Master of Desire (24 page)

He kissed her, then separated her thighs with his knee. Emily moaned at the feeling of his hard thigh pressing against the part of her that ached for him, and instinctively she rubbed herself against the hard muscles of his thigh, wringing a deep moan from him.

Her body afire, Emily delighted in the feel of his body completely against hers.

Until he drove himself into her.

She gasped as pain overrode her pleasure. “You lied to me,” she whispered as her body throbbed from the strange fullness of having him inside her. “You said it wouldn't hurt.”

He kissed her cheek tenderly. “'Tis your maidenhead giving way, Emily. I promise once you get used to me, it won't hurt anymore.”

She didn't know if she could believe him. Over and over, she heard her sister's voice warning her of the pain.

He lifted her legs up from the floor and had her place them about his waist. He tilted her head up to where he could stare down into her eyes.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

She did.

“If you will suffer me for the next few minutes, I swear to you when you leave here, you won't be afraid.”

“I don't understand.”

“You will.” And then he started moving against her hips.

Emily clenched her teeth, trying not to cry out from the pain of him thrusting inside her.

Draven buried his lips against her throat, hating the way she remained tense.

“Relax,” he breathed in her ear. But she didn't. If anything, his words seemed to distress her more.

He cursed himself for not knowing what to do to alleviate her discomfort, but he'd never before taken a virgin.

With a frustrated curse, he pulled out of her.

Her legs fell to the floor as she took her weight back on her own feet. She didn't say a single word as she retrieved her kirtle from the floor and clutched it to her breasts.

It was then he saw the tears in her eyes.

“Oh, Emily.” He sighed. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“Joanne was right,” she whispered. “It hurts terribly.”

Draven pulled her against him. His body still needed hers, and it was all he could do not to cry out from the pain of his pent-up desire, but he wouldn't hurt her again.

He would never be that selfish.

“It doesn't hurt,” he whispered, then kissed her.

At first she tensed and after several heartbeats she relaxed. Draven breathed a sigh of relief. He would help her through this if it was the last thing he did.

Emily didn't know what to think as he buried his lips against her throat and his tongue returned to work its magic on her flesh.

This felt so delightful, so wondrous.

But with that thought came the knowledge he would enter her again. She cringed at the thought. Wasn't it supposed to be over once a man did that?

Yet the feel of his lips on her was pleasurable enough. If only it didn't lead to the other.

He breathed in her ear and then ran his tongue over her lobe. Dropping her kirtle, Emily moaned in pleasure, then ran her hands over his ribs. Draven pulled back and carried her to the bed.

Still uncertain, she tensed as he laid her upon the rose-scented mattress.

His gaze traveled from the top of her head to her breasts, which burned from the intensity of his look, then down to the juncture of her thighs.

The aching hunger on his face haunted her.

Then, he joined her on the bed.

Like a large, sinewy beast, he crawled up her body and hovered above her. His gaze captured hers as he looked down upon her as if he could devour here where she lay.

Even though he didn't touch her, she could feel the heat from his body.

And then the most wondrous thing of all happened. He looked upon her face and smiled.

Emily's heart leaped at the gesture.

“You have never feared me before,” he whispered roughly. “And by all the saints above you'll not fear me now. Not when I have you as I have dreamed of having you.”

With those words spoken, he dipped his body down in a gentle caress from her head to her toes, then he lifted himself up. She moaned at the feel of his hot flesh touching hers.

He trailed his hands up over her body to her breasts and up to her face to cup it gently, possessively.

“You are mine,” he said fiercely.

“Aye, Draven, I am yours.”

Draven stared at her as he heard the most precious words on earth to him. He could feel her supple form against him as she surrendered herself once more to his touch.

His body burned with need, but having so botched his earlier attempt with her, he made himself move more slowly lest he hurt her again.

The storm of his passion crashed around him, through him, and into him. She would be his, and he would treat her accordingly.

Emily moaned as he deepened his kiss and stroked her breast with his thumb. To her dismay, he left her lips, then nibbled a trail down her cheek to her neck, then up to her ear. She writhed in pleasure as her body shook in response to his tongue as it swirled and darted around the tender flesh.

