wcEND.rtf (23 page)

Isabel thought that after making love this afternoon the
h
ungry edge would disappear from their lovemaking, but Hunter kissed her like there would be no tomorrow for them, and Isabel kissed him back knowing there wouldn't be.

She circled her arms around his neck and her hands entwined in his soft hair while their bodies melded together. Hunter introduced a leg between her thighs
,
and Isabel rubbed herself against the rough skin of his hair-covered thigh. Wild sensations shot from that point of contact and spread throughout her body, weakening her limbs, numbing her mind, and freeing her heart. Hunter's arousal nestled against her belly, hot, hard, and insistent.

He pressed against her as his hand reached behind her, between the cleft of her buttocks. As his mouth worked his magic on the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder he inserted a finger inside of her, finding her wet and ready for him.

"Deus!"
he cried, picking her up and shifting her legs around his hips. "You shall be the death of me,
l
ady." And with that he entered her with one swift thrust.

Isabel moaned, locking her
l
egs behind his back and clasping her hands together behind his neck for support. Hunter stood still for a moment, eyes closed, one arm around her waist, one hand beneath her buttocks, deeply and firmly buried inside of her.

And as they kisse
d
—
a
tongue-dueling, lip
-
suckling
,
ravenous kis
s
—
H
unter stumbled backward, a step or two, until his back rested against the wall. Isabel unlocked her
legs from behind his back, opening herself to him as her knees almost touched the wa
l
l behind Hunter. He bent his knees a little, arching against her, and began to thrust in earnest. No shallow, slow motion here, no teasing and withdrawing, but hard, deep thrusts, betraying the hunger they both felt and that should
'
ve been already appeased.

Isabel's orgasm came so swiftly, so intensely, her cries drowned out Hunter's moans of release.

Afterward he held her in his arms until their trembling subsided and they caught their breaths. Slowly, Hunter lowered her to her feet and, spent, she collapsed against his body, her head lying against his chest, listening to the wild beating of his heart.

He had done it again. Had turned her into putty in his hands. It was a wonder Isabel had resisted him this long. And yet she'd promised herself to give him a night to remember, and that she would still do.

As soon as she caught her breath, that is.

******************

HUNTER'S BUTTOCKS WERE GETTING COLD AGAINST the stone wall, but he dared not move lest he disturb
Détra
, who lay against him in languid abandon.

He had forgotten himself and taken his lady wife standing up against a wall, like a common courtesan, yet had it cost him his life he could not have reached the bed, so urgent was his need for her.

Fervently hoping she would not be vexed with him, Hunter kissed the top of her head. "It is most rare," he said into the perfumed curls of her hair, "that a man and his lady wife should share such wondrous
l
ovemaking."

She pushed herself gently away from him, then looked up at him. There was an undefined sadness in her gaze. Did she disagree? Was it not wondrous to her?

"Most rare, indeed,"
she said, then, in unabashed na
kedness, she ambled to the table where she poured water into a bowl, then immersed a square of cloth inside. She wrung it almost dry, then returned to him to gently rinse his body as he had done to her in his chamber in the garrison's quarters. He barely felt the sting of the cold water on his hot skin, entranced as he was in following the motion of her hands.

"Détra," he said in mild protest, bewildered at her gentle care.

"What you do for me," she said,
"I
reserve the right to do the same for you."

Hunter would not gainsay her. Not in this matter, anyway.

When she finished, she returned to the table, rinsed the cloth, and with her back to him did her own ablutions. For a brief moment Hunter wished to cut her glorious hair short, for it fell below her buttocks, covering the wondrous sight from his view.

Then he occupied himself with feeding more logs to the hearth and extinguishing the fire in the candles and oil lamps. Finally he strolled to her, and lifting Détra in his arms, carried her to their bed.

He lay her down, climbed in, and let the curtains fall. They were now protected from co
l
d drafts in the warm cocoon of pillows and furs and their bodies.

I
n
th
e se
m
idarkness Hunter gathered Détra in his arms. He had never dreamed their coming together would be this wondrous, suddenly realizing how appropriate a name lovemaking was for the carnal act of joining two bodies and two souls.

For after having been inside his lady wife's body this night
.
Hunter felt part of her soul. And he would never let her go.

There was no mistaking her passion, her wanting of him, and the mere remembrance of her touch brought the
fire of desire burning anew inside him. He had waited so long to make her his, had longed for her for such a very long time, he could not get enough of being with her. He would offer no apologies for wanting his wife. Dismissing the dark cloud hovering above him that was her forgotten memories, Hunter secretly hoped they would never return.

He was surprised anew when Détra pushed him back onto the mattress. "It is my turn now," she said, licking her lips as if about to savor the greatest delicacy in the kingdom.
Deus!
And she was looking at him.

She kissed him teasingl
y
—
w
ith her lips and tongue, suckling and soothing, seeking and withdrawing while her fingertips traced a path down his chest, bypassing his eager cock, down his groin and inner thighs, only to start upward again.

Hunter's breathing quickened in eager expectation.

