Stefan and the King were late for the feast. They had been busy meeting with the ealdormen of the neighbouring burghs, trying to rally support should Lord Manvil’s army attack. There had been rumours that his force was on the move and all the settlements between Wintancaester and Eastbury had been warned.
Stefan thought about Ædwen. He struggled to reconcile how such an evil man, a man who had killed his family, had produced such a beautiful daughter. A woman he struggled to keep his hands off, despite knowing what blood she had flowing through her veins.
He had been livid with her earlier, after the market, when she had questioned their marriage again and when she had threatened to leave him. His anger had transmuted into desire and he had wanted to lift her skirts, wrap her legs around his waist and thrust into her. Hard. He had wanted to claim her again, at long last, and show her he was her husband. That she belonged to him. And that she would never be able to escape him.
He couldn’t understand why she kept fighting him on it. Why was she trying to find fault with everything? Why was she trying to get away from him—like Dania—when he had never wanted another woman other than her?
But he knew if she was going to leave him, he couldn’t let her go without having her first. Tonight.
When they entered the hall, he saw her, sat at the table they’d been seated at last night, surrounded by his men. Dressed in the new garments he had bought her, she looked stunning. And he wished he had chosen something less striking, for the soldiers were all fawning over her, leaning in to speak to her, and she laughed shyly at something one of them said.
Jealousy seared through him.
All evening, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her rising out of the water, like some goddess, her swollen breasts and hardened peaks tempting him to touch her, everywhere. When he’d come up behind her in the water, she’d come alive under his exploring fingers. She’d pressed herself against him as if to prove she wanted him and writhed against him as if she needed satisfaction... And he’d wanted to give it to her. He’d never wanted anything so much.
When he’d seen her sprawled naked beneath him on the steps, the water lapping at her thighs, he had known he wanted to taste her with his tongue. It had been intimate, a private moment between them, and he had never wanted it to end. But now he wanted to take her body with his own. He couldn’t wait much longer.
As he stalked towards her, her eyes rose to meet him and her cheeks flushed.
The men caught the look between them and instantly moved back, making room for him, knowing she was his.
‘You’re not wearing your wimple,’ he bit out, as he lowered himself down beside her.
‘No, I’m following the fashions of the Queen.’
‘But how will people know you’re taken?’
‘Luckily, I have your ring.’ She smiled sweetly.
The atmosphere in the room was different tonight. The voices more shrill, as if they were all aware an army was looming, heading their way. He felt tense, or was that just because he knew that tonight he and Ædwen had a date with destiny?
‘How long do you think we have, before the army from Eastbury arrives?’ one of his men asked, from the other side of the table.
He felt Ædwen tense beside him.
‘We think they’ll be here within the week.’
She swung to look at him. As if she had no idea. He wasn’t surprised. He had tried to keep it from her, knowing she would worry, knowing she would feel responsible.
But she had to know this would have happened whether he’d come to fetch her or not. This was who her father was.
She barely spoke to him for the rest of the meal, until the King and Queen retired and the men and women began to leave the room. Finally, during a quiet moment, she turned on him, her tone accusatory. ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’ she said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me my father was on his way?’
‘Because I didn’t want you to worry.’
‘You accuse me of keeping secrets from you, but then you do the same! When will they be here? And what does he want?’
‘To kill me, I expect,’ he said wryly. ‘And to claim you back. But his greater goal has always been the crown. To rid the English throne of a Danish king.’
‘Surely he’s not that ambitious?’
‘Do you not know him at all?’ he accused.
‘No, obviously I don’t,’ she said, standing suddenly and going to leave the table.
He stood to meet her, gripping her arm. ‘Going somewhere?’ he asked.
She swallowed. ‘Yes, I want to go to bed,’ she said, dragging a hand over her face.
‘Is that an invite?’ He smirked.
And she looked up at him, wary.
He relented, deciding to go easy on her. ‘Tired?’ he asked and she nodded.
He wondered if she was afraid. After all, this shimmering thing between them was pretty terrifying. It was a big step to take, to sate themselves in each other’s bodies, after the hurt they’d both suffered at each other’s hands before. Hell, she’d broken him. Completely destroyed him. Could he really survive her a second time?
Yet what choice did they have? This burning need only had one cure.
He took her hand in his. ‘Come on, let’s get you back,’ he said.
They walked in silence through the palace, his fingers wrapped around hers, and when they reached the corridor that led back to his rooms, he stalled.
‘Shall I go and fetch Ellan?’ he asked. He was giving her time. Time to make her decision. He told himself if she said yes, he would just have to be patient.
But when she slowly shook her head, drawing her lip between her teeth, his heart began to clamour.
