The Warrior Poet (35 page)

She cocked an
eyebrow at him.
"Tomorrow?
Why not today?"

He matched her
raised brow.
"Because we will not be here to enjoy it.
Tomorrow, upon our return, 'twill
be
a fine meal of
fresh bread to greet us."

"I don't
understand. Why won't we be here to enjoy our bread today?"

Christian's hand
left Malcolm's head; suddenly, Gaithlin's entire face was encompassed by two
great palms and the familiar surge of delicious excitement fired through her
slender body. Licking her lips, she waited with quivering anticipation for
Christian's delectable kiss and was mildly disappointed when he seemed content
for the moment to stare deeply into her eyes.

"Because we
will be traveling to an abbey, south of Castle Douglas along the Firth of
Solway," his rich voice was a sensuous growl. When Gaithlin's eyebrows
rose questioningly, he continued with a faint smile. "You see, my lady, I
am no longer content to lie beside you at night, forbidden by your logic to
devour my fill of your luscious body. Since you wish to wait for our marriage
before you relinquish your innocence, I have decided that tonight will see this
matter accomplished."

A flicker of a
smile danced across her rosy lips. "We will be married today?"

"Indeed.
As I told you, 'twas always my intention to marry you immediately.
The sooner we return to Eden as man and wife, the sooner we can settle the
foolish boundaries of the Feud."

Her smile broadened
as her hands came
up,
joy such as she had never
experienced filling her heart. The warmth, the delight, was beyond the
expression of mere words; Merciful Heavens, how she was desperate to show him
the emotions churning within her heart.

She thought herself
a fool for having ever resisted his proposal. It was no longer merely the issue
of joining two families that had known nothing but the devastation of war for
the past seven decades; whether or not peace came as a result of their union
was no longer a concern to her. What mattered was that she and Christian would
be married, forever of one soul and heart and body. Forever to live as man and
wife, no matter what the future contained.

She was so happy
she could scarcely contain her emotions. There would be nothing else on the
earth that would every cause her to experience more joy than she was sampling
at this moment, and as Christian's ice-blue eyes blazed against the flushed
vision of her beautiful face, she wound her hands behind his thick neck.

"I want to be
your wife, Christian," she breathed, her eyes riveted to his sensual lips
as they loomed closer and closer with each successive moment. "I want to
be all to you."

"You already
are all to me," his voice was husky, feeling her need and excitement as it
mingled with his own. "Haven't you realized that by now?"

She nodded
unsteadily, feeling his deliciously searing breath on her face. Merciful
Heavens, the nearer he beckoned, the hotter she became.
 
What had started as a joyful demonstration of
their mutual agreement had suddenly encroached into the familiar territory of
lust and desire. A raging wildfire that neither one could manage to control.

His lips clamped
down upon her tender mouth, whimpers of passion and pleasure filling the air.
Tongues met with natural ease, tasting the recognizable essence captured within
their individual qualities as they licked and plundered and ravished. Fingers
tightly embedded within his honey-blond tresses, Gaithlin was rapidly losing
what was left of her draining senses.

"Oh, Christian,"
she gasped against his mouth. "I don't want to wait until tonight. I want
to know you now. I want to show you the joy of my heart."

He suckled fiercely
on her tongue, growling heavily in response to her plea. He was so overwhelmed
with the taste and feel of her that he could barely form a coherent thought
beyond lifting her from the ground and carrying her towards their shelter. If
she wanted him now, then he would not dare dispute the boundaries of their
earlier conversation; after all, they were to be married this day. What
difference did it make if he took her before or after the ceremony?

He would take her
this morn. He would take her tonight. For the rest of their lives, she would be
the Demon's wife and he would take her every day until the sun forever ceased
to shine. Good Christ, how he had waited for this moment.

Kicking open the
door of their shelter, he was barely cognizant when Gaithlin called
breathlessly to Malcolm, diverting the lad's attention with chores and
instructions while the adults were left to their pleasure. Setting her to their
pallet in a heat of passion, he wedged the ancient door closed before returning
to Gaithlin with an expression she had seen many a time before. Only this time,
it was far more potent.

His red-swollen
mouth worked as if he was attempting to speak, somehow offering the summation
of his emotions. But he couldn't seem to form the correct thoughts regarding
the most monumental event of his life and without further
ado,
he moved across the brittle rushes and pulled Gaithlin against his chest with
more tenderness than he ever knew to exist.

Fastened to his
wonderful lips, Gaithlin moaned softly as his hands moved to the stays of her
gown, removing it from her supple body with deft experience. She was so
consumed with the delight of his heated mouth that she was unaware when his
hands left her, removing his tunic with such blind eagerness that he tore a
seam. The boots and breeches immediately followed and before Gaithlin realized
the extent of their naked state, she was on her back and completely covered by
his massive body.

Christian thought
he might ease her natural apprehension with a few well-chosen words at this
point; in fact, he had been practicing such words for precisely this event. But
as the actual moment happed upon him, he was so selfishly involved in the feel
of their naked flesh that the only sound capable of coming forth from his
throat was an animalistic rumble.

There was nothing
that mumbled words could convey better than his tender touch was capable of
expressing. His hands roved and caressed, probed and stroked, as Gaithlin
writhed beneath him with her usual abandon, as if she had experienced his
desire a thousand times before. Christian devoured every movement beneath him,
savoring the motion, knowing that never in his life had he sampled anything so
incredibly wondrous.

His mouth found her
beautiful breasts, lapping and suckling the tender fruits with the greatest of
pleasure. He could feel Gaithlin's fingers in his hair, urging him onward,
demanding his attention, and he was so consumed with his own erotic lust that
his hands were literally shaking as he explored every inch of her
mouth-watering flesh.

