by Beth Mikell
He shook his head in firm denial. “Though you may not believe me, but what I say is true,” Rowan whispered, leaning forward to brush is lips across hers in the barest hint of a kiss. “I want you.”
She closed her eyes. His sensual onslaught broke through her walls and all the years of loneliness. “You cannot be telling the truth,” she rasped, meeting his gaze. “Only one woman for the rest of your life?”
He stared deep into her eyes, affirming his decision. “If you will have me, kitten.”
She shuddered hard, a quiver so strong it ripped a guttural moan from her throat and her hands pulled him closer, sinking deep in his long hair. Her lips sought his mouth, unleashing every emotion of desire, passion, want, and need trapped within her soul. A feeling so strong, it ensnared her heart. The rain cloud of her despairing life lifted, releasing her sensuality in a storm of uncontrolled flames. He offered everything she wanted and he gave it freely to her. Despite her internal reservations, she wanted what he proposed.
His hands ran up over her shoulders, pulling her closer. The heat of his mouth sank against her thirsty lips, yet she tore her mouth away.
Her dark eyes searched his with anxiety, her breath sawing in and out. “If we do this, I want it all, Rowan. Not once… not twice, but for always. Can you do that? Tell now,” Adara bit out, her emotions careening with excessive overflow. The dam of her heart was near ready to flood with emotions she never thought to share or experience. God, how she trembled.
“Forever, kitten. It is my oath to you.”
She stepped back from him, shaking her head. She wanted everything, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the small herbal cave. She led him toward the bed in the other room. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs. She heard Rowan chuckle and she flashed him an irritated glance, stopping beside the bed.
“All I want is to be free from the past with hope as my promise. God save from me it all, but I am weary. I only know that you make me feel something I have never felt before in my life, and I will be damned if I miss it—just like everything else I have missed within my life,” she said with torn feeling, giving him more revelation from the depth of her trapped heart than she had given to anyone.
He sobered, all amusement gone. “Let me give it to you. Let me be the guardian of yer existence. Let me give you everything—not just now—but for always, lass. Trust me,” he whispered, bringing up her hand, kissing her palm, sealing his oath.
Chapter 11
Rowan’s hands untied the front closure of her black gown. He pushed the material off her shoulders, and it pooled on the floor in a rush of fabric at her feet. His pupils dilated at the sight of her sheer black smock, which left little to his imagination. Every curve was exposed, the symmetry of her body revealed to his roaming eyes as if she were naked without her fabric overlay.
“Oh… God above…” he breathed, his body shuddering hard in response, his shaft pulling tight against his pants. “I have never seen…” he began, only to stop unable to find the words, his breath left on heaven’s wind.
*.*.*.*
“I think I enjoy you speechless.” Adara smiled, reaching to unbuckle his sword belt, tossing it to the side. He shrugged out of his tunic, standing half-naked. His chest ripped hard with sinewy muscles, sprinkled with dark hair, disappearing into his waistband.
Biting her bottom lip, she reached up to run her hands over his chest, feeling his muscles tense under her touch. His body heat sent a shiver down her spine. Her hands paused, and she was embarrassed as though her brazen caress was unwanted. He brought up his hands to hold them against his flesh, smoothing his hands over hers in a satiny stroke.
“No, sweet cat, I need your touch. I need every bit of you—caress me and never stop,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her up against his body.
Rowan’s head bent close, brushing his lips over her mouth.
*.*.*.*
Months of torment unleashed in him. Not only to claim Adara’s sleek body as his own, but a tender realization—he needed her. He needed her in order to be a complete man, inside and out. A violent shudder ripped through him. His tongue snaked out to trace her lips, relishing her taste. A quiver trembled over her skin, as his mouth took her slow and deliberate.
She tasted of the herbs she worked so closely. He savored her, his tongue sliding over hers until he thought he would go insane from the exquisite pleasure.
He pulled back. “I want you, kitten. Now.” He reached for her hand, pulling her over to the bed. He laid her down.
