Knight of Desire (16 page)

Just when she thought nothing could divert her from the feeling of his mouth on her breast, she felt his fingers sliding up
the inside of her thigh. He dragged his fingers up and down, each time coming closer to her center. The rampant sensations
racing through her now were more than she could bear.

Her body tensed with anticipation. Closer, closer. When his hand brushed the hair between her legs, a shiver went through
her. All her concentration was on willing him to touch her again. When he barely brushed her a second time, she wanted to
pound her fist against the bed in frustration.

Finally, finally, he pressed his fingers to the aching spot. It was as if he had known all along exactly where she needed
to be touched and how. Her body began to move against his hand.

He took hold of her hips. Every part of her skin that touched him tingled as he pulled her along his body. He eased her down
until the sensitive place he had been rubbing with his hand touched the tip of his shaft.

She stiffened.

“You have trusted me this far,” he said, his voice tight, strained. “Trust me for the rest.”

Putting his hands on either side of her face, he pulled her into a kiss. Their tongues danced together in a rhythm her body
knew. The kiss was wet and hot and not enough. This time when the tip of his shaft touched her, she pressed against it. She
wanted to be touched there, to feel him hard against her.

“Do not leave me, Kate,” he rasped in her ear. “Do not leave me.”

As he slid inside her, she inhaled at the unexpected rush of pleasure. They lay nearly motionless, breathing hard. Her body
was tight, tense, aware of every inch of him inside her. He kissed her face and hair. She resisted when he pushed her up by
her shoulders, regretting any distance between them.

“You are so beautiful.” The strength of the desire in his voice wiped away any awkwardness she felt at finding herself sitting
astride him. And the pressure inside her felt so good.

He grasped her hips again. As he showed her how to move, the heat in his eyes almost burned her skin. Soon, her body found
its own rhythm, and she was moving helplessly against him.

She leaned over him, needing to kiss him now. The tips of her breasts brushed against his chest as their mouths joined. She
pressed her hips against him as he pushed up against her. Finally, she had to break away to breathe. She leaned back, losing
herself wholly to the movement, aware of nothing but the powerful sensations emanating from where their bodies were joined.

“Slower, Kate,” he begged. “Slower, please.”

But she ignored his plea. The sensations pulsed through her, nearly blinding her. As they overtook her, she fell forward and
grabbed on to his shoulders. From a distance, she heard screaming as spasms of pleasure shook her.

“God have mercy!” she said as she collapsed over him.

He folded his arms around her and held her tightly against his chest. When she gasped, “I cannot breathe,” he eased his hold
and ran his fingers lightly over her back. Her skin was so sensitive that she shivered. Her body spasmed as she realized she
could still feel the full length of him deep inside her.

As she listened to his rapid heartbeat against her ear, she tried to piece together what had just happened to her. A wave
of embarrassment hit her.

“Was that me screaming?” she asked in a whisper.

With an inarticulate groan, he gripped her shoulders and pressed himself deeper inside her. His answer came in huffs as he
thrust against her. “Aye. Aye. Aye.”

She pushed herself up to lean against him, arms extended, and moved with him. The ache inside her grew. His need, his urgency
became hers. Faster and harder, he slammed against her. She felt it coming again and wanted to beg him not to stop. And then
she felt him surge inside her and heard him cry her name. Triumphant, she went over the edge with him.

Catherine felt light-headed from lack of sleep as she lay awake, watching the sleeping form of her husband in the gray light
of early dawn. She sighed in contentment. It had been a long and wondrous night.

William taught her the joy that is possible between a man and a woman, the miraculous giving and receiving of pleasure. But
she also learned something he did not intend to teach her. Something, she was certain, he did not yet know himself.

“Do not leave me, do not leave me,” he whispered each time he was deep inside her.

She sensed the core loneliness in him. She understood his words meant more than that he wanted her fully with him in bed.

This physical pleasure, astonishing as it was, was only the beginning of what he needed from her.

F
or the first time in his life, William dreaded going to war. He did not want to be away from Catherine for a single night.

For now, King Henry and the prince were busy sweeping up the last remnants of the rebellion in the North. The Welsh had been
quiet since their losses at Grosmont and Pwll Melyn in the spring. The lull in the fighting, however, would not last.

Soon, he would be off fighting the Welsh. Perhaps the French as well. Once the fighting began again, he might be gone for
weeks. He tried not to think of it.

Still, he worked his men hard to keep their skills sharp so they would be prepared. He had only to catch a glimpse of Catherine,
though, to be distracted. If she walked into the hall while he was talking with his men or crossed the bailey yard while they
practiced with their weapons, he would stop in place and watch her until she passed from sight.

