Warrior (30 page)

pink cotton bed gown and settled onto

the mattress, the fire at the hearth

warming the room nicely, Magda and

Asha left. Ingrid had found them cots

in the servants’ quarters for the night

and was working on relocating them

closer to the queen. Jaisyn pulled the

soft covers up to her chin and stared

through

the

gauze-like

material

surrounding her bed, at the door that

led to Vulcan’s chambers. Was he

there? Would he come to her tonight?

He had not touched her in thirteen

days. Was he entertaining the lady

from supper in his chambers? Feeling

herself grow angry at the last thought,

she pushed it away and closed her

eyes. She did not care. Burrowing

further into the soft, comfortable bed,

she thought of her sisters. What were

they doing? Was another bard

serenading Mathilda? Was Isolde still

bossing Mathilda around? Warmth

filled her and before long, sleep

claimed her.

***

Jaisyn awoke to a different type of

heat swarming her body. She peeled

her eyes open and blinked sluggishly.

It was dark in her room except for the

low fire burning at the hearth but she

was burning up. She tried to pry the

covers from her body only to find that

there were no covers on her body. In

fact, her hands came in contact with

naked flesh. A squeak escaped her as

she sat up and looked around.

Vulcan lay on his side beside her, a

lazy smile forming on his face. She

glared at him, even as her heart

attempted to jump from her chest

from the heat coursing through her

body.

“What are you doing here and

where

is

my

nightgown?”

she

demanded immediately, crossing her

arms over her breasts.

His eyebrow rose and he replied

easily. “I am here because it is my

right, and as for your nightgown, you

will not need it.”

“Your right? You constantly forget

that I am not your slave, liege.

Besides,

why

pester

me

with

unwanted attentions when there is

another who would eagerly welcome

you into her bed? She sat near you

this eve. Perhaps she is still within the

castle?”

***

The smile vanished and smoldering

grey eyes scanned her face. He chose

to ignore the last part of her question,

knowing without a doubt to whom she

referred. With the frequent glances

she’d sent his way during supper, he

was positive she’d noticed some of

Belinda’s brazen tactics to bring him

back to her bed.

“Unwanted attentions?” Quick as

lightning he reached out and pulled

her back onto the bed, so that she lay

on her side, facing him. Her eyes

widened and she tensed. His lips

brushed her ear and she shuddered

and attempted to pull away. One arm

held her securely to him as the other

slid down her body, burrowing

between her legs, finding the wetness

at her core. He slid a finger inside and

watched her face as she whimpered.

Her bottom lip trembled and he

sucked it into his mouth.

“Are you certain my attentions are

unwanted, wife?” he asked softly,

rolling them both so she lay on her

back with him above her.

She did not answer him. Her

breathing intensified and her eyelids

fluttered down to hide the heated

expression he knew would be in her

golden gaze.

She looked up at him accusingly.

Vulcan withdrew his finger and

smirked.

“I am sorry that you find my

attentions unwanted, Jaisyn,” he said

in what he hoped was a calm,

unaffected manner, before he moved

away from her.

***

Jaisyn sat up, too shocked to utter a

word as Vulcan, clad only in loose

breeches, the glow of the fire playing

deliciously on the muscles in his back,

walked through the door adjoining

their rooms and closed it behind him.

She couldn’t believe it. Vulcan had

come into her room, interrupted her

sleep by arousing her and left her

unfulfilled! Lyria take him! She

reached down and pulled the covers

against her body, biting her lip as they

brushed her sensitive nipples.

Sometime later, finding that she

could not sleep due to the heat pulsing

through her body, Jaisyn slipped from

her bed and tugged on the nightgown

that had been abandoned to the floor.

Slowly, she headed for the door and

before she lost nerve, opened it and

stepped through. Vulcan’s room was

much larger than her own, but she

wasn’t quite as interested in the room

as she was in the man who was

somewhere in it. He would not find

her so easy to toy with. If he intended

to awaken her hunger, and leave her

wanting, he had another thing coming.

Her eyes sought out his bed and she

made her way over to it. The even rise

and fall of his chest told her that her

husband

was

sleeping.

Before

completely losing her nerve, she

pulled the bed gown over her head

and slipped under the covers with him.

He moved immediately, his arm

snaking out to grab her before he fully

awoke.

“Jaisyn?”

he

asked,

confusion

obvious in his tone.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she

lifted her head and attached her lips to

his, running her fingers through his

mane of black hair. Vulcan groaned

into her mouth and crushed her to

him, moving the length of his body

against hers, grinding himself against

her.

His lips moved to her neck. She

moaned loudly and he flicked his

tongue against that spot again. Her

fingers moved down his body, slowing

only when they neared the hardness at

the juncture of his thighs. Grabbing

hold of her nerve, she touched it,

timidly at first, before wrapping her

fingers around the steely length of

flesh.

