His Captive Princess (8 page)

Sorry they’d started as enemies.

She winced as another thought struck her. “So this is why you have assassins trying to kill you?”

“Perhaps.” His voice was clipped. “There are some who hate me for other reasons.”

Her gut squeezed. She couldn’t change her course of action—not when Lew’s life hung in the balance—but she couldn’t make herself hate Warren, either.

Beyond caring if any priests were watching, she followed her instincts, letting go of her blanket to cup his face in her hands. The rough texture of his skin against her palms felt masculine and earthy. Natural. His fascinating eyes widened with surprise, then his gaze lowered to her lips as the sadness he’d shared dissolved into the same hunger she felt.

Desire surged within Eleri. Unable to stop herself, she brought her mouth to his.

His hands slid into her hair, holding her as he returned her kiss. She wouldn’t have ended it, though. Not when his touch brought such relief to her. His lips brushed over the corners of her mouth, the tip of his tongue slowly following the curve of her lower lip before she opened to him. His fingers caressed the back of her neck, sliding up and down, awakening her senses to the pure pleasure of his coarse skin against hers. She suckled his tongue, and he groaned.

His hands floated down her body before fisting in the front of her thin chemise.

Oh, Goddess!
She’d come outside dressed in her sleeping garment.

Panicking, she reached for the blanket, but Warren’s fingers captured her breast and fondled her flesh. “We’re alone,” he murmured.

Her body tingled with wicked pleasure, her fear seeping away into the night.

He lifted his head and kissed her cheek then beneath her ear and along her jaw. He grabbed her waist and urged her closer, angling his head to nibble her neck. As he descended her collarbone and dropped a trail of warm kisses along the edge of her bodice, she arched her back, giving him complete permission.

His hand slid around her thigh and pulled her legs across his lap. Then, with his arms wrapped securely around her, he lowered his mouth to her breast and took her nipple through the fabric of her gown. Heat fanned through her.

She gripped his solid shoulder in one hand and sank her other hand into his hair, holding him to her breast. “Warren—”

He lifted his head, cradling her damp bosom in his hand. His thumb stroked across her hardened nipple, sending darts of delight through her as he regarded her. “Mmm…I like the sound of my name on your lips. I would like it even better if we didn’t have to whisper. Come with me.” He set her on her feet, rising as he steadied her against his chest.

Her knees wobbled, and she was thankful for his arms around her. He took her hand to lead her toward the stables.

“No.” She pulled against him, unwilling to end things, but also not wanting to risk discovery. Mayhap just this once they could act not as enemies, but as equals. Tomorrow would probably find her nursing regrets, but tonight—just this once—she would take what she wanted. “Not the barn. In here.”

He glanced over the top of her head at her door and smiled.

Chapter Eight

Warren’s heart was pounding like a green youth’s by the time he shut the door and Eleri lit a sconce in the wall, illuminating her bedchamber. She held her blanket in front of her chemise as she backed away from him, moving toward the bed. Her eyes were rounded, her lips cherry red from their kisses.

He needed time to calm his racing pulse and allow her to do the same if he was going to make love to her without acting like some berserker gone too long at sea. She deserved better.

She was a princess, so she needed the gentle hands of a prince.

He scanned the room. There were no other furnishings, only the bed, narrow yet serviceable for their purposes, covered in furs and blankets befitting a royal visitor of the abbey. The walls, however, needed patching. The firelight danced from the night breeze leaking through.

No wonder her fingers were so cold.

He frowned as an angry vein kicked in his neck.

“The room is not to your liking, my lord?”

His gaze swept back to her. Still clinging to her blanket, she regarded him with a regal tilt of her chin.

He smiled. “Better than sleeping on the ground and in the trees. I’ll warrant ’tis not the accommodations either of us prefers, but we’ll make the most of it,
oui
?”

She nodded with a faint smile.

So beautiful.
He pushed his hair from his forehead to keep from reaching for her.

Why was this so difficult?

If he waited too long she might change her mind. At any moment she might recall the evils his countrymen had caused her people and send him away with a boot to the backside. There was no time to waste if he wanted to woo her.

Pouncing on her isn’t the answer either.

He cleared his throat, though he was far from parched—fairly salivating, actually, for another taste of Eleri. “Did, um…the brothers leave you aught to drink?”

“Aye.” She went to a tray left in the corner of the room and retrieved a cup, which she filled and brought back.

He took the vessel and his unsteady fingers brushed hers in the exchange.

Eleri looked away, causing the single plait of her hair to fall over her shoulder.

He tossed back the mead, barely allowing the sweet taste of honey to linger on his tongue. He had other cravings to satisfy.

“Delicious.
Merci
.” He returned the empty cup to her. She replaced the vessel in the corner, and he found his words. “I liked your hair down, the way it was when we arrived here. Would you—”

Her fingers unwound the braid before he could finish his request. There was something artless in her movements, a lack of confidence—the only uncertainty he’d witnessed from her—and it pulled at him like a siren’s song.