His warm breath tickled her. “Like that, do you?” he asked.

“Aye,” she breathed.

Then he moved lower with his kisses. To her breasts, her stomach. His whiskers gently scraped her skin as he licked her all over.

Emily closed her eyes and savored the feel of him while he moved to nibble her hip. She was his. She had given herself over to him and she promised herself she wouldn't revoke her body from him ever again.

Even if it did hurt, he meant more to her than any discomfort.

His pleasure would be hers. Now and forever.

She buried her hands in his hair and moaned as he nibbled the sensitive flesh over her hipbone.

He pulled back from her and placed his body between her thighs.

“Draven—”

“Shh,” he whispered against her thigh. “I promise you it won't hurt.”

Reticently, she opened her legs wider and allowed him access to her. He shifted his body, and she tensed, expecting him to enter her again. But he didn't. Instead, he gently parted her tender folds and took her into his mouth.

Emily cried out as sheer pleasure ripped through her. Never had she felt anything more wondrous than the sensation of his tongue doing the most wicked things imaginable to her body.

Her head spun.

Relentlessly, he teased her with his tongue, his breath, his whiskers, making her body hotter and hotter, her pleasure greater and greater.

And to think she had been fearful of pain!

She reached down and buried her hands in his hair, and still he pleased her. Her rapture mounted until she was sure she'd perish from it, and just as she was certain she would, her ravishment coalesced into something so profound and deep that it felt as if her very body was being ripped asunder by pure ecstasy.

Throwing her head back, she cried out in release as her entire body shook from a force unimaginable.

Her body still quivering, Draven crawled up her and then slid back inside her with one strong, masterful stroke. She moaned at the foreign sensation of him deep inside her.

There was no pain this time, only a sense of fullness.

An overwhelming sense of completeness.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

“Aye,” she breathed, wrapping her body around his.

Draven closed his eyes to better savor the feel of her.

Relieved he wasn't hurting her, he moved slowly against her hips, delighting in the tight heat of her around him. Her sighs of pleasure thrilled him, and when she began to move her hips against his, he feared he might very well perish from it.

She dug her nails into his back as he buried himself deep inside her again and again. Over and over while her hands and moans urged him on.

And when his release came, he thought he'd go blind from it.

Emily smiled as she felt him shudder and collapse on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and just enjoyed the feel of his skin against hers. The feel of him still inside her. Oh, but his weight felt so good on her. She never wanted him to leave.

For the longest time he didn't move, but simply lay there until she feared he had fallen asleep.

Draven clutched the golden strands splayed across the pillows in his fist. He could feel her chest rise and fall against his as she breathed easily.

If he could, he would make this moment last forever.

But sooner or later, they would have to leave the room, and then…

He closed his eyes and sighed.

“I am going to die for this,” he whispered, not realizing he had spoken aloud until he felt Emily move.

“You are being overly dramatic.”

Nay, he wasn't. He knew Henry well. There was nothing or no one the king valued over his laws. Since the day he'd ascended the throne, Henry had fought for peace in his kingdom, and with what Draven had done this day, her father would not be appeased until he was dead.

She pulled back to look at him. “If you married me—”

“Marry how?” he asked as he rolled off her. “What priest would dare marry us without your father's approval?”

“People marry in secret every day.”

“And those marriages are quickly annulled without the guardian's approval. Not to mention my oath to Henry. The king doesn't take betrayal easily.”

“That's not always true,” she argued. “My father recanted his oath to Henry, yet he retains his lands.”

“Your father retains his lands only because your grandfather fought with Henry and died from a blow he received protecting Henry's back. In payment, he asked Henry to swear to him that he would forgive your father and not leave him homeless.”

She blinked as if unsure whether to believe his words. “I never knew that,” she whispered. “How do you know of it?”

“I was there.”

“But you saved the king's life as well,” she insisted. “Will he not forgive you?”

He considered her words. But he knew the truth. Henry would take his betrayal as a personal slight and as such he would react emotionally to it.

Nay, there was no hope for a future.

