But there had been a moment during the meal when she’d decided that this night would be for her and not her father or anyone else. William had been watching her throughout the meal—also part of her father’s planning—and she watched him as he described his visit to the west of Scotland. His face lit and the smile softened his features until she wanted to reach out and touch him.
Which she had done, once everyone was gone.
Her body throbbed from his kisses and the strength in his embrace. Her blood heated, from desire not from the power in it. The taste of his mouth and the sweet she’d fed him lingered yet on her tongue. She wanted to feast on him, to touch more than just his hand or his face. She wanted . . .
Him.
For herself. Not as a pawn in some plan.
Looking around, she saw no one. She listened and silence greeted her. Everyone, including the servants, had retired, knowing the busy and early morning they faced. Peeking through the crack once more, she saw that he’d reached the steps of the keep.
If she could not have him forever, could she instead have him for this night?
She was across the yard, using the shadows to cover her movements as she went, before she realized she’d made the decision. He’d gone in the side door, so she followed, not wanting to lose him since she did not know her way around the main keep yet. Creeping along the edge of the hall, she passed by those who slept here, careful not to wake anyone.
He’d already entered the chamber when she reached the floor above. She watched as light escaped underneath the door and knew which was his. Brienne waited for a minute or two before his door, gathering her courage, then lifted the latch as quietly as she could and slipped inside the chamber.
He stood naked by the bed.
She must have made a sound, for he had his dagger in his hand and turned to face whatever threat had entered in seconds.
He stood naked in the light of a sputtering candle.
Brienne could not have looked away if her life depended on her doing so. She’d seen him clothed and seen him fighting in only his breeches. But to see every muscle and limb, defined and covered only by the flickering shadows of the candle, took her breath away.
He was magnificent. His brown hair barely touched the wide shoulders that tapered to a thinner waist and hips. Strong, muscular thighs rippled as he moved. Curly, dark hair covered his chest and narrowed as it formed a pathway down past his waist. And that part of him that hung between his legs was as well formed as the rest of his body.
And when it began to thicken and rise, she knew she’d felt it when she’d sat on his lap in the alcove.
“Demoiselle, what are you doing here?” he asked.
He made no attempt to cover himself, and she was glad of it. If nothing else came of this night, she would have the memory of him standing like this forever. But she could not put words together while he stood there naked.
“You should not be here,” he said, walking to her and reaching for the door. “What if someone saw you?”
“I was careful,” she explained, finally able to speak.
He opened the door a bit and peered out into the darkness as she watched and waited.
“I will dress and escort you back,” he said, grabbing the garments that lay in a pile at his feet.
The movement made the flame of the candle flicker and threaten to go out, so she took care of that, making it burn a little brighter so she could see every inch of him. He glanced at her and then the candle and back again as though he suspected something, but he turned back to dress.
“William,” she said, walking to his side and touching his shoulder. It was warm beneath her fingers. And strong. And hard muscle. “I did not wish this night to be over yet.”
“Brienne, this is not a good idea. There will be hellish consequences if you are discovered in my chambers. Hellish for me, worse for you, I think.”
He did not pause in trying to pull on his breeches, so she did what she needed to do to distract him. She lifted her hand and kissed him instead. His skin was hot, and his indrawn breath let her know he was affected by her kiss. He spun away and shook his head.
She did not let it stop her. If pain had not stopped her from pursuing the truth of her beginnings, pleasure—or the promise of it—would not stop her now. So she used the truth now.
“You will leave on the morrow, and I will be left here to live at my father’s whim and will. I just watched him toss Adelaide into a marriage that she had no say in,” she began. “I understand it is a daughter’s duty to obey and accept his wisdom, but I am not accustomed to his ways.”
She took a step toward him again and lifted her hand to touch him, this time his chest, outlining the ridges of muscle down to his stomach with her fingers.
“I pray you, William, be with me tonight. Let me make the choice before my father takes it from me.”
She could see the desire and the wanting flare in his eyes as though he controlled the fire. His fingers curled into fists and released, over and over, as if he was trying to keep from touching her.
“Brienne,” he whispered, his voice full of longing and hoarse with passion. “You know that I want you. I have wanted you from the moment I saw you. There is something between us I cannot explain.”
She could. She could tell him what she knew. She could do it now, but she knew her father planned to on the morrow. Brienne wanted to have him this night before the knowledge of their fates was known.
“Shhhhhh,” she urged, placing her finger over his lips. “Kiss me. Kiss me now.”
And, like a storm, he did. Overwhelmed by his touch, she let him have his way with her. He slid his hands into her hair and shook it free of the braid. Then he brought her to his mouth and kissed her until she was breathless and unable to speak. Brienne held on to him, sliding her hands over his skin and feeling the way his body responded to her touch.