His men were amused by the change in him. They had always respected him as a sure and talented commander, a skilled fighter,
a man who kept his word. But they had never been at ease with him before. Now he laughed at jokes they would never have told
him before. They even teased him about the cause of the new lightness in his step.

To a man, they were green with envy when Catherine left the hall on his arm each night. Truth be told, he suspected they were
all a little in love with her. Even so, they were all pleased for him.

All, that is, save for Edmund Forrester.

Edmund warned him to watch for the betrayal he was sure would come.

The next weeks passed in a blur of happiness for Catherine. She and William could not wait for night to come. As often as
he could, he slipped away for an hour or two in the middle of the day to whisk her off to their rooms.

Jamie adored William and followed him around like a puppy. Every time she heard Jamie squeal with delight as William swung
the boy onto his shoulders, she thanked God for her blessings. She would not have dared hope for so much only a few weeks
before.

There was just one mar on her happiness: Her husband still did not trust her. Edmund’s goading bothered her even more now
that she bared her own soul to William every night.

“William, you have never told me about your family or your home in the North,” she said as they lay in bed.

They had come to bed early, as had become their habit, and spent themselves making love. The summer evening sky was still
light enough for her to see the outline of his strong features.

She decided that if he trusted her enough to share his secret with her, she would tell him about Edmund’s behavior. She could
be sure then that he would believe her.

She propped herself up on one elbow and rested her hand on his bare chest. “I want to know everything.”

“Everything?” He waggled his eyebrows, trying to make a joke of it. “All the women as well?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Just the ugly ones.”

He laughed and kissed her.

“Stop it!” she said between kisses. “You are trying to divert me.”

He rolled her onto her back and pressed his erection against her hip. “Tell me I am succeeding.”

He trailed kisses down her neck. When she gave in, she did so wholeheartedly.

She did not, however, forget her question. The next morning, she grabbed his arm as he was slipping out of bed.

“Why will you not tell me?”

“Tell you what?” he said, pretending not to understand.

“About your family.”

“Must you badger me about this, woman?”

Hurt, she released his arm and said nothing more.

William began to dress. The silence was strained, but she was not going to be the one to break it. William picked up his boots
and sat down to put them on.

“All right, Catherine.” He expelled a deep breath, making no effort to hide his exasperation.

He jerked on one boot. “Like most boys, I was sent off for my training at an early age.” He jerked on the other boot. “Perhaps
I was a bit younger than most.”

He stood and took his belt from the back of the chair. “I was never close to any of my family. Except for John.”

She noticed how his voice changed when he mentioned John.

“He was my half brother, younger by three years,” he said as he strapped on his sword. In a tone meant to convey the subject
was closed, he said, “John is dead. Without him, there is nothing and no one for me in the North.”

“What of your mother and father? Are they still living?”

William picked up his leather riding gloves from the chest where Thomas had set them out the evening before. “Will these be
your parting words to me, Catherine? My men await me.”

“Oh, you go to Hereford!” she cried, putting her hand to her mouth. “I had forgotten.”

He was meeting with the other Marcher lords in Hereford and would be gone at least four days. She leapt out of the bed and
into his arms. His clothes felt rough against her bare skin.

“I wish I could go with you,” she said.

“That would be far too dangerous.” He smiled and winked at her. “These Marcher lords are a conniving lot, so I must have my
wits about me.”

“But I know the whole conniving lot and could advise you,” she said. “Watch out for Lord Grey. He has the land north of here
and wants to add some of ours to his.”

“The risk is too great to take you, since I travel with only a half-dozen men.” He kissed her forehead. “I am leaving most
of the men here to keep watch on this part of the border.”

She leaned against him, knowing the argument was lost.

“You and Jamie will be safe here,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “I am leaving Edmund in command.”

“Not Edmund!” She said it before she knew it.

“He is the best man I have,” William said. “I trust him to keep Ross Castle—and you—safe until I return.”

She put her hand on her hip and pressed her lips together.

“That is more important to me than whether you like the man, Catherine. I do not know what you find so objectionable about
him. Edmund is a good man.”

She did not want to argue with William as he was leaving. Instead, she wound her arms around her husband’s neck and gave him
a kiss she hoped he would remember all the way to Hereford.

Catherine went out to the garden with Jamie, hoping the sunshine would lift the melancholy that settled over her after William’s
departure. She watched Jamie try to catch a grasshopper. Each time he brought his cupped hands over it, it leapt away just
in time. It got away for good when William’s manservant came into the garden and interrupted Jamie’s concentration.