He didn’t recall unlocking the door, or ushering her inside his room. He was only aware of the door closing, shutting the rest of the world out, and in one swift movement he swung her round, backing her up against the door, his tongue stealing its way inside her mouth again, and she groaned. It was a powerful, lingering kiss, and one that conveyed their desire. What they both knew was going to happen. What they needed from each other. Every moment seemed to have led to this.
Ædwen’s head tipped back and Stefan took the opportunity to move his mouth down the column of her throat, leaving a hot trail of kisses across her skin and over her collarbone.
She pulled away slightly, her eyes bright, her cheeks flushed, and for a heart-stopping moment he thought she was going to stall him.
But instead, she reached for him, placing her hand on his chest. ‘How do I take this off?’ she said, running her hands over the thick material of his mail coat.
His pulse started up again at double the pace. Lust licked his groin. She wanted this, just as much as him. He took a step away from her and put his hand to his top button, undoing it and the next, peeling the chainmail off him and discarding it on the floor.
She came back towards him, tugging at his tunic, pulling it out of his breeches and up, over his head. Bare-chested, he caught her against him again, trapping her hands between them, and her fingers spread out across his skin, as she looked at him in wonder. His lips came back to hers, finding the trail he’d left before. She arched her throat and his tongue swirled over the top swells of her breasts.
‘You’re wearing too many clothes, Ædwen. I need to see you. To kiss you. Everywhere,’ he said, his voice hoarse. And his trembling hands came down to loosen the brooches at the base of her pinafore straps, letting them fall, the material pooling at her feet. It was so beautiful, it was a shame to take it off, yet he knew the real treasure lay beneath. Gripping her tunic, sliding it up over her thighs, her waist, he lifted her arms up above her head and pulled it off, then it was gone.
Naked before him, she shivered and he took a step back, looking at her in heated admiration.
‘Stefan,’ she whimpered, pressing her thighs together.
‘What? I’m allowed to look at you. You’re my wife.’
His one hand came up to cup her breast and he loved the feel of her soft, silky skin, the weight of her in his hand, as he gently caressed her in his palm. He dipped his mouth to suckle her rosy tip and she held his head, combing her fingers through his hair, wanting more. His other hand ruthlessly, wickedly, roamed down, threading through her intimate curls, curving over her, his fingers trembling in urgency as he lightly grazed her moist, secret places.
Her knees buckled, her body quivered and he knew she couldn’t take much of that sweet torture.
‘Stefan... I don’t think I can stand,’ she whispered. ‘Please...’
Worried this would all be over too fast, he removed his hand from between her legs and scooped her up, into his arms, and she gave a little yelp as he made his way towards the stairs. When he got to the top, he lowered her down on to the bed and came over her naked body. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. It was finally going to happen, he was finally going to have her. She was back in his bed, beneath him.
He had waited so long for this that, now the moment was here, it felt huge.
‘You want this? You want me?’ he asked. He needed to be sure.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, staring up at him.
It was the only word he’d wanted to hear.
Wrapping one arm around her waist, he lifted her, dragging her upwards on the furs, as he came down on top of her.
She looked up at him, into his eyes, as she reached for the waistband of his breeches. With fumbling fingers, she loosened the tie, the material coming away, and his breath caught at the anticipation of her touch.
‘Your wound,’ she said. ‘Am I hurting you?’
‘It’s so far from my mind right now. Ædwen, touch me.’
She slipped her fingers beneath his breeches to take hold of him, gripping him in her palm, and he groaned, resting his forehead against hers.
He kicked off the material, and carefully lowered himself to the side of her, taking her jaw in his hand and bringing her face to his, kissing her, passionately.
His fingers trailed over her body, exploring her, over her thrusting swollen breasts, circling the pebble-hard peaks, which were darker now than they had been before. They were a beautiful plum colour and they looked good enough to eat. He lowered his head to take one in his mouth, tugging it between his teeth, testing, teasing her, dragging his tongue playfully around the tip, and she writhed beneath him.
His palms flattened over her stomach, and down, parting her thighs again, and he touched her with precision, finding her soaking, rolling her little nub beneath his fingers, and she whimpered, spreading her legs wider, letting him push his fingers inside her. He loved that she grew wetter with desire for him.
Her head tipped back on the furs and, by the sounds of her soft sighs, he knew she was close. And so was he. He’d overestimated his control and he wasn’t even inside her yet.
She squeezed him harder in her hand, moving her fingers up and down the length of him, and he wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take.
‘Ædwen, stop,’ he said, in whispered torment. ‘You’ve made me wait too long for fulfilment. If you carry on, this will be over before I’ve even got started. And there’s so much I want to do to you...’
He reared over her body, moving his knees between her thighs, pushing her legs wide apart, and she looked up at him, wrapping her hands around his neck, bringing him down towards her.
‘I want to take you every which way. And I want to make you sore, so you know where I’ve been. I want you to feel branded by my touch. And I want you begging for more...’
