Michael reached out and grabbed her wrists. “Do you realize what you ask? How do I make love to you and then watch you surrender to a madman?”
“We cannot think of that now. Nothing else exists except you and me.”
She didn’t plead or beg him, she simply stated her desire with a soft and gentle urging that Michael found weaved its way inside him to stir his senses. He felt more alive than he had in a very long time, and it was a passion born of love.
He had thought love lost to him and here Mary was offering it to him freely, willingly, and unselfishly. He had denied himself much these many years, but how could he deny her?
She slipped her hands beneath the dark shroud to press her palms to his cheeks.
“You will not be able to look upon me; you must promise me that.”
She smiled. “But I will be able to touch you.” She stroked his face, a fine bristle of whispers tickling her fingers.
“All you want.”
He pulled her hands from beneath his mask and lifted her up into his arms. He carried her to the keep, stepping over the crumbled stone wall, and walked straight to the bed they had shared since their arrival.
He laid her down, stretching out beside her. He skimmed her lips with his leather-clad finger. “I cannot take the chance of you looking upon me. I wish it could be different, but . . .”
“Cover my eyes, I trust you.”
“You do not know me,” he said sadly.
“Just because I have not laid eyes upon you, does not mean I do not know you.” She placed her hand to his chest. “I know you well enough and I know that you would never hurt me.”
“How I wish this could be different.”
“But it is not, and I want this time with you.”
She reached for an old strip of silk cloth she had found and had torn to make ribbons for her hair. She handed it to him.
“When our time together is done, I will know you well, for I will have touched all of you and no longer will you be a mere shadow to me.”
He took the cloth and leaned down close to her face. His voice was a coarse whisper. “Someday I will love you in the light.”
Her heart fluttered with joy. Someday, somehow he would once again rescue her, and knowing that gave her hope and lifted her spirits.
“I look forward to it.”
He placed the blue silk over her eyes, tying it in a knot behind her head.
“I can see nothing,” she said and a chill rushed through her at the sudden thought of being in complete darkness, like the prison cell that had once held her captive.
“That was the question I was about to ask you, you read my mind,” he said and brushed his bare cheek next to hers when he felt her slight tremble. “Know that I intend to love you with all my heart”—he kissed along her cheek to her lips and nibbled lightly—“and soul.”
She shivered away her misgivings, replacing them with delicious anticipation. “You will not keep me waiting?”
He nibbled at her lips again. “I am in no hurry.”
She smiled. “We do have the whole day.”
“I may need to rest from time to time.”
“We can nap.”
“Then wake and love again?”
“Aye,” she said and jumped when his hand gently squeezed her breast.
“I have longed to know the feel of you.”
“I feel the same of you.”
“Then I will not deprive us both any longer.”
Mary was glad he divested himself of his shroud before undressing her. He left himself vulnerable to her first, and she enjoyed the thought, and she did not wait to reach out and touch him.
His arm was thick, hard, and warm and she squeezed at his flesh. It felt so wonderful to finally touch him. She never wanted to stop.
He took her arm and placed it round his neck. “Hold on while I remove your blouse.”
She held onto him as he raised her up to slip her blouse off. The cool air brushed her naked skin, but she was so intent on acquainting herself with the feel of him that she did not realize she lay completely naked until his hand began to wander over her breast, his lips following. He nibbled, sucked, and teased her nipples into submission.
“Oh my, that does feel so good.”
“That is only the beginning,” he whispered and nibbled his way up to her neck, sending gooseflesh racing over her.
While he tempted her with kisses, she became familiar with his body running her hands up and down his arms, over his broad shoulders, down his chest, and up his back in long, broad strokes. Her touch helped produce images of him in her mind, and the sensation of his warm, hard flesh against her fingers inflamed her passion.
They soon became lost in touching and tasting each other. Mary nipped at his lips and tasted his neck, salty and warm and oh, so satisfying.
Michael eased himself away from her lips, to Mary’s chagrin.
His fingertips went to work on her naked flesh, touching her ever so lightly and heightening her desire to raging proportions.
“You are so very beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. “Every inch of you.”
His fingers stroked the inside of her legs, spreading them apart, and ever so gently he touched her with the faintest intimate touch causing her to lose all rationality, to moan with desire.
She almost sprang off the bed when Michael began to kiss the inside of her legs and moved upward.
“What are you doing?”
“Loving you,” he said and kissed her in the most intimate of places she never imagined his lips would touch, but was so very glad he did.
She moaned.
There was not a part of her body he did not touch, kiss, or nibble. He brought her to a fever pitch and watched as she arched her back and cried out with the pleasure of her first orgasm.
When she regained her breath, she reached out to touch him. He let her have her way, understanding she needed to know him as well.
His chest was firm, his belly flat, and his manhood hard, solid, and a size that startled her. “You are so very large.”
His hand covered hers. “There is nothing to fear from me.”
