The Warrior and the Dove - A Short Novel (Medieval Chronicles) (9 page)

“That was hardly
your mother’s fault.”

He smiled and
placed the empty wine cup on the table. “I don’t think he blamed her, or me for
that matter. He wasn’t unkind, just distant and disinterested. After I was born
there were no more children. Having got a son to carry on the family name, he
spent all his time with his books and religious studies.”

“That seems so
cold,” she murmured, and searched his face in silent query.

“Nay,” he said,
and his hazel eyes glittered with an intensity that set her pulse racing. “That
will never happen with us, my lovely girl. There is nothing on this earth that
will keep me from your bed, no matter how many sons we have.”

She drew in a
breath at the utter certainty in his voice. Her gaze shifted to the bed, then
back to him. “Does that have something to do with what happens between husband
and wife?” she asked shyly.

“It does
indeed,” he said, his voice husky with a note she hadn’t heard before. He
cradled her face with his free hand and bent his head until his mouth was a
breath away from hers. “Would you like me to show you, little wife?”

She nodded, and
as his lips touched hers, sighed and nestled into his embrace. She knew his
kisses, knew and wanted them.

“You have the
sweetest mouth,” he murmured, touching the seam of her lips with his tongue.
“So soft and sweet. Let me inside, darling.”

Her lips parted,
and he took her mouth in a kiss of such tender possession, she felt as if she
was sinking beneath a wave of the most exquisite pleasure. Wanting more, she
began to return the pressure of his mouth, to touch her tongue to his, to
submerge herself in the kiss until she was aware of nothing else. When he
lifted his head to press his lips to the tender spot below her ear, she made a
tiny sound of protest.

“I know,
sweetheart, but just kissing you is enough to take me too close to the edge.
And there is so much more I want to show you.” He kissed her throat, nudging
aside the neck of her gown, and her protest became a hum of pleasure. She tried
to move closer, needing to feel his body pressed to hers as she’d done when he
had kissed her in Martin’s shop, but the confines of the chair defeated her.

“Sssh,” he
soothed as she shifted restlessly. She felt the surge of power in him as he
rose with her in his arms and shivered with nerves and excitement. He carried
her to the bed and set her gently on her feet beside it. “’Twill be better
without our clothes in the way,” he said, beginning to unfasten her girdle. He
tossed it aside, and gathered the folds of her gown to lift it over her head.

Annith
hesitated, then raised her arms to aid him. She had to trust him, she told
herself as her gown went the way of her girdle, but she couldn’t suppress the
blush that rose to her face when he traced the low neckline of her shift with
one finger. Heat bloomed where he touched; the tips of her breasts tingled. She
felt a sudden need for him to slip his finger beneath her shift and touch her
there, and her eyes blinked wide at the thought.

His eyes were
narrowed, focused intently on her face as if he knew exactly what was going
through her mind. He reached out and gently cupped her breasts in his hands,
but even as she gasped at the thrill that arrowed through her, he released her
and whipped his tunic over his head. His undershirt followed. He tossed the garments
aside and reached for her.

Annith’s lips
parted as she looked up at him. He was beautiful, a magnificent male in the
prime of his life, the strength she had felt now visible in the sleek muscles
of his arms and shoulders. A triangle of dark hair covered his broad chest,
arrowing down past the hard bands of muscle across his stomach to disappear
beneath his chausses.

Fascinated by
the size and power of him, she touched him with questing fingertips. “You’re so
warm, so strong,” she breathed.

He made a low
sound in his throat and his fingers flexed around her waist. “Aye, touch me,
darling. I’ve been tormenting myself for days, wondering how your hands would
feel on me.”

“You have?” She
moved closer, drawn irresistibly by the lure of his intense masculinity. Her
arms went around him and she flattened her hands against his back, savoring the
power there. He was so hard, she thought in wonder. So different to her own
softer, smaller frame. The contrast between them enthralled her, she could have
stood there forever, letting his warmth flow over her while her body began to
soften, to ache with an unfamiliar need for something—more.