He brought his hand down between their bodies, taking his shaft in his hand, tilting himself towards her, gliding it along her crease, opening her up to him. He was straining against her entrance. And he felt hot, feverish. He could feel her heartbeat thudding against his chest, or was that his? And all he could think was he was about to take possession of her again. At last.
With an intensity Ædwen wasn’t expecting, Stefan entered her, piercing her flesh with one smooth thrust, and she cried out in pleasure at the breach, burying her head in his shoulder. He felt huge, even better than she remembered.
He captured her hands in his, holding them above her head, forcing her to look at him, as he stared down at her.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You feel good. I’d forgotten how good.’
She could not hold back. Not now. He must not know she was afraid. It would make her vulnerable.
‘Forgotten? Then I’d better make this a night you’ll never forget.’ He grinned.
He thrust again, deeper, penetrating her body fully with his. Her head tipped back and he bent his mouth to her neck, covering her skin in open-mouthed kisses.
She writhed beneath him, bringing her legs up to wrap around his hips, allowing him to sink deeper, and he groaned against her throat. Their bodies pressed against each other, slick with sweat. He surged inside her, seeking, needing greater satisfaction, all that she could give.
Her arms came up to his shoulders, clinging on for support. Her breath quickened against his neck, her fingers clinging on to him for dear life, and he began to move faster, harder. He was in so deep it was as if they were joined, like one.
As he stormed her, over and over again, she screamed in feverish, panting pleasure, thrashing about wildly beneath him. She felt a swell of emotion bloom within and, as his mouth came down on hers, kissing her fiercely on the lips, their tongues meshing, her powerful climax took over. Shudders of contentment racked her body and, as he pulled out of her, he roared out his own intense release.
Ædwen lay there, underneath him, trying to get her breathing back to normal. Her thoughts were splintered. It had been incredible. Passionate. All she could have wished for and more. Yet...he had pulled out at the last moment.
He had said he would not take her until he could have the whole of her. And she had surrendered her whole self, uninhibited. But despite his anger, his urgent need, he had been more controlled. Careful.
Did that mean he hadn’t lost enough of himself to come apart inside her? And ridiculously, she felt a lump grow in her throat.
In the moment, she hadn’t even thought of the consequences of their actions. Again. She had just wanted...and she would have let him do anything to her. But he had remembered. He had been cautious.
But wasn’t that a good thing? She should be glad that one of them had been sensible enough to think about the repercussions of their lovemaking. They certainly weren’t in a position to have another child. They weren’t even sure of each other.
So why then did it bother her? Was it because like so many other things, they hadn’t discussed it first? Or because she felt as if he’d held a part of himself back, when she’d given him everything?
She didn’t know how long they lay like that, neither of them moving, before finally he shifted, rolling off her on to his side and turning to face her. Through her own half-closed eyes, she could see him watching her from underneath his lashes, his large, possessive hand cradling her breast. It felt like real intimacy, but was it?
Was he as shaken as she was by the intensity of what had just happened?
‘Are you all right?’ he asked finally, his voice gravelly and warm.
She nodded, tears threatening. She didn’t know what was the matter with her. She felt overwhelmed. By him? With her feelings?
How had she let this happen? She had told herself she would not allow herself to be seduced by him again. She had been determined to protect herself. Yet who was she fooling? She had been ecstatic the instant he had walked into that church, back into her life.
Be honest, a little voice inside her head mocked her. You wanted this to happen from the start.
And perhaps that was true.
But lying here, in his arms now, she wondered if it was really possible for them both to move past what had happened before. She wasn’t sure, especially if he refused to even talk about it.
She went to sit up, to get away, but he gripped her hand, fast, tussling with her, pinning her back down on the bed, clamping her hands down above her head.
‘Don’t even think about leaving. Not after what we just did.’
‘Stefan...’
‘What?’
She relented and he loosened his grip on her a little.
‘Where do you want to go? I told you... I want you every which way. I haven’t finished with you yet.’
Their eyes connected, blue on blue.
And his mouth met her lips, his legs entwining with hers, his body coming over her again, and when he lifted his head, her breathing was unsteady once more.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ she said, shaking her head on the furs, her mouth pressed together.
‘Then why are you so eager to get away from me?’
‘I’m not.’
‘Good. Because just as soon as I get my breath back, we’re going to do that again. And again. And again,’ he said, kissing her on her lips, her jaw. ‘Does that sound all right to you?’
He dipped his head to the curve of her neck and his mouth went in hot pursuit of her breasts, kissing over her chest, and she moaned as he lathered her nipples with his tongue, until they were swollen peaks once more. He looked up at her, smiling.
‘Did you enjoy it, Ædwen?’
