Templeton, Julia

by The Bargain

  The blood coursed hot through his veins, his body completely aware of the woman kissing him, her fingers tightening in his hair. His cock strained against his braies, hard, throbbing. He brushed against her stomach and she felt it, for she gasped against his lips.

  But she did not pull away.

  In fact, she deepened the kiss, her tongue thrusting against his lips, seeking entry. And when he opened, she moaned low in her throat, her arms tightening about his neck.

  Knowing he could wait no longer, he pulled away from her. "What do you want, Aleysia?"

  "I wish to go to your chamber, but only if the woman is gone."

  He frowned, not sure what she meant by such a remark, then he remembered the servant who had scrubbed his back when he had bathed earlier. The woman, twenty years his senior, was beautiful, yet happily married to the blacksmith, but Aleysia need not know that. Her jealousy rather pleased him. "I assure you, my lady, there is no one there now."

  "Yet what of later? Will she return after I have gone?" she asked mockingly.

  "Gone where, my lady?"

  "To my new quarters. Is it far enough away from you, my lord? If not, mayhap I could find a room in the barn with the horses. Or perhaps in the armory, or even in the hall with your knights. At least that way they could keep an eye on me."

  "Do you wish to return to my chamber, Aleysia?"

  Her gaze searched his, as though she did not trust herself to answer.

  "Do you want me to?"

  "I asked if you wanted to."

  She lifted her chin a fraction. "Aye, I do."

  Everything within him screamed to be wary of this woman, who had tricked him time and again, but his heart won out. Taking her by the hand, they hurried down the steps, passing by Galeran and Elena, who were kissing in a small alcove but jumped apart the moment Renaud and Aleysia were upon them. Elena did not look embarrassed by the indiscretion, but Galeran's cheeks were considerably darker than they'd been moments before. He cleared his throat. "May I be of assistance, my lord?"

  "You are free of your duty this night, Galeran. Enjoy. I shall speak to you on the morrow."

  Impatient to reach his chambers, Renaud lifted Aleysia in his arms. They passed by two servants, who quickly got out of their way. The two women giggled and Aleysia hid her face in the crook of his neck.

  CHAPTER 17

  Renaud opened the chamber door, then set Aleysia on her feet. The fire had died a little, the flames not as fierce, yet the room was warm. Aleysia smoothed her gown, her fingers trembling.

  How nervous she was! Kicking off his boots, Renaud made quick work of his tunic, chausses, and braies. Her gaze fell from his, drawn slowly downward. His body responded, as though she touched him. The fire in her eyes could not hide her desire and he reveled in it, his cock lengthening, thickening with the need to possess her.

  She walked toward him, lifting the gown up and off, tossing it aside. With a growl, he pulled her against him, kissing her, his tongue parrying with hers as his hands slid down the smooth skin of her back, cupping her buttocks, pulling her up against his erection.

  He buried a hand in her hair, holding her by the back of the neck, kissing her harder as his need grew stronger. She sighed as his other hand caressed her breast, his ringers playing with the hardened nipple before moving lower, over the soft swell of her stomach, and finally through the curls of her womanhood.

  Her breath hitched as he parted her, his thumb stroking her clit, his fingers finding her moist, heated center. He inserted one finger, following with another.

  "Renaud," she whispered against his lips.

  "Yes?"

  "I want..."

  He pulled away just enough to look into her eyes. The light green orbs were dark with passion and desire. "What is it you want?"

  She licked her lips, her breathing growing shallow as his fingers and thumb continued to stroke her. "I want to feel you."

  Her hand slid from his ass to his cock, her fingers caressing him in a practiced rhythm.

  Soon he was the one breathing hard, right along with her.

  He brought her down on the rug, pushing open her thighs as he settled between them. She lifted her hips, coaxing him to take her.

  He leaned down, kissed her, his tongue stroking hers, rubbing his cock against her weeping core as she wriggled beneath him.

