Tapestries 04 - Threads of Destiny (21 page)

BOOK: Tapestries 04 - Threads of Destiny
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“Do you want to touch him?”

Muscles worked in Marc’s jaw but she didn’t sense that he was angry or upset with her. She shifted closer and watched as the muscles in his shoulders rippled. “Yes. I’ve never seen a real horse before.”

“Never?”

She sensed his surprise and smiled. “No. I’ve seen pictures in books but this is the first opportunity I’ve ever had to actually see a real one.” Marc smiled at her then and all her concerns fell away. The sun streaming in through an open window surrounded him, making him appear like some guardian angel or a hero from an epic poem. His brown hair flowed to his waist, caressing his bare shoulders and biceps. The vest he wore was open, revealing the hard planes of his chest. She’d touched that chest, slept with her face snuggled against it, yet like the horse, he seemed almost too good to be real.

He captured her easily with his golden-brown gaze and she leaned closer to him.

She simply wanted to be near him, wanted to touch him. God, how she would miss him when she was gone.

Resentment filled her at the thought of having to return to her home. Why had the tapestry shown her this glimpse of heaven when she had to go back and right the wrongs of her father? It wasn’t fair. But then, she’d learned early in life that fair had nothing to do with anything. Fair only happened in stories and fairytales.

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“Give me your hand.” He didn’t wait for her to comply but reached down and captured her fingers in his. Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn before lifting it and placing it against the horse’s neck.

She could feel the heat and the silky coat of the horse beneath her fingers. “What’s his name?”

Marc shifted so that he was standing behind her, his chest to her back. Horse and man surrounded her. “Destiny.” He slid his hand down her arm, raising goose bumps on her flesh.

She tried to concentrate on the horse but it was almost impossible as Marc’s hands slid down her back and around her sides. He dipped his fingers beneath the hem of her tunic and pushed upward. Her breath caught in her throat as she raised her free hand, resting it against the horse’s back. Destiny stilled, his large black body not moving a muscle.

The fabric bunched as Marc’s hands continued their upward journey. Cream slid from her core and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. She wanted Marc and her body was making no secret of that fact.

“Feel the strength of the horse’s muscles beneath your palms,” he whispered as the edge of his hands brushed the undersides of her breasts.

As if all her senses were heightened, Kathryn could feel the muscles beneath her palms bunching and relaxing. She licked her lips, desperately trying to pay attention to the conversation but it was difficult. If Marc raised his hands the slightest bit he would be cupping her breasts. Her nipples tightened in anticipation. “I feel it.” He circled his hands around her breasts, his thumbs outlining her areolas but not quite touching them. “So soft.”

It was the most exquisite torture imaginable. Kathryn knew they were taking a chance. Anyone could walk into the stables and see them. Her tunic was pushed over her breasts and Marc’s hands were cupped around them. But the fear of being caught only served to heighten her arousal.

She pushed her hips back against him, moaning when she felt the hard length of his arousal against her bottom. Marc groaned, burying his face in the curve of her neck as he thumbed her nipples.

The sensation shot straight between her thighs. She was hot and wet and more than ready for him to fuck her. “Marc,” she panted as he tugged gently on the turgid peaks.

“Hmm…” he answered as he ground his cock into her bottom.

“Someone could come in and see us.” The smell of horse and leather and man was thicker now but underlying it all was the musky scent of arousal. Hers.

Marc nipped at her neck and then soothed the slight wound with his tongue.

Kathryn sucked in a breath as her body responded to the caress. The crotch of her pants was soaked with her cream.

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“I want you, Kathryn. I want to pull your pants down your sleek thighs, spread your legs wide and fuck you until you scream with pleasure.” She couldn’t think. His words echoed in her brain until nothing else existed. No one or nothing else mattered. Right here and now, all she wanted was the man who was giving her such pleasure. She wanted his hardness buried deep inside her, soothing the ache that he’d created. “Yes,” she moaned as he plied her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers.