Gaithlin mind was
focused on one thing; the only matter of concern was Christian's gentle, powerful
hands as they possessively kneaded her breasts and the anticipation of the
erotic delights his mouth had yet to introduce. Unafraid of his lustful
onslaught as a proper virgin should have been, it was not within her nature to
fear; instead, she was inherently moved to the brink of expectation as his
wicked attentions continued towards untapped depths.

Yet in spite of her
eagerness to experience his passion, she bolted when his fingers gently probed
the blond triangle of curls between her legs. Passion somewhat damped by
apprehension, her eyes fluttered open to find Christian wedged between her open
thighs, breathing heavily as he gazed lustily upon her most private core.

"Christian...,"
she licked her dry lips, struggling to form a complete sentence capable of
relaying her natural concern.

He tore his eyes
away from her delightfully pulsating blossom, meeting her cat-shaped eyes.
"Trust me, honey," he rasped, running his hands the length of her
torso until he came to her breasts. Fondling gently, he relished in her sighs
of pleasure. "You must trust me. I have dreamed of this longer than you
can know and I promise I shall be entirely gentle with you."

She shuddered
violently when his fingers pinched her taut nipples and her eyes closed once
more, her apprehension fading in lieu of the erotic anticipation.
"How... how long?"

Satisfied that she
had relaxed once more, his hands left her breasts and moved to grasp her
buttocks.
"A long, long time.
Months."

"Months?"
her voice was barely a whisper. "We have only known each other a few
days."

He cocked an
eyebrow, smiling at the crystal-clear recollection of his nude water nymph on
that searing August day. "I have dreamed of you every day since the first
I saw you, wet and nude and uninhibited."

In spite of her lust-induced
haze, Gaithlin managed to grasp the confusing gist of his words. "I... I
wasn't nude when you first saw me, Christian. True, I was wet, but... oh!"

Her back arched up
from the rushes as his tenderly probing fingers found her swollen bud of passion.
He laughed softly as her legs quaked involuntarily to his gently erotic touch.
"Aye, honey, you were nude." He bent low, depositing a line of sweet
kisses just above the border of kinky curls. "You were swimming in a lake.
And I watched you through the shield of the forest, dreaming of the moment when
I would be free to touch you as I am now."

She didn't say
anything for a moment. Then, her eyes opened once more and she raised her head,
gazing at him with suspicion and lust-hazed confusion. "You... you saw me
swimming in a lake?
When?"

He grinned, kissing
her groin once more as his fingers raked her dark-blond mat. "Well over a
month ago.
A lake in the disputed territories that you
frequented regularly."

She stared at him,
the flush of passion abruptly transforming into a mottle of embarrassment and
anger.
 
Suddenly, she propped herself up
on her elbows and attempted to slide away from him, struggling to close her
thighs. Gripping her legs tightly, Christian was not surprised with her
outraged reaction; in fact, he had expected it.

"You will tell
me why you were spying on me, Christian St. John!" she demanded. "And
why did you not tell me this before?"

He held onto her
knees tightly, wrestling with her strong legs as she struggled to pull free.
"Truthfully, because I never saw the need to tell you.
It didn't seem to be a staunchly pressing matter." When she drove her heel
into his rock-hard thigh, he grunted with mounting irritation. "Gae, I
didn't even know who you were at the time. Quinton found you weeks before while
on patrol and...."

"Quinton?"
she shrieked. "Who is this Quinton? Kelvin mentioned him as well!"

"My
brother," Christian grunted again when she inadvertently kneed him in the
ribs.
"My younger, more foolish brother who was as
enchanted by your magnificent beauty as I was."

She succeeded in
yanking one leg free and twisted to her side. Christian released his hold on
her remaining leg and threw himself forward, trapping her between his massive
body and the wool of their pallet. Gazing at the profile of her flushed,
furious, beautiful face, he couldn't help but chuckle softly at her
indignity.
 
In spite of her justifiable
anger, he refused to allow her violent mood to spoil his own pleasure; dipping
his head, he began to rain gentle kisses upon her neck and shoulder.

"Don't do
that," she insisted hotly, squirming beneath him in an attempt to dislodge
his massive weight. "You will not be forgiven so easily for this... this
embarrassment. Tell me; why did you not think it a staunchly pressing matter to
mention that you had spied on me?"

"I didn't spy.
I observed your water ballet with the greatest delight and respect," he
grinned maliciously as his lips delicately brushed her silken neck.
"'Twas Quinton who spied."

She grunted angry,
terribly distracted from her fury by his tender kisses. "So your brother
saw me naked as well? Merciful Heavens, I have never been so mortified in my
entire life! How can you not see the severity of this terrible situation?"

He cocked an amused
eyebrow, his lips dancing over the crest of her shoulder.
"Because
the situation is not at all severe.
You were swimming in lake within
compromised lands and my brother happed across you while on patrol. Being a
normal, lusty male, he was naturally enchanted by your presence and chose not
to announce himself lest you become frightened or, coming to know you as I
have, most likely violent. You could have very well injured my little brother
in your anger."

She didn't reply as
she pondered his reasonable explanation, her jaw ticking in frustration and
humiliation. He continued to grin at her, his mouth moving to her earlobe.
Christian knew her anger was abating when he saw her eyes flutter closed as he
suckled the tender morsel of flesh.

"Don't be
angry, Gae," he murmured. "There is no need. I knew from the moment I
first saw you frolicking about in the pond that I would have you."

Miffed but rapidly
succumbing to his attentions, she found she could no longer maintain her shame.
If Christian was not slighted by his brother's knowledge of his future wife's
deliciously naked body, then she reasoned her insult was hardly worth the
effort.