Warrior (37 page)

the wall, her eyes on him, both hands

clasped on the hilt of her sword.

What he did next she could not have

anticipated in her wildest dreams. His

sword clattered to the ground and

then he was advancing. Having no

choice, unless she wished to run him

through and she certainly did not wish

that, Jaisyn lowered her sword and

stood her ground. Her husband

towered over her, looking every inch

an angry, avenging male. Strands of

his black hair stuck to his sweat-

slicked face, and his eyes had turned

to that deep shade of grey, the shade

that she had once confused for black.

His jaw was clenched, lips drawn

tightly over his teeth.

So caught up was she in the

intensity of his gaze she did not know

he was moving until his hand grasped

the hilt of her sword and tossed it. She

turned her head to see her sword land

to the far end of the room.

Defenseless, she lifted her chin and

faced him once more. She’d been

stupid. She had let him distract her

and he’d easily disarmed her.

He stepped closer to her and leaned

down.

She

inhaled

his

earthy,

masculine musk and tried to ignore

the effect it had on her body.

“Yield,” he said once more and

Jaisyn blinked rapidly before shaking

her head.

His hands grasped her arms and he

repeated his command once more.

She shook her head.

He kissed her. It was rough and

demanding, as he had been during

their fight.

***

Jaisyn shocked him more when she

pressed herself against him and parted

her lips. His tongue stroked hers

eagerly and she returned the favor.

When he pulled away, they were both

feeling heat that had nothing and

everything to do with their recent

fight.

Vulcan stared down at her, noticing

that her eyes had turned to that

beautiful shade that he enjoyed very

much. Liquid gold. His wife wanted

him. And he had wanted her for seven

torturous days. There would be no

stopping him now. His arm went

around her back and he pulled her

flush up against his body. A soft cry

escaped her lips moments before his

lips captured it. Jaisyn groaned as she

felt his body against hers, admitting

that she’d missed him, that she’d

missed this. Her hands came up and

went to his shoulders, which were

covered in rough, biting metal. She

pulled away from his lips and pushed

out of his arms. Puzzled, Vulcan

raised his eyebrows at her.

“Your chain mail,” she murmured

breathlessly.

He understood. He worked quickly,

tugging the heavy material over his

head and throwing it to her floor. That

done, she stepped into his arms once

more, lifting her lips to his as her

hands caressed the soft hairs at the

nape of his neck.

Enough,

Vulcan

told

himself,

deciding that tonight would be soon

enough to finish their play. Right now,

he wanted to be inside her. Fighting

his wife had served to infuriate him

but it had done little to squelch the lust

that burned him every time she

countered his attacks. Everything that

she did as he tried to knock her sword

away from her, he found captivating.

The way she tossed her hair over her

shoulder, the way she licked her dry

lips, how she moved to avoid him,

everything.

He began undoing the buttons in her

riding habit. His lips were still

attached to hers. In his impatience, he

ripped the closure, and deciding that

he would get her a new one, found the

seams for the entire bodice and ripped

that as well. Her breasts spilled out,

beautiful offerings to tame the beast

she’d unleashed. He filled his hands

with them, rolling his fingers around

the already hard buds.

***

She gasped and moved her hands

under his tunic. His skin was hot and

damp. Jaisyn caressed the hard ridges

of his stomach, and moved her hands

up to his chest. The tunic was a

hindrance. She removed her hands

and stepped away from him once

more. She headed over to the bed,

moving the ripped upper half of her

riding habit from her body and

unhooking the loose breeches she

wore underneath. Vulcan watched as

she stripped naked and slipped under

the furs. He approached the bed,

tugging his tunic over his head. His

boots, he easily discarded. The

breeches were undone and pushed

from his body.

Jaisyn watched him in anticipation

and slight fear. She’d missed him,

missed the way he loved her, missed

the way he held her, missed the way

he felt against her, missed the way he

smelled. And she’d felt guilty about

missing him. In his absence from her

bed, Jaisyn had come to the

realization that she was not falling in

love with her husband, she was

already there. She did not know when

it had happened but she knew it was

true.

He tossed the furs away from her

and easily slid atop her, bracing his

weight on muscular arms. Her thighs

cradled his hips lovingly and she

stared up at him in something akin to

wonder.

“Jaisyn?” he breathed softly, leaning

down to pull one of her dusky nipples

into his mouth.

She arched into him and cried out.

He released her nipple and attached

his lips to hers once more. Her arms

snaked around his back, caressing him

before her hands moved down to his

buttocks and she pulled him forward.

Vulcan shifted his hips, and reached

between their bodies. Lining himself

up, he plunged home. She whimpered

at the feel of him buried deep. He

didn’t give her time to recover as he

set a quick pace that made her breasts

bounce rapidly against her body.