His body was
changing, too, she realized on a startled breath, as he slid one hand down to
her hips and drew her closer.

“Hugh?”

“What is it,
sweetheart?” he asked gently.

“I do want you
to show me what happens between husband and wife,” she said against his chest.
“But…will you tell me, first? Then I’ll know what to expect.”

Hugh shut his
eyes for a moment while he fought for control. He was already rigid with the
effort it took not to press Annith against his aching flesh. He didn’t dare
think about stripping her naked, laying her down and sinking himself into the
soft depths of her body. And she wanted him to tell her about it?

He took a deep
breath and tried to find words she would understand. “Do you remember during
the marriage service Father Robert said man and wife become one?”

She nodded
against him.

“When we make
love, sweetheart, our bodies will join, become one. But before that happens you
need to be ready for me.”

She looked up at
that, her eyes wide, but with curiosity, he saw, not fear. “How will we become
one?”

Now he did have
to draw her closer, lifting her so his swollen shaft nudged the soft place
between her thighs. “Here,” he said. The word was a groan of almost unbearable
pleasure. He felt her tremble, but even as she made a small sound of
uncertainty, he cupped one softly rounded breast and stroked his thumb over the
tip, and uncertainty became a low moan of surrender. “Aye, that’s it,
sweetheart. Let me touch you. Let me show how it’s going to be between us.”

“Hugh.” Her
breath fractured as he continued to stroke her. “This is…beyond anything.”

He took a
tighter grip on his control. “Aye, it will be.”

“Is this… Ohhhh.
I’m sure ’tis shameless of me to allow such caresses, but I do so love your
hands on me.”

He groaned.
“Keep talking to me like that, sweetheart, and this is going to be over before
it starts.”

Annith started to
ask why, but Hugh brought his mouth down on hers in a kiss of such fierce
urgency, all the strength went out of her legs. The last of the nuns’ lectures
on shamelessness winked out of existence. Even if they hadn’t, the torrent of
male need washing over her was enough to drown out an entire chorus of
disapproving voices. She had to cling to his shoulders to stay upright, and as
though sensing that she could barely stand, he broke off the kiss, picked her
up, and laid her on the bed.

She watched him
as though in a dream as he removed her leather shoes, then sat on the edge of
the bed to take off his boots. By the time the second boot hit the floor, he
had stripped off his chausses and was lying beside her, the breadth of his
shoulders blocking the light from the fire as he leaned over her.

She looked up at
him, some of her dream-like state evaporating. He had moved too quickly for her
to see what had caused the intriguing hardness that had made her want to
retreat and yet soften against it, but lying with him like this, he seemed even
bigger. She was abruptly aware of a very feminine vulnerability. When he began
unlacing her shift, she brought her hands up to cover his before she could stop
herself.

“’Tis all right,
sweetheart,” he murmured. “I know you’re shy, but you’ll like me touching you,
I promise. And if I do anything you don’t like, you only have to tell me and
I’ll stop.”

“What
are
you going to do?” she whispered.

His smile was so
tender it took her breath away. “First, I’m going to look at you,” he said.
“Then I’m going to touch you all over, and I want you to touch me. I want my
mouth on you, everywhere. And then I want to be inside you, and though you may
not think so now, my innocent darling, by the time we get to that point you’ll
want it too.”

Her eyes had
grown wider as he spoke, but he could also feel the quickening beat of her
heart, hear the rapid little breaths she took, and knew arousal was beginning
to overcome nervousness.

“Let me touch
you,” he whispered. He slipped his hand from beneath hers as he spoke,
continuing to undo the laces until the opening of her shift parted to reveal
the inner curves of her breasts.

She gasped when
he slid his fingers beneath the garment to open it fully. Then cried out at the
feel of his hand on her bare flesh. And suddenly gentleness wasn’t enough; she
covered his hand with hers again, but this time to press him closer, to feel
the heat that streamed from her breasts straight to the place where they would
join.

