Autumn's Touch (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 3)

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Autumn's Touch (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 3) Page 16

by Elizabeth Rose


  “What’s the matter?” she asked. “I’m ready for you to kiss me.”

  “Sometimes it’s better to take our time getting there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He looked around the room as if he were searching for something. Then he sat down on the bed and took her face in his hands. “Just relax,” he told her, running his hands over her hair and then unwinding the thick ribbon from her braid and letting her hair fall free.

  “Oh, you want to see my long hair again.” She thought she understood until he let go of her hair and pulled the ribbon tight between his hands with a snapping sound. Suddenly, she wondered if she should have trusted him. He had a look in his eyes that scared her. Thoughts of his bloody dagger filled her head and she could barely speak. “Y- you’re going to strangle me.”

  He smiled and it helped to ease her fear. “Nay, my little blossom. I could never hurt someone as kind and as selfless as you. This is for purposes of pleasure only, I assure you. Now close your eyes.”

  “C-close my eyes?” If he were to kill her now, she would never be able to see it coming.

  “Trust me, Autumn.” He grazed the back of his fingers against her cheek. It felt gentle, intimate and loving. She liked being touched by a man in this way.

  “I trust you,” she heard herself say aloud, even though she didn’t think she’d said it. Once more, his hand brushed gently across her face, making her skin tingle. Her eyes closed as she surrendered to his touch.

  “Sometimes, it is also better not to anticipate something like a kiss that should be a spontaneous act carried out in a moment of passion.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, feeling him putting the ribbon around her eyes like a blindfold and tying it gently behind her head.

  “Now, we’re ready. I want you to use your other senses besides sight.”

  “My other senses? I don’t understand.”

  “Experience the kiss without seeing it coming. Feel it instead.”

  “All right,” she said, still not knowing what he meant until she heard the rustle of his clothes and felt the heat of his body as he moved closer. She took a deep breath and then released it, trying not to anticipate the kiss as he said. That’s when she felt the slight scratch of the stubble of his cheek as he gently rubbed his face against hers. When she next took a deep breath, she inhaled his manly essence mingled with the scent of mint from the candle burning next to the bed. The logs on the fire snapped, and she could hear the sound of her breathing as well as his.

  All fear left her. Instead, she was filled with the sensual experience of being alone with a man in a room. It was very inviting.

  His lips brushed over hers in a teasing manner, pulling back when she raised her mouth, making her want more.

  “Not yet,” he said in a low and sultry voice, running the tip of his finger across her lips next. It tickled. When she smiled, he ran his finger against the inside of her bottom lip and it brushed against her tongue.

  She tasted his essence. It was only his finger, but she craved more. She wanted him to kiss her and put his tongue inside her mouth again.

  “Benedict, please,” she pleaded. “Kiss me.”

  “All in good time, my impatient, little fae. The next thing you should know is that a kiss is not always on the mouth.”

  She didn’t have the chance to ask him what he meant. His lips were on her cheek next and then his hot breath filled her ear as he nibbled on her earlobe. She jerked backward in surprise, not expecting that move. When next his kisses trailed down her jawline and along the length of her neck, her head fell slightly to the side.

  “I like that,” she said, breathing deeper as she felt his mouth travel to the hollow at the base of her neck. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but she felt his breath getting lower and lower as his light kisses continued downward toward her cleavage. His tongue traced a path in between her breasts and she gasped in surprise. She liked the feel of his tongue on her skin. Her back arched up off the bed as she felt his fingers glide over her side. His hand gently slid upward and stopped for a moment covering her breast. Then it continued higher until he held her face between his palms.

  Finally, came the kiss she’d been waiting for. With her face between his hands, he lifted her chin tenderly and his mouth came down to claim hers. It was a teasing kiss as he pulled at her bottom lip with his mouth and gently released it. Then he came back for more. Without her sight, it was all she could do to keep from reaching for his lips with her mouth.