There was no ceremony or words dripping with coercion. All his past games concluded long ago.
He knelt beside her, enclosing one hand over the end of her dark red braid. In one swift motion, he opened her glorious mass of fire, bringing it up to bury his face, inhaling its sweet fragrance. Then he let the silk fall through his fingers around her.
Her eyes were filled with something dark, something heated, and promising. “Do not make me wait,” she said softly. “I am not patient, as you know.”
A slow smile spread over his face. “‘Tis good for you, my lady—I am patient, kitten. I have waited all my life for you,” he said, reaching down to unlace his pants, pushing them down his hips, exposing the proof of his supposed patience in hard readiness.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a fact?” Adara asked impishly, staring at his ready shaft.
He shed his pants, moving to straddle her hips; his knees took all his weight as not to crush her underneath him. His eyes raked over the equally fit perfection of her body, the wisp of sheer black fabric revealing the dark circles of her taunting breasts and nipples. She was flawless. His mouth watered.
“Shall we test my patience, lass?” he rasped.
“Of course,” she said, her hand snaking up to enclose over his smooth, hard length.
He hissed. “Jesu—God, woman,” he ground out, closing his eyes in pleasure, but he made no move to stop her.
Passion charged air.
*.*.*.*
Going on instinct, Adara stroked him. Rowan pulsed. He was smooth and soft, yet firm within her caressing fingers. She pumped her hand up and down from base to tip, milking him with agonizing slowness, enjoying the ripple of emotions run over his face. At the tip, moisture gathered and she ran her fingers over the wetness, intrigued and seduced even more.
He groaned, bringing up his hands to still her touch, as if the pleasure was more than he could tolerate. He brought her hands up his chest, leaning forward to kiss the back of each hand. Then, he moved swiftly, gathering her against his body.
“You would tempt a saint to sin, my sweet cat,” he said, nuzzling her neck with his lips, urging her closer.
She moaned, unable to process any thoughts, her body humming. She threaded her hands through his long dark hair, urging his lips closer to hers. Their tongues met. Eagerly lost. Desperation urged them.
His hands untied her smock, pushing the dainty fabric aside, cupping her breasts. He shaped them, lightly pinching her nipples between his thumbs and fingers.
She flexed against pleasure, nearly purring from the dark sensation licking through her blood.
He trailed his lips down her neck, sliding down to capture a rosy nipple into his mouth. He laved the other with the same attention. A storm fire had taken her senses captive. She tumbled headlong into the sensations, unable to control the little moans skipping out her throat. Her hands sank into his hair, pulling him closer. She arched into his wicked mouth, wanting more, but unsure how to communicate her response. Every stroke, every touch, and every nerve on her body tingled until she thought she might break apart.
His hand traced down the side of her left thigh, caressing her skin until he pushed up the fabric of her sheer smock around her hips.
*.*.*.*
Rowan gazed down, his eyes fastening on the heart of her body. Dark, red curls waited so exquisitely for his attention, beckoning him. He released a hot rush of air he had not realized he had been holding.
Swallowing hard, he cupped her gently and she gasped. “This is the center of you, sweet cat. Will you purr or burn for me?” His finger traced and tested her honeyed depths, his shaft pulsing with unbearable torment.
“Rowan,” she breathed, lifting her hips into his touch, her head shaking side to side.
He shifted his position lower, opening her legs to his penetrating gaze. So perfect. “Let me give you the first taste of heaven, lass.” He kneeled between her legs, and he gazed up her body.
She was magnificent. Never, in all his years, had a woman shook his control or tested his resolve to the point of madness. But Adara deserved pleasure until the sounds ripped from her throat.
“Please Rowan… I… what do I…” she trailed off.
“Easy, lass. I will show you,” he whispered, reaching down to part her flesh. She was pink, aroused, and beautiful.