“You’re so
beautiful,” he said, his voice suddenly rough with a note that had her
trembling. “So soft and delicate.” He continued caressing her, stroking the
budding tips of her breasts until she thought she wouldn’t be able to bear any
more. “Look at you,” he whispered. “You respond so beautifully to me. Your
nipples are like little berries just waiting to be tasted.”

Annith was sure
she was blushing wildly at his words, but it no longer mattered. The thought of
Hugh’s mouth on her sensitized breasts was so arousing she arched wildly in
reaction. He took her offering instantly, his mouth closing hotly over one
small peak, laving it with his tongue before closing his teeth around it with
exquisite care.

She almost lost
consciousness under the torrent of pleasure that swept over her. He turned his
attention to her other breast, continuing the delicious torment until the flesh
between her legs was pulsing in counterpoint, aching with an emptiness she
didn’t know how to assuage.

“Hugh,” she
cried. “I want—”

“I know what you
want,” he said in a low growl. “I want it, too, sweetheart.” With one swift
movement, he swept her shift down and off, leaving her naked to his gaze. He
flattened his hand on her stomach in an act of sheer possession, just above the
soft curls shielding her most vulnerable flesh.

Annith shivered
in unbearable anticipation, her toes curling in reaction to the unleashed
desire glittering in his eyes as he looked at her feminine secrets. No woman,
even one as inexperienced as she was, could mistake that look of arousal. His
face was hard with the purpose of a man about to take his woman.

He moved his
hand lower, sliding his fingers between her legs and stealing her breath. She
gasped, her thighs clamping together in an involuntary reflex that only succeeded
in pressing his hand more tightly to her. She felt as though she was melting
where he touched, hovering on the brink of something indescribable and helpless
to stop it.

She cried out,
trying to retreat from sensations that threatened to engulf her, and he lowered
his head to kiss her. “Hush,” he whispered. “Don’t be afraid, darling. I’ll be
so gentle with you. There’ll be nothing but pleasure, I swear it.”

Hugh felt the
muscles in her legs quivering as she fought her natural reaction to the
intimacy of his touch. Then, with a helpless little cry, her tension eased and
he was able to retreat a little, caressing her lightly, until she relaxed and
desire began building again.

Still he took it
slowly, and was rewarded when every shocked little gasp was followed by moans
of pleasure, until the cries coming from her throat were those of imperative
feminine demand. Her response overwhelmed him, humbled him. She was utterly
open now, caution and shyness forgotten. And because she was so innocent, so
unknowing, because she trusted him, she had no fear. He knew he could do
anything, and she would accept it.

Tenderness swept
through him at the thought, leashing the ravenous need to plunder the sweet
secrets of her body as nothing else could. He had been given a gift beyond
price, and the responsibility for opening up the world of womanhood to her was
immense. He wanted this first time to be perfect for her.

He slid one
finger into her, controlling her instinctive jolt with the weight of his body.
“’Tis all right, darling,” he murmured. “This is how it’s meant to be. I want
you to need me until you can’t think of anything else.” He kept talking to her,
words of reassurance and demand, scarcely aware of what he was saying, and this
time there was no drawing back. Her complete surrender to his touch threatened
to rip his control to shreds. He felt her melt around his invading finger, felt
the gossamer thin barrier of her maidenhead and knew, with relief, he wouldn’t
have to hurt her.

And he also knew
he couldn’t wait a second longer. She was soft and wet, writhing beneath him,
aware of nothing except the overwhelming need for release. He withdrew his
finger and she sank her little nails into his back in a protest that nearly
finished it for him then and there. He moved her legs further apart and lifted
himself over her, slowly letting her get used to his weight. She clung to him,
her lovely eyes dazed with passion, but widening with sudden awareness as he
began to enter her.