by Tina Donahue
She gripped his shirt. “You cannot die.”
“I have no plans to do so, I can assure you.”
“You must not die!” She claimed his mouth once more.
He tasted tears on her lips and sensed a new hunger in her caress. With any other woman that would have been the end of it or, rather, the beginning. He would have taken what he required. With Isabella, he wanted more. He needed it all, starting with the truth.
Did love or guilt fuel her passion? Did she fear his death because of her feelings for him, or because she would be alone on this journey to her papá’s castle?
At last, he pulled his mouth free.
She looked at him, her expression unfocused and wanting. “Fill me.”
When she reached for him, he leaned away and frowned. “You want to lie with me? Here? Now?”
She drew in her shoulders. “Sí.”
“Why?”
Fresh tears filled her eyes.
Her misery told him what he needed to know. “Because you thought I might have died due to your action in taking my sword? I did not. Because you fear I may soon die? I will not. Because you—”
“Because I love you, Fernando.”
Chapter 11
She was wrong to love him. She would be mad to lie with him. Their coupling would only complicate her deception and bring more harm to everyone involved, yet Isabella’s heart knew only one reality. She might have lost him for all time. She would lose him soon enough and needed his strength and warmth tonight to comfort her against an already painful future. She wanted this moment in time. She longed for his child.
Isabella didn’t want to hurt Sancha by lying with her betrothed. However, she couldn’t help how she felt. “I love you.”
He didn’t speak or move, the distance between them betraying his doubt.
Her shoulders slumped, hope at an end, even though his reaction was an outcome she should have expected. Her lies had been too frequent and had continued without pause.
Isabella turned away, desperate to leave the hut and grieve alone, when Fernando pulled her close.
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face to his shoulder, savoring his scent. “Lie with me, I beg of you.”
He cupped the back of her head and turned her face to his. Again, he searched her eyes as though questioning her motives.
She had only one answer. “I love you.”
He kissed her, his passion hungry, savage, saying he finally believed what she’d said and wouldn’t allow her to deny him any longer. She was his.
He would always have her heart, even after he belonged to another.
He angled his head and thrust his tongue more deeply within her mouth. His growth of beard scoured her cheeks and chin, leaving his mark on her. Isabella yielded further, welcoming each moment.
When he pulled away, she moaned in frustration.
He pushed to his feet. She grabbed his hand. “Where are you going?”
His honeyed eyes sparkled in the faint firelight, the flames sharpening his strong features. He looked like the warrior he was, confident, imperious. “Remove your garments. Do it now.”
No more delays.
Her pile of clothing grew quickly. When she was naked, he spread the woolen blanket over the earthen floor and turned to her.
Isabella faced him, arms at her sides, hiding nothing, giving all. He glided his hand over her erect nipples and slid his fingers to her cleft, already wet for him. He smiled and touched her intimately. Warmth rushed through her. She pushed into his hand, wanting more.
“Spread your legs.”
She obeyed, fevered and hungry to be his.
He pulled her close, cupping her buttocks, imprisoning her further. “Look at me.”
She did, with honesty this time, loving him, wanting him to love her.
He worked her erect bud.
More heat pooled between her legs. Her head lolled on her shoulders.
His hand stilled. “No. Look at me.”
His intense gaze bore into her, stripping away every lie she’d told and anything else she might use to keep them separate. With him, here, now, she had no defense. Wanted none.
He stroked her again. She trembled, need building within, stealing her breath.
His deep growls mingled with her faint moans, a lover’s song. He latched onto her breast, his tongue flicking over her nipple, making her dizzy with too much desire. She cupped the back of his head to keep him to her and to anchor herself to him. Trapped within each other’s embrace, they pressed closer. He rubbed faster.
Warmth and need coiled within her until she thought she might burst. Unable to withstand so much at once, she squirmed, needing relief or a moment to rest.
Fernando held her more tightly, forcing her to endure whatever he willed.
He stroked hard then gently, slow and fast, keeping her off balance, release out of reach.
She’d never wanted anything more.
Perspiration trickled down her back. She trembled and moaned. “Please, I beg of you.” She had to reach the end.
He rubbed firmer, faster. A wild, primitive sound poured from the back of her throat, the tension between her legs breaking free, flooding her with a pleasant ache followed by waves of relaxation.
With his mouth to her neck, Fernando laved her skin with his tongue and kept stroking her.
She shuddered but didn’t pull away. Never would. To be within his arms was heaven. The only one she’d ever know.
He suckled her throat and each nipple, taking what he wanted until he’d finished and she was breathless. “Down on the blanket, face the fire. I want your legs spread fully and bent at the knees.”
Her fatigue fell away. On the blanket, she reached for him, eager with renewed anticipation and reckless need. “Fill me.”
He pulled off his garments and dropped them next to hers. Naked, he remained standing, his shaft thick and rigid, his sac plump with desire. “No more delays.”
“Take me, my lord.”
* * * *
He sank to his knees between Isabella’s legs and ran his hands down the insides of her thighs.