  He could feel her frustration. Just as she would find him, he would pull away, teasing her, wanting her to ache as he did.

  Bending over her, he took a nipple into his mouth, and her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him tight to her breast, as though she would never let go.

  Aleysia looked down at Renaud, watching as he pleasured her, his lashes thick against his cheekbones, his tongue long and so skillful as he suckled her, using his teeth just enough to have her panting. She arched against him, urging him to take her, to bury his long, thick length within her. She burned for it. And he knew it.

  Her fingernails scraped along his shoulders as she released a loud sigh.

  His cock brushed against her bud, and that slight pressure had her body throbbing, pulsing. A delicious sensation, making her wetter and hotter. She groaned low in her throat.

  "That's it, my love," he said, knowing she was ready to climax, knowing she still ached for him.

  When she had had her release, she coaxed him over onto his back. He frowned a little, but said nothing as she went on her knees between his thighs, lowered her head and took his length into her mouth.

  His satisfied moan filled the chamber, bringing her intense pleasure. He was so large she could only take so much of his impressive length in her mouth. She suckled lightly, taking care, just as he had with her nipples, being sure to not use her teeth or to hurt him in any way. Instead, she licked, stroked, sucked, learning as she went, gauging her progress with each sigh, intake of breath, and satisfied moan. She found she enjoyed being in control.

  He reached out to her, taking her breasts in his hands, but she pulled away, wanting him to receive pleasure for once.

  She spread her fingers on his thighs, her thumbs drawing little circles on the sensitive flesh there. "Ride me, Aleysia," he said, the words torn from him.

  He lifted her, and with knees on either side of his hips, she sat down on his huge cock, taking him within her, inch by delicious inch. He groaned, caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples as she started to rock.

  Making no move to help out, he lay back, watching her through lowered lids. "You're so hot, Aleysia. So wet."

  The words excited her, and the more he played with her nipples, the wetter she became, sliding along his hard rod, her pace increasing with each stroke. "You make me wet, Renaud."

  The sides of his mouth lifted, and he leaned forward, laving her nipple with his silky tongue.

  She rotated her hips, and he bit down the slightest bit, the sensation not at all unpleasant.

  Renaud's blood coursed through his veins, his balls tightening with each down stroke. As he continued to suckle her, her rhythm increased. Her fingers bit into his shoulders, and her sheath contracted hard, pulling him in deeper as her climax rocked her body.

  He held her hips tight as he thrust deeper, filling her with every last drop of his seed.

  Aleysia watched Renaud, who had left the bed moments ago to stoke the fire. She stared, memorizing every detail of his beautiful strong, body. The fire had cast his form in shadow, the planes emphasized, the muscles bunching beneath the golden skin she longed to touch again. She would never tire of looking at him.

  She knew he was to leave for York in the morning, and hated the thought of parting, especially since she felt they had come so far this night. He did not trust her, and with good reason, but she hoped in time that would change.

  Perhaps they could have a future together? She still could not believe he had let Adelstan go—and at what cost? How would William react when Renaud arrived at York without Adelstan?

  From what she had heard of William, and from her experie
nce, she knew he would be disappointed in Renaud. He had been such a loyal vassal.

  As though sensing her perusal, Renaud glanced over at her. He smiled, flashing white teeth, and she could not help but grin. How safe she felt with this man who weeks ago she had not even known existed. How strange fate was.

  He climbed back into bed, and she snuggled against his hard length, her fingers wandering over his chest, a finger sliding over a long scar there.

  She was accustomed to men and their scars, knowing that in a time of war there would be many battle wounds. But now she yearned to know the story behind each of Renaud's scars. "How did you get this?" she asked, before she could stop herself.

  He glanced down at her, and then at the scar. "At the Battle of Hastings. A Saxon about twice my age came at me with a battle axe. I had never seen such a weapon, particularly at such close range."

  She laughed at his expression. "You must have been terrified."

  "Yes, though I struck him before he could do further damage," he said with a cocky grin.

