“I’m going to kiss you, Chloe.” His voice was gentle, but left no room for argument.
She closed her eyes. Then his lips brushed hers so lightly she almost didn’t feel it, except for the jolt that traveled from her sensitive lips to her very core. He pressed in again, this time holding his lips to hers, increasing the pressure. She whimpered against his mouth.
His teeth tugged lightly on her lower lip, encouraging her to open her mouth, and when she did, he slid his tongue in. The flavor of honey and cloves assailed her, and she knew she’d never be able to partake in their essence without thinking of this very moment. She gasped when he brushed his velvety soft tongue against hers.
The world around her spun. Every part of her sang, quivered, and between her thighs she moistened with need. She was consumed by Lord Hardwyck, his mouth, his arms, his body. As if their limbs weren’t already entwined, he seemed to pull her in closer. She could feel his hard length on her belly and could barely reflect on it before being pulled back into the passionate throes of the kiss. She felt hot all over. She didn’t understand this feeling, only she knew she wanted more. There was a hunger within her, an ache that only Lord Hardwyck could soothe.
“Oh, my lord,” she murmured against his lips.
“I would have you call me by my given name,” he whispered back, his tongue sliding along the inside of her upper lip.
“Aye, my lord.”
“Aye, Alexander,” he corrected.
“Kiss me, Alexander.”
Chloe clung to his broad shoulders, letting him take her to bliss. Growing from sweet and sensual to savage, white hot desire, their mouths slanted madly over one another’s again and again.
All the anger, longing and confusion they felt toward each other flared in this one kiss.
Alexander turned her to lean against a tree, his body covering hers as his hand lowered from her waist and gripped her buttocks. He pulled her tighter into him, grinding against her. She moaned into his mouth as he rubbed the length of his erection against the hot center of her. He continued his exploration, reaching up to grasp a breast in his hand, his thumb gently caressing the sensitive tip. She was hot for him, he could tell. He’d never felt such abandon with a woman, such passion. Alexander felt wholly out of control, out of his own body. He’d say he wasn’t even conscious except for the fiery desire coursing through his veins.
What was happening?
Chloe had never experienced such pleasure. It made her head spin. She felt light, faint and excited all at once. She wanted more, much more.
A wave of apprehension swept through her. Chloe’s stomach plummeted, and her throat went dry. What was she doing? She was more afraid of her own reaction to him than the things Alexander was doing. She shouldn’t feel like this. How could he make her feel this way? But, oh it felt too good to stop.
Unable to control herself, she instinctively lifted her leg and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as her mouth begged for more. He answered her supplication fully, ravaging her. Was every kiss as divinely carnal as this one?
He pulled away only for a moment to gaze into her eyes, as if he couldn’t believe it was her. Her cheeks felt rosy and her lips were swollen from his kisses. The intensity grew from the inferno they created as they assessed each other. The very air around her seemed to pulsate with tension, the heat of it pushing them back into their passionate embrace. His mouth came back down to hers, hungry for more.
She had never known that a kiss could bring about so many sensations. Was this usual between a man and a woman or was Alexander just a lecherous scoundrel? Whatever he was, she felt herself getting lost within his embrace. A piece of ice chipped off of her heart. Perhaps not all feelings between a man and a woman were of coldness. Perhaps it was possible to find love and warmth together. Her thoughts were interrupted as he deepened the kiss further, making her tremble with desire.
Warm hands caressed her, tweaking her nipples, shivers ran all along her limbs. He tugged the front of her gown, until her breasts spilled into his palms.
“Oh, Chloe…” he murmured into her mouth as he massaged her sensitive flesh.
She whimpered, then moaned in earnest as his lips left hers and traveled down her neck to her collarbone. Her breaths came quick, her heart beat faster. She was on a course, racing for something, power pulling her from herself. His kisses traveled lower until his hot mouth was on the tip of her breast, sucking her nipple into the velvet cavern.
She gasped, nearly choking on the pleasure. His tongue whipped back and forth, while he nibbled and sucked on first one nipple and then the other. Her head moved back and forth, she tugged on his hair, massaged his shoulders.
“Oh, yes!” she heard herself murmur, but it didn’t sound like her. No, it sounded like a woman enjoying carnal pleasures, a wanton woman in the throes of passion.
His hands ran up and down her sides, grasping and massaging at her hips, her buttocks, her back and then returning to her breasts. Suddenly, she was on the ground, and he was on top of her. Her gown, raised and twisted around her hips, his fingers stroking, burning a line up her thighs.
No! This was too much, he was going too far!
“No…” she croaked, but she could barely hear her own voice.
“Say you want me, Chloe,” he demanded.
She had to answer, had to tell him she couldn’t. But his hot velvet tongue was again lashing at her flesh, and now his fingers had found the pearl of her pleasure, a secret spot only she had before known about. He pressed, and rubbed, and swirled. She gulped, sucked in her breath, moaned on a sigh. Exquisite sensations rippled through her. His long masculine fingers deftly played a magical tune on her body.
“Oh, yes…” she murmured. No! What was she doing?