But unwilling to hurt her, he said quietly, “Perhaps he might.”

All of a sudden, her face lit up and she raised herself to look down at him. “I am the king's ward, correct?”

“Aye.”

“Then as such can he not give permission for my hand?”

“Aye.”

“Then my father would have no choice but to allow our marriage.” Emily smiled and laid her head down on his chest. “All will be fine. You will see. The king shall forgive you, and my father will learn to accept our union.”

Draven stroked her soft hair. What he failed to tell her was Henry's departing words to him.

“Mar her maidenhead, Draven, and we will see you hanged, drawn, and quartered for it. 'Tis our honor you represent. Tarnish it and you
will
suffer the consequences.”

He didn't delude himself for a moment that Henry would forgive him. He knew better. He had known better the moment he swept her up in his arms and carried her to his room. But that hadn't mattered to him. He had wanted her, and so he had taken her.

But his one moment of pleasure with her would come at a high price indeed.

D
raven wanted to spend the rest of the day in her arms, but didn't dare. There were too many people around who could easily get word to her father. Not that he feared for himself; far from it. He had accepted the possibility of dying young the first day he held a sword in his hand.

But he refused to see Emily harmed for his actions.

He left her with a kiss, then dressed and went to find Simon.

And find him, he did. Simon was waiting for him in the hall with a look on his face as if Draven were the angel of death come to claim his unrepentant soul.

“You took her, didn't you?” he asked as soon as Draven drew near.

“Is that not what you wanted?”

Simon looked away sheepishly. “Since when have you ever listened to me?”

“It appears today.”

Anguish contorted Simon's face. “I didn't mean for you to take her like this. I thought you would marry her first. 'Twas my intent. Now what are you to do?”

“She wants me to send word to Henry and ask if he'll sanction a wedding.”

“Will he?”

Draven looked at him. It would do no good to lie, besides he had never done such to his brother. “What think you?”

“Henry can be reasonable at times.”

Draven snorted. “You mean capricious. If I catch him in the right mood, 'tis possible he might forget what he said.”

“And how likely is that?” Simon asked.

Draven heaved a weary sigh. “Not, I'm afraid. He will see my actions as a personal betrayal against him since I am his champion.”

Simon hung his head. “I'm sorry I got you into this.”

“Easy, Simon,” he said, placing a comforting hand on Simon's shoulder. “You didn't get me into this. I did. I knew the repercussions and
I
made the choice.”

Draven smiled at the memory of her in his arms. “If it makes you feel better though, she is well worth it.”

Simon gave him a hard stare. “I hope you can still say that when they're scooping your entrails out and you're still alive to feel it.”

“I've had worse.”

“Such as?”

“The day my heart was ripped out of me. I assure you the king's executioner could never equal the pain I felt the day I saw our mother die.” He stared at the far wall where his father's table had once stood. “I never faced all of it until today. And now…”

“Now?” Simon prompted.

“I can't say 'tis all better, for I still ache, but that hollow part of me has somehow been filled.”

Simon frowned. “What hollow part?”

It suddenly dawned on Draven just what he was saying. It had been years since he shared such confidences with Simon.

What had Emily done to him?

Stiffening at the thought, he looked at Simon drolly. “The hollow part between my ears. Now go and leave me.”

 

Emily went downstairs to wait for Draven, but he never showed himself. The servants had cleaned away the remnants of the dais, and when she had tried to speak with Simon, he had offered a feeble excuse and vanished.

She felt like a pariah as she sat before the burning fire in the darkened hall waiting for Draven's return. One of Draven's hounds sat by her side, and she idly stroked his ears as she stared into the hearth. Most of the castle's occupants had retired, and she wondered if Draven had any intention of returning to the hall this night.

“What are you doing here?”

She jumped at Draven's voice behind her. “Do you never make a sound?” she snapped as her heart pounded.

“I thought you heard my footsteps on the stairs.” He moved to stand behind her chair.

Emily looked up at him over her shoulder. “I would ask what brings you here, but I assume 'tis time for you to start your nightly vigil.”

“Aye.”

She reached up and took his hand. He squeezed hers gently, then lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Warmth filled her at the tender gesture.