His feet led him closer until he stood less than an arm’s length away from her. He reached tentatively for her hair, finishing the work for her. His fingers slid through the unraveled, silken waves, and he held them in the firelight, watching the shimmering color that rivaled the flame.

Red gold against silver skin. Everything about her radiated like the moon and the sun. A treasure to plunder.

Only this treasure would hopefully soon belong to him. A prize that none could match or better—not even his royal kin.

Excitement fueled his ardor. He unfastened his belt, and it fell to the floor along with his sword, making a loud twang. Eleri jumped, and he cursed himself beneath his breath for being a fool again.

“Forgive me for my eagerness. Since I set eyes on you, I’ve wanted this moment.” He took her by the shoulders and caressed the elegant curve of her arm muscles beneath his thumbs. An archer, she had the limbs of Diana, he reminded himself, sending more blood to his already painful member.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and he was nearly lost. “I should be honest, my lord. I may be a widow, but I’m not very familiar…that is to say, I’m not as practiced as you might—”

“Shhh.” He put a finger to her mouth when her gaze avoided his. He smiled. “I suspect I’ll enjoy creating new experiences with you. Let’s leave the past outside your door. In here, there’s only you and me,
n’est-ce pas
?”

She nodded, lifting her chin a notch higher as she met his gaze. His chest tightened with respect.

Mayhap Stephen had thought he’d been playing a terrible trick on his cousin and rival for the throne by sending him here to claim his so-called willing bride, but in fact, there was surely no other woman who could arouse Warren with such fervor as the fiery shield maiden.

“Put down your blanket, Eleri, and remove your clothing,” he said, his voice gone hoarse. “I want to see you.”

After another nod, she tossed the blanket on the bed. Her hands made fists in the sides of her gown, then she pulled it over her head to drop on the ground between them.

Her flesh was pure alabaster with the exception of her chest, which was a rosy shade of pink beneath his scrutiny. Her breasts were as perfect as he’d imagined when he’d explored them with his hands earlier. Heavy yet pert. The nipples stood in hardened buds, ripe berries he wished to lick and suckle. Every inch of her was extraordinary.

With light fingertips, he traced the sway of her narrow waist down the feminine curve of her hip—smooth, supple skin that converged in a triangle at the juncture of her thighs where a small vee of gilt-red curls brought life to his fantasies.

How could he put into words how much he appreciated her beauty when his brain had relocated to his groin? He managed to murmur, “
Ma cœur.
”

Her hip cocked, and she crossed her arms beneath her breasts, which pushed them closer beneath his view. “Should you not disrobe as well, milord?”

Eleri scowled at herself, hurrying to the sanctuary of the bed while Warren removed his tunic. He probably didn’t like what he saw, the same as Owain hadn’t.

Merlin’s beard! You said you wouldn’t think of anyone else!

She really must keep her word and think only about the two of them.

Diving under the blankets, she quickly covered her nakedness in case her looks disappointed him. Yet when Warren removed his boots and slid his trousers off, revealing long, chiseled legs and his thick staff, she immediately forgot everyone
except
Warren.

Her throat tightened as he drew near, his imposing, naked form looming before her. Broad shouldered, narrow hipped and carved into hard angles with corded muscles, he made her pine for more of his kisses and tender caresses that always seemed to put her at ease. In his arms she’d finally found the enjoyment and passion she’d been missing.

Reaching her, Warren knelt and offered her his open hand. She clutched the blanket to her breasts and lightly put her fingertips against his callused palm. Locked in his smoldering stare, she watched as he lifted her knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss against them.

“Your Highness, your beauty is beyond compare.”

Eleri rolled her eyes while flushing to her roots. “Must you tease me? I trow well enough that I look nothing like your women from England or Normandy.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he rubbed his cheek against the back of her hand. “’Tis my good fortune you do not. You are unique, rare and utterly irresistible. But what about me,
ma belle fée rouge?
Would you say
I look nothing like your countrymen either?” Still holding her hand, he spread his arms wide for her scrutiny.

Eleri laughed, barely catching her blanket as it dipped in the movement. “You know you do, thanks to me! At least for now.”

A line appeared between his brows. “You prefer me this way? Mayhap my form isn’t to your liking.”

She tugged teasingly on his hand when he looked down, and bit her lip to keep from smiling too broadly. “You just want to be told you’re handsome. I’ll wager you made a very bad monk, my lord.”

“You think I’m handsome?” His eyes darkened.

The chill in the chamber had become a distant memory because suddenly the covers felt too warm.

His gaze lowered to her breasts, scalding her with the intensity of his stare. “At this moment, I’m exceedingly glad I’m no longer a monk.”

She saw his intentions when his smoky eyes lifted to her lips, and she leaned forward, meeting him halfway. Her arms went around his neck as he settled beside her. His kiss was urgent, and restraint hummed in the skin beneath her fingertips like a plucked harp string. Then the kiss deepened as he explored the farthest reaches of her mouth, provocative and inciting. She melted.