She felt him tug on the laces of her gown and stood in his embrace as he pushed the gown off her shoulders and down to her hips. Her shift followed, exposing her breasts to him. When she tried to cover herself, suddenly shy about him seeing her, he laughed.
“Oh no, chérie,” he said, gently lifting her arms and caressing the sensitive tips of her breasts with the backs of his hands. “It is only fair that I get to see you as you have seen me.” He eased her gown and shift down over her hips then and let them fall to the floor. “Ah, magnifique! As I thought you would be.”
For a moment, Brienne’s boldness skittered away, leaving her trembling. Then his hands began their magic, and heat flowed through her. This heat was the one he created as he cupped her breasts and lowered his mouth there. Her breath escaped in short gasps with each touch of his tongue. But when he began to tease with his teeth and then sucked on the tips, her knees buckled and she fell against him.
William caught her, sliding his arm beneath her legs and carrying her to his bed. He laid her on top of the bedcovers and climbed up next to her. Now his body touched hers from shoulders to feet and everywhere in between. The hard maleness pressed against her hip now, and she felt its sleek flesh against her skin. She reached out, curious about how it would feel in her hand, but he stopped her.
“Not yet, Brienne. Touch me anywhere but there.”
She thought this was her choice, but her body quickly fell under his control. Her body ached and throbbed as his fingers explored and caressed every inch of her. He teased her skin, kissed her breasts and her mouth, moving, always moving and giving attention as he did. When he suckled her breasts, the heat and moisture gathered between her legs, and she arched against his hand with each inch he moved closer to touching her there.
When he drew circles with his fingers, gently touching across the top of her thighs, onto her hips and across her belly, she cried out. Everything within her tightened, tightened, tightened until she could not breathe. Her legs fell open and she
grabbed his hand, needing it . . . wanting it . . . there.
“Do you want something?” he whispered against her ear. “Should I touch you . . . here?” he asked as he finally slid his fingers into that place, and she let out a sigh of relief at his touch. “Ah, so hot, so wet for me.”
Relief turned quickly to something else as he explored the folds of her flesh there, with his finger and then fingers, rubbing slowly, then faster. Just as she thought she would burst somehow, he would ease the pressure until she moved away from some edge.
He praised her in his language with words she could not understand. His mouth and his tongue never stopped, and he moved them at a pace that had her arching against his hand and his mouth, begging for something. Whatever lay just . . . there . . . out of her reach.
He arched against her hip, sliding the length of him at the same pace, and she wanted to take him in her hand and hold his flesh, but every intention fell away when he slipped one finger inside her. Her body thrust up, trying to take him in deeper, but he laughed and withdrew it. Then he moved it in a circle, from outside to inside, harder, then softer, faster, then slower.
She was going to die. She was going to explode in the flames of passion he stroked.
“Please,” she begged.
“Now?” he asked before licking his way back to her breasts. His hand did not stop its torment, and her hips lifted off the bed, begging as she had.
All it took was one slight rub against some small place in the folds between her legs and it pushed her to the place that waited. Her muscles tightened and then shuddered, the channel leading to her core spasmed and throbbed, and everything in her let go until she fell. She released the scream trapped within her throat, and he caught it with his mouth, kissing her and thrusting his tongue as he did his finger until she was . . . empty.
The first thing she realized was that his breathing was now normal and even against her ear.
The next thing was that she had not fallen at all. She had flown in his embrace, for his arms held her securely against his body as they lay on his bed.
The last thing she noticed was that he was still hard against her hip.
She tried to turn and found her body would not obey her commands. So empty and so tranquil, all the longing and desire that had filled her was satisfied.
“Magnifique,” she whispered, imitating his accent of the word.
“Aye, you were,” he said. “Like fire in my hands.”
She opened her eyes and met his gaze then. Had he meant that?
“You have not . . . You did not . . .” She glanced down at his flesh between them.
“Nay, Brienne,” he said, kissing her face as he leaned back and looked at her. “As much as I want to, you are not mine to claim. I could not take what is meant for another.”
They lay in silence, and Brienne savored the feel of him on her skin. A few minutes passed, and she felt him slide away from her and climb from the bed. The candle had sputtered out, unnoticed by either of them at the time. Now he lit it once more and dressed in his breeches and shirt. She watched his every movement, fighting the urge to touch him again. He did not try to hide or turn from her as he did so, allowing her to gaze on his body as he slowly covered it with his garments.
“Come,” he said, holding his hand out to her. “’Tis time for you to return to your chambers before they know you are not there.”
Knowing she could not stay the night did not lessen her reluctance to leave him now. They’d had their moment of passion and pleasure and, if he did leave on the morrow, she would remember it.
He handled her as though she was a precious thing, and she allowed his care as he helped her with her shift and gown. Looking down, she laughed then, seeing that she still wore her stockings and shoes.