  She looked down along his ribs. "And this one?"

  He seemed amused by her curiosity but humored her. "I was quite young. Still a page, and in my haste to bring my knight his armor, I slipped on horse dung and fell. The shield left a nasty, jagged wound, as you can see."

  Aleysia's heart clenched envisioning a young Renaud so eager to please, much like Galeran still was. "You jest."

  "I never jest," he said, repeating his words of earlier that day. "Though I wish it had never happened, particularly in front of nearly fifty men."

  She laughed softly, and kissed the scar on his chest before pulling the blanket aside to find more battle wounds. Lower, along his belly, next to his navel was a short scar, about an inch in length. "And this one?"

  "I was two and twenty. A battle along my father's lands. The other man suffered far more than I."

  "What did you fight about?"

  "They grazed their cattle on our lands."

  "Such a silly reason to fight."

  "Many battles are fought over things that seem frivolous. But if you allow such acts, then people will push you further. You must stand your ground, always."

  She kissed the mended wound and moved down his thigh, to a long scar. "And this one?"

  "While hunting a boar."

  "I am surprised the boar got you."

  He grinned. "Aye, but I got him back."

  She kissed the scar and moved to his other leg. "And this?"

  "That would be compliments of Galeran."

  "Galeran?" she asked, shocked that his friend had maimed him.

  "Aye, he was practicing bow and arrow, and I apparently had been standing too close to the target."

  "I bet he was horrified."

  Renaud laughed, the sound making her smile. "Aye, he was. He turned as pale as the bed linen. I do not think he will ever forget it, or forgive himself."

  "He is a loyal vassal."

  "Aye, he is."

  "What of your other scars?"

  His brows drew together. "You did not kiss that one."

  She leaned down and kissed it, noticing his cock was no longer flaccid, but had taken interest in this new game. "Roll over, my lord."

  His eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

  "So I may see all your scars."

  "You will not drive a dagger into my back, will you?" Though there was humor in his eyes and in his tone, she realized that he might actually mean it, and again she knew she had a long way to go before she earned his trust again, if ever.

  Hurt, she tried to hide her gaze, but he reached out and lifted her chin. "I know you would not hurt me, Aleysia. Not knowingly."

  She smiled, relieved at his words. "Thank you, Renaud."

  He rolled over then, his arms outstretched to his sides. Desires rippled through her. A tingling between her thighs began, deep in her woman's core. How beautiful he was. His strong back, his narrow hips, the tight globes of his ass, his long, muscular legs. She resisted the urge to lay on him and feel her body stretched across his hard length. Instead, she continued her quest and started at the scar behind his left knee. "This one?"

  "A battle in Normandy."

  She kissed it. "And this?" she asked, running a finger along a horribly long scar across his lower back.

  "Ah, that one nearly killed me. I was but nine and ten. Not much older than you. My first real battle. A very angry Spaniard who wielded a nasty blade. I have never seen a man move so fast in all my days. Like a blurring of the eyes. Fate smiled upon me that day, for I got him with the first strike, but he did not go down without a fight. He fell to his knees and I made the mistake of turning my back. I felt a horrible pain in my back a moment later."

  "It seems all your life you have been at war."

  "Such is the life of a knight."

  No wonder he was such a fierce warrior. He had to be, in order to survive. It was not a life she was used to. In truth, before the coming of King William, aside from the constant threat of Danish invasion, she had known little of war. It seemed that Renaud had known nothing but war. "How old were you when you left your home to become a knight?"

  "I became a page at the age of six."

  She gasped, horrified that a child would be sent from his family at such a young age.

  "Some boys are sent even earlier."

  "I cannot imagine sending my son away."

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, his gray eyes intent. "A boy needs to find his own way. He cannot depend upon his mother his whole life. It will only weaken him."

  "Weaken him? Nay, a son can learn much from his mother."

  "Such as?"

  "Loving, caring. Life is not all about war and defending one's things, my lord."

