dodged a bullet with Simon leaving her and she wasn’t about to blow a second chance on anyone she didn’t truly love.
She was going home. Back to safe, old twenty-first century where there were antibiotics, blood transfusions, ice cream, and hazelnut lattes. And men who respected women as full human beings, didn’t carry swords at their sides, or have demon-quality good looks like the man lying naked beneath her.
Chapter Five
Damn it.
Rathe’s cock stirred again, surging toward the warmth of the soft, feminine curves next to him. He could take her again, fucking her awake while his name fell in gasps from those delicious lips.
He flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, willing his ardor for the poor lass next to him to die down. Leah was desperate and hurt by the mere thought of her impending marriage. The last thing she needed was some stranger pawing at her again after so roughly using her only hours prior.
And not long before another man would do the same.
That forced him out of Leah’s bed. He’d lain awake for a good while before the sun peeked out from behind the window coverings, but he hadn’t wanted to leave. He took too much pleasure in the warmth of her body snuggled against him and wanted nothing more than to hold her until she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. But he shouldn’t. That privilege was reserved for another man.
He must leave.
He slid out of the bed and dressed, surprised by the sting of a light pain across his shoulders as his leine slipped over his skin. Reaching into the collar of his shirt, his fingers slid over several raised scratches. He resisted the urge to chuckle, smiling instead at the evidence of Leah’s enjoyment of their time together. Just as he was walking out the door, he caught the luscious curve of her hip beneath the blankets out of the corner of his eye and was almost drawn back into the room.
Angry now, Rathe pushed away from the door and turned in to the hallway. He rushed down the stairwell and into the great hall as a surge of hot jealousy wrapped around his heart. What the hell was wrong with him? Even his last wife had never engendered this kind of response in him. Hell, she’d even thrown up her skirts for some Frenchman at court in Edinburgh while Rathe was away on the Continent and had become pregnant with the man’s bastard and still he’d never cared enough to go after the man. Now a fire raged within, urging him to fight for Leah.
But then what? H
e sure as hell didn’t want to get married either.
He stormed through the great hall, making his way around groups of hung-over, passed-out men slumped over tables and across the floor. He needed fresh air to clear his mind.
A cloudy, overcast sky met him as he stepped outside. He found a group of his men where they had bedded down for the night but spoke little to them. He walked the ramparts of the castle, pretending to take in the design as though he were interested in modifying the ramparts of his own, much smaller keep. He wandered into the kitchens, looking for food and drink but taking nothing offered.
Damn that woman.
It must have been the pure innocence she exuded. His protective nature had caught the scent of it and wouldn’t let go. After all, Leah was a danger to herself. First, he saved her from being run through by a sword. Then he caught her trying to run away into the woods alone. Not to mention the fact she took him, a complete stranger, to her bed.
She was far too trusting for her own good. He could forgive her for the wild desperation that had caused her to spread her legs for him, but he could have done worse to her while she slept. After all, hadn’t Lady Barclay told her he’d killed his wives?
But Leah had trusted him—had believed him when he told her he had never laid a hand on his wives. He had spoken the truth, of course, but it didn’t negate the fact she never questioned his proclamation of innocence. Leah could be taken advantage of by a lesser man than he, one who wouldn’t question breaking her should the mood strike. One who would attempt to smother the wild, untamed spirit hiding beneath the shy, skittish exterior.
He must rid himself of this turmoil. The ease he sought would only come if she were given to a good man. One who would treat her well. Then he could simply put it out of his mind another man would run his fingers along her silken thighs, suckle those sweet, rosy nipples, and plunge into her hot, wet core as he got drunk with the celebrants of their wedding in the great hall below.