Sparks sizzled from her center and out and back. Alexander went from laving at her breasts to nuzzling her belly and then his mouth was on her bare thigh, nibbling at her flesh as his fingers delved inside her sheath. She felt herself stretch and squeeze against his long fingers. Oh, dear Lord, what sin was this, that felt so like heaven?
She sat up to protest, this had gone on long enough, then fell back from sheer pleasure as his hot breath blew on her moist nether region.
When his tongue darted out and licked her from the bottom of her slit to the top of her pearl, she shouted out, her hands running through his hair. But she knew how wrong this was. If she had any shred of propriety left, she needed to pull it together. Making love to Alexander on the floor of the forest was the absolute last thing she should be doing—even if every cell in her body screamed for him to continue pleasuring her.
His mouth worked wonders on her, his head moving back and forth, tongue darting here and there, fingers stroking her insides. She burned, yearned, shivered, quaked. She was on the very precipice. Her moans wrenched the air with each plunge of his fingers and each stroke of his tongue.
She didn’t know what to feel. So many emotions battled inside her, all fighting with the wicked, delicious sensations he evoked on her flesh.
Fear overcame her desire and she regained control of her trembling limbs. What was she thinking? This man was her lord, and now she was being more intimate with him than anyone before, the intimacy only a husband and wife shared. Her earlier worries of him making her his mistress returned.
She sat up, shoved his head from her. Pulled his fingers from her center. Pressed her knees together. Her body pulsed with the need for him to come back to her, nuzzle her some more, to finish what they’d started, but she refused to listen.
“Stop,” she managed between ragged breaths.
He sat back on his heels. She pulled her skirts down over her knees, tucking the hem around her ankles, refusing to look at his face.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice heavy, guttural. Was it possible he’d experienced such pleasure from having his way with her?
“I cannot do this.”
“Why? I want you… You want me…” He stood, raking his hand
s through his hair. His rigid length pressed and wrestled with the front of his braies. She licked her lips, wanting to continue, wishing there were no repercussions. She hadn’t even had a chance to feel his heavy length in her hand.
She bit her lip and looked away.
“Ballocks!” he swore under his breath.
His anger only flamed her ire at him having taken advantage of her weakness; at him playing on her desire and confusion.
“Do you think I am some common harlot you can throw over your horse and ravage at your leisure?” she hissed angrily, appalled more at her own behavior than his.
He stared at her for a moment, seeming to mull her words over in his mind. He stepped backward away from her suddenly, his face flashing surprise and anger.
“You are quite right, mademoiselle. I do apologize,” he growled. He yanked her headdress from the ground, thrust it at her, and then picked her up and threw her onto his horse, quickly mounting behind her.
He kicked the horse into a full gallop back toward the town. Chloe could feel his anger whipping against her back as they rode. She dared not turn around for fear of receiving a tongue lashing or angering him further. When they entered the village he rode straight for the keep, just missing several of the villagers as they darted out of his way.
Alexander didn’t even stop his horse, but instead swung her over and dropped her onto the ground in front of the steps. It wasn’t a gentle dropping, and Chloe bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out as her buttocks hit the ground hard, jarring her entire body. She watched in angry amazement as the very man with whom she’d been intimate just moments before took off, riding toward the stables without turning back.
Chloe slowly stood as stoically as she could, wiped the dirt from her gown, and watched the back of Alexander’s horse through the clouds of dust he left in the air. She was suddenly overcome with melancholy.
Harold came flying out of the keep with the commotion, a look of outrage on his face until he saw Chloe’s anguish and her disheveled appearance. His face quickly softened as he grasped her arm and ordered her to her chamber.
Everyone and everything I’ve ever cared for will disappear. She walked stiffly up the steps to the keep.
Alexander was beyond angry at himself for his unchivalrous conduct. He, a man who prided himself on control, values and family responsibility, had let this silly little peasant get a hold on him. She had bewitched him. How could he be so angry at her one moment and then be filled with passion the next, nearly bedding her under the trees?
She had a right to be offended by him. Yet, he felt as if she had consumed him and made him react to her that way. It must be a trick of some sort. He had heard about some women and their lovemaking ways. Pulling a man in, teasing him until he nearly burst with his need to have her. Like dangling a carrot before a rabbit and not letting him have a bite. Well, he’d tasted his little rabbit, and he wanted the whole damn thing.
Dear God in Heaven, what the hell was he doing? Was she a peasant or not?
She certainly fit the picture of his bride to be, a woman of privilege. There was no way that she would have traveled from Scotland and decided to live out her life as a common woman. Perhaps it was a trick to see what type of a man he was before she would take him as her husband. No doubt since she had bewitched him, she would go so low as to play a commoner. He shook his head. After his dealings with her family he couldn’t imagine her doing such a thing. They were much too filled with pride to stoop so low. And besides she wouldn’t dare! No one would. Would they? The nerve of her! Immersing herself in his life the way she had.
