Medieval Romantic Legends

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t doubt me again.”

  This brought his head up sharply. His gray eyes bore into her, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean, lass?”

  “You said you wouldn’t doubt me, and yet here you are, questioning my feelings for you and my judgment of your character.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Have you ever murdered innocent women and children as part of your missions for the Bruce?”

  “Nay, and I never will,” he said vehemently. The look of disgust twisting his face at the thought confirmed his words.

  “And you have never…used force against a woman?”

  “Nay.”

  “Have you sought out innocent farmers or laymen on your missions?”

  “Nay…usually leaders in the English army, the ones making strategic decisions. But also soldiers sometimes.” The anger and shame were fading from his voice, to be replaced by cautious curiosity at her line of questioning.

  “Have you tortured men, drawn out their suffering, or maimed them intentionally?”

  “Nay.”

  She leaned forward and placed a hand on his forearm. “My brother has done all of those things, and probably more that I don’t know about.” The words were hard to say, for the thought of her only living family member being so horrendous and cruel twisted her stomach, but she had to make him understand. “I have known bad men, Garrick, and you aren’t one of them.”

  He inhaled sharply, his eyes suddenly flooding with pain. “You mean…you don’t care that I’ve killed, and that I’ll keep killing for the Bruce?”

  She paused, choosing her words carefully. “What I truly wish for is peace,” she said finally. “I hope that some day you no longer have to fight for Scotland’s freedom, that you no longer have to carry the burden of taking lives for the cause.”

  He sank his head into his hands, and she couldn’t read his expression for a moment. But then he raised his head again, his eyes searing her with their intensity and depth of emotion. “How is it that you understand me so well, that you accept me and my flaws, and at the same time make me better?”

  His words shattered her. “You deserve forgiveness, Garrick. And happiness.”

  “I don’t think I deserve you at all, lass. But you’re right,” he said ruefully, “I said I wouldn’t doubt your judgment.”

  “And I want to be with you,” she said, emotion tightening her voice. “I am choosing freely, and I choose you.” She had already given him her heart. Now she wanted to share her body and her pleasure with him.

  He seemed to read her mind. “Are you sure? There would be no going back, and nothing is certain about our future. The war could go on, or something could happen…”

  He didn’t have to say it, but he was warning her that he could be hurt or even killed. But she had worked as a healer long enough to know that nothing was ever certain about the future. She had seen healthy, strong men fall ill and die in a matter of days, and she had seen the weak and sickly recover and lead long lives. The only thing she could do was seize happiness when it came. And she was happy with Garrick, despite everything they had been through together.

  “I’m sure.”

  He rose slowly and extended a hand to her to help her off the ground. His eyes were locked on her, their intensity burning into her. Just as he pulled her closer to him, a thought popped into her head.

  “What about Burke? What if he comes back?”

  A little smile played at the corners of his lips. “He does have impeccably bad timing,” he said.

  She didn’t quite manage to suppress a nervous giggle. Everything they had said, everything that had passed between them, and the thought of what was about to happen, were all swirling inside her, creating a heady maelstrom of anticipation.

  He bent and grabbed a stick from the ground, then quickly scrawled out several words in the dirt.

  “Nemo me impune lacessit…that’s Latin for ‘no one attacks me with impunity’ isn’t it?” she said, reading over his shoulder.

  “Aye. It’s a phrase that’s been floating around the Bruce’s camp, and has lately spread to some of the other clans getting involved in the rebellion. It’s a motto of sorts, a reminder that Scotland is like a thistle—you can’t grab us without at least getting a handful of thorns.” He smiled wolfishly at her, and she had to suppress another giggle.

  “If Burke comes back before we do, he’ll know that all is well when he sees this,” Garrick said.

  Suddenly, he seemed to forget all about Burke and his message, for he dropped the stick and turned the full power of his gaze on her. His eyes were hungry, and she abruptly felt like she was his mark, that he was homing in on his target. It thrilled her to be so desired by this hard yet good-hearted man. Reading the heated look she was sending back at him, he took her by the hand and started walking off into the woods.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To find some privacy,” he said. “I want to do this right.”

  Another shiver of anticipation went through her. They were going to make love, to fully sate their desire for each other—if it could be sated. All of their previous kisses and that passionate night by the creek had only increased her hunger for connection with him.

  She tried to ignore the tiny stone of fear sitting in the bottom of her stomach. She had been told she would bleed, at least the first time, and that it would be painful and unpleasant every time. But she reminded herself that no one had ever told her there might also be longing and pleasure involved, only that she shouldn’t want to do it, and that there would be consequences if she did. She was beginning to realize, though, that her nursemaids had hidden much from her. She wished suddenly that her mother were still alive, or at least that she had a close friend to confide in. After her parents’ death, however, her brother had kept her isolated and ignorant. But he was no longer in control of her. She was making her own choices now, and her heart told her that it would be right with Garrick.

