Sharon Lanergan (10 page)

Brian left her right breast and suckled her other nipple. She nearly shot off the bed.

“Brian,” Constance moaned. He rose from her breasts and returned to kissing her. She drank of him greedily.

“Open for me, sweetheart,” Brian murmured against her kiss-swollen lips.

Constance complied willingly, for she couldn’t wait to feel his hard length inside her. She wrapped her legs around his buttocks and raised her hips, urging him to complete their coupling.

He slid in easily with one long, deep thrust. Barely holding back a sob of relief, Constance closed around his length, sheathing him tight.

“Lord, you’re tight,” Brian ground out, burying his face in her neck.

She reveled in the sensation of finally having him with her, in her, part of her.

He withdrew, for just a moment, but it was long enough to fill her with a deep longing, then he plunged forward. Again. He repeated the motion, and Constance clung to him.

Brian nipped at her neck, then claimed her lips in a soul-shattering kiss Constance wasn’t sure she would survive. His tongue probed her mouth just as his hard length probed below.

Constance pulled him closer, if possible, her breasts melded to his chest, the crisp hair sending waves of ecstasy through her as it brushed her engorged nipples.

Her hips rose of their own volition, eagerly meeting his deep, hungry thrusts.

“Constance,” he breathed against her lips, allowing the slightest hint of air into their lungs, then deepened their kiss.

Their hands searched for each other, and when they found each other, Brian threaded his fingers through hers.

Her world was spiraling, her heart thudding against their joined bodies. She gasped against his mouth.

He increased the pressure of his thrusts, harder and faster, and so much deeper Constance thought he might break the bed. She wouldn’t have minded.

“Look at me,” Brian ordered.

Constance wanted to open her eyes, to stare into his midnight depths, but her heavy lids would not cooperate, and they drifted closed.

He nibbled her bottom lip, and she tried again. This time her gaze met his and she couldn’t breathe. His gaze blazed with an intense passion. For her.

And then her release claimed her and she could no longer hold a rational thought. Her legs clenched around him, milking every last thrust she could. She threw her head back against the soft mattress as he pounded into her, poured his seed into her.

Constance screamed, and Brian swallowed her cry with his mouth and his own hoarse shout.

Exhausted, worn out, they still kissed each other desperately, passionately. Unwilling or unable to stop the contact between them. Brian lay within her, not moving off her, and she would have refused to let him if he’d tried.

Finally, after the long kisses had ended, and their heavily lidded eyes could remain open no longer, Brian eased out of and off her. He pulled her close, and she snuggled against him, contentedly holding him, willing his strength to comfort her and hers to comfort him.

Chapter Fourteen

“You think to get away from me so easily?” The golden haired angel mocked, leering.

“Leave me alone,” Constance sobbed. She crossed her arms over her face to block his evil face from view.

“You’ll never be free of me, Constance.” Loutrant shook her hard, his fingers digging into the already bruised flesh of her arms. “No matter with whom you share your bed, I’ll be there with you. I’ll be the one you see, the one you feel.”

“No,” Constance denied in a broken whisper. “It’s not true.”

Loutrant laughed, his head tilting back at an odd angle, almost as though his neck were broken. Constance pushed, trying to get him away, but he just continued to laugh, and she couldn’t budge him.

Finally, she closed her eyes, blocking his malevolent grin. She hugged herself and then with her eyes clenched tight, pushed him away with her legs as hard as she could.

Abruptly, his laughing ceased.

Constance woke and found herself staring at Brian’s bare chest. For just a brief time she thought of Loutrant. A nightmare.

She tilted her head back to peer up at Brian in the dim shadows of the early morning and memories of their shared passion flooded her. During the long, cold night they’d awakened from their slumber and made love again. Twice. She smiled and pushed the last of her tormented thoughts of Loutrant away.

Soft snoring came from Brian. She was glad he still slept, for it gave her some time to enjoy the morning in his arms. It was odd to share a bed all night with someone. An experience Constance never had before.

