"In a moment," Elyssa said with a sigh. Every inch of her was alive with him. She felt his heart beating against hers and her breasts flattened so nicely against his chest. And, Mary save her, his shaft was hot against her belly.
That was not where she wanted it. Elyssa stretched, rising to her tallest. Her whole body shuddered as the head of his shaft slid between her thighs to tease her woman's flesh.
To feel what she desired so near to where she needed it sent waves of wanting through her. Desperate to hold him within her, Elyssa struggled to make herself just a little taller. Geoffrey drew a shaking breath, understanding what she wanted. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her buttocks, lifting her higher still. The tip of his shaft found the entrance to her womb.
Elyssa caught his mouth with hers and ever so slowly eased herself down upon him. Her legs came to rest around his hips as he held her aloft. When he filled her, she gasped in surprise at the power of the pleasure washing over her. She let her love for him feed her enjoyment, making the sensation sweet and wicked at the same time. The next wave came, making her shudder. Oh, already this was better than anything she'd ever known. The thought of how wondrous the coming hours, months, years would be brought yet another wave.
As she moved against him, his heat grew to sear her. Then, he was gasping against her mouth. "Lyssa," he groaned softly, "Cease, else I will disappoint you."
She leaned back in his embrace. His gaze was soft with desire, his face ruddy with need. "That is not possible," she whispered, teasing him as she moved in tiny, subtle motions.
His eyes widened and he forced her down upon him. "My God," he said, his voice ragged. "Stop, or I will spill my seed this moment."
"I cannot wait," Elyssa pleaded, kissing his jaw. "Lay me down, Geoffrey. I would have you atop me." She caught his mouth with hers, sucking and nibbling at his lips.
There were no less than two steps to the bed, but Elyssa did not feel him move. She gasped as they dropped, still connected, onto the mattress. He held himself above her for a moment then tried to ease from her.
Arching beneath him, Elyssa gripped him tightly with her legs, her arms coming around him to clasp him to her. "Do not leave me," she murmured.
Geoffrey's face was taut as he fought to control what raged in him. After a long, tense moment, he sighed then settled atop her. Bracing himself on an elbow, he combed his fingers through her hair. When he touched his mouth to hers, his kiss was gentle. "Lyssa, I'll not use you to pleasure only myself. I would take time to make you feel the passion you raise in me."
His words shattered her, setting a wave of joy just outside her reach. "My God, Geoffrey, you have," she panted. "Can you not feel I am on fire for you? Love me, Geoff," she pleaded. "Let me love you, making all of you mine own."
Her words destroyed his hard-won control and he thrust into her. "Oh my God," he whispered as he moved.
Elyssa lifted her hips to meet him with her own desire. When he thrust again, she cried out as mere joy exploded into something even better. Her fingers dug into his back and she arched, goading him on in his efforts. Heat devoured her, her heart sang. She cried out as his need for her pushed her into a sensation so deep she thought it would devour her. When he filled her with his passion, what grew in her burst, flooding them both with her joy.
Panting, he caught her in his arms and rolled to the side, his mouth claiming hers. His kiss was but a reflection of his physical love for her. When she pulled away from him, she was still gasping at the power of his caring.
The candles' light spilled into the bed's enclosure to lay gentle shadows on Geoffrey's face. Lost in a tangle of passion and love, Elyssa used a finger to trace the fine line of her husband's brow and nose, the lift of his cheek, then the outline of his lips. To own such a man was beyond belief.
He smiled against her touch, his eye color impossibly blue. "You are beyond marvelous," he whispered, then kissed her fingertip.
"Nay, 'tis you who is marvelous," she replied in a soft breath, yet stunned by their loving. "Never have I felt so. It’s all you, Geoffrey."
She let her finger follow the scar at his mouth's corner upward to where it disappeared beneath his damaged eye's shield. The patch was damp with his exertion. She caught her finger in its thong, meaning to remove it.
Geoffrey stiffened and caught her hand. "Nay."
"Why not?" she asked, startled by his reaction until she realized he feared her reaction to his disfigurement. "You are my husband, the man I love. Nothing can change that."
"I would not," his words died into a sigh, then his hand dropped from her wrist.