She knew he was fishing, perhaps needing some kind of praise, to know he had pleased her, as she hadn’t said anything about his performance, but she suddenly felt the need to protect herself. To act as if he hadn’t just rocked her world. ‘Did you?’
He grinned. ‘It’s never been better. It was perfect, in fact.’
That appeased her a little. Only, how could it have been that good if they hadn’t made it together, right at the end?
‘You didn’t finish properly,’ she blurted, not meaning it to sound as accusatory as it came out, but unable to keep it in.
His brow furrowed. ‘Believe me, I did,’ he said.
‘Not inside me.’
He lifted himself away from her a little. ‘That would have been reckless.’
She knew he was right, so why had it upset her so much? She turned her face to the side, looking away from him. Was it because he’d made that decision without telling her? That he hadn’t surrendered wholeheartedly to her, as she had to him. And she wondered...did it have something to do with the fact he still didn’t trust her?
He pulled away, sitting up on his knees.
‘I thought it was for the best... I thought you’d agree,’ he said.
She shrugged, not meeting his eye, suddenly feeling exposed, lying there naked, him looking down at her. He seemed so at ease, his magnificent, powerful body on show for her to look at.
‘I do. It just...it felt cold.’
‘Cold?’ he asked, incredulous. ‘What we just did felt cold?’
She couldn’t help but smile at that. ‘No...’
‘I was going to say...it doesn’t get much hotter than that, Ædwen.’
Ædwen’s face was beautifully flushed and he gripped her hand, pulling her upwards so she sat in front of him, and Stefan raised his hand, his knuckles grazing over her cheek. Then he leaned in and kissed her, tenderly.
It had been amazing, being inside her again. She was everything he’d ever wanted.
He wondered at the hold she had over him. He’d felt it from that very first day on the beach. He had always wanted to be near her, close to her, inside her—and it was so much easier to give into it than to fight it.
It had been so intense, he’d felt as if he was soaring, his pleasure immense. He’d had to fight for control at the end. Her body had shuddered with pleasure, and she’d cried out against his shoulder, the same wonderment in her eyes that he knew was shining out of his own, yet he couldn’t believe that she’d called him cold! Had he ruined it, hurt her, by pulling out at the end? That hadn’t been his intention.
He just didn’t think she’d thank him if he got her with child again.
He’d just have to make it up to her the next time. Because there would be a next time. He intended to make love to her again now. And all night long.
He kissed her intimately, caressing her tongue with his own, before he lifted her up by her bottom, as if she didn’t weigh a thing, and as she wrapped her legs around his waist, he lowered her down on to his newly straining shaft, easing inside her again, her intimate muscles clenching around him.
‘Oh,’ she gasped.
She sank further down on top of him, taking him in to the hilt, and he groaned, resting his forehead against hers.
‘Open your eyes,’ he whispered.
And as he began to make love to her again, sliding deeply in and out of her, their eyes stayed connected. He couldn’t get over how well they fit together, as if she were made for him. His mouth clung to hers, their ragged breaths mingled, but he was determined to take this time with her, setting a torturously slow, unhurried pace, wanting to savour every long, deliberate stroke and make it last.
His fingers held her buttocks tight, so there was no escape from his erotic onslaught, and he watched her eyes dilate as she threw her head back and cried out helplessly as her climax took over. His own orgasm came thick and fast, and felt explosive, as he erupted on to the creamy skin of her thigh.
He gently lifted her off him and leaned back against the wall, pulling her with him, so her head was resting on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, and he caressed the soft skin on her arm. It took a while for his body to stop trembling, his heart pounding beneath her fingers.
‘Still cold?’ he asked.
‘Not so much... I was prepared that time,’ she said, her hands tracing the lines of ink on his body.
When she’d got her breath back, she looked up at him. ‘Stefan, why didn’t you take another woman while we were apart?’ she asked. ‘You must have had needs...’
He shifted beneath her, coming down the bed a little.
‘I told you. I take my vows seriously...’ Then he relented. ‘I wasn’t able to think of another woman like that. Like you.’
And he never would. He hadn’t wanted anyone but her. Even though they’d parted ways, even though it had ended badly. In spite of it all...
‘Today has been a good day,’ he said. ‘Did you enjoy it?’ he probed again.
‘Yes,’ she said shyly.
‘Which was your favourite part?’
‘I think it would have to be the lemon pastry.’ She smiled, teasing him, and he laughed.
But all of a sudden there was the noise of men bellowing down the corridor, a commotion, coming closer, and Stefan’s whole body tensed.
Like lightning, he was up, out of her arms and pulling on his clothes.
‘What is it?’ Ædwen gasped, her eyes wide.
‘I don’t know. Something’s happening. I’ll be needed. I want you to stay here. Stay inside. Lock the door behind me. Do you understand?’
But his heart pounded in his chest. Ellan...