She stroked him and his hand drifted off her. She smiled when she heard him groan. “I like the feel of you.”
“Touch all you wish.”
She did, enjoying the intimacy until he said, “No more or I will be spent before we finish.”
“I do not want that,” Mary said. “I want you inside me.”
He moved over her, kissing Mary like a starving man, and she returned his kisses like a woman eager to feed him. Her arms wrapped around him and he held her as he settled slowly into her inch by inch, her moans growing as he entered her more deeply.
“Shhh,” he warned, “Or the whole forest will hear you.”
“I cannot help it, you feel so very good and I love you so very much.”
He tickled her ear with his tongue. “And I love you. Now hold on to me tight for this moment we share is precious, and I will forever hold it in my heart.”
He claimed her mouth, so that her moans of pleasure emptied into him as he entered her completely and demanded a rhythm of her that she matched with equal enthusiasm.
Mary lost all sense of time and place; her only thought was that of the wickedly delicious sensation she felt with him buried deep inside her. His precise strokes tingled, excited, and drove her near mad as they built in her a crescendo of passion that consumed her. She held onto him, knowing he rode her toward a crest that once reached would devour them both.
They soared and spun and crested until a shocking explosion racked their bodies, and together they grasped and moaned their release, sighed with pleasure, and slowly returned to reality.
Her body tingled and when he rolled off her, she turned and rested against him, his arm wrapping around her.
“I never imagined it to be so beautiful,” she said when her breathing calmed.
“Love makes it beautiful.”
“Then I am gl
ad that I could know this moment with you.”
Michael held her tightly and she clung to him as though she feared to let go.
“I will keep you safe,” he said, knowing he reminded her much too often, but needing more so to remind himself, to believe and keep that belief firm in his heart.
“I know.” She fought not to shed the tears that threatened. It was hard holding them back when she hurt so badly. And she should not hurt now, not while she continued to bask in the pleasure of their lovemaking. But she could not help but wonder how she would share such intimacy with a man she hated. Could there be a worse torture?
“Are you all right?” he asked, having felt her tremble.
She would not let him know her thoughts for it would make their time together more difficult for them both.
“I am more than all right; I am wonderfully happy and deliciously content.”
He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “The feeling is mutual.”
“Good, then we shall rest so that we can feel this way again and again and again.”
“I could love you forever, Mary, and never tire of it.”
She sighed. “You say the most beautiful things to me.”
“When love fills one’s heart there can be only words of beauty.”
“Where did you learn of love?” she asked as she felt him drape his shroud over them and she snuggled more comfortably into his embrace.
He hesitated a moment. “My mother was a remarkable woman. She taught me much about the beauty and unselfishness of love.”
“My mother did the same,” she said. “How lucky we are to have had such loving mothers. And have you loved any women before me?”
“Nay,” he answered quickly. “And I shall love no other but you.”
She touched his cheek. “And I shall love you and you alone.”
“Mary—”
She pressed a finger to his lips sensing he would say something that would rob them of this special moment. “Please say nothing more. Let us have this time.”
He remained silent and Mary closed her eyes to dream, falling quickly asleep while clinging tightly to him.
Late afternoon found them sitting by the stream eating blackberries. Michael wore his black robe and she her blouse and skirt, her feet were bare.
They had avoided speaking of tomorrow, clinging tenaciously to today and the little time afforded them.
A thought had been stirring in Mary since he had planted the idea in her mind that perhaps one day he would be able to free her of Decimus. Until then he would be freeing others and she could help him.
“I have an idea,” she said.
“Will this idea find favor with me?”
“I think it is a good idea.”
“That does not answer my question, which is,” he said, “a sure indication the idea is not acceptable. Do you know that your voice sounds like a melody carried on a gentle breeze? It is very soothing to listen to.”
“You attempt to avoid my idea, though I do appreciate the compliment.”
He was firm in his protest. “I do not wish to argue, and your idea will cause an argument.”
She hurriedly told him what she thought before he could stop her. “I will help you in your quest to free those imprisoned by Decimus.”
“You will not.” He sounded as if he held his temper.
She looked at him, his dark mask in place but no longer hiding him from her, not since her freshly acquired memories reminded her of the flesh and blood man that lay beneath.
“Just think of the important information I could supply you with, making it less difficult for you and the prisoners.”
“And how long do you think it would be before Decimus caught you?”
“If I played the dutiful wife he would never suspect me,” she said with excitement. “This could work well for us both.”
“It would not,” he insisted. “It would place you in harm’s way and I will not see that happen.”
“I am intelligent and could well handle the masquerade. Decimus would suspect nothing. He would be too pleased with gaining me as his wife and will pay me no heed.”
“He is not an ignorant man.”
“He most certainly is,” she said. “Any man who treats the lives of others so carelessly is an idiot.”
