He took her other hand and guided it to his erection. She gasped. He groaned. Giddy excitement raced through her and she had to fight back a giggle. He was so hot, so hard. She looked down at the thick column of flesh cradled in her palm, and her inner muscles clenched. Her body knew how they would join, understood she was meant for this. Her fingers looked pale against his dusky skin. She passed her thumb over his flared tip. A bead of moisture welled from the tiny opening. She glanced up, but his eyes were closed, his chest shuddering with ragged breaths. Fascinated, she smoothed the liquid over his skin. She licked her lips, filled with the urge to taste this secret elixir. Was such a thing allowed? If she slipped to her knees, would he let her—
Suddenly, almost violently, he brushed her hand away and swept her up into his arms. He strode across the room and placed her in the middle of the bed. He quickly settled himself beside her, his breath harsh and heavy. Instinctively, she tried to stop him as he reached for the cord holding her garment together.
“I want to see you,” he whispered.
Rowena stared up at him. He was the most amazing man she’d ever seen. Fully dressed and scowling, she found him attractive. Naked and seductive, she couldn’t resist.
He moved her hands to her sides and parted the dressing gown, exposing her entire body to his heated gaze. She bit her lip and steeled herself for the rejection. She was skinny, her breasts small, her hips narrow. He’d scorn her and leave her.
She held her breath, waiting…
“God’s blood, Rowena. I could spend a lifetime just looking at you.”
His voice was so husky, so strangled, she looked into his eyes. “You find me pleasing?”
“Pleasing? You’re perfect.” He covered her breast with his palm. “See how well we fit. It’s as if you were fashioned for me alone.”
Her heart leapt in response to his praise, but she was still afraid. How could she surrender her body to a man she didn’t trust?
What was she doing?
For this one night, Rowena, you are mine.
You are perfect.
It is as if you were fashioned for me alone.
She could give him one night. She could give it to herself. They would be lovers—for this one night.
His hand gently squeezed her breast. “Kiss me, Dominic. Don’t stop kissing me.”
He slipped one arm beneath her neck and settled his mouth over hers. She parted her lips and met the intimate thrust of his tongue. Her fingers found his hair and tangled there, preventing his withdrawal.
He touched her, patiently stroking her breasts and only her breasts. She wanted his hands everywhere and she wanted to touch him too. Her free hand found his back, absorbing the texture and the heat with greedy abandon. His fingers plucked her nipple and Rowena quivered. There were so many sensations, each of them new.
His fingers drifted down along her torso and she automatically brought up her leg, bending her knee and angling her leg to protect the apex of her thighs. He deepened the kiss, drugging her mind, distracting her while his hand insinuated itself between her legs.
Her head spun, but shock brought everything he did into sharp focus. Fear and excitement alternated, tugging her in opposite directions. His long fingers combed through her tight curls. He kept kissing her. His middle finger sank between her folds. He kept kissing her. He found that sensitive spot that made her whole body jump, but he kept right on kissing her.
She clutched his shoulders and held perfectly still as he rubbed her and slid the length of his finger against that special spot. Tension built within her. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“Relax, love,” he whispered against her mouth. “Let me touch you.”
He nudged her legs apart, making more room for his hand. “You are touching me.”
He’d done this once before, but he’d left her aching then. He wouldn’t stop tonight. There was no reason for him to stop. His fingers slid over and around, and the pleasure built inside her. Rowena grabbed his face and abandoned herself to their kisses. Kissing was safe, kissing was familiar.
He stroked her, desire making her body slick and hot. Rotating his wrist, he caressed her from different angles. She gasped and pushed up with her heels, rocking her pelvis, grinding against his hand, unable to stop the instinctive motion.
Rowena cried out. Her inner muscles squeezed as pleasure showered her body like tingling rain. Dominic moved between her legs, pushing her knees up and back. He spread her thighs with his knees and rubbed against her with something more substantial than his fingertips. She arched her back, the emptiness within her painful. He found her entrance with his shaft and stroked her nub with his thumb, maintaining her staggering arousal.
One of his hands slipped beneath her, tilting her pelvis upward as he drove his hips down. She felt her body stretch and burn, accepting his penetration. Rowena couldn’t suppress a ragged sob. Uncertainty surged through her desire, and she clasped her thighs against his hips, trying to stave him off.
He murmured her name, part plea and part prayer, then thrust hard, burying himself fully within her. Rowena cried out. The pain faded quickly, but it had robbed her of breath. She dragged air into her burning lungs and tried not to panic.
He didn’t move. Dominic held her close, stroking her hair away from her face and kissing her lightly. “The worst is over,” he promised. “Just relax. Feel me inside you.”
She could feel nothing else. He was huge and hot, and her body gripped him in fluttering spasms. He was kissing her again, and Rowena felt her fear dissipate. His fingers feathered caresses over her breasts.
He pulled back slowly, dragging himself nearly out of her. It stung and Rowena stiffened. She waited for him to thrust back inside, but he did something unexpected. He slipped his hand between their bodies and found that special knot just above where their bodies were joined. His fingers began a circular dance that made her whimper and tremble. A hot rush of liquid flowed through her core as if her body had melted beneath a midsummer sun.
