Dark Warrior (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  She did, awkwardly, with his help, until she was seated between his long, hairy legs. With a sigh, she leaned back against the rock wall of his chest.

  His iron-hard cock was a thick ridge between the cheeks of her bottom, rising up against her spine. “Feel what thou dost to me, yndling?” His easy words hid the tremendous effort it was taking him not to snatch her up and impale her on his iron shaft. And fuck her until she begged for mercy.

  Instead, he said, “lean forward. I’ll wash thy back.”

  Re-soaping the cloth, which he had to retrieve from the bottom of the tub, he scrubbed it up and down her back, aching deep in his soul at the thin scars he saw there. When he was finished, he dropped the cloth over the side of the tub, where it fell to the floor with a squish. Reaching around her, he pulled her back against him.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of his arms hard around her beneath her breasts. His long legs, bent at the knees, held her in the protective V of his powerful thighs. They sat there in the cooling water, reluctant to leave, enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies, his hard and powerful, hers soft and yielding.

  At one point William came and had the grooms empty some of the cool water, replacing it with hot. Neither Rolf nor Kathryn moved or opened their eyes.

  After they had left, Rolf loosened his embrace, freeing his hands to caress the creamy satin of her skin up her arms, across her shoulders, down her arms. Back up. Down.

  With an incoherent little murmur, she sighed and snuggled back against him.

  He was so like Nicholas. And yet so different. There was an innate stillness about him that fascinated her. That beckoned to her. That quieted a corner of her soul that even Nicholas, as much as she loved him, had yet to reach. As much as she needed her dark warrior, she also needed this man. She needed not only his body, but also his…serenity. The quiet assurance of his love for her.

  His hands moved from her arms to cup her breasts. She held her breath as he lifted them in his palms, stroking the velvet of her skin. His thumbs began to flick across the hard, achy points of her nipples, making her moan softly. His cock jerked to life along her spine. Taking her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, he rolled them gently back and forth, twisting them, pulling them as they lengthened and hardened even more.

  A sigh shuddered through her as he bent his head forward and began to rain kisses along the slender column of her neck. She shifted her head, angling it to give him better access. He closed his teeth over the tender place where her neck and shoulder joined. Giving her a loving little bite, he then laved it with his tongue.

  “Thou art so soft,” he sighed, lifting his head reluctantly. “So smooth. I’ve never felt aught as soft as thee.”

  “Not even all of your drooling women?” she teased.

  He sighed again. “Kaereste…” he began slowly, softly. “I must explain some things to thee.”

  “Nay, my love.” She shook her head. “You need explain naught. I accept you as you are. I accept everything about you.”

  But he would not be deterred. He pressed the side of his face against her cheek. “After Inge and the baby died, I was in a rage at the unfairness of it. I hated God. I hated everything and everybody in the entire world. I’m afraid I took a lot of that anger and hatred out on women. I hated that they were alive while Inge was dead. They became naught more than holes for me to fuck.”

  She winced at the harshness of his words.

  “And I fucked a lot of them. I took from them. With no thought to their needs or their feelings. With no thought for aught except my own pleasure.” He paused. “Oh, I never forced any of them. I only took what was freely offered. But I had no respect for any of them, either—nor myself, for that matter.

  “Until I met Nick.” He rubbed his cheek lovingly against hers. “He truly enjoyed women. He enjoyed giving them pleasure. The first woman he shared with me was older than us—a widow. Together the two of them cut through all my hatred and anger and taught me that taking the time to give a woman pleasure only added to my own. Thanks to them, I began to see women for the treasures they truly are.

  “But I still didn’t love any of them. Oh, I gave them pleasure, but naught of myself. Because I was frozen inside.” He paused again, his hand absently stroking up and down her forearm. “And then I met thee.” She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and remained silent. “Thou hast melted the ice around my heart. For the first time in seven years I am able to feel something.” He moved his head so that his mouth was just above her ear.