Elyssa removed his patch, tossing it aside, then touched her lips to the lid of his damaged eye. "It’s all of you I love, Geoffrey, not just the beautiful parts."
He made the smallest of sounds then caught her close. When his mouth took hers it was with such love that her heart broke and was healed all in the same instant. Then, he drew away.
"You own me, Lyssa, body and soul," he murmured.
"For all time?" she begged.
"Aye," he breathed, "and after that as well."
She smiled, then eased down to put her mouth against his chest and kissed a line to his nipple. He moaned when her tongue teased that sensitive spot. The sound sent new and stronger need careening through Elyssa.
"Geoffrey," she breathed against his skin, "I think we have made a good start in consummating our marriage, but there is so much left to do."
He shuddered. Against her thigh, she felt his shaft stir. "I can only hope I do not disappoint. I have been celibate for far too long."
Elyssa gazed up at him, her mouth yet exploring his chest. "You'll have no trouble once I've finished with you,” she offered in sultry promise. "I've a mind to sit astride this time."
"Oh my God," he whispered.
Coudray's keep tower guarded the king's highway where it traversed a long, fertile valley. The bottomland was threaded by streams, its expanse given over to fields and orchards while the rolling hills made perfect grazing for the estate's ever-growing flocks. Their forest cover had been cleared long ago to meet the needs of hearth and homes. What remained of that thick expanse was a bluish line in the distance, a contrast to the soft white blanket left by last night's snowfall.
Winter was far colder here in England's inland north and the snows had begun after December's ides. This day's gentle gray sky suggested more of the same awaited them in the coming days. Despite the chill air Elyssa stood in her solar window, her mantle clutched tight, watching the quiet world spread out beyond Coudray's walls.
Smoke drifted lazily above the many houses and cottages making up the large village. Nay, the settlement was not so small as that. It was almost a town that found its home here. Folk hied themselves to and fro along the narrow lanes as they worked on this Christmas Eve day to prepare for the morrow's celebration. Their garments, all in shades of red, blues, and greens were bright spots against the prevailing tones of white and brown.
A goodly sized group of children skated on the millpond just outside the town's walls. While the lads shoved and pushed, their laughter boisterous, the lasses caught hands to form a long string of flying skirts. Then someone threw a snowball from the bank and war was engaged, and the sexes joined ranks to do battle against their attackers.
The bedchamber door behind her opened and closed. Elyssa's mouth lifted as she listened to Geoffrey cross the solar toward her. Even before he'd put his arms around her, she'd leaned back against his chest, tilting her head to the side to look up at him.
His hair was newly washed and shone like bright gold, his jaw freshly shaved. As always, his fine features made her pulse leap to a new beat. She studied him, yet awestruck at the happiness and love she'd discovered with him. A year ago, had anyone suggested that such a thing was possible within a marriage, she would have called them a liar.
"Watching won't make their arrival happen any sooner," he murmured, rubbing his smooth jaw against her cheek. His brothers,
their wives and families were expected to arrive this day. Geoffrey's relatives came as one, choosing to travel the distance as a group.
"I've nothing left to do in preparation save watch," she replied. "Besides it’s beautiful this day."
They made quite a pair, once more dressed in their wedding finery. Geoffrey's yellow gown gleamed in the solar's dim light, the same golden color as the massive gold chain that lay atop his mink-lined mantle.
She smoothed her tawny embroidered gown over her torso in nervous anticipation then straightened her wisp of a wimple. Her fingers rested briefly on the necklet Geoff had given her. The smooth pearls and amber beads reminded her of how dearly he held her.
As if he knew her thoughts, Geoff turned her in his arms then touched his mouth to hers. It never mattered how well he sated her, his simplest touch woke her craving for him anew. Elyssa caught her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with her own.
The door to the women's quarters flew open and struck the wall with a bang. "Lyssa," Cecilia wailed as she flew across the room to bury her face into her stepmother's skirts. Clutching Elyssa's leg, the lass sobbed as if heartbroken.
Geoffrey laughed against his wife's mouth. Elyssa pressed her lips to his scarred cheek then turned to console his daughter. "What plagues you, poppet?"