“You were in some haste,” he teased.
Soon she was dressed and her hair gathered in a loose braid. Too soon. He snuffed out the candle and opened the door to check the corridor before guiding her out. They just missed being found by one guard on the main floor; only his quick action of pulling her behind him into the shadows in the corner and shielding her with his body saved them.
Brienne stopped him before he could follow her out of the keep.
“I will go the rest of the way alone, William. I will not be seen.”
“If you are certain?”
“Aye.” She took the first step away and then turned back to him. “It was more than I imagined it could be.”
“You are such an innocent,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “Have a care as you go, Brienne.”
She ran down the steps and across the yard, pausing as a guard crossed several paces in front of her. Then she opened the door slowly and slipped inside.
Brienne almost floated to her chambers, ducking and hiding a few times when a servant passed, but she arrived in her room unseen. Once she caused the torch high up on the wall to flare brightly, drawing one servant’s attention so that she could sneak past him.
Minutes later, she lay in her bed, thinking on all that had happened between her and William this night. As she drifted to sleep, she realized the failure in her plan.
She’d gone to him simply to seek pleasure and some memories she could hold on to in the coming days. She’d come back in love with the man who honored her even when she did not.
* * *
“She is back, my lord.”
The servant’s whisper at his door was the word he waited on. He opened the door and dismissed him with a wordless wave of his hand.
Brienne and the warblood. Neither one could see what was plain to him—they had fallen in love right before his eyes. That mattered not. Though her virginity would have been an added gift to the goddess, using it to gain the warrior’s cooperation was worth it. Once he’d taken the maidenhead of an innocent, his own honor would demand he protect her.
So that when Hugh took her north, the warrior would follow and do anything to save her. Even forfeit his claim to lands and his duty to the king. Then he and his powers would be Hugh’s to command.
The girl was easy enough to manage—a few soft words and the name of her mother and she’d fallen into his hands to be molded and moved as he needed. Tonight had been the result. He knew she thought it her idea to pursue the knight, but a few subtle pushes and suggestions and she’d gone after him like a bitch in heat. Seeing the warrior’s desire for her in his gaze, Hugh knew that he would not reject her when she followed him.
Hugh held the image of the torch outside her chambers in his thoughts and became that fire, re-forming there in the corridor. Opening her door, he walked in and stood over the bed where she slept. As he watched her sleeping, she murmured words in a whisper. He leaned in and tried to discern what she said, but they were slurred. Her body moved then, sliding on the sheets and arching. She was dreaming of sex. When she uttered the warrior’s name, he nearly laughed aloud.
He left her chambers, using the candles in his chambers to draw him. Then he released his mirth and satisfaction. She had done her part and given herself to the warrior. On the morrow, he would invite William to join them—for a willing warblood would be easier to handle.
But, willing or not, virgin or not, William de Brus would be in Hugh’s control and Brienne would be sacrificed once the gateway was open. Nothing else would matter after that.
* * *
William watched her leave, waiting until he saw her enter the family’s residence before retracing his steps back to his chamber. Once in his chambers, he closed his eyes and remembered the expression on her lovely face when she’d seen him standing naked before her.
Most young women would be shocked or embarrassed, but not Brienne. He smiled then, thinking on the way she just studied him as though trying to commit his form and appearance to memory. Then she’d touched him and he was lost.
’Twas a miracle he had enough control to no
t ravish her. The way that her lithe, young body responded to his mouth and his hands challenged that control, but he won even as he lost. She became an extension of his touch, moving with him, following his caresses, opening to everything he stroked. Then she had been like fire in his hands, exploding in waves of heat and wetness as he brought her to completion.
Never in his life had he wanted to be inside a woman more than he had wanted with her. He’d wanted to fill her as she screamed out her pleasure. He’d nearly spilled his seed against her body, so close was he as she shuddered and rocked on his hand.
Even now, his cock reminded him of his failure.
But his heart knew the truth.
He could not take her virtue until she gave it to him. And she would not be ready to give it to him until her soul was her own and her heart was his. As he saw to his own needs in the silent dark of the night, he also knew the worst of it.
His heart belonged to her already.
But whether or not they would survive long enough for him to tell her was another matter.
Chapter 20
“Marcus?” She called out his name as she left her tent.
Marcus has not seen Aislinn since dawn, and he suspected she now had more to tell him. Her dreams came fast and strong now, tearing her from her sleep as the danger came closer with each day. From the terrible expression in her eyes as he walked to her, he knew it would arrive sooner than any of them had realized.
“You have been to the warrior’s camp?” she asked as he reached her.
“They had to be warned.” Marcus looked at her then, understanding that she knew. “What did you see?”
“It begins now. The firebloods rise. The evil one wakes. Many will die.”
“William?” he asked, walking at her side as she glanced around their camp.
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