  He played with her, tempting and taking, and then releasing and letting her go. Desire grew within her. A heat engulfed her and a tingling sensation ran from her lips all the way to her most private place between her thighs. She wanted to kiss him, needed to taste him. But he kept pulling away, about driving her from her mind.

  “Benedict, please,” she begged. “Don’t tease me anymore. I want to kiss you like we kissed in the field. I want to taste the power on your lips and feel my heart skip a beat like when your tongue entered my mouth.”

  He paused a moment and she thought he wouldn’t grant her the request. But then she heard him answer in a hoarse whisper. “Then that is what you shall have, my lady.”

  His mouth claimed hers in a full kiss that made her heart soar. She reached up and blindly ran her hands through his long hair, bringing his face closer, not allowing him to tease her and pull away again. Their kiss deepened. She reveled in the taste of strength and power mixed with passion. Every fiber of her being felt alive and excited. Not wanting him to stop until she experienced the kiss with his tongue again, she threw caution to the wind and decided she would be the one to initiate that action tonight. Not knowing the proper way to do it, she decided to mimic the action he’d done to her. She parted her lips and daringly let the tip of her tongue enter his mouth, touching his tongue in the process.

  “Mmmm,” Benedict muttered against Autumn’s mouth. He was surprised when her tongue flicked out against his. Desire coursed through him and he kissed her deeper, slipping his tongue inside her warm, moist mouth, imagining it was a different part of her body completely. Excitement surged through him. His manhood stiffened and it took all his restraint not to take her right now. A deep, low moan lodged at the back of his throat as she innocently traced his lips with the tip of her tongue.

  He couldn’t do this much longer before he turned beastly. If this kissing continued, he would not be able to stop himself from pushing up her skirts and thrusting his hardened manhood in between her nether-lips, making her know what it really felt like to be a full-fledged woman.

  His body was as hot as the fires of hell as he struggled with his insatiable desire to have her. He had to remind himself he’d promised her she would still be a virgin when she one day married. Oh, why had he ever told her that?

  “That’s enough for tonight.” He jumped off the bed, turning away in order hide his erection.

  “We’re finished so soon?”

  He looked back over his shoulder to see her sitting up and pulling off the ribbon that served as a blindfold. Her long, mussed fire-red locks fell in waves around her shoulders. Her lips were wet and swollen and her face and upper chest were rosy. Damn, if she wasn’t a vixen in the guise of an innocent angel.

  “Oh, we’re far from finished, my little fae,” he said. “I can promise you, we have only just begun.”

  Chapter 17

  Autumn hummed happily to herself as she worked with the children cleaning out the rest of the herb garden. It was a bright, sunny day and she was feeling so alive after last night that she couldn’t wait to continue her lessons with Benedict.

  Never had she thought a mere kiss could be so sensuous and exciting. Benedict had, indeed, fanned the embers of desire and they were growing quickly to flames.

  “I want to see the eggs,” said Rab, jumping up and down trying to see inside the robin’s nest. The bird was scolding him from a branch above his head.

  “Rab, you are upsetting the mother.” She walked br
iskly to his side and picked him up to peer inside the nest.

  “What do you see?” she asked.

  “I see an ugly monster,” said the boy.

  “What?” She put him down and took a look into the nest and her heart soared. “One of the eggs has hatched. She has a baby! Boys, come here, quickly,” she called out in a soft voice to Torkel and Enar. “Girls, come see the baby.”

  Ishbel and Iona, who were also working in the garden, walked quickly to her side. The boys came at a run.

  “Slowly,” she warned the others with her hand out. She glanced up to the branch where the mother was clucking at them. “You don’t want to scare the baby.”

  “He looks ugly with those big black blobs,” said Torkel.

  “Those are its eyes. They are not open yet and won’t be for at least several days.”

  “It’s such a wee thing,” said Iona.

  “And frail,” added Ishbel.

  “Why are none of the others hatched yet?” asked Enar, standing on his tiptoes, stretching his neck to see into the nest.