At that thought he became all the more enraged. That little harlot! She had come here to seduce him, trick him into something! He pushed back in his mind that it was he who had dragged her into the woods against her will, thrust his hands into her luscious hair, tasted the sweetness of her cunny, delved his fingers into her tight, hot sheath, and nearly plundered her right there. His body still pulsed and raged for release. She had put a spell on him. He could think of no better reason for his behavior.
He shook himself with disgust. He needed air. He needed fresh air, and cool water. He jumped back onto his horse and rode out of the village again, to the river that flanked the west side. He dismounted, disrobed. His cock still rock hard, he gripped the flesh in his hand, and stroked. Up, down, over the tip. He moaned aloud, imaging it was her little silky hand that gripped him. Her hands running up and down the length. He stroked faster, harder. Imagined her velvet lips and tongue lashing at his cock, her little hands gripping his sac as she took him deep in her throat. He pumped vigorously. His hand gripping the hilt and running up over the tip. Harder, faster. Up, down. Then with a shout, his climax consumed him. He roared into the open air, his seed spilling into his palm, his body shaking.
He stood still for a moment, overpowered by his release, by his thoughts of Chloe.
Relishing the feel the calm, frigid water would bring him, he dove into its crisp haven. He swam stroke after stroke, swimming long and hard until he was exhausted. The droplets of water that began to freeze on his nose and cheeks quickly melted. The physical exertion helped him to think.
And he did have a lot of thinking to do, particularly about what he was going to do with the little minx. He had to find out who she was, and what she was doing here, before he could decide her fate. But he couldn’t stop the annoying desire to have her, all of her. Stroking himself into oblivion did little to alleviate his need for her. He’d never met his match before now and he couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life without her.
To hell with the possibility that she may have come there to do away with him, seek her revenge. He wanted her with a ferocity that rocked him to his core. His cock grew hard anew with the need to have her—despite the frigid waters. This had to stop. He had to get control of himself. He was a powerful lord and baron. Someday he’d be the Earl of Northumberland. He had to have more control over himself if he were to have so many people depending on him. She was a traitor to England and his king. There was no way with all that had happened he could marry her. To do that would be to go against his own country.
The blast of cold air on his naked frame as he climbed from the water shocked him back into reality. Suddenly he knew exactly what he had to do. Throwing his clothes on haphazardly, he rode at breakneck speed back to the keep, ignoring the shocked faces of the villagers and angry looks as he nearly ran them down for the third time that day. He yelled for Edward his best friend and captain of the guard and Harold his steward, the two people he trusted with his life. He instructed them meet him in his solar. There he told them of what he thought, and how he meant to solve this riddle. His suspicions of Chloe and how much she resembled his bride, the woman he had seen in the window.
Maude fumed, anger rising and coiling around her insides from somewhere deep within her. Her face burned. Her breaths heaved in and out. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit someone. She wanted to ruin Chloe!
How dare that little harlot accept her hospitality and then destroy her son? His lordship couldn’t have any idea about what a conniving bitch the Scots chit was.
She stalked the two rooms of her house, her feet making impressions on the dirt as she pounded back and forth. She pressed her lips together in a thin line, and furrowed her brows as she stared hatefully at the place Chloe had sat not too long ago.
After all she and James had been through, this could not be happening. Her son was the only family she had left, and that little harlot had taken him from her.
She’s not going to get away with this. I won’t let her. I know how to get her back. I know just how to ruin that little tease. I’ll get my revenge!
She looked down at the satchel she held in a death grip. Her mouth slowly curved into a smile that was anything but pleasant.
A shiver of excitement ran through her.
Revenge would be sweet.
Vicious and cruel laughter escaped her. She narrowed her eyes a
nd stalked from the house.
Several days went by, and Chloe had yet to see or hear from Alexander. When she returned to her room on the day she now thought of as that day she’d been fearful he would order the guards to haul her from her room and throw her in the tower.
He had not, but she walked on a double-edged sword waiting for it to happen. Then she’d seen him sneak off with his second in command. They’d ducked into an alcove, and beyond curious as to whether the conversation pertained to her imprisonment, Chloe slid behind a curtain to listen. She’d listened intently, barely able to breathe. But their conversation had been of an entirely different nature—one she was immeasurably glad she happened to overhear.
“Where?” Alexander demanded.
“Just beyond the border, about two day’s ride away.”
Silence. Chloe bit a finger.
“What were they doing?”
“It appears, my lord, they were gathering forces.”
“For South Hearth or Hardwyck?”
“That part was not clear. Our men engaged with them, most of Fergusson’s men scattered, those that stuck around were killed or taken in for questioning.”
“And?”
“No one talked. Even under duress.”
“What of Fergusson?”
“No sign. But from what one knight murmured as he passed, they were seeking vengeance.”
“Did he say for what exactly?”
“No, but it is assumed for you taking back South Hearth.”
Chloe bit down hard on her lip to keep her silence. Was it possible her family sought vengeance for her? Somehow she doubted it.
“Make sure fortifications are in place. Have the men be on alert for anything out of the ordinary. I don’t think Fergusson will be bold enough to come into the heart of England, but he is most definitely ballsy enough to attempt an attack on South Hearth.”
Daring Damsels Page 13