Jaisyn held onto him and focused on

the slide of his body into hers, the feel

of him above her, his masculine scent,

which both relaxed and energized her.

Within minutes, she came apart

under him. A few thrusts later, he

pushed to the hilt and climaxed.

***

voice interrupted the peaceful silence

that had fallen after their intense

lovemaking. His fingers traced her

shoulder, and she knew he was

referring to her scar.

Jaisyn shifted, rolling onto her back

before moving into the heat of his

body. Vulcan’s brows were knitted,

curious. Drawing a deep breath, she

told him about her costly decision to

ride into battle.

He listened without interruption as

she spoke through the tightness in her

throat, of her brother’s valiant attempt

to save her.

“You were but a child, Jaisyn—.”

“I was good with the sword, better

than the squires,” she interrupted,

knowing with hindsight, he spoke true.

“I thought I was ready.”

There was a long silence as she

reminisced on the day that would

always haunt her, the strokes of

Vulcan’s fingers against her back

calming her.

“I don’t want you training with my

men.”Jaisyn closed her eyes and

sighed, shaking her long tresses about

her head. “It’s a part of me, Vulcan. I

won’t—I can’t stop.”

A sigh escaped him and he said

ruefully, “I had the feeling you would

say that.”

Lowering her head to her husband’s

chest, Jaisyn listened to the solid beat

of his heart.

***

“You said your father raised you as

a boy?” he probed, lifting his hand

and taking one of her curls between

his fingers.

Jaisyn nodded. “As a child, my

selection of toys included wooden

swords and daggers. My father

thought it humorous to indulge himself

so. As I grew older, I begged him to

allow me to train with the younger

squires. He indulged himself once

more. Malcolm became my partner

because the other squires were afraid

either to hurt me or be trounced by a

girl.”

A smile touched her lips as he

scowled. Malcolm had fled Lytheria

and Vulcan had the distinct feeling it

had something to with Jaisyn.

“How long did you train with

Malcolm?” he found himself asking.

“I began training at ten years old

and Malcolm remained my partner

until you arrived.”

The last part was said with a hint of

bitterness that Vulcan ignored. His

mind was replaying a conversation

that he’d had with Varian at Lytheria.

His brother had told him that Malcolm

had met another soldier by the lake, a

soldier he’d shown affection for by

kissing. His eyes narrowed and his

grip on her hair tightened. She did not

feel it.

“Why did Malcolm leave Lytheria?”

he asked calmly, even as he felt his

blood boil. Varian had said that the

soldier had demonstrated considerable

skill with a sword and that he had not

been able to see the man’s face. As he

thought back to earlier in the day, as

he stared down at his wife, her face

covered in grime, and men’s clothing

covering her body, he couldn’t help

the transgression of his thoughts.

“He could not stay,” she told him

vaguely.

“Why not? Was he not your loyal

servant, your loyal
friend
?” Vulcan

demanded softly, wondering how he

had missed it. Why had he not

suspected that the friendship between

his wife and Malcolm, the general’s

son, was deeper than friendship? As

he thought of that, he ignored the pain

that lanced through his heart and

remembered the first time he’d

encountered Jaisyn within the castle

walls. When she’d seen Malcolm,

she’d cried out in happiness. And at

their wedding, he’d spied Malcolm

speaking to his wife in such a familiar

fashion that he’d approached them,

wanting to remove his wife from the

man’s presence. It did not help that

the man was considered a mortal god

by many of the Lytherian women.

She licked at her lips nervously.

“Yes Vulcan, Malcolm was a loyal

friend and servant but he needed to

leave. For his own reasons.”

“ H e
n e e d e d
to leave?” Vulcan

retorted.

Jaisyn nodded, refusing to explain

why. He suddenly pulled her further

up his body, so that she was directly

over him.

“Was it because he loved you,

Jaisyn?”

Her eyes widened, involuntarily

answering his question.

“You were the soldier by the lake,”

he said, more so to himself than her.

She gasped.

Vulcan pushed her from him and

moved away from the bed.

“Vulcan!” she called after him,

scrambling from the bed and going

after him. “You do not understand.”

He whirled, furious once more.

“Make me understand, wife! Malcolm

loved you and you loved him. And

even after we were married, you

disguised yourself and met with him

by a lake! First the Prince of Mitherie

and now Malcolm! Have you offered

yourself to him as well?”

***

Shocked at that accusation, Jaisyn

remained speechless, two naked

lovers staring at each other across a

room lit not only by firelight but by

sunlight.

“You insult me, Vulcan! I came to

your bed an innocent,” Jaisyn finally

said, staring hard at him. “Malcolm

and I have been nothing but friends.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh. “And

you swear, on your Goddess, that you

did not kiss him, dressed as man, by

the lakeside?”

As she remembered that encounter,

Jaisyn’s eyes lowered slightly before