  “And what I feel is love. Not the pallid, immature love that I felt for Inge. I have been over that for many years. Nay, what I feel for thee is the deepest love a man can possibly feel for a woman. A love that springs from the depths of the soul.” He sighed heavily. “But, until last night I despaired of ever having thee. Because Nick got to thee first. I knew I was too late. I knew I could never have thee.”

  A tiny, strangled sound escaped from his throat, and he took a moment to steady his breathing. When he did finally resume speaking, anguish roughened his voice.

  “And then, Nick…my best friend in the entire world…my heart’s brother…gave me the second greatest gift in the world.”

  “What was that?”

  “The opportunity to love thee. Freely. Openly. Without guilt.”

  “And what is the first greatest gift in the world?” she asked curiously.

  “Thee,” he said simply. “Loving me.”

  Heart aching, she slid her shoulders across his chest, twisting at the waist and turning her head, lifting her face for his kiss. And he was kissing her, his lips impossibly soft against hers in a sipping, tasting, savoring kiss, drinking from her lips as if she were the sweetest wine. Tiny little mewling cries escaped from her lips as she arched her back, pushing her breasts more deeply into his clever hands.

  “Open for me,” he whispered against her mouth, and as she did so, his tongue swept in and the kiss became a ravishing exploration, filled with hunger and need so intense, so desperate, it nearly consumed her. Jolts of electricity scorched a crackling, sizzling path through her, until her entire body was naught but a molten sea of flames.

  “Rolf,” she moaned. “Take me. Fuck me.”

  Reluctantly, he released her mouth. “Nay, yndling.” His hands moved back to stroke her arms and she moaned again, a cry of protest at the loss of his touch on her heated skin. He kissed her cheek. “We must stop. If we make love, thou wilt be much too sore to walk tomorrow. ’Twould never do for the bride to miss her own wedding.”

  Grabbing her arms, he pushed her to her feet, then rose to stand behind her, water sluicing off their bodies and sloshing over the sides of the tub. They stepped out onto the scented foot sheet that William had thoughtfully placed there for them.

  Two additional scented sheets were draped over the back of the chair beside the tub. Rolf grabbed one and rubbed Kathryn dry, stopping frequently to kiss and lick and nuzzle certain tantalizing portions of her anatomy—the indentation of her waist, the underside of her breast, her delightful little navel, the inside of her elbow. The dimple at the base of her spine, where the cheeks of her delectable ass began to separate, called for the particular attention of his tongue as he dried her legs. By the time he had finished toweling her off, she was sighing with an arousal so powerful she could barely stand.

  He wrapped the other sheet around himself, grabbed the jar of salve and led her stumbling toward the bed. When she was lying on her back in the middle of the bed, he removed his sheet and climbed onto the mattress.

  “Open your legs, yndling.” She did and he sat cross-legged between them, pushing her thighs apart with his knees. Opening the jar, he scooped up a dollop of thick salve with the first two fingers of his right hand. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed. It was lavender in color and smelled of herbs and flowers.

  Placing the jar next to him on the bed, he lifted his left hand and parted her outer labia. He just sat there for a mom
ent looking at her. Drinking in the sight of her soft pink flesh, swollen and shiny and begging for his touch. “Christ, yndling. I’ve never seen aught more beautiful than thee,” he whispered, lifting his gaze to hers. “Thou takest my breath away.”

  Her own breath shuddered from her lungs as he placed his salve-covered fingers against the hot silken skin of her slit. Her hips jerked as he began to rub the cold ointment across her acutely sensitive skin, gliding his fingers around and into her sore vaginal opening. The more he rubbed the more aroused she became.

  His touch, delicate and gentle as it was, sent flames licking across her skin, heating her to her very core. The thick ointment melted with the heat of her body, releasing its flowery scent, blending with her own juices as her hips began to undulate gently against his hand.

  “Rolf,” she whispered, her eyes closed in ecstasy. “That feels so good. I love how you touch me.”