He stiffened and then groaned as he went to his knees behind her. The ties at her waist were swiftly loosened and his hands slipped inside. His fingers grazed her hipbones as he shoved the pants down her thighs at the same time. She lifted one foot and then the other, allowing him to pull away her clothing, leaving her naked from the waist down, except for her boots.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. His lips grazed the back of her leg. She jerked and then gave a breathless laugh, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers moved swiftly upward. “Part your legs.”

She didn’t even give it a second though. The horse shifted slightly and Marc snapped out a quick command. The horse stilled in front of her, its body supporting her as its master probed between her thighs.

“You’re so wet.” She could hear the pleasure and wonder in his voice. “And it’s all for me.”

“Yes.” She wanted him to know how much she wanted him, how much she cared.

He tilted her hips back slightly and his fingers glided over her slick folds. “You taste sweeter than honey.” As if to prove his point, he stroked his tongue over her, swirling around her opening before dipping inside.

Kathryn rested her face against the horse’s back. The hair was slightly prickly against her cheek but it was warm and solid. Her lungs were working hard now as she struggled to breathe. Her blood was hot in her veins, surging through her body and pooling in her pussy.

She cried out when his tongue flicked her swollen clitoris. The small nub of nerves was alive with sensation as he did it again and again. He pressed two fingers deep into her. Her inner muscles rippled, grasping at him as he withdrew and thrust again.

“Come for me, Kathryn. Give me your pleasure.” His voice was ragged with lust as he worked her core with his fingers and her clit with his thumb. When he stroked the dark cleft of his ass with his other hand she gasped. Using her own juices, he coated his finger and rimmed the puckered opening of her behind before pushing inward.

The sensation was foreign but it was arousing. She could feel his thick finger where no one had ever touched her before. “Marc,” she panted, not quite sure if she wanted him to stop or continue.

He took the decision away from her, pressing his finger farther into her ass. Her breasts swayed as she moved with him, wanting him deeper and harder. He continued 113

to fuck her pussy with his other hand. Pressure built within her until it couldn’t be contained any longer.

Orgasm hit her hard. Her legs trembled as she came. Cream slid from her slit, coating his hand with each contraction. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Give it all to me.” Gripping the horse, she rode out the waves of pleasure, moaning in disappointment when Marc carefully withdrew his fingers from her ass and pussy. Before she could give voice to her frustration she was spun around.

Marc’s eyes blazed with a combination of longing and lust as he cupped her ass in his hands and lifted her. Her legs twined around his waist automatically and she tilted her hips, rubbing against his thick length.

Her back was shoved up against the thick plank wall at the back of the stall. The fabric bunched around her shoulders cushioned her slightly. Marc leaned into her, holding her with the weight of his chest as he unlaced his pants.

“Hurry.” She buried her hands in his hair.

He stopped long enough to plaster his lips against hers in a desperate, breath-stealing kiss. His tongue claimed hers and his mouth stole the very air from her lungs.

Breathless, she kissed him back so hard their teeth clinked together. Her hands fisted in his hair as she held him to her.

How could she leave him?

The thought intruded, threatening to steal her pleasure. Then it was gone. Shoved away by the feel of Marc’s hard flesh against her slick, tender folds. He positioned his cock at her opening and thrust hard, pushing every last solid inch inside her.

The horse nickered softly behind them but no other sound intruded. There was only the two of them, joined together, their breath mingling as they gasped for air.

She cried out as her body adjusted. Pleasure and pain warred briefly but pleasure easily won out. Gripping his shoulders, she hung on as he lifted her slightly. His fingers curved around her ass, holding her tightly as he sucked one taut nipple into his mouth and then the other. Back and forth he went, giving each puckered nub equal attention.

It wasn’t enough.

“I need you to move.” She tried to lift and then let her body fall back on his shaft.

She only moved about an inch but even that sent tendrils of pleasure rippling through her. When he paused, she tugged on his hair, bringing his face up to hers. “Fuck me!” she demanded.

He growled low in his chest, his face almost feral in the dim light. But she wasn’t afraid. She wanted him to lose control. She wanted him to take her hard and quick.