He kissed her neck, his hands skimming over her shoulder blades, then gliding to the front to discover the slopes of her breasts. She released the blanket between them, giving him full access. His mouth passed across her chest with kisses and tiny flicks of his tongue, as his fingers scaled the peaks of her nipples. He took her into his mouth and…
oh Goddess!
…stoked her need with soft nibbles.

Her fingers dug into his shoulder muscles, fighting wild urges. At any moment she would surely die.

“Let me hold you. Let me touch you, Eleri.” He kissed a trail from her chest to her throat. “I must have you.”

A quavering sigh escaped her. “Can I touch you the same as I watched you do?”

He swallowed audibly. “
Oui
, I would like that. But allow me to pleasure you first. I want to enjoy you as long as possible. We have all night,
ma
cœur
.”

Oh, yes. She wanted the same. All night.

He eased her back on the bed as he moved over her, putting his legs between hers. His arousal touched hers, sending sparks through her, but he placed his hand between their bodies. Kissing her neck, he cupped her mound. She tilted her hips, leaning into his touch.

He moaned against her neck. She felt his finger slip inside to spread the dew against her entrance. She’d never known a man could be caring and unhurried. Hunger twined through her.

She stroked his back and flat stomach, loving the feel of his hard warrior’s body against her softer flesh. “Warren, I need—”

“I aim to give it to you…and more.” He kissed her ear and nibbled her earlobe.

Her body ached with emptiness and longing.

His hand molded to her buttocks as he lifted her. Her knees drew up around him, and he slid down, kissing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he caressed her with growing abandon. Murmuring praise, he dipped his fingers within her heat, pausing for a taste. His dark head moved between her thighs and she gasped, shock rolling through her. But the warmth of his tongue sent her headlong into ecstasy. She pushed up on her elbows, giving herself to the crashing wave of pleasure he’d created.

Her release was frenzied and manic. She shook all over as the moment took her. He rose, watching her response with heat in his eyes.

“Eleri,” he rasped and nuzzled her throat. His penis rested heavy on her stomach, making the ache inside her return. “
Je suis désolé.
I was wrong. I…cannot wait.” He groaned against her neck.

With a ragged breath, he pushed up and stared into her eyes with fierce anguish. She gulped for a bolstering breath of courage as his powerful body hovered over her, and he entered. His thickness filled her until she tensed around him. She cried out at the sudden pressure, and he echoed with a moan of satisfaction. Their fit was tight, but so very perfect. She whimpered with excitement when he deepened his thrust, burying himself to the hilt within her. Too long she’d hoped to feel like this.

“See what you do to me,
ma cœur!
” His body shook as well as he rocked into her slowly.

Her body grew more pliant around him, adjusting to his size. His rhythm unraveled her from the inside out, making her want and want like she’d never wanted before. She ran her hands down his chest, over her distinctive markings that seemed to brand him as hers alone. “
Warren, yes… Please.
”

Her spirit seemed to soar with his, spiraling together, dizzying, out of control.

The pressure was too much. She would shatter at any moment.

Breathless and perhaps knowing her anguish, he slowed, his gaze meeting hers with hunger and the glitter of some emotion that might be gratification. “Say you’ll be mine, Eleri.”

“Aye,” she whispered. Then through gritted teeth, she pleaded, “
Anything, aye
!”

He deepened his thrust further than she thought possible, yet she arched into him, taking him deeper still. He groaned. Then, moving with more desperation, he clutched her hips, pulled back and thrust again. Her bones felt as if they would pull apart, yet she reached for him, taking each force of his strong body. When he thrust again, she gripped him tight, wanting to attach him to her completely.

She reached her pleasure again.

He moaned her name, hardening from head to foot, then stilled with his eyes closed in ecstasy, his head tilted back. For a moment they lingered, perfectly molded as one being.

His seed pumped deep inside her, filling her with the sweetest warmth before his head fell forward, touching her shoulder gently. He nuzzled her neck, kissing beneath her chin as he withdrew. Then he scooped her into his arms, rolling her over, and took her place on the bed while she rested on his chest. His arms encircled her as his fingers played up and down her arms.

His skin was dewy but pleasant, so she snuggled against him. A sense of comfort warmed her all over. She placed her hand over his heart and closed her eyes, thanking her goddess for guiding her to him, for the healer who saved him, and for Lew for allowing him to live.

When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her. His gaze was soft and curious. Never had she seen a more beautiful man, and in comparison, she wondered at the other women he’d held. Courtesans, the noble ladies she’d seen in court processions.

How had she, a shield maiden of Gwynedd, compared to them with her lack of experience and unpracticed skills?

Her one time with Owain had been hasty. A few moments of grunts, pain and a terrible sense of loss when he’d rolled off of her before he’d drunkenly sauntered back to his own bedchamber.