She inhaled sharply.
Blood pounded in Fernando’s ears. She wanted him, loved him, belonged to him.
Unable to wait any longer, he lifted his thickened member, ran the crown down her slick cleft and mounted her, driving deeply inside with one assured thrust.
Breaking through her virginal barrier.
Isabella gasped.
Fernando could scarcely breathe. Her snug, heated channel sheathed his length and aroused him beyond control, while his mind whirled at her untried state.
How was such a thing possible? It didn’t make sense. None of what he’d thought earlier had, especially about another man wanting and taking her.
She’d told the truth about her purity not being an issue.
How much more of what she’d said was also true? What part were lies? Were there any? Fernando recalled the deception she’d mentioned as he’d slept…unless he’d imagined her words as she’d claimed.
What did it matter when he saw how ruthless he’d been? Even in the scant firelight, her lips were swollen from his kisses, her skin reddened by his bristly cheeks. He thought of her flesh he’d so ruthlessly invaded and had torn. “Forgive me for harming you.”
She swallowed again. “Harming me?” She shook her head. “It had to be done, no?”
“Not in this manner or place.” He brushed his lips over hers, the heat of her channel stirring him. “Not during this journey.”
She embraced him. “Our journey will soon be at an end, this place forgotten.”
“Never.” He pulled back to see her face. “Though we shall have other moments to replace it.”
She glanced away.
Why? Because she feared his death or perhaps him abandoning her at some future time? “We will have those moments and those years.”
; “We have now. Why do you wait?” Before he could respond, she cupped his face, bringing his mouth to hers, slipping her tongue inside. She wrapped her legs about his lean hips and worked her sheath around his shaft, tightening and relaxing her muscles, only to tighten them once more.
Her heat enveloped Fernando as nothing else could, her wanton moves destroying the last of his restraint. He eased back then plunged inside, using her as he willed and as she desired. His sac slapped her buttocks. Her breasts shook with the force of his thrusts, her sheath tightening around him.
The intimate caress made his sex harder, him more determined to see to her pleasure. He slipped his hand between their bodies and brushed his fingers over her nub.
Isabella moaned brazenly…like a woman in love.
Her delight thrilled Fernando, encouraging him to do more. He thrust and stroked, mindful of her enjoyment over his.
Wanting, female sounds tore from deep within Isabella, signaling her release, fueling his passion even more. Repeatedly, he pumped his shaft within her tight, moist sheath until he no longer knew where he ended and she began. She wore his scent and he wore hers. Lust, hunger, need surged through him with such force he clenched his teeth and growled, releasing his seed into her.
Their gasps and panting filled the small hut, her channel throbbing around his shaft, adding to the delight.
Drained, Fernando draped himself over her, his face against her neck. “Now you belong to me.”
She ran her fingers through his hair and gently traced an old scar on his biceps. “Make me yours again, I beg of you.”
He laughed wearily. “My queen is most demanding.”
“I was wrong to make us wait so long. I can never forgive myself for wasting so much time.”
“We have more. The rest of our lives.”
She didn’t comment. He pushed to his elbows to see why. Quickly, she pulled his head down to her, not allowing him to question her mood. She ran her tongue over his lips then filled his mouth.
Her kiss was as tender as she was wanton. She pushed her breasts against his chest, her legs tightening around his hips while she squeezed his shaft with her sheath. Faster than he would have believed possible his member began to thicken again, stretching her slick, hot depths.
She lifted her hips readily to contain his full length. Minutes before, she’d been an untried virgin. Now, she behaved like a woman who’d never been without his touch.
Fernando sensed tenderness wouldn’t satisfy her any longer.
He ended their kiss and released himself from her heated core. “On your hands and knees, your back to me, legs fully parted, offering what is mine.”
She stared.
He gestured. “Go on.”
The flickering flames showed her cheeks and throat flushed with color, yet excitement glittered in her eyes. “As you wish, my lord.”
* * * *
Fernando watched with the arrogance of a king as Isabella did what he’d demanded, her face burning at her lewd position.
She inhaled sharply at him running his palms down the insides of her thighs, spreading her legs even farther. With one palm on her belly, he placed the other on the small of her back. His hands were heavy and hot as he directed her to lift her buttocks and present herself fully to him.
The moment she did, he eased back yet said nothing.
Words were hardly necessary. His scrutiny constricted her nipples and heated her flesh. Although his silence intensified other sounds—the crackling fire, sluggish breeze, furtive animal calls outside the hut—only he mattered.
He ran his fingers over her buttocks and down her inner thigh. She made a coarse, wanting sound. When he traced the same area on her other leg, her sex hungered for his touch.
He denied her, stopping suddenly. “Arch your back. Present yourself to me.”
She did as he commanded.
Settled between her legs, he stroked her puffy folds and quickly concentrated on her nub. The small rise of flesh was still so sensitive she bucked slightly. He didn’t appear to notice or care as he teased the most intimate part of her and drove his shaft back into her opening.