  “The eggs don’t hatch all at once, but rather over the course of a few days,” Autumn told them. “We’ll keep watching and, soon, all the babies will be born. But for now, we need to get away from the nest.”

  “Why?” asked Rab.

  “Because, ye simpkin, the mother bird doesna like it,” said Torkel.

  “That’s right,” agreed Autumn. “She is a protective mother and might even try to attack us if she thinks we’re threatening her babies.”

  “Let’s go tell Lord Ravenscar,” said Rab excitedly.

  “Why bother?” grumbled Torkel. “He’ll probably smash the eggs he’s so mean.”

  “Torkel, that isn’t true,” said Autumn, directing the children away from the nest. “Benedict is not mean.”

  “Benedict?” asked Torkel looking at her oddly.

  “I mean, Lord Ravenscar,” she corrected herself, already feeling the flush of her cheeks for making such a careless mistake in front of the children. “Don’t forget he was the one to give you pallets and let you sleep with me in the tower room.”

  “He’s also the one who made us sleep in the undercroft without a change of clothes,” grumbled Enar.

  “Boys, you’re not being fair. It was the other Lord Ravenscar – the one who died - who made you sleep in the undercroft. The new Lord Ravenscar – Lord Benedict – saved you all from being killed. He brought you to Ravenscar Castle instead.”

  “To be servants,” said Ishbel.

  “Nay, Lady Autumn is right,” said Iona, putting her hands on Rab’s shoulders. “We were all orphans to begin with and had nowhere to go after the battle. I’m sure we would have been killed if he hadna brought us here.”

  “Ye’re only sayin’ that because ye like his squire,” said Torkel.

  “Nay, that isna true,” said Iona.

  “His squire? You mean Nelek?” asked Autumn with a smile. She could tell by the redness of Iona’s face that she did fancy the young man.

  “Let’s go tell Lord Ravenscar about the bird,” said Rab again.

  “I don’t know,” said Autumn. “He is on the practice field today and I’m not sure it’s a good idea to bother him.”

  When Rab continued begging, Autumn decided it might not hurt to take him to the practice yard. The boy seemed to accept Benedict and she wanted all the others to accept him, too. “Well, I think we’re finished here for the day so, perhaps, we can take a walk to the practice yard after all.”

  “I promised I’d help Nairnie in the kitchen,” said Ishbel, making up an excuse not to go.

  “I have to go to the stables,” said Enar.

  “I’m goin’ to take a nap on my new pallet,” said Torkel.

  “I’ll go with ye, Lady Autumn,” offered Iona. That told Autumn that the girl did, indeed, have her eye on the squire since she was sure to know he’d be there. Autumn couldn’t wait to see Benedict again. She only hoped he would be excited to see her, too.

  * * *

  “Damn it, Nelek, if you can’t fight like a warrior than step aside and let someone else practice with me.” Benedict was in a foul mood this morning, having tossed and turned all night and finally having to take a swim in the cold lake to cool the burning fires of desire inside of him for Lady Autumn.

  He should never have agreed to play her little game because he was losing and he didn’t like to lose at anything. By bringing her flames of passion to life, he’d only managed to create a bonfire within himself. His desire for her was burning out of control and he could do nothing about it. He’d promised Lady Autumn he wouldn’t take her virginity and now he wished he had never agreed to such a stupid thing! She was naught but a temptress and too naïve to even realize it.

  Nay, he couldn’t go on with their little lessons of love. It would drive him mad – unless he didn’t keep his word. Part of him wanted to ravage her, have his way with her, and not listen to her pleas to preserve her virginity. After all, that’s what the old Ravenscar would have done. Why should he be any different?

  Then there was the other side to the situation. Nairnie’s words kept ringing in his ears to stay away from Autumn. The old woman was afraid he was going to hurt her. Mayhap he would at that. He didn’t know what to do or think where Autumn was concerned. All he knew is that he needed to burn off some steam on the practice field and sparring against his squire was not going to do it.

  “I’ll spar with you.” Oxley walked out of the shadows with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “I thought I told you to stay up on the battlements,” growled Benedict, not at all happy to see him.