“Do not make the mistake of misjudging his worth. He is sharp of eye and keen of hearing and there is little he does not know.”
She tapped her chin with her finger, wrinkled her brow, and looked to the sky.
“No more ideas, Mary,” he warned.
“It is not an idea I contemplate. If you tell me that Decimus sees, hears, and knows all, why was he unable to find me these many years?”
“Magnus did a splendid job of hiding you.”
“Then suddenly he discovered my whereabouts after eleven long years?” She shook her head. “It does not make sense.”
“He has men who he sends out in search of people.”
“No one knew of my real identity except Magnus. The man and woman he left me with were told that I was orphaned and needed a home. Magnus offered them money to take me in and they gladly did. My presence made their life easier. Coins would cease if I was gone.”
“Or perhaps they were more richly compensated for providing Decimus with information.”
Mary shook her head again. “They grew to care for me. They would never want to see me harmed.”
“Coins can loosen the tongue.”
“I do not think that Decimus would pay for information. Torture is more his way, gaining him whatever information he seeks. His discovery of me does not make sense.”
Michael reached out to lay his glove-covered hand on her arm. “Do not hunt for things that could be harmful to you.”
“Do you actually expect me to wed him and do nothing but submit?”
“For your safety? Aye, I do.”
“My fate is sealed once I exchange vows with him. I will not spend my life in fear, nor be imprisoned by his ignorance. I will do what I must to survive and to find a way to make my time with him productive.”
“Productive?”
“I wish to help you—”
He attempted to protest but she silenced him with a quick raising of her hand.
“Do not waste your breath on me. I will do what I can to help those I can.”
“And find yourself suffering,” he said exasperated.
“I cannot completely surrender my will. I would rather die.”
“You would place yourself in danger helping the innocent?”
“I am in danger now.”
“Free yourself of that danger,” he said. “When you wed Decimus obey him until another way can be found to free you.”
She shook her head adamantly. “And how long do I obey? Weeks? Months? Years? Until I lose myself completely to him? I cannot.”
“You are stubborn.”
“A trait we share.” She laughed.
He grabbed her chin. “How can you find humor in all this?”
“That is easy,” she said softly. “I find humor in it all because you loved me. I shared true love with you and because of you I know its joys and pleasures, and no one, not even Decimus with all his power, can take that from me.”
Michael knew not how to respond.
She reached beneath his mask to touch his face. “Do you know when I touch you that I ache for us to make love?”
“Mary, listen to me—”
“Only if you tell me you will make love to me.”
“You are willful—”
“Aye, which does not make me a docile wife, though I can convince Decimus otherwise.”
He released her chin and pointed a finger at her. “You will—”
Love me,” she said and nipped at his finger.
“Mary it is important that we—”
“Make love,” she finished, and laughing, jumped at him toppling him to the ground.
He grabbed hold of her. “We will talk.”
/> “Later,” she said and wiggled her body against his.
“You are—”
“Hungry for your kisses.”
Before Mary knew what happened he had her off the ground, in his arms, and was walking to the willow tree. He spread the thick weeping branches with his shoulder, and without removing one stitch of clothing, he made love to her beneath the willow tree.
Chapter 19
It seemed as if the heavens obliged them that night. A cloud drifted over the half moon, blocking out what light there was and leaving their sleeping nook in total darkness. They were like shadows in the night, barely visible to the eye.
Time was closing in on them, the hours slipping by until it would be morning and their time together done. They had made love often and Mary burned every second of it into memory.
Now snuggled in his arms, her leg over his, her hand on his chest, she felt content. In a few short hours that would change, and how she would say goodbye to him she did not know. She did not want to think about it, for it caused her heart to ache and her stomach to churn.
“I love you more than I ever thought possible, Mary.”
His soft declaration brought a tear to her eye. “Something we have in common, for I never thought I would love someone as strongly as I love you, Michael.”
“How do I let you go?”
“I thought the same of you, but we have no choice.” Her tear dropped on his chest.
“Damn,” he whispered, then eased her off him, leaned over and kissed her tears away. “I will find a way for us, Mary, I promise.” He kissed another falling tear.
“I know, Michael, I know, but for now just love me.”
They loved slowly and gently, savoring every touch and kiss, lingering as if they wished the moment would last forever. When it was done, their bodies misted with their lovemaking, they wrapped around each other tightly and slept.
A rumble of thunder woke Mary in the morning, and she was not surprised to see that Michael was not there.
She had expected his absence in the morning, his last words to her indicating his early departure.
“I will always be near.”
Mary fought back tears as she dressed and gathered her belongings. She had to remain strong. She would face much adversity in the days ahead and she could not resort to tears whenever she was upset. But the persistent tears threatened again when she saw that he had left her berries and roots for breakfast. She could not, however, hold her tears in any longer when she went to the stream. There near the water’s edge, written deeply in the dirt was I love you.
Dark Warrior Page 13
