“Medicines?” she said weakly. “Mm, aye.”
He slipped his fingers beneath her neckline and slowly caressed the tender flesh above her bosom, idly asking, “Do you list all of them in your ledger as well?”
“Hm?”
“The medicines. You’re responsible for them?”
“Aye.”
God, she was beautiful, sitting there in the candlelight, her face flushed with desire, her eyes half-lidded, her nostrils quivering. He wanted to swive her. Now.
He clenched his jaw against the urge.
“By the Rood, my lady,” he breathed, “you must have a brilliant mind indeed.” He moved his fingers down, inch by tortuous inch, until they brushed dangerously close to her nipples. “However do you keep the accounts straight? Do you write down the name of everyone who comes for medicines?”
She answered with a throaty sigh that sent a frisson of lust straight into his loins.
He forced his voice to a ragged whisper. “The salves you used on me the other morn, did you record them in the book?”
“Aye.”
“With my name beside?”
“Aye.”
He nodded. That was all he needed to know. With this knowledge, he could sneak into Miriel’s workroom when she was gone and peruse the ledgers, find out which one recorded the castle supplies, discover who had come for medicines in the last few days, and compile a list of suspects.
He had what he required now. At least what his mind required. His loins were another matter.
For the last few days, Rand had suffered, playing the courteous suitor, when what he truly longed to do was ravish Miriel in the nearest dark corner. His mouth hungered for hers. His nostrils flared with her scent. His body ached for the press of her soft breasts.
He’d fought the yearning. The incident in the dovecote had awakened him abruptly to the fact that he had a serious vulnerability where the bewitching lass was concerned. Sung Li was right. When he touched Miriel, more than sparks ignited between them, more than flame.
Even now he felt fire lapping at his veins as Miriel turned her head to gaze at his mouth, her eyes dark with longing.
But he dared not indulge his needs. Not yet. Not when he could be so easily led into carelessness. Despite the aching between his legs, he planned to carry the damsel gallantly upstairs to her chamber door and bid her a chaste good night.
At least, that was his intent when he withdrew his fingers from her bosom. Until the damsel burned into the deepest recesses of his soul with her beckoning eyes, and murmured, “Kiss me.”
He swallowed hard, and his gaze lowered of its own accord to her cherry red lips. Ah, God, they were tempting. Soft and succulent and delicious.
He supposed one kiss wouldn’t hurt. Especially since it was her idea. It was the least he could do, considering how cruelly he’d abused her trust. Besides, he was certain he could control his animal instincts for one kiss.
He was wrong.
Miriel knew she was making a mistake, but that didn’t stop her from making it. The sizzle of her hot blood muted the voice of reason. Her skin felt afire, and she burned for the quenching ambrosia of his kiss.
It would only be one kiss, after all.
The fact that it was near midnight, that they were alone in the privacy of her workroom, that none would come to disturb them, would not affect her judgment. She only wanted to slake her thirst with a sip of his affection.
The first touch of his lips assured her it would be no easy task to cease. Their mouths met with a searing heat that melted them together like ores in a crucible. As their tongues entwined, so did their limbs. Her fists clenched in his tabard while his fingers plunged through her hair. Again and again, she strove forward against his mouth, searching for a greater closeness, a more complete intimacy.
Her heart beat against her ribs like a caged sparrow as he pulled her closer. She leaned forward, slanting her mouth over his, possessively wrapping her arms about his neck, hauling herself into his embrace so ardently that she knocked over her chair and the pile of ledgers.
But none of that mattered. All that mattered was the man into whose soul she was delving.
Suddenly, with shocking familiarity, he reached down to cup her buttocks and hefted her onto his lap. She gasped at the heat of his muscular thighs beneath her, a heat that penetrated the layers of wool and linen between them. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair, angling his head to better access the warm, wet, delicious hollows of his mouth.
But as her blood began to simmer with desire, as her fingers began to scrabble desperately for purchase in the roiling sea of lust, she felt him withdraw. It was subtle at first, a slowing of their kisses, a lightening of his embrace. But soon he clasped his hands about her jaw and pulled gently away, panting heavily against her mouth.
“Miriel…my love…we mustn’t…”
Despite the smoldering passion in his eyes, the sincere regret in his breathless words, it was like a sobering slap. She knew he was right. If they didn’t stop now, they would never stop. Their ardor was like a wildfire, blazing uncontrolled across the heath.
Licking her kiss-swollen lips, she closed her eyes, gave him a rueful nod, and withdrew trembling fingers from his hair. He cradled her then, holding her close against his shoulder, while they caught their breath.
When she lifted her desire-weighted eyelids toward the wall, what she saw made her eyes go wide.
Bloody hell! When they’d knocked the stack of ledgers over, the tapestry had been dislodged as well. It now hung askew, and from this angle, it clearly revealed the ragged edge of rock and the darkness beyond that comprised Miriel’s secret passageway.
The breath caught in her throat. Dear God, what could she do? At any moment, he would turn his head and see it. She couldn’t let that happen.
Her brain raced through several possibilities.