“Oh aye,” he whispered. “That’s what we needed.”
He rocked his hips forward, filling her in one long, steady thrust. Her fingers clutched his shoulders as he tried a second stroke. Over and over he pulled nearly out then drove deep again. Each movement was slow and tantalizing. She lay beneath him, passively accepting the fullness at first. Once she understood the rhythm, she started to move. Burying her face against his throat, she muffled her cries. Dominic increased the speed and strength of each thrust.
The urgent heat started deep in her belly, curling outward in a maelstrom of sensation. Each stroke of his body against hers and inside hers intensified the burning. Rowena dug her nails into his back as her body tightened around him, caressing him with her release.
He groaned and strained against her, burying himself to the hilt. Rowena held him tightly, her legs wrapped around his waist, the pleasure too overwhelming for her to comprehend that he spilled his seed against the mouth of her womb.
He rolled them to their sides, their bodies still entwined.
“I never dreamed it would be like this,” she murmured, and Dominic chuckled. She felt liberated, enlightened. She wanted to shout and dance and—do it again!
“I’ll take that to mean you approve.”
She smiled, snuggling closer to him. “I was told mating was something to be endured quietly. It was a duty that you were required to submit to because your husband fed and clothed you.” Gaston’s ghost shriveled and shrank until it disappeared entirely from her heart.
Dominic laughed, gently separating their bodies. “I think the clergy concocted that tale to keep our young women from becoming promiscuous.” Rowena stretched like a lazy cat, her hands skimming along her body. Dominic groaned. “Lie still or you will find out how many other lies the clergy told you.”
She rolled to her side and propped her head on her hand, glancing down at his burgeoning erection. Feminine power unfurled within her, making her bold. “But he’s begging
for attention.” She purred playfully.
“And you are begging for trouble.”
“I never beg.” She flashed a challenging grin.
“Would you care to wager on that?”
* * * * *
“Milady, you must get up. This is a disaster!”
Thora’s frantic words jarred Rowena from her delightful dreams. She sat up in bed and looked around to see what crisis had befallen the castle. Sunlight flooded the chamber, piercing her eyes and pounding through her brain.
Dominic was gone.
She indulged in a loud groan and plopped down onto her back, covering her eyes with her forearm.
“Leave me be.” She rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in the thick feather mattress. Her body ached in places it had no business aching, but the contented lethargy was with her still. It could not be morning yet. Morning meant the night had ended, and Rowena didn’t want the night to end.
“Rowena. You must get up!”
Knowing her servant couldn’t see her face, Rowena grinned. She hadn’t really expected Dominic to be here when she woke up, but the bed felt huge and empty without him.
“I asked Milton if he had heard any tales since Sir Dominic arrived, and he verified everything you told me and more.”
Rowena sat up and pulled the bedding to her chin. The lingering remnants of her perfect, peaceful night were well and truly shattered. “What are you talking about?”
“After I left you yestereve, I went to Milton. He confirmed what you overheard in the forest. We have made a terrible mistake.”
“What exactly did Milton say?”
“Dominic was betrothed to a woman named Monica. Monica was the spoiled, only daughter of a wealthy earl. When Dominic discovered the family wasn’t as prosperous as they led everyone to believe, he killed her.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Rowena shoved her arms into the dressing gown Thora handed her and crawled out of bed.
Thora gasped. “Did that beast hurt you? Oh milady, are you all right?”
Confused by Thora’s concern, Rowena turned back and saw the smears of dried blood on the bed linen. She could claim that her courses had come unexpectedly, but she was weary of lies. “Nothing happened when we returned from the monastery, Thora. He stopped before my maidenhead was breached. If Dominic had not purposely led Sir William to the wrong conclusion, Edwin would have been able to prove his claim. When I was at Windsor Castle, I was still a virgin.”
For a moment Thora just stared at her. She glanced at the evidence on the bed and then back at Rowena. “Then why…he admitted to something he had not done.” She sounded incredulous.
Rowena shook her head. How could she explain something she didn’t understand? Had the gesture been noble and selfless, or had Dominic seen an opportunity he couldn’t resist? “It doesn’t matter now. I’m safe from Edwin once and for all.”
“Are you still bent on ignoring William Marshal, or should we start planning a wedding feast?” Happiness sparkled in Thora’s eyes.
“I have no intention of wedding with Dominic or anyone else until my heart is fully engaged.” Rowena gave the cord around her waist an exaggerated tug.
Thora began to strip the bed. She paused and looked at Rowena. “Then what were you doing last night? You told me William Marshal will see you wed to Dominic if you’re with child.”
“There are ways of preventing…” A wave of icy dread washed over Rowena. Her hands grew numb, and she could hardly think past the ringing in her ears.
“How many times?” Thora’s gaze took on a knowing glint. “How many times did he take you?”
“Three,” Rowena whispered.
“And each time he finished inside you?”
Rowena nodded. “Oh Thora, what have I done?”
* * * * *
“Distracted?” Ezra asked with a mocking smile.
Dominic lay flat on his back in the dirt, glaring up at his friend. “She does seem to have that effect on me.”