He let go a ragged moan and she

released him, but when his lips

touched hers once more, silently

encouraging her exploration, she

returned her hand, squeezing gently

before releasing.

***

Shocked at her boldness, Vulcan

could barely lift his head to peer down

at her. Her hands, strong but careful

hands, had him in their grip. Golden

eyes held his unflinchingly. He was

not sure this wasn’t a dream but he

suddenly found he did not care. If it

was a dream, it was a damned good

one. Reaching down, he moved her

hand away, before positioning himself

above her once more. Her legs

stretched up and locked around his

buttocks as her arms snaked around

his back. Vulcan pushed his hips

forward slightly, feeling her moisture

coat the head of his shaft.

Reaching a hand between their

bodies, he pressed his finger against

her swollen nub and attacked her

neck vigorously. She was ready…

more than ready. Grasping his aching

member, he pushed forward, barely

entering her, held still, and rammed

himself home. They both cried out. It

had been too long.

Leaning down, Vulcan kissed her,

forcing his tongue past her lips and

into her mouth as he rode her hard.

Jaisyn moaned and clung to him.

Moments later, a scream erupted from

her throat moments before she

plunged headfirst into the abyss.

Vulcan pulled himself from her

body, and flipped her onto her

stomach. He covered her and began to

place slow kisses along her spine.

Jaisyn surfaced slowly, groaning in

contentment and exhaustion. With a

grin, Vulcan reached past her and

grabbed a pillow, lifting her hips to

settle it underneath.

“What are you doing?” Jaisyn

murmured, moments before he ran a

finger through the wetness at her

apex. Her thighs clenched as a tremor

rocked her body.

“Teaching you something new.”

Vulcan brushed his lips over the pale

scar on her shoulder. She must have

fallen when she was younger.

Dismissing it, he moved further down

her body, kissing her the two perfect

globes of her backside before coming

to his destination. A few quick laps

had her crying out and calling his

name and he inserted two fingers,

caressing her smooth buttocks as he

did so. He felt her clench down on

him as her hips pressed back against

his hand. Quickly, he removed his

fingers and grasped her hips, lifting

her slightly.

“Vulcan,” she whimpered softly,

turning her head to look at him. He

entered her slowly this time.

By the time he was fully cloaked in

her warmth, they were both covered

in a new sheen of sweat. Vulcan

nipped at her shoulder lightly before

raising himself onto his hands and

rolling his hips.

Jaisyn clutched the sheets into her

fists, and pushed back against him

eagerly. She felt full, full to the point

of bursting. The speed of his thrusts

increased and she could focus on

nothing else except for how he made

her feel.

***

Vulcan rose to his knees and

grabbed her hips, one in each hand,

forcing her to go to her knees as well.

He reared back and delved deep.

Jaisyn’s eyes flew open, feeling him

go deeper than he’d ever gone before.

A cry escaped her lips and he thrust

again. Another cry. Thrust. She

screamed his name. He pushed

forward again. She shattered, coming

apart on a shout that began as his

name and ended as a scream. He was

not

far

behind.

His

deflating

appendage slipped from her body and

he easily maneuvered her, pulling her

against him. Her eyes were closed;

her eyelashes fanned her flushed

cheeks. He stared at her face for

many long moments, cast in shadow

and light by the fire at the hearth,

before closing his eyes.

Jaisyn of Lytheria was getting under

his skin and he did not like it. He was

beginning to care about his wife, and

that was a weakness. Before Jaisyn,

the Northern Wolf had had only one

weakness—his brother—and he did

not consider it a true weakness, as

Varian was more than capable of

defending himself. Although Jaisyn

was a spitfire, and seemed to have a

knack for lifting deadly weapons

against him, she was a woman. She

would not last against any of his

warriors, or any of his enemies. A

scowl touched his lips. He would have

to make sure she did not become one

of his weaknesses, for both of their

sakes.

Chapter 9

Neren, Lytheria

With a snarl upon his face, Kegan

Reinhardt stared at the parchment in

his hand. He, like many of the nobles

of Lytheria, had heard the Northern

Wolf had forced the submission of the

Lytherian army, married Jaisyn St.

Ives, and declared himself rightful

ruler of Lytheria. While that had

enraged Kegan for many a week, this

made him seethe in unbridled rage.

The missive was simple and to the

point. At the request of the new ‘king’

of Lytheria, all nobles were required

to pay homage to their new liege, by

way of swearing their loyalty to the

king’s proxy, Prince Varian Mor’an,

at St. Ives Castle, and paying whatever

dues were owed. Kegan glared at the

missive once more. The Mor’an crest

at the top seemed to mock him. With

a cry, he tore it to shreds, allowing

bits of paper to scatter across the

table.