He released her hand and fished in his purse for a minute. Emily frowned.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

She did as he commanded. He placed something cold and heavy around her neck. Emily stroked the object with her fingers and knew it for a necklace.

Opening her eyes, she looked down to see the emerald necklace the merchant had tried to talk her into at the fair in Lincoln.

“Draven?” she asked in disbelief.

“I saw the way you looked at it at the fair and I wanted you to have it.”

“But how?”

“I sent Druce for it the night before we left.”

Warmth filled her at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

He nodded.

Emily rose from her seat and kissed him gently on his cheek.

Draven closed his eyes to savor the feel of her lips on his skin.

“Come upstairs with me,” she whispered in his ear.

God help him, but he followed. After all, what did it matter at this point? Henry couldn't hang him twice for the same offense.

Besides, 'twas infinitely better to spend the night in her arms than walking the parapets.

She led him to her room where the fire had burned low in the hearth and a single tallow candle lit the room. It smelled of roses and apples, and the smell instantly warmed him.

Draven stopped in the center of the room and pulled her into his arms. He leaned his face down into the hollow of her throat and inhaled the precious scent that was his Emily.

She cupped his elbows in her hands and nuzzled her head against his neck. Draven swallowed. She had seen him in ways no one ever had. When he looked into her eyes he didn't see the bastard demon born of hell, he saw himself as he wanted to be. Kind, heroic, noble, and most of all lovable.

He touched her lips with his fingertips. “Thank you,” he breathed.

“For what?”

“For seeing the best inside of me.”

She smiled at him. “I only see what is there.”

Not believing it for a minute, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Emily surrendered herself to him with a gentle moan of pleasure.

“I have never seen anything more wondrous than you,” he said softly.

She smiled at him. He enveloped her with his arms and held her close to the heat of his body.

Emily trembled. For some reason, she felt as though she'd come home after a long absence. Something about being with this man just felt so very right.

She looked up to see if he felt it as well. She didn't know, but his gaze burned into hers.

He dipped his head toward her lips, and she welcomed his kiss. Emily moaned deep in her throat as their lips met. This was what she had been aching for. Time alone with a man she loved as he rained kisses on her.

With a boldness that astounded her, she took his lips between her teeth and tugged gently. She wanted to devour this man, to feel every inch of him against her and never, ever to let him go.

Draven's head swam as he tasted the sweetness of her mouth. She clutched at his back with her hands, pulling him so close to her that he feared he might actually hurt her.

In her innocence, she rubbed her breasts against his chest, searing him with heat. Draven moaned as she shifted her weight in his arms and her hip brushed against his swollen groin.

“Emily,” he groaned, trying to pull back from her.

Instead, she leaned forward, recapturing his lips with her own.

His will shredded by her touch, Draven was past the point of rational thought. All he could focus on was the manifestation of his dreams. The pleasure of her smell, the feel of her hip grinding against the part of him he had longed to give her.

“Make love to me, Draven, for the rest of the night,” Emily begged as she buried her hands in his hair.

She felt his hands tugging at the hem of her gown, lifting it up so that he was able to touch the bare flesh of her buttocks as he kissed her fiercely, demandingly.

She reveled in the feel of him, in the knowledge that she would never want another man the way she wanted Draven.

Never.

Ecstasy tore through her as chills erupted the length of her body. She wasn't sure what thrilled her more, the feel of his tongue stroking her neck or the strong hands that touched her in places no other man had ever touched.

Draven cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply.

Emily closed her eyes.

“Here,” he said, his voice a ragged whisper in her ear. “Touch me here.” He took her hand and placed it on the bulge of his breeches.

She widened her eyes at the feel of him throbbing in her palm. Her first instinct was to pull away, but the look of pleasure on his face was so great that it spurred her on. She lifted her hand up to the waistband of his breeches, then boldly plunged her hand down through the tangled curls between his legs to touch the flesh of him with her hand.

He shook all over. Emily smiled in satisfaction at the thought of the power she had over this man who claimed he needed no one.