She forced down a swallow and tried to slow her galloping pulse. Their positions enhanced the pressure of his member within her, making the act so wicked and breathtaking she sighed wantonly.
Fernando used her as he pleased, fondling her breasts without restraint, running his thumbs over her nipples. He pushed his lean hips against her, making certain she contained every inch of his flesh.
Wanting all of his length inside, she lifted her buttocks to give him greater access to what was already his.
He gripped her hip, confining her further as he pulled back until his shaft was nearly free of her sheath before he plunged back inside.
Her mouth sagged open on a bawdy moan. The friction between their bodies was nearly too much and everything she coveted. His rigid length drove her to the edge, along with his brief strokes on her nub. Arousal built within her, wanting to break free, yet just as she was ready to shout her release, Fernando stopped rubbing and thrusting.
The wave of pleasure drifted away, out of reach.
No, no, no, no.
Resisting the urge to mutter an oath, she tightened her muscles about his thickened shaft and wiggled her buttocks against him.
He gripped her hips. “Be still.”
She pulled in another ragged breath. “No.”
“No?” He squeezed harder, proving his strength. “You will.”
She begged. “Why are you denying me pleasure? Allow me completion.”
“In time.”
“Now.”
“No, Isabella. Only when I allow it.”
She couldn’t sway him. Each time she tightened her sheath around his rigid shaft, Fernando eased back until he was nearly free of her and made her wait before he thrust back inside. When she pushed her hips toward him to quicken his pace and bring blessed completion to both of them, he stopped.
She gripped the blanket. Her breathing grew increasingly unsteady, but she obeyed him at last, lifting her buttocks, allowing him all he willed.
His pace was slow and steady, surely to make her hold back on completion as he was doing.
Every part of her begged for release, her cleft aching with denied pleasure, skin tingling with arousal. He invaded her depths with each of his powerful thrusts, taking what he desired, giving her what she craved.
At last, he increased the speed of his thrusts and his strokes on her nub. Their bodies came together with brief smacking noises. He growled several times, betraying his lust. Isabella whimpered and moaned, feminine sounds befitting a woman, though the noises she made hardly matched the fire burning within her. Passion raged uncontrolled, pushing her past the point of decency. Her sudden wail of delight was nearly as loud as his resultant bellow.
They both panted harshly, needing rest.
Fernando slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her up and into him as he remained inside of her. Each of his labored breaths pushed his chest against her back. With his free hand, he turned her face to his and filled her mouth with his tongue.
His kiss was ruthless, surely meant to silence her as he stroked her still-sensitive nub. A surge of pleasure too powerful to endure slammed into Isabella. She tried to free herself. Unable to, she cried out, his tongue muffling the sound.
He increased his hold on her and deepened his kiss, forcing her to submit.
Her shoulders trembled with her strained breathing. She willed it to slow and her muscles to relax so she might deliver herself to him.
The moment she had, Fernando again stroked her nub while he trailed his other hand over her breasts. She was fully his now, filled with his tongue and shaft, his hands exploring and using her in any way he chose.
Time lost all meaning. She was aware only of promised pleasure somewhere in the distance. Each time release came close, he denied her completion. Each time she calmed
her ragged breathing and racing heart, he brought her closer to bliss. It was maddening, thrilling, and finally complete as he led her to another climax more powerful than the rest.
Gulping air, she slumped against him. Her skin was heated and moist, body shuddering with spent satisfaction. Fernando remained inside of her as she relaxed, his strength a comfort, his tenderness making her long for more.
She touched his face. “Let me pleasure you as you have me.”
“No.”
She looked over.
“This is what I want.” He rested his hand on her smooth mound. “Your mouth, though lovely, is a poor substitute.”
“I agree. I have no intention of pleasuring you with my mouth.”
He regarded her skeptically. “What do you intend to use?”
“Remove yourself from me and lay on the blanket. Do it now.”
He scowled at her command, though he did obey.
Isabella smiled. Fernando didn’t. “I want your belly, not your mouth.”
“As you wish, my lord.” She stood.
He frowned. “What are you doing? Pleasure me.”
“In time.” She drank him in as he’d done with her, going so far as to push her foot against the insides of his ankles to make him spread his legs. His thickened member and wondrous sac caught most of her attention. Each glistened with his spilled seed and her taken virginity.
She affected the stance a monarch might. “Remain as you are.”
He promptly folded his arms beneath his head, disobeying her.
Isabella didn’t mind. She could see all of him now and took her time perusing his muscular body, lingering on the short, dark hairs on his broad chest, the silky tufts beneath his arms, the terrible cuts on his throat, the worrisome scars of past battles, and finally the thick male fur on his groin.
Enthralled, she sank to her knees and spilled a bit of the wine onto her braies.
Fernando lifted his head. “What are you doing?”
“Preparing you.” She ran the garment over his dark curls, shaft, and sac, cleansing him of her lost virginity. He inhaled deeply at her careful touch. She licked the remaining wine off his rod and thatch. Groaning, he drew up his legs and rested the soles of his feet on the blanket.