Détra lifted her lips from his, then playfully bit his chin, the stubble of beard probably scraping her tongue. She did not seem to mind. She traced her tongue down his throat and chest, kissed and sucked each of his nipple
s
—
n
o woman had ever done that to him befor
e
—
t
hen darted her tongue inside his navel. She lifted, settling between his thighs, raking her long, glorious hair over his chest. The soft curls teasing him as sensually as her fingers had done before.

And when she strayed down his groin, and licked the very tip of his eager cock, Hunter leapt.

"You need not do this." His husky voice was barely audible to him. Had she heard him?

She lifted her head, pulling her hair away, and gazed at him. "I want to do this, Hunter," she whispered, fanning his wet skin with her hot breath. "This and more."

Deus! She would be the death of him!

Why should he not allow it? Why should he not revel in suc
h
an intimate touch? He relaxed his hold of her hair
as his head tell back against the mattress. Isabel took him in her mouth, not the whole of him, just the sensitive tip, alternating between sucking it and licking it. Hunter's breathing stopped, his body trembled, and his mind muddled as his arousal grew. And when she gathered his balls and rubbed them tenderly as she continued to take him in her mouth, he thought he would die.

"Enough," he cried, finding strength to lift her and roll over on top of her.

"I was so enjoying it," she said in that teasing tone he would never have related to Détra.

"So was I, my lady wife," he whispered against her ear as he settled between her thighs. "So was I."

He kissed her neck, realizing how much she enjoyed that simple caress, as she craned it to give him full access. And when she began writhing beneath him, he took her mouth, realizing how much he loved kissing her. After tasting Détra he would never taste another woman again.

He found his way instinctively into her damp and hot entrance and he thrust deeply. He meant to take it slowly this time, but
Détra
lifted her thighs, placing her knees against his chest, making him reach deeper than he ever had before. He had to hold still for a moment to stop the crescendo of pleasure already building inside of him, not understanding how he had gotten so aroused so fast, so soon after he had already spilled his seed.

He pulled her legs down against the mattress, holding on to her thighs, taking control of his thrusts. Shallow, slow thrusts that made
Détra
writhe underneath him until he lost control again, and as her knees rose he thrust deep inside of her, fast and eager. He was vindicated, though, when her cry of release came moments before his own reverberated on the walls of the bedchamber.

* *
*

ISABEL OPENED HER EYES AND IN A FLASH SITUA
TE
D herself. She sought Hunter with her gaze and found hi
m
out of the bed, already dressed, and kneeling down at the kneeler by the window in silent contemplation. Through the opaque bed curtains she watched him as her heart tightened in her chest. Very soon he would be gone, and so would she. And her life would never be the same again.

Hunter made the sign of the cross, then rose to his feet, obviously finished with his prayers. He looked her way and Isabel rose on the bed, then sat on its edge, her legs dangling off the mattress through the half-open curtains. Candles and the fire in the fireplace illuminated the room, but through the small gaps on the shuttered window she could see the gray light of dawn.

"Praying for a safe trip?" she asked.

"That and in thanksgiving." He looked at her in such a way that made Isabel think he was thankful for her.

A knot in her throat made speech impossible. Did De-tra know how lucky she was? Isabel jumped to her feet, looking for something to cover her body, finding her chemise lying on the floor where she'd left it last night. She picked it up, dusted it, and then pulled it down over her head. "When do you leave?" she asked, pivoting, wanting to etch in her mind his handsome face.

He came to her and kissed her
l
ips gently, and she savored the brief taste of him even after their lips separated.

"We
leave as soon as you dress and break your fast, my lady wife."

"We?" Isabel stumbled back. "What do you mean, we? I thought you were going alone."

"I decided you should accompany me.
"
He pulled her back into his embrace. "After last night how can I be without you for long?"

Isabel's heart began an anxious beat. There was no way
she'd go with him. She couldn't prolong this situation any longer. Her fantasy night was over and the reality of the dawning day was upon her.

"You told me you would be gone for only a few days," she said, once again disengaging from his arms and moving closer to the kneeler. She wanted to add she'd be here waiting for him when he returned, but didn't. She wouldn't be here; Détra would. "Besides," she said, "I thought you were in a hurry. I would only slow you down."

His inscrutable dark eyes settled on hers. "I go nowhere without you, Détra."

Isabel wracked her brain looking for a good excuse not to accompany him on this trip. She couldn't possibly spend any more time with Hunter; she was already too emotionally involved with him. What would happen to her sanity if she continued to play the happy wife? She was already dangerously close to losing herself in Détra's life.

She didn't want Détra's life! Her mind rebelled. She didn't want to live in the Middle Ages, in a castle filled with people dependent on her, doing chores she knew nothing or cared nothing about. She wanted her life, her freedom, and her painting back.

Oh, but she wanted Hunter, too, and that truth couldn't be denied.

But wanting him didn't mean she could forget that he belonged to this time, to this castle and people, and above all to Détra.

More than ever she needed to undo her mistake.

"I would rather not go," she pleaded. "I do not feel strong enough for such a long trip." That was a joke! She'd been strong enough to make love to Hunter time and time again last night.