Cecilia, wearing her green gown with its fox-lined mantle, the hem extended to accommodate a year's growth, looked up, her beautiful face twisted in sorrow. "Johanna says that Jocelyn is to wed Avice and I cannot have him. Make her stop saying that."
"Johanna is right, lass," Geoffrey replied. "You cannot have him."
His daughter stared at him as if shocked at such a refusal. After an instant's stillness, she dropped to the thick mats covering the solar's wooden floor. Her sobs would have been more believable had they been just a little less dramatic.
Elyssa cleared her throat at this performance then looked away, not wishing to encourage its continuation. Her gaze wandered around the chamber. From the moment of her arrival this place had become the heart of her new family. With four true windows—not merely arrow slits—cut from the thickness of the south wall, it was a bright and cheery place. The stone wall had been faced with brick, while the inner, wooden walls had been plastered then painted with a crisscross pattern of yellow atop a background of rich green. Only one embroidered panel hung in the room, this in the place of honor above the hearth. It was Clare's final piece, left uncompleted, just as her life had been.
Elyssa's furniture from Nalder mingled well with what Geoffrey's dam had left behind her. One large high-backed chair, its tall back meant for catching the fire's heat, stood near the hearth for Geoffrey's use. There were two smaller chairs with wider and shorter backs; Elyssa's basket of threads set between them. Cecilia's first attempt at needlework was strewn over the arm of one while Elyssa's own framed work sat before the other. Two small tables stood at the wall, offering a spot to rest lamps or candles and an evening's meal tray.
Yet sprawled on the floor Cecilia peered up at her parents from the concealment of her crossed arms. When she realized they weren't heeding her, she redoubled her efforts. So great was her noise that she didn't notice either Johanna or Simon's arrival in the solar.
Elyssa's son came chugging across the mats on his hands and knees. The skirt of his gown flew, so quickly did he close the distance between himself and Cecilia. Grinning in happiness, he clambered onto his stepsister's back, patting and yelling his approval of her ability to make noise.
"Stop, Simon," Cecilia told him over her shoulder. "I am too sad for you."
Geoffrey leaned down to claim the lad. Simon laughed, displaying a good number of teeth, reaching as always for Geoff's eye shield. When Geoffrey denied him the strap, Simon uttered a string of nonsense sounds to chide him, then claimed the gold chain in its stead.
"He'll make a mess of you," Elyssa warned with a smile.
"Better he does it than me," Geoffrey retorted, tucking the lad into the crook of his arm. "I shall let you be my excuse, eh, my lad?"
Elyssa turned to close the shutter then caught her breath. Along the road, half the distance from the valley's far entrance to the town walls came a grand troop of mounted men, surrounding a traveling cart. Racing ahead of this troop came three steeds, a massive black and two fine brown palfreys. There was no mistaking Geoffrey's youngest brother on that black beast of his. Although dressed only in leather armor, Lord Ashby was a giant. Elyssa's heart leapt. If that was Ashby, then the smaller figure, cloak streaming in the wind, was Jocelyn. The third rider was a woman.
"They come," she cried in excitement. She shut the panel, then caught Geoffrey's arm. “Ashby comes first. Give Simon to Johanna and come greet them with me," she begged. Even after meeting them at her wedding, his brothers and their easy acceptance of her awed her. It remained purely a miracle that his powerful elder brother had made no complaint against her.
"As you will, love," Geoffrey replied, giving the boy to his nurse.
Cecilia's wails stopped abruptly. "I would come, too. Will we have gifts before or after we eat?"
"Neither, as gifts are for the morrow," Elyssa said, then shot her an arch look. "You've mussed the front of your gown and made your mantle askew. Johanna will have to straighten you before you can come down."
"It's Christmas, Lyssa," Geoffrey said, lifting his precious daughter. "Let her come. You can blame me for her mantle," he said. "Besides, if I know my brother, she'll be hanging upside down between her uncle's hands before a few more minutes, her skirts indecently in her face." "Uncle Gilliam is here!" Cecilia cried.