She could pretend to be sick. Nay, more tasteful, she could burst into tears. She was good at that. Perhaps in his concern for her, he’d overlook the gaping hole in the side of her office.
Nay, that was too uncertain.
She could topple all the candles, in the hopes of instantly extinguishing the light in the room. But if they didn’t gutter out, they might set something on fire.
She could knock him unconscious. She knew strategic pressure points that would slump him over in an instant, giving her time to straighten the tapestry. But it would be impossible to explain his faint later.
Nay, she had to distract him somehow.
What was the best way to distract a man?
That was easy to answer. Doing it was another matter.
Wincing against the impropriety of such wanton behavior, she brazenly slipped her hand over the bulge between Rand’s legs and gently squeezed.
Chapter 15
“Lass!” Rand said with a gasp, jolting with the shock of her touch. But his shock turned rapidly to lust, and a groan of pleasure was wrung from him as she continued to clasp him with bold possession.
Lord, the wench was wicked. And she didn’t play fair. It was difficult enough to curb his passions without her taunting him thus.
“Aye?” she sighed into his ear.
He shuddered. Her palm was stroking along the length of him now with sensual leisure. The cursed woman knew exactly what she was doing. She had him at her mercy.
But two could play at that game.
He eased one hand up the side of her surcoat and brazenly cupped her breast.
It was her turn to gasp, yet she made no move to halt him. Instead, with startled surprise in her eyes, she leaned forward, trying to deflect him by reengaging him in a kiss.
This time he pulled back, pinning her with a purposely seductive stare while he brushed his thumb over the spot where he knew her nipple to be.
She groaned, and her lids dipped as he felt her nipple awaken to his touch, even beneath her surcoat. Then, as if in reprisal for his aggression, she reached lower to cradle his ballocks.
He’d have to make sure she couldn’t. He dragged his hand to her other breast, plucking at its peak until she bit at her bottom lip in ecstasy.
But he hadn’t won yet. She nuzzled at his neck, working her way up to his ear, then the sly wench slipped the tip of her tongue into the sensitive recesses there, and a wave of overwhelming desire seemed to melt his very bones.
He held nothing back then, plunging his hand between the two of them with pointed precision, pressing at the soft juncture of her thighs where he knew she ached for him.
She drew in a ragged breath, and he chuckled in heady triumph. But when she began to scrabble beneath his tabard at the lacing of his braies, his humor vanished.
Shite, was she going to…
His question was answered an instant later when she loosened the ties and began rooting inside his braies. His mutinous hips angled upward, guiding her hands.
Yet even in the middle of intense pleasure, he managed to launch his own counterattack. He threw back her skirts with lusty vengeance and delved his hand into the soft hair guarding her womanhood.
She cried out in astonishment, and in the next amazing instant, her passion took an almost violent turn. Her free arm snagged him about the neck, and she crushed demanding lips to his. He moaned against her teeth as her hand found the naked flesh of his cock, releasing it from its confines.
Scarcely able to think, he nonetheless managed to slide his fingers farther into her nest of downy curls, parting her nether lips to locate the straining bud between them.
She squeaked, jerking back as if he’d burned her, then quickly recovered, thrusting her hips forward against his palm again as she kissed him even more fervently.
She became an animal, lunging at him, growling and snarling and devouring him with her mouth, while she relentlessly stroked his swollen staff. Ill prepared for such unmitigated aggression, he reared back in surrender beneath her onslaught, enough to make the three-legged stool list dangerously.
It tilted and careened, and just before it tipped over, he tried to cast her away, to save her, but she clung to him with the tenacity of a dog with a bone. As the stool toppled backward, he fell, she followed, and they hit the ground together.
Fortunately, a few sacks of grain absorbed most of the impact, though Rand doubted he’d have felt much pain, not with so much pleasure counteracting it. At least he had the foresight to break from the kiss before they struck, so their teeth remained intact.
He thought the fall would jar Miriel back to her senses and destroy the mood.
He was wrong.
As if she hadn’t just been thrown to the ground, she continued to assail him, raining kisses over his jaw, his neck, his ears, his mouth. She had never let go of his cock, and now she explored his every inch, milking him with shameless daring. Her very boldness drove him to utter abandon.
His hand found its unerring way to that sweet spot between her thighs. She’d grown moist with his fondling, and his fingers slipped easily over the soft folds. She moaned and surged forward, as if she might impale herself upon his hand.
Lord, she wanted more. And he wanted to give it to her.
With a whimper of frustration, she snagged her free fist in the front of his tabard. Then she hauled him with her as she rolled onto her back in the rushes, away from the bags of grain and her desk, leaving him looming over her like a ravishing barbarian.
He felt barbaric. He was wild-eyed and breathless and as rigid as a poleaxe.
But Miriel was no cowering maid. Eagerly accepting the burden of his body atop hers, she wrapped her stockinged legs around his buttocks and writhed in delicious torment beneath him.