  He scooped up another dollop and applied it, making her shiver at the sudden coldness. Watching her through slitted eyes, he was more aroused than he’d ever been in his life. More in love than he’d ever been in his life. His erection was as hard as granite, rising straight out from the juncture of his thighs. As his stroking fingers accelerated, so did the oscillating movements of her hips.

  She was breathing in short, shallow gasps as her body writhed with the pleasure it was being given.

  “Rolf!” It was a breathy cry as the pressure began to build, spiraling tighter and tighter deep within her body.

  “Right here, yndling.” She could hear the smile in his voice. He watched the flush mount her cheekbones as her climax approached.

  She gasped. “I’m going to spend!”

  He smiled, a slow, wicked curving of his lips. “Then my efforts here will not have been in vain.” He continued the sensual caress of his fingers, gently rubbing her now-frantic button, slowly pushing two of his fingers into her sheath, feeling her clench around them as he stroked her tender tissues. His touch was fire etched in flames against her closed eyelids.

  “Open your eyes, yndling. I want thee looking at me when I make thee come. I want to watch the pleasure take thee.”

  The moment her eyes met his, she sucked in her breath, her body arching up off the bed, rigid as a board. Her head fell back. Her throat locked around a scream as she exploded and convulsed with the storm of her release, all thunder, lightning, howling wind and lashing rain.

  His fingers stilled inside her sheath, held there by the spasms of the vicious climax shuddering through her. He kept them there, gently manipulating her pearl with his thumb to prolong the ecstasy, until her body finally stopped jerking and her muscles relaxed. Still sobbing, she dropped limply back down onto the bed with an enormous sigh of utter contentment.

  Then his fingers renewed their gentle stroking and she cried out as her body convulsed with a second powerful climax. One that burst through her with the force of a catapult releasing a boulder.

  Again his fingers stilled as her body shuddered and jerked, until the spasms subsided and she was limp with pleasure. She heard a wet, slurping sound as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of her still-rippling sheath. Her body was tingling all over with pure satisfaction. She was still staring at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure.

  “I could watch thee come a hundred times a day,” he said, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through her, making her nerves hum. “Thou hast no idea how beautiful thou art when thy body is exploding with pleasure from my touch.”

  A shivery moan left her throat as she watched him raise his fingers to his lips and lick her sweet juices, mixed with the flowery salve, off of them. He curled his tongue around them, closing his lips over them, sucking and slurping as if he were savoring a particularly tasty treat.

  He grinned. “Thou art the most delicious thing I have ever tasted, kaereste. I could have thee three meals a day for the rest of my life and it wouldn’t be enough. I would always want more.” Reaching down he pulled the fur coverlets up over them.

  He lowered his head and kissed her lips, then stretched out beside her and pulled her against his hard chest, his arms tight around her. His cock was a granite rod against her belly.

  “Rolf?” she asked sleepily, nestling her head against his shoulder. “Don’t you want me to…?”

  “Nay, yndling.” He kissed her temple, pressed his cheek against hers. “The only thing I want is for thee to go to sleep while I’m holding thee. Nick was only partly right when he said we were going to cherish thee tonight. I am going to cherish thee every night for the rest of my life. I love thee, Kathryn. I cannot thank thee enough for being willing to share thyself and thy love with me. Thou hast filled the emptiness in my soul and made me whole again. With thee, I feel like I’ve finally come home.”

  Silent tears slid down her cheeks as he bared his soul to her, his words echoing her own lifelong emptiness, filled now with him and Nicholas. She tightened her arms around him convulsively. “You are home,” she said, through a throat scalded by still-unshed tears. “I am so glad you didn’t leave. I know not what I would have done if you had left.”

  “I could never have left thee,” he reassured her. “I know that now. Now that I’ve had thee, I cannot live without thee. I love thee, min skat.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Keeping his own unshed tears at bay with an effort, he moved one big hand to cradle the back of her head, holding her against the curve of his neck. And that’s the way they were when she finally fell into a deep, boneless sleep.