He laid her down then, against the hard floor, and pulled her gown from her. Exposed to his gaze, she trembled in uncertainty. Her face warmed as his gaze ran over her.

“My Emily,” he whispered. “I want to see you, to touch you, but most of all, I want to
taste
you.”

He dipped his head to her breast. Emily arched her back at the sensation of his tongue playing across the taut peak. Moaning, she cupped his head in her hands and held him close as his hot breath scorched her skin.

He ran his hand down her stomach and over her hip. Her entire body ached with need. Bittersweet pleasure tore through her.

And then he trailed his hand around her thigh and touched the center of her body. Emily gasped as ecstasy whipped through her while his fingers caressed the tender folds of her body.

Draven groaned deep in his throat as he pulled back to look down at her. Over and over his fingers stroked her, teasing her with a promise of more pleasure, until he pulled away.

Emily whimpered in disappointment as he rose to his feet and pulled off his breeches.

Draven held his hand out to her. Emily took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He led her to the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He made a deep, throaty sound that warmed her. “You haven't been reading your book lately,” he teased as he placed a kiss on the back of her neck.

Emily shivered.

Draven stood behind her then. He pulled her back against his chest and ran his hands over her breasts, down her waist, and to her hips.

Emily arched her back against him and reached up over her head to bury her hands in his hair.

He wrapped one arm about her waist, then trailed his hand back to the juncture of her thighs. Emily moaned in pleasure.

“That's it,” he breathed against her neck. “Surrender your weight to me.”

She did, and he rained kisses over her shoulders. She could feel the tip of his shaft pressing against her buttocks.

He sucked his breath in sharply between his teeth, then lifted his head. His fingers returned to the center of her body to torture her with pleasure. Emily couldn't stand it. She writhed in his arms as his fingers slid in and out of her, heightening her pleasure.

And as the ache in her built, he nudged her thighs wider apart and plunged himself into her body.

Emily moaned in bliss as she lowered her hips to draw him deeper into her.

Draven closed his eyes, savoring her sighs as he buried himself up to his hilt. Never had he felt anything more incredible than the tightness of her heat surrounding him as he thrust himself back inside her.

Heaven help him for what he was doing. But this was all he had ever wanted in his life. Someone who could accept him.

She was a part of him he hadn't realized was missing until she had stumbled into his life, holding that damned red chicken in her hands.

Emily clenched her teeth as exquisite torture wracked her body. Her head spun as he drove himself into her again and again, deeper than before. It was incredible, this feeling of him behind her and in her.

His fingers quickened to a rhythm to match the strokes of his hips. Her body became possessed of its own free will as it met him stroke for stroke, building her pleasure until she could barely stand it.

And then she exploded into ribbons of sheer, unadulterated ecstasy. Emily cried out as a pleasure more profound than anything she had ever imagined tore through her. She tightened her hand in his hair as her body was turned inside out by his touch.

Draven closed his eyes as he felt her shuddering in his arms, and then he filled her with his own release.

Sated to a depth he had never known existed, Draven sank to his knees.

Emily turned around slowly. A sheen of sweat covered Draven's body as he looked up at her in awe. Smiling, she knelt down by his side and pulled his lips to hers.

His kiss was deep and possessive as he toyed with her lips. “You were incredible, milady.”

She ran her hand over his brow, then through his hair as she stared at those multicolored blue eyes. “I had no idea it could be like that,” she said in awe.

“Neither did I.” He reached for his tunic and wiped the sweat from his face before he returned to her.

Draven sat cross-legged on the floor, then pulled her to his lap. Emily bit her lip as he wrapped her legs about his waist and held her tight against him.

She quivered at the sensation of his muscled stomach touching the sensitive flesh between her legs. Smiling, she brushed his hair from his eyes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

Draven nuzzled at her neck, sending waves of chills over her. Pulling back, he toyed with her necklace. Emily groaned as he picked up the large tear-shaped emerald, and his knuckles brushed against her breast. He gave her a hard look before seizing her breast with his teeth.

Hissing in pleasure, she leaned back. Draven laid her gently against the floor and she lay exposed to him with her buttocks still resting in his lap.