Making love with Brian was everything she dreamed it should be and more. Her time with first Nick and then Loutrant, before his true abusive nature took over, could not compare.

Constance trailed her fingertips over the light sprinkling of dark hair on Brian’s chest. He did not stir. She raised herself up on her elbows so she could stare down at his face. The room was still enshrouded in mostly darkness, but her gaze had adjusted to it and she could just make out his features.

Her heart leaped at his masculine beauty. She supposed he was who they had in mind when once she heard the term, heartbreakingly handsome. Constance smiled over the fanciful thoughts.

Her gaze trailed to his arms, grown more muscular these past few weeks, she noted. She frowned, wondering at the cause.

Constance listened. She didn’t hear any sounds of others out of bed yet. How early was it? She carefully pushed aside the furs, trying not to wake Brian and padded naked to the window. The chill in the air made her steps quicken.

The white of the snow nearly blinded her. It blanketed the grounds for as far as she could see, and large flakes of it still fell from the sky.

Constance closed the fur over the window and hurried silently back to the bed. She crawled back under and snuggled up to Brian.

He stirred against her.

“Morning,” she whispered.

Brian lifted his head and blinked in the dimness. Constance leaned up and kissed him.

His lips were cold and stiff and for a moment Constance was afraid he was going to return to his aloofness. Ask her to leave, even. Then they softened and he returned the kiss.

“Good morning,” Brian said against her mouth. “Why are you so cold?”

“I went to look out the window,” Constance answered.

In response, Brian pulled her on top of him.

“And what did you see?” He nipped her bottom lip.

“Snow. Everywhere.” Constance rubbed her breasts against his chest.

“Hmm.” Brian groaned and reached his hand down to separate her legs. His fingers found her wetness.

“Brian,” Constance breathed, arching her back. She rose up and then back down again to take his length inside her.

Brian pulled her head down and took possession of her lips, her long hair pillowing around him.

Constance increased the rhythm of their joining, rising and falling on top of his hardness. Her tongue tangled with his.

He gripped her hips with his strong hands and lifted her up and off him, then plunged her down again. Constance gasped with need.

“Like that?” Brian teased.

Constance lifted her head and smiled. Then she tightened around him and was rewarded with his moan.

“Like that?” Constance mimicked him with a throaty laugh.

Brian flipped her onto her back with a swift and graceful move. He moved within her, thrusting harder and deeper.

Their lips locked and they lost the desire to speak, giving in completely to the joining of their bodies.

Later, when they’d found their release and their breathing returned to normal, Brian placed a kiss on Constance’s silky hair, and pushed the furs back to rise from the bed. Leaning down he tucked the furs around her.

“Fire!”

Constance sat up quickly.

“Fire in the stables!” A soldier shouted from below.

“Stay here,” Brian ordered, yanking on breeches and a jerkin.

“Stay here?” Constance exclaimed, scrambling out of bed. “I am coming with you!”

Brian threw her a quelling glance but it was wasted. She was bent down, picking up her gown. With a sigh of frustration, he sat down and pulled on his boots. By the time he’d laced them up, Constance was dressed and slipping her feet into her slippers.

Brian opened the door of his room and turned to tell Constance she ought to at least wait until they were certain the hallway was deserted when she rushed past him, out the door and down the hall. He hurried after her.

Constance burst through the castle doors just ahead of him, but when they got outside, Brian overtook her and ran to the burning stables ahead of her. Black, bilious smoke poured out from the wooden structure.

Brian glanced around and noticed several soldiers running with buckets of water. He did not immediately see any of his brothers.

Constance caught up and grabbed his arm, breathing heavily. “Brian, one of the soldiers just told me Trevor went inside!”

“What?” His blood ran cold.

“To save Valiant,” Constance shouted, then coughed as the smoke billowed toward her.

“Stay back,” Brian said, pushing her further away from the stables. He pulled off the cloak of a passing soldier and flung it over his head.

“What are you doing?” Constance demanded. “Brian!”