  "Is it not?"

  "Aye, I will never send my son away at such a young age. I could not."

  "That is why you should hope for peace, my lady. Hope for peace so that you can always stay safe, and your children as well."

  Not liking the talk of war, for it reminded her of their differences, she kissed the long scar, then moved to the one at his shoulder, which was still pink and puckered. The scar she had caused.

  "That one came by way of a witch," he offered.

  She gasped and slapped his ass.

  His lips curved. "Aye, a witch with beautiful light green eyes, luscious long, blonde hair, and an aim that would make any soldier proud."

  Pleased at the description, she leaned over and kissed the scar.

  "And this one?" she asked, touching the scar on his cheek.

  The playful smile disappeared. "A woman. A true witch."

  "Indeed, and who was this witch?"

  He rolled over, his hands folded behind his head, his cock semihard. "She was my betrothed."

  Her stomach tightened. "And where is she now?"

  "I do not know. Nor do I care."

  "In truth?"

  He nodded. "And what of you, Aleysia? What of your betrothed?"

  "I do not love him, Renaud. You know that."

  "Then why did you send for him?"

  She twisted the ring on her finger guiltily. "I did so to save Adelstan. I had no idea Duncan had not asked for Adelstan when he came to Braemere. I swear on my life, Renaud, I would never have written that note had I known the truth."

  He watched her a long time, searching her face and she held his steady gaze. "I swear on Adelstan's life."

  He pursed his lips. "But you would marry him still?"

  "I do not wish it." She sighed. "Since my parents died, my entire life has been full of uncertainty." Feeling awkward under his keen regard, she asked, "Have you ever loved anyone other than your family?"

  "Nay."

  How relieved she was to hear that single word.

  He watched her for a long moment, and then pulled her into his arms, to where she lay full against him, her head against his chest, his cock firm against her belly. "You will stay with me, Aleysia. Forever."

  He rolled her over, and wen
t up on his elbows, staring down at her. His silver eyes shone brightly as he looked at her.

  She reached up and brushed a strand of dark hair from his face. Turning his head, he shocked her by kissing her palm. "I want to stay with you, too."

  He lifted a brow. "Forever?"

  She nodded. "Yes, forever."

  The sides of his mouth lifted before he kissed her.

  She loved the feel of his body flush against her own. The powerful muscles that played beneath her fingers as she ran her hands down his strong back, and over his high, firm buttocks. Her insides coiled as his rock-hard rod pressed against her.

  Her tongue traced the seam of his lips and he opened, kissing her gently. He slipped inside her and she gasped against his mouth, but did not pull away. Instead she chose to enjoy it, to give herself freely.

  He made love to her so tenderly, so gently, and as he brought her quickly to orgasm, she wondered if the day would ever come that she could walk away from this man. Or God forbid, death take him from her.

  CHAPTER 18

  "My lady, would you care to join me for a game of chess?"

  Aleysia jumped at Galeran's question. She had entered the hall only moments before, her thoughts on Renaud, who had left a few days before. She hated to admit it, but she missed him horribly, and everywhere she went in the castle she was reminded of him.

  She recalled the morning he had left for York. He had been dressing and she had stared unabashedly, wanting to memorize every line, every muscle, of his body. He had looked up to find her staring, and still she remembered the softness in his eyes, in his smile. What a beautiful, desirable man he was. No wonder things had been whispered about him. There probably wasn't a woman alive who did not want him.

  "Aleysia?"

  Pushing away the thought, she replied, "Of course," and followed

  Galeran toward the fire where two chairs and a table sat, a chessboard atop, the figures well worn from years of use. Her father's trusted servant had lovingly carved each piece and presented it to him on his fortieth birthday. It was one of the few items of her parents de Pirou had not destroyed.

  She watched Galeran settle into the chair. The soldier reminded her of Adelstan. Of the same age, and of quick wit, he had proven to be as loyal to his liege as her brother had been to his.