Ezra extended a mail-covered hand and Dominic levered himself to his feet. “I believe I’ll go find Ephraim. This is obviously a waste of time.”
Shoving his sword into the sheath secured to his waist, Dominic stomped from the exercise yard and toward the source of his distraction.
Rowena had appeared a short time before. She made no overt attempt to draw his attention, but she had done so implicitly. A mild breeze caught her skirt, fluttering it against her legs. Dominic groaned as he pictured those long, supple legs wrapped around his waist.
Why was she here? This was a soldier’s domain.
As he drew near, her expression confused him even further. Her sleek, dark brows drew together in a frown. The lush fullness of her mouth pressed into a grim line and fury blazed in her wide green eyes.
“I would speak with you.” She waited only long enough for her voice to reach him at a calm, conversational level.
“So I gathered. It is not often that ladies are interested in the routines of fighting men.”
“I have no interest in your routines.”
“Then how may I serve you?”
She drew a slow, deep breath, her delicate nostrils flaring. Her hands had tangled in the long, trailing sleeves of her bliaud so forcefully that her knuckles were white. What in God’s name had made her so angry?
“You served me quite well last night, did you not?”
A virgin often had regrets the morning after, but this was ridiculous. “I’ll not apologize for last night. You were an active participant in the festivities, not a victim.”
She looked around suddenly. Was she afraid of being overheard?
“You made me a promise. You told me that you were not trying to… I will not marry you!”
“I don’t remember asking for your hand.”
“You said you would take measures to ensure that a child did not result from our ‘festivities’. Why did you break your vow?”
Dominic planted his fists on his hips. Sweat trailed into his eyes, and blinking repeatedly only made them sting more. He fidgeted beneath the weight of his hauberk, but he had no weapon to use against her anger. “It wasn’t intentional.”
“Rubbish.”
He took off his mail gantlets and tossed them onto his shoulder. “Rowena.” He reached toward her with his bare hand. “I don’t think either of us were—”
“I will not share the blame with you.” She avoided his fingers and took a quick step backward. “You made me a promise. You failed to do what you said you would do.”
How many “you”s could she squeeze into one sentence? He crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw. “I apologize.”
The flush rose onto her cheeks and her eyes narrowed. “You apologize?”
Her hand flew fast and hard, connecting with his cheek and snapping his face to the side.
“You bastard! You’ll never know if I conceive. I’ll do anything and everything to ensure you never know!”
She started to stomp past him, but he caught her arm and brought her up hard against his chest. “I did not make love to you last night to get you with child!”
“Make love?” She spat the phrase into his face. “There was no love in what transpired last night. You used me. You seduced me to win my castle.”
She jerked her arm out of his grasp and ran toward the keep. Dominic had to keep himself from running after her. They were both too angry to make sense of this now.
“What is God’s name was that about?”
Dominic dragged his eyes away from Rowena and felt his anger deescalate. Ezra stood at the edge of the exercise yard, his sword in hand. Two steps behind him stood nine of Dominic’s men, each armed and ready for battle.
Dominic chuckled, forcing his emotions into submission. “Rushing to my defense? Am I not capable of managing a woman?”
“She struck you, milord,” Hubert said.
“So, you were going to lop off her head?” He nodded toward the sword in Hubert’s hand.
His men laughed. Dominic waved them away. “Back to work, you lazy dogs. I’m safe for now.”
Ezra remained as the others returned to their practice. “Why did she hit you?”
Dominic absently rubbed his stinging cheek. She was surprisingly strong for such a little thing. “Because I deserved it.”
Ezra’s brows drew together, his face scrunching into an expression of disbelief. “You deserved to be slapped?”
“Aye.”
Dominic offered no explanation. He made his way toward the keep, frustrated and angry. He hadn’t even realized he’d not kept his word until she confronted him just now.
Had he been so carried away last night that he’d forgotten his vow? Or was he really a bastard?
* * * * *
Rowena paced her solar like a caged animal. Nothing she did released her frustration. She’d thrown herself on the bed and wept, but she was still angry. She’d smashed an earthen pitcher, but she still fumed. The pacing wasn’t any more effective than her other strategies, so Rowena crossed to the window and threw the shutters wide.
Cold autumn wind assailed her face, fanning her hair out behind her like a banner. She leaned into nature’s bluster and inhaled deeply. Pine, wood smoke, freshly cut hay and rain. She loved the smells of harvest time.
“Where is your veil? Close those shutters. You’ll catch your death.”
Thora bustled up beside her and tried to reach the shutters, but Rowena spun to face her. “I like the wind!” Her hair danced wildly about her face.
“Oh, you’re in quite a state. Milton told me what you did out there.”
Rowena leaned back against the stone sill and closed her eyes. “It was no more than he deserved.”
“You’re fortunate he didn’t beat you senseless. You must know when and how to challenge a man. In front of his men? What were you thinking?”
Opening her eyes, Rowena released a deep, shuddering breath. “What was I thinking? I was thinking that he used me. I was thinking only an utter fool would allow herself to trust a man. I was thinking…” Her voice trailed away as emotion clogged her throat.
Tears of the Dragon Page 13