  “I was up there,” he told him. “I came down to tell you I saw a strange ship sail past our port late last night. I think it might have been a Scottish ship. They are probably planning a raid. We need to prepare to fight off their attack as soon as they arrive.”

  “Why would the Scots pass up our harbor if they were planning an attack?” asked Benedict. “You are just itching for a battle, Oxley.”

  “Sir Oxley,” the man said with a curl of his upper lip, but Benedict just ignored him.

  “You’re not going to get a battle unless I command it to happen. Now raise your weapon and spar with me so I can knock you back down into place.”

  “With pleasure.” Oxley pulled his sword from his scabbard and the two of them faced each other with weapons drawn. Both of them walked in a circle, waiting for the other to strike out first.

  “Lord Ravenscar,” called out what sounded like the orphan, Rab. When Benedict turned his head to look, Oxley lunged forward. Benedict raised his sword just in time or Oxley would have struck him. The man had no intention of holding back.

  “So that’s the way you want to play,” said Benedict. His sword clashed with Oxley’s.

  “Lord Ravenscar, come see the bird,” cried out Rab. That was followed by the sound of Autumn’s voice telling the boy to be quiet.

  God’s eyes, was she here, too? Autumn was the last person he wanted to see right now. She was going to be naught but a distraction. He couldn’t move his attention away from Oxley. If he did, the man would take off his head the first chance he got.

  Benedict was managing to hold Oxley at bay and even gaining on him. He liked the idea that Autumn was watching and hoped she’d be impressed with his fighting skills. All was going in his favor until, from the corner of his eye, he saw a bird land on the fence of the lists. Next, Rab cried out, saying something about not hitting a bird. Before he knew it, the little boy was in the field, running right toward them. Oxley had his back to the boy and with the way he was swinging, it was quite dangerous.

  “Rab, come back here,” he heard Autumn call out and then saw her ducking under the fence and coming onto the field, too. Iona watched from the lists.

  “That’s enough,” he shouted to Oxley, but the man kept on swinging. It was all he could do to fend for himself and keep an eye on the boy and Autumn. “I said that’s enough. There�
��s a child on the field behind you, now put down the sword before someone gets hurt.”

  “You lie,” said Oxley, turning a full circle with his sword drawn. Rab ran toward the bird and stopped, but managed to get nicked by Oxley’s sword. The little boy clutched his arm and fell to the ground crying.

  “What the hell is the matter with you? I told you there was a child on the practice field. You could have killed him!” Benedict shoved Oxley out of the way and reached down to help Rab to his feet.

  “You should have let the whelps die instead of bringing them to Ravenscar in the first place,” said Oxley. “You were weak to convince our liege lord to let those orphans live here as servants. They’re bloody Scots and will only cause us trouble!”

  “Get back up to the battlements before I’m forced to throw you in the dungeon for speaking back to me.” Benedict’s anger flared and he felt like killing the man.

  “You’re not Ravenscar and I’ll never give you the respect I gave him.” Oxley sheathed his sword and stormed off toward the battlements.

  “Rab, are you all right?” Autumn ran to him, reaching out to look at the boy’s arm. Iona came running across the field right behind her. “You’ve been cut. We need to get you back to my chamber at once where I can tend to your wound.”

  “Just do it here,” said Benedict. “Use your healing touch. There’s no need to wait until we get to the chamber.”

  Autumn’s heart jumped when Benedict told her to use her healing touch. Ever since she’d used it to heal him, she hadn’t felt the same vibrancy and tingling of the energy that she’d once had.

  “I – I don’t know if I can,” she admitted.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, almost shouting to be heard over the boy’s screams.

  “I’ll try,” she said, hunkering down and trying to calm Rab. “It’s all right, Rab,” she said in a calm and steady voice. “I want you to move your hand away so I can see your wound.”

  He continued to scream, his eyes closed and his face turning bright red. Still, he didn’t move his hand. Iona tried to calm him as well, but to no avail.

 

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