He lowered his mouth to her, reaching out to hold her hips as she jolted under the caress of his tongue. He pursued her with fast strokes, centering a storm on the sweetest flower ever bestowed. He eyed her withering movements and his shaft jerked with every moan of her throat. Her cries enticed him until he thought he might spill himself just watching her squirm. Her spicy taste unraveled on his tongue, sweet and sensual. Still he continued to stroke her.
*.*.*.*
Adara withered against the barrage of Rowan’s mouth. The flicker of his tongue—shocked as well as delighted—and she arched into him. She reached out unconsciously and sank her hands into his long hair urging him. “Please,” she breathed, the sound nearly strangled in her throat as she hit a wave of fire, her body shaking.
He inserted a finger inside her. He kept pace, inserting another finger, frenzied to light her way. She screamed, her body coming undone.
Sweat beaded his brow, moving over her. “Tell me now. Is this what you want, kitten,” he grated, brushing the tip of his arousal at the entrance of her body.
“I am certain” she whispered, lifting her hips up against him, urging him closer. “Yours… always,” she breathed, gasping has he filled her body in one moment.
Her maidenhead gave way in his powerful surge, making her cry out in unexpected pain and he waited, poised above her gently sliding back up to allow her time to adjust to his wide girth.
“Easy, sweet kitten,” he said softly.
Fire spread through her body, warming to his words and the tender movement of his hips. She spun through a maze of sensation, willing herself to catch her breath. She reached up to caress his shoulders, urging him with a silent plea. Together they moved, winding through a magnetic force, filling the desperation of their soul.
He leaned down to take her lips, not breaking the rhythmic pace he set before them, chasing her breath with his own. Her mouth broke free, gasping for air, as a mindless crest built. She hit a powerful surge, and she cried out her release against the slick dampness of Rowan’s neck.
*.*.*.*
Undone by Adara’s pleasure, Rowan thrust deep inside her, spilling himself. He shuddered from the sweet violence. For long minutes, he hung above her, soaking up the treasure he found so irresistible—almost afraid to move for maybe he imagined her.
He rolled over, pulling her close, her body trembling in his arms. The only sound was their mingled breaths, leveling out. Never in his life had he experienced such a connection. Never had he allowed it—using coupling as an opportunity of ease. But with her, he gave into every longing, every whisper—even his heart.
He cupped her face, tilting her chin, and brushing his lips over hers. “Did I hurt you? God, I was so… primitive, kitten.”
She smiled, pushing her dark red hair out of her face. “No, you did not hurt me. I… enjoyed it,” she said with hesitation, and then she laughed huskily, blushing.
He returned her laugh, enjoying the sweet flush of her cheeks. “Well, I aim to please, my lady.”
She groaned softly. “Complete with sexual insinuations as well,” she said teasingly, caressing a hand through his chest hair.
He hugged her close to his body, relishing the feel of her warmth. “Shall I endeavor to show you more sides to my sexual insinuations, lass?”
The evidence of his desire pushed hard against her thigh. “So soon?”
He growled, pulling her up easily as though she weighed nothing and a screeching giggle ripped from her throat. He maneuvered her to straddle across his body, leaving her highly exposed to his wandering gaze.
She still wore her sheer black smock, yet her breasts spilled out from the front opening while the remainder of the gown was bunched up around her hips. Her fiery hair cascaded all around them, a flaming curtain with her unabashed, her self-confidence brimming.
“Now, let us see how you guide us toward paradise, kitten,” he whispered, his voice dropping by several degrees. He folded his arms up under his head to watch her through his lashes.
Her eyes lit with understanding, and she smiled, moving over him and settling down his hard shaft with a sigh. “Indeed….” she breathed.
Chapter 12
The next few hours were by far the most sensual. Where Rowan needed Adara’s presence to sustain him, she filled him. Where she needed the hope of stability, he met each demand. But as night fell, they knew their sultry interlude had to come to an end. They had to return to the keep.