  He wove through the forest quickly, and she hurried behind him, her hand in his. His ability to move swiftly and smoothly still caught her off guard, but at the moment, she was grateful for his confidence and speed in traversing the forest. The woods changed slightly as they traveled farther away from the Borderlands. Now the forest surrounding her was comprised more of pine trees rather than oak and yew. The ground had also become rockier and more hilly, reminding her that they were headed toward the more rugged northern regions of Scotland.

  He halted next to a large rock outcropping surrounded by trees. She didn’t see anything particularly noteworthy about this specific rock face, but then he pushed his hand through a clump of shrubs, parting the leafy branches with his arms, and a hollow cavity appeared in the rock. He held back the shrubbery, and she squeezed past him into the cave. He followed her in, and when he let the branches go, they snapped back into place, concealing the opening of the cave.

  It was dim inside despite the bright midday sunlight on the other side of the shrubbery. The temperature was cool, and the smell of stone and dried leaves hung in the air. The top of the cave was high enough for her to stand upright, but Garrick had to stoop slightly, even at the mouth where the ceiling was highest. The little hollow space in the rock only extended a dozen feet or so, narrowing as it went back.

  She turned from her perusal of the cave and nearly bumped into him. He had silently moved in closer to her. Her heart was suddenly pounding in her chest, and her skin felt flushed and itchy despite the cool air of the cave.

  Slowly, he reached for her hair, undoing the ribbon at the tail of her braid. Most of her hair had already come loose, but his hands wove through the remains of her braid, pulling her tresses free and sending them cascading wildly across her back and shoulders.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured to himself, letting the strands slip through his fingers.

  Then, he turned his gaze on her face, and the rapt hunger in his eyes nearly made her gasp. Before she could,
his mouth descended on hers in a penetrating kiss.

  She tried to match his caresses and teases, but he overpowered her, taking control of her lips and tongue. She surrendered to both of their passion, thrilling in the feel of his strength and powerful desire. He slipped a hand around the back of her head, holding her in place and tangling his fingers in her loose hair. He squeezed his hand slightly, tugging on her hair, and she gasped at the tingling sensation that shot from her scalp to the spot between her legs, which was already aching in anticipation.

  He pulled her closer, his other hand reaching behind her to the ties running down the back of her dress. Her breasts felt tight and needy, and their contact against his chest was only making it worse—or better.

  He tugged distractedly at the ties as she rubbed her chest against his with a little moan. That seemed to drive him even wilder, for he ripped his lips from hers so he could grip the material of her dress at the shoulders and tug it down. Her dress passed her breasts, then her hips, and was soon in a puddle on the floor of the cave.

  The combination of her heated skin and the cool air brushing against her thin chemise sent a shiver through her. But it didn’t last long, because he pulled her to him again, and she was enveloped in his warmth and his masculine scent. She could feel the heat of his hands through the material of her chemise as he moved over her waist, back, and eventually to her bottom. He gripped her, pulling her against him, and she could feel his hard length pressing into her stomach.

  He moved his kiss from her mouth to her neck, where he nibbled and teased her sensitive skin. Her breath was coming more quickly now, and her body was taking over. She wasn’t thinking anymore, only feeling and responding. She let her fingers sink into his shoulders, twisting in the material of his shirt.

  Suddenly impatient to feel more of his skin, she tugged up on his shirt. He helped her pull it the rest of the way over his head, and she was rewarded with the sight of every chiseled plane and honed line of his muscular torso.

  Mesmerized by the sight of his perfect physique, she let her fingers gently trail over his shoulders and down his broad chest, then lower still to his trim, yet muscular, waist. She dragged a fingernail along the top of his kilt where the fabric met his skin. He shuddered under her touch, letting her explore him.

  But soon, he, too, grew impatient, for he growled lowly. Then his hands flew to the ties on her chemise. In a matter of seconds, the ties were loose, and the fabric was slipping from her shoulders. It whispered past her hips, and then joined her dress at her feet.

  For a moment, she felt exposed standing naked before him, but then she noticed the way he was staring at her. His eyes devoured her like she was the most delicious thing he had ever seen. She watched him as his gaze moved over her naked body, his eyes lingering on her breasts, her waist, the flair of her hips, and her legs—especially where they met.

  Garrick jerked slightly as if waking from a dream. He reached his hands toward her slowly, as if to make sure that she was real. When he touched her, it was feather-soft, and she shivered at the contact. He skimmed his hands over her exposed skin, seeming to try to memorize every contour of her body just by touch. Finally, he seemed to be assured that she wasn’t going anywhere. He let his hands drop from her, but only to unfasten the belt holding his pleated kilt up.

  In one smooth motion, he undid his belt and caught the material of his kilt even as it began to unpleat and slide down his hips. She couldn’t help staring at the sight that was revealed to her. The hard lines of his torso continued down his hips and muscular legs. But what really drew her attention was his large manhood standing up from his body.

  She felt her lips part slightly of their own volition. She had felt him with her hand before, and had begun to get to know the smooth hardness of his manhood, but seeing it was different. She hadn’t realized it was so—big. She knew the basics of what would happen next, but she was suddenly unsure if it would work.