With a shrug Elyssa gave in. "Come, then." She led the way to the stairwell in the room's corner then descended the spiraling stairs as swiftly as she dared. She stepped from the opening at the hall level and started into the big room, once again savoring Coudray's spaciousness. Although this room spanned the entire length and width of the keep's tower, save for the areas at the back set aside for the pantlery and butlery, the atmosphere was miraculously smoke free. This was because their main hearth was set into a niche carved into the thickness of the wall, with an odd channel leading out of the keep. The door needed to be only slightly ajar to draw air through the hall, letting all the smoke flow up that channel and out from the room.
Elyssa gave a final look at the hall and was pleased with what she saw. The tables were ready for their feast, the high table set nearest to the hearth to enjoy the greatest warmth. Their finest cloths lay atop the long planks of wood, their best cups set for their guests' usage. Garlands of fir, yew, and ivy clung to the tables' edges, great clutches of bright holly berries added for color's sake.
In any other hall, the garlands would have hung along the walls, but not here. Here, the walls were covered with the fruit of Geoffrey's dam's needle. The pieces softened the martial purpose of the hall and made this room a place of beauty. Not a single stone showed around them. Disliking the damage torches had already done to these hangings, Elyssa had asked Coudray's smith to create extended scones, setting these essential lighting sources away from the fragile linen.
"It glows in here," Geoffrey said, setting Cecilia down. He took Elyssa's hand as they crossed the hall together. "You've done a fine job preparing, Lyssa."
She shot him a grateful look. He knew how much she wished this event to be perfect. Her fingers laced between his as the dogs preceded them out of the hall, the kennets and greyhounds yipping and baying their way down the inner courtyard floor.
They had only started down the steps when Jocelyn's palfrey careened through Coudray's inner gate. With a cry at his sharp rein the creature lifted itself. Elyssa froze in an instant's terror, then released her fear. Jocelyn held firm in his saddle, his face alive with a broad grin.
"I've won, again," he shouted to the sky then threw himself out of the saddle.
"Jocelyn!" Cecilia screamed in happy greeting, struggling past her father in an attempt to embrace the one she deemed her beloved.
"Nay, you'
ll wait here, while his maman bids him welcome," Geoffrey said, grabbing her by the mantle's collar. He freed Elyssa's hand. "Go," he urged.
Elyssa skipped down the steps as her son came toward her only to catch her breath, stunned all over again by the changes in her boy. The child was almost gone now; in his place stood a young man. Jocelyn was nigh on as tall as she and, dressed in his steel-sewn hauberk, he owned a far greater bulk.
"Maman!" her son called, spreading his arms in invitation.
She accepted. His arms closed around her, his embrace strong. Elyssa let him hold her for a moment then retreated just far enough to lay her palms against his cheeks. His hair had grown back to a more usual length, disguising his scars. The line of his jaw had firmed, while the hair on his face coarsened. Pressing a kiss to his brow, she stepped back. "Who are you? Mary save me, I hardly know you."
The child who yet resided in this new body had the grace to blush at her compliment. "It’s just your Jos, Maman."
Then, Lord Ashby and the woman who rode with him entered the inner yard. "Geoff! Call your bravest grooms to come fetch my pet," Gilliam bellowed to Geoffrey, his deep voice echoing off the stone walls.
Elyssa's son turned, his arms raised in triumph. "I've beaten you again. You'll soon have to honor your vow and sell me your steed's colt, my lord."
As Geoffrey came to stand beside Elyssa, Cecilia eagerly leapt into her stepbrother's arms. "Jocelyn," she said.
Elyssa's eldest son gave a pleased smile and lifted the lass. "Poppet! It's good to see you again."
Cecilia wrapped her arms around his neck. "You must tell them we will wed," she said with a resentful look at her parents. "And I am too old to be your poppet. Take me inside. I am cold," she commanded.
Jocelyn looked over Cecilia's shoulder at his mother and stepfather. "I would hate to be her husband. She's such a demanding little thing. As you will, Celia,” he said to his charge as he started up the steps
. Lady Ashby, or so Elyssa assumed of the female rider, waited to dismount until Lord Ashby's vicious mount was led away. When she finally came to earth Elyssa gawked. This woman was as much a giant as her lord. Lord and Lady Ashby turned as one and started toward their host and hostess.
Autumn's Flame Page 31