Before exiting, he pulled her into his arms for one last kiss, needing her lips to revive his spirit. Her warmth seeped through his clothing with each caress against her lips. He was unsettled at the prospect of leaving, having thoroughly enjoyed the confined closeness they had shared together in the cave. The privacy had sealed more than his hopes and dreams, but a promise for the future he never thought to have. He was unprepared for the rush of protective feeling he had for her, or the mighty well of emotion so close to love as he had ever known.
He lifted his head, reaching up to smooth a hand over her radiant face. “Truthfully, this cave will forever remain a favorite of mine, kitten. ‘Tis a pity we must leave,” he whispered against her lips.
“We shall return again, if you like,” Adara said with a tender smile.
He lifted a dark eyebrow at her thought provoking idea. “If I like? But of course, kitten, I want that more than anything. And maybe we will try our insinuations in the hot spring. What do you think?” he asked with a teasing wink, his mind racing over the endless possibilities.
She chuckled. “I am sure that can be arranged.”
Hand in hand, the couple made their way out of the cave into the dark night and proceeded with great caution toward HieLach. He helped her down the mountainside with ease and the league disappeared under their feet.
Nearing the pond, the sound of footsteps alerted Rowan to someone else’s presence. They paused, sinking down behind some bushes.
“What is it?” Adara asked.
“Footsteps, my lady,” he whispered, carefully pulling his sword, his eyes exploring the shadowy terrain, but he saw nothing.
They waited. Footsteps drew closer.
Three armed soldiers appeared from the south, carefully winding their way through the dense forest with their swords drawn. Rowan saw them and recognized one of Darrius’ new knights, Brenson, which he thought was odd. But of course he had not been at Blackstone in nearly three weeks, so the purpose of Brenson’s presence could be merely by chance, or something more. Without knowing all the facts, he refrained from calling out.
“Did you hear something?” asked one knight.
“I know I did, but now… nothing,” the other replied with a shrug.
“Look, maybe we should go back,” Brenson said.
“No, I know I saw something in the woods,” another knight said.
The third knight spoke up, “Ha! Maybe it was our dinner you were supposed to find us!”
“Quiet!”
Hearing their banter, Rowan glanced at Adara. “How far is to the entrance of the bolthole?” he whispered.
“About two minutes—if we ru
n,” she said.
He was thoughtful as he considered the odds. Even if he managed to distract the knights, he knew he would never be able to find the entrance himself—it was too well hidden. Besides, he did not think she could manage a fast run in her gown either.
“I will distract them and you run, kitten,” he said, reaching down to find a large stone, and he lifted it, testing its weight. “Go to the entrance of the exit—hide and wait for me. If I am not there in five minutes, go get Simon and Angus.”
Adara looked uncertain as she eyed the rock. “Why don’t we try to move around them? They have no idea what they are looking for—perhaps we can slip by them.”
He knew how critical it was to keep the bolthole exit a secret, but at the same time, he wanted to keep her safe from harm. “Let’s try your way, kitten,” he whispered, placing the stone back on the ground, reaching for her hand.
They eased to a standing position; the sentries had gone as they glided quietly through the woods before coming face to face with Brenson. His shocked expression matched Rowan’s, and Adara gasped.
Rowan let go of her hand and took a step toward the new Elite knight, not sure what was afoot. “God teeth,” he hissed. “What the devil, Brenson?” He tried to keep his voice low.
Brenson stepped closer, dropping his voice equally low, “I am impersonating a rouge knight, so if you do not mind, move along,” he said, waving them aside, sidestepping the couple. “I will cover for you—now make haste!” he said over his shoulder, hurrying through the woods.
“Brenson? Did you find something?” one knight called out.
“Just your ugly face! There is nothing out here. Now, can we please go back to camp? I do not know about you, but I am starved!” Brenson said, his voice fading off in the distance.
Rowan smiled, sheathing is sword, watching the knight leave with a rueful shake of his head.
Adara raised an eyebrow. “Did I miss something? Did you know him?”