  He spread his plaid out on the floor of the cave and brought her down to sit next to him on it. “Don’t worry, lass,” he said, seeming to read her mind. “It can be even better that it was by the creek.”

  “Better?” she breathed, the memory of the aching buildup and soaring release causing more heat to flood her body.

  “Aye,” he said huskily.

  He pulled her down further onto the plaid so that she lay on her back with him leaning on one elbow over her. He bent his head toward her, but instead of kissing her, he captured one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasped and immediately arched, all traces of doubt fleeing as another wave of sensation crashed over her. One of his hands trailed down between her legs, and as he had before, he brushed across her most sensitive place with his fingertips. She instinctively opened her legs slightly, giving him more access.

  “That’s it, lass,” he whispered against her breast.

  Just as he had before, he teased the damp curls and folds, then found that electric spot that shot instant pleasure through her. The aching was building inside her, but she longed for more contact, more sensation.

  As if knowing exactly what she wanted even if she couldn’t have articulated it, he let one of his fingers slip inside her. She gasped and moaned at the added sensation. She suddenly felt a deeper ache, one that would not be relieved by the feathery touches he had given her earlier.

  He withdrew his finger slowly, and the needy emptiness grew, but then he slid back in, and the motion sent her even closer to the paradise she now knew waited ahead. He set an achingly slow pace, sliding his finger in and out as he swirled his tongue around her nipple. She was sure that at any moment she would come completely undone.

  Suddenly, he cursed and removed both his hand and his mouth from her body. Her eyes flew open in surprise, and she realized he was positioning himself between her legs. His jaw was clenched and his face was taut with pained concentration, and it dawned on her that even though she had barely touched him, he was wound tight with desire.

  “I have to have you. Now,” he breathed.

  His manhood nudged at her entrance, and she realized that the moment had finally come. She would no longer be a maiden. She would be a woman, and one who had chosen the most enthralling man she had ever known as her lover.

  He eased into her slowly, and at first, the sensation was not painful, just foreign. But as he continued to move into her, the tightness increased. He was so large that she felt stretched to her limit. The pleasure slipped toward discomfort, then he pushed all the way in, and pain stabbed through her. She cried out, and he cursed but held himself inside her.

  He was all the way on top of her now, but he had his weight propped on one elbow so that he wasn’t crushing her. With his free hand, he began circling one of her nipples with the pad of his thumb. The pain still tore through her, but it began mixing with some of the old pleasure. He withdrew partway from her, which eased the pain, but then he sank in again. When he was all the way inside, the tightness and pain pinched again, but this time slightly less that before.

  He kept up this slow rhythm, and each time he pushed into her, the pain mingled with her building pleasure. When she was panting and moaning once more in anticipation of the flood of pleasure ahead, he let the hand on her breast drop to grip one of her thighs, pushing her bent leg up higher. He sank even deeper into her now, and his thrusts increased in pace.

  She hitched even higher, sensation tearing through her. She kept climbing and climbing, reaching for release. He pulled back and sank inside her again, and it was the final straw. She felt herself shattering into a thousand shards of pure pleasure. Molten heat suffused her, and she cried out in ecstasy. With one more hard thrust, a groan tore from him as he joined her in release. He held himself inside of her, both of them gasping for breath and pulsing as their hearts pounded.

  As she drifted back down to earth, he withdrew from her.

  “Did I hurt you, lass?” he said, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

  “Not by the end,” sh
e said breathily. A deep contentedness was seeping into her limbs. She felt like she was made of warm honey.

  “It is only like that the first time. After that, it is all the pleasure with none of the pain,” he said.

  She quirked a smile. “Really? I suppose I’ll have to experience it to believe it.”

  “That can be arranged,” he said with a devilish lift of one eyebrow.

  She longed to stare at his ruggedly handsome face, drink in the sight of his perfectly honed body, but suddenly, her eyelids felt heavy.

  He pulled her into his arms, settling her head on his chest. “Rest now, lass.”

  The last thing she remembered was his callused fingertips stroking her hair and bare shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  When Jossalyn woke, she was disoriented for a moment. The cave’s dimness prevented her from knowing how long she had slept or what time it was. But Garrick’s warm, strong arms were still around her, which made her feel at ease. He was absently playing with a strand of her golden hair. They were both still naked, their legs intertwined, though he had pulled up part of his plaid to cover them.

  “How long did I sleep?” she said, lazily stretching.

  “A few hours.”

  She sat bolt upright. “A few hours? Don’t we have to keep moving?”

  He looked up at her from his position on his back. “Aye, but I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed so content.”

  She smiled softly at his words, feeling warmed by the memories of why she felt so languid and pleased. “I appreciate that, but I’m sure Burke has begun to worry.”

  He waved a hand dismissively, but slowly sat up next to her. “Aye, you’re probably right.” Even still, he didn’t make any moves to get up. Instead, he let his eyes roam over her naked body.

  She forced herself to rise despite the fact that she longed to wrap herself around him again and sleep for another few days. She went to the pile of her clothes a few feet away, but when she bent to pick up her chemise, she felt a twinge of pain between her legs. She must have winced, for Garrick stiffened.