Miriel gasped as Rand’s fingers again invaded her most secret place, strumming her like an expert lutist, till her body vibrated with the most amazing music. She’d never felt anything so wonderful, so intoxicating, so…disabling.
Rand’s touch upon her there was more paralyzing than any pressure point. He had her at his mercy now. She was in peril of losing command of the situation. And her wits.
Part of her wanted to break away in panic. The other part wanted to silence the first part and surrender to the exquisite sensations. But she couldn’t, not yet.
She opened her eyes a crack and peered at the back wall. They were almost out of sight of the tunnel now. One more sideways tumble, and his view would be completely obstructed.
She caught her breath as Rand’s cock pulsed again in her hand. It was a miraculous thing, really, warm and smooth and responsive, and the way it nestled in her palm, as if it belonged there, inexplicably excited her. Indeed, the throbbing staff seemed almost as sensitive as her own nether parts. Best of all, it was a point of vulnerability and an effective source of distraction.
If she could only keep herself from being distracted.
With a soft, lusty growl, she released him and wriggled her arms up between them to tug impatiently at the shoulders of his tabard.
He immediately sensed her intent. When he withdrew his hands from her to pull the garment off over his head, she had a small span of time where she could think clearly.
At least, she’d assumed she could think clearly. But once she glimpsed his naked chest, broad and sun-kissed and firmly muscled, her sense of logic fled, and she couldn’t resist reaching out to touch him.
He held himself up on his arms, letting her explore. A fine sheen of sweat dampened his skin, allowing her fingers to slide easily over the supple flesh. His nipples were dark and flat, but when she rubbed a thumb across one of them, it instantly hardened, lending her a curious thrill of power. A jagged diagonal scar crossed his breast, and she traced the puckered mark, then let her fingertip follow the fine line of dark hair that started above his navel and led downward.
The sudden surge of his cock against her belly jarred her from her exploration, reminding her they weren’t yet out of sight of the passageway.
With a husky sigh, she pushed at his chest, urging him sideways. He rolled over willingly, and she wound up astride him, blushing to discover that when their hips aligned, she could feel the swelling of his cock between her legs.
He closed his eyes, grimacing as if she tortured him, and it was a heady feeling, knowing she could control him with the mere shift of her thighs.
But he shifted to press more fully against her, and when his heated flesh contacted hers, it felt like a bolt of hot fire shot through her loins.
She arched back, and his hands captured her breasts, holding her there for a blissful moment before he untied her surcoat and dragged the garment down over her shoulders.
The linen of her underdress rasped across her nipples as he slowly pulled her surcoat down. When her breasts at last sprang free of the garment, she squirmed loose from the sleeves as well, letting the fabric gather about her waist.
His palms slipped up her stomach to cup her bare breasts. She sighed. His knight’s calluses felt foreign and rough and forbidden, yet it was if his hands belonged there, fitting her perfectly.
Suddenly he moved one hand up to catch the back of her neck, pulling her down for a kiss. Nothing could prepare her for the ecstasy of their melded flesh. His chest felt heavenly against her breasts, like the most warming, healing bath.
When their lips made contact, she relaxed against him, sinking into the soothing waters of seduction, reveling in the waves of desire lapping against her skin. Their tongues mated with sensual leisure, a leisure that belied the rapid beating of her heart.
In the end, she didn’t have to nudge him over the last few inches. He took the initiative, cradling her, rolling them over together with practiced grace so that he could take command.
Of course, now she could end the whole pretense. She no longer needed to distract him. The gaping hole was out of sight. She w
as safe.
She’d resume the air of a shy maiden now. She’d blush over her indiscretion and cover her bosom with her arms. Perhaps she’d even squeeze out a few tears.
Right after Rand finished this next kiss.
Or two.
Or five.
Lord, his mouth was irresistible, gentle yet demanding all at once. She wondered wickedly how his lips would feel upon her breast.
As if he divined her mind, he let his mouth slip from hers, kissing her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, descending inexorably toward her straining nipple while she waited in breathless anticipation.
One kiss upon her breast, just to see what it would feel like, then she’d stop him.
When his lips closed around the taut bud, she arched her head back, astonished by the current that streaked through her body, seeming to connect all the most sensitive places. Her mouth dropped open in wonder as he suckled with tender care for a long while, finally finishing with a lazy lap of his tongue.
Of course, she couldn’t let him leave her unbalanced. Biting her lip, and promising herself she’d make him cease in another moment, she offered her other breast.
With a low chuckle, he obliged her, circling the nipple with light, teasing kisses until she forcefully thrust her breast between his lips. This time he drew hard on her nipple, and it felt as if the suction reached all the way to that spot between her legs, for there she began to quiver with need as well.
He finally released her with a soft, wet smack, then blew gently on her nipple, making her gasp with chill.
Now, she thought. Now she’d make him stop.
But in the next moment his fingers began to smooth the curls at the juncture of her thighs, and she instinctively tilted her hips up to increase the pressure of his touch. His hand felt so right upon her, comforting and arousing at the same time.
She was treading on treacherous ground, but she couldn’t seem to step back.
Maids with Blades Page 69