  Nicholas tiptoed soundlessly up the stairs and into the solar, crossing immediately to the bed. Seeing his beloved Kathryn sound asleep in the shelter of Rolf’s well-muscled arms had him fighting to breathe against the lust spearing through him. He wanted to wake her and make slow, sweet love to her. It was with great effort that he did not.

  His movements may have been soundless, but Rolf had sensed him and was instantly awake and alert. “She’s asleep,” he said unnecessarily, without moving, lest he wake her. “She had her hot bath and Ellen’s salve.” He grinned up at Nicholas, his teeth white in the darkness. “I took it upon myself to administer the salve personally.”

  “Did she come?”

  “Do the angels sing?”

  Nicholas grimaced. “Hell and Damnation! I wanted to be here for that—for the two of us to bring her off. I love watching her come.”

  “You can bring her off in the morning,” Rolf said sleepily. Then he added with a wicked grin. “Think of it as a wedding gift. I’ll watch.”

  Nicholas’s cock jerked just thinking about it.

  “Who was at the gate?” Rolf asked.

  “I sent Malcolm Saxon to watch the comings and goings at Pemberton Castle.” Nicholas removed his belt, placing it on top of the tall Spanish mahogany cupboard just inside the entrance.

  “When didst thou do that?”

  “Four days ago, the minute I knew who we were up against. Walford left this morning with an armed escort of twelve knights, one of whom is actually Fairbourne’s man, Godfrey Palmer. They should be here sometime within the next two days.”

  Having removed his tunic and linen undershirt, Nicholas sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots and chausses. “His army is still gathering at Pemberton Castle.” There were two soft clunks as he dropped each boot to the floor. “Malcolm thinks it will be at least a sennight before they’re ready to march. He’ll bring word the instant they leave.” Standing up, he looked down at Kathryn. She didn’t stir.

  “I would have been here sooner, but I wanted to consult with Eric Fordyce and Matthew Vyne.” He pulled down his braes. “When Walford arrives, they will select one man from his group of outriders to accompany him inside the walls. Naturally, they’ll ‘select’ Palmer. That way, while Walford is busy trying to serve his arrest warrants, Palmer will be able to pass on his battle strategy to Matthew and Eric.”

  Finally naked, Nicholas crawled into bed and scooted carefully up against Kathryn’s back.
Curving his arm around her belly and hooking his left leg over both of hers, he kissed her warm, fragrant neck and let out a weary sigh.

  “Thou seemest fatigued,” Rolf said quietly.

  “I am fatigued. I’ll be so glad when this business is finally over.”

  “What news of the King?”

  “He plans to hole up in that little cottage on the edge of the marsh so he can attach himself to the last party of pilgrims allowed up the road—unless there’s someone among them who might recognize him. In that case, he’ll cut cross-country under cover of night so he can ride in with Lyndsley and Fairbourne’s army.”

  “Riding up to save the day.” Rolf chuckled. “After everyone else has done all the work. That’s Edward, always quick to claim the glory.”

  “I care not,” Nicholas said fervently. “As long as he finally takes the threat Walford poses seriously and puts a permanent end to his ambitions of power. People have been warning him for over a year, but so far he’s turned a deaf ear.”

  “Until now.”

  “Aye, until now. When ’tis almost too late.”

  Rolf hooked his right leg to curve protectively over Kathryn’s. When he encountered Nicholas’s, he stiffened briefly, then relaxed to cover both their legs. “Nick?” It was little more than a whisper.

  “Aye?”

  “Thank thee. For this. For her.”

  “She loves you. I love you. We both love her. ’Tis the only logical solution.” He paused before adding wickedly, “Besides, watching you making love to her makes my cock so bloody hard it’s a wonder I don’t go blind!”

  Rolf sighed. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her,” he confided.

  “Not even Inge?”

  “Not even Inge. I’ve been thinking about her a lot over the past few days.” Rolf said solemnly. “She was considerably older than I, did I ever tell thee that?”

  “Nay, I never knew.”