All thoughts about what was to come faded. Kathryn no longer cared if anyone walked in and found them. She didn’t care that they were in a horse’s stall in a stable.

Nothing mattered but the physical and emotional connection between her and Marc.

Hitching her legs over his arms, he began to fuck her. Hard. His hips pumped faster and faster. She felt impaled by his thick length with every thrust. All her being focused 114

on the heat building deep within her. Her thighs quivered and her hands clung to his neck and shoulders. His chest brushed her turgid nipples with every stroke of his cock.

Both of them were straining now. Reaching for it.

“Kathryn!” He cried her name as he rammed into her. His desperation was hers and she clutched him tighter, working her hips in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Marc!” She screamed as her entire being exploded. Stars danced before her eyes and her vision dimmed. Her body jerked, her hips grinding against his as a wave of heat filled her. She felt his cock swell inside her just before the flood of his hot essence filled her. She held on tight, wanting to feel every second, every sensation.

When it finally subsided, her head fell limp to one side and a bead of sweat rolled down her temple and into her eye. She blinked as it began to sting. Her hands slid from his slick shoulders and she hung there in his grasp.

Her senses gradually returned, making her very aware of the sights and sounds around her. The plank was hard against her back, her tunic a tight band around her upper chest. She was covered in sweat and her thighs were wet and sticky. When she shifted she felt a trickle of cream in the cleft of her behind, a reminder of what Marc had done. She’d found it incredibly arousing when he’d touched her there, pressing his finger past the tight opening of her ass.

The smell of sex surrounded them, hot and pungent. It mingled with the aroma of man, woman, horse, straw and leather. Kathryn knew she’d never forget it as long as she lived and that it would haunt her dreams for years to come.

Shifting her head slightly, she saw the horse in the far corner of the stall. The beast was watching them with its dark, soulful eyes. She shivered as a light breeze wafted over her, reminding her of their precarious position.

Marc raised his head and stared at her, his lips parting as if he wanted to speak. The horse whinnied and shuffled. Marc swore and slowly withdrew from her. Now that he was only partially erect, it was easy, yet her inner muscles grasped and clutched at him, trying to keep him within her.

The muscles in her thighs protested as she straightened. She was grateful for the wall behind her because she didn’t think she could stand on her own. Her legs were like jelly.

She heard the voices then and they were getting closer. The fear of discovery propelled her away from the wall. Marc had already laced the front of his pants and run his hand through his hair. He looked the same as always except for the satisfied gleam in his eyes.

Thoroughly disgruntled, she frowned at him as she searched for her pants. Spying them, she bent down and grabbed them, barely stifling a shriek when he patted her on the behind. She shot him a dirty look as she shoved her feet into the openings and tugged her pants over her legs.

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Whipping her tunic down, she finger-combed her hair as best she could, though she knew it was a useless endeavor. Anyone with a grain of sense would know what they had just done. Kathryn was sure she looked as if she’d just been tumbled in a stable.

What was done, was done. And besides, she wasn’t ashamed of what had just happened. It was just awkward. She didn’t want to meet someone she knew, having them speculate on what she and Marc had been doing.

As if sensing her unease, he smiled at her, stroking her hair from her face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She glanced at the open door of the stall. The voices were almost upon them.

“Wait until the coast is clear and then head back to the castle. You could use another bath.” He plucked a strand of straw from her hair. She had no idea where it had come from. Before she could agree or disagree, he planted a rough, quick kiss on her mouth and was gone. He strode from the stall, pausing long enough to grab his sword.

She stood there, her fingers touching her lips. She could feel the heat of his mouth on hers and it sent a sweet pulsing to her core. “Stop it,” she muttered under her breath.

That’s what had gotten her in trouble in the first place.

The men hailed Marc and she heard the low rumble of his voice returning their greeting. Creeping over to the door, she sneaked a quick peek. Two of the men she’d met yesterday—the head of the castle guard and the stable master—were talking with Marc. As she watched, he nodded and motioned to something outside.

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