Brian ignored her and ran into the burning stables. He would not allow his son to die.

Her vision stinging from the smoke, Constance wiped at them and went to follow Brian inside, but someone grabbed her from behind and held her tight.

“Let me go!” she screamed.

“Where do you think you are going?” Telford demanded, turning her around to face him, his face red with anger.

“Inside,” Constance explained. “Brian went in after Trevor.”

Telford grimaced and glanced at the flaming structure. “You can’t go in, Constance. We don’t need three of you to look after.”

“But Brian is in there,” Constance shouted, tears gushing down her cheeks.

“I know he is.” Telford held her. “Don’t you think I want to go in there after them?”

Constance clenched her fists. She barely resisted the urge to pound on Telford’s chest. Didn’t he know she couldn’t go on without Brian?

Stephen ran up to them. “What the hell happened?”

Telford shook his head. “I don’t know. Trevor and Brian are inside.”

Stephen swore. “What’ll we do?”

“We can do naught,” Telford said. “The roof will cave in on all our heads should we try to save them.”

Lucien and Nick arrived and Telford quickly explained the situation to them. He never once released his firm hold on Constance. She could almost hate him.

“Look,” Stephen pointed, drawing all their attention.

Constance followed his finger. Valiant thundered out of the stables, bits of flaming wood falling around him, and sparks flying in the air. And lying prone on the big stallion, strapped to the horse, was Trevor.

Constance sobbed and broke free of Telford’s hold, rushing forward. The Fitzroys followed quickly.

The heat from the flames hit her and the smoke blinded her. She rubbed her eyes, desperately searching the horse for any sign of Brian. Trevor’s uncles pulled him from the stallion.

Constance doubled over, coughing from the thick billowing clouds.

“Come on,” Telford shouted in her ear, leaning down to pull her back up.

“No,” Constance protested, pushing at Telford’s hands. She straightened up and took a step forward. And then her heart leapt into her throat.

Brian stumbled out of the stables. Alive. His dark hair was covered in gray soot, his face streaked with black, and his eyes red and streaming with tears from the fire. But he was alive.

Constance flew at him, her heart nearly bursting from her chest.

“Brian,” she wept, her arms encircling his neck. He held her close.

“Let him get out of the smoke, sweetheart,” Telford told her, pulling them both out of harm’s way.

Brian hunched over, and let out a loud hacking cough. Then he said, “Trevor?”

“He’s being taken care of,” Telford assured him. “We’ve already sent for the healer.”

Brian nodded, then plopped down on the ground, breathing heavily. Constance crouched next to him and grabbed both of his hands in hers. She had no intention of letting him out of her sight.

“You did a foolish thing going in after him,” Telford said.

Brian glanced up. “Was I supposed to let him die?”

“Nay. We are all glad he is safe. Both of you are.” Telford shook his head. “It could have been a lot different though.”

“But it’s not,” Constance said, frowning up at Telford. “They are both still with us.” She smiled at Brian. “You saved Trevor and Valiant.”

He nodded. “I’m very tired.”

“We need to get you inside. The healer will want to see to your injuries.” Telford reached down to pick Brian up.

Brian growled, “I am not an invalid. I can walk.”

Constance stood and waited as Telford offered his hand to Brian to stand. Brian took it and pulled himself up.

“At least let us help you inside, Brian,” Constance said, putting Brian’s left arm over her shoulder.

Brian nodded. “I’m far too weary to argue.”

Telford got on the other side of Brian and they led him toward the castle.

Brian stopped in his tracks. “Wait.”

“What is it?” Constance wondered.

Brian turned back toward the stables. Warriors still doused the remaining flames in the now nearly collapsed stables. Some of the horses had gotten out, but not all did, and the sickening smell of burning flesh mixed with the acrid stench of smoldering wood.

Constance noticed Brian was staring not at the stables now but at something clenched in his right hand.

“Brian?” she whispered.

He unfolded his hand to reveal what he held. A jagged piece of burned black material with a golden lion embroidered on it.