Angie Arms - Flame Series 03 (13 page)

Then Ryann’s eyes were meeting his across the room
, and her smile changed.  Not in a way he would expect, but from a radiant joy at the game she played, to a pleased smile that he had entered the hall.  She turned to the woman and gave the baby back to her, and patted the woman’s shoulder kindly, before turning to join him at the head table.  She did not see the child reach for her as she walked away from it.  He had the sudden desire to go back on his word and plant his see within his wife this very night, for she would be a wonderful mother, and her every movement across the room made desire he had never felt slam through him.  He wanted to grab her and carry her off to her chamber now.  Lay her head down upon the abundant pillows, explore her small body until it told him where it wanted him to touch it, to bring her pleasure.  He could imagine her head thrown back, the golden waves of her hair falling about him as he buried himself within her.  He imagined the ecstasy it would be to have her wrapped around him.

The noise about him brought him back to a startled reality.  He looked to the dais and found she stood by their chairs, waiting for him.  Anyone could have walked into the hall during his imaginings and he would have been unaware if full on war had broken out within its walls.  How could one woman leave him so vulnerable?  He needed to get her out of his system.  Tomorrow would be early enough, he was after all a strong man
, and could control himself.

~ ~ ~ ~

Ryann watched her husband cross the room.  He was strength in all its glory, he was power
, and it fairly crackled from him as he crossed the space.  He moved easily as a stallion would amongst his herd, showing to all who gathered round him, that he was master and protector.  Soon he would be her husband in every sense, and her stomach did a strange flop, and she wondered if it was fear. 

“My lady,” he said with the slightest of smiles
, and she noticed he had the beginning of a dimple on his right cheek.  She smiled broader at the boyishness of it. 

“Lord Garrick,” she said
, placing a familiar hand on his arm in greeting.  She felt the slightest of flinches at the contact, but it was so well controlled her hand remained.  Ryann felt the strength beneath her palm and had the urge to feel more of him.

He placed his calloused hand atop hers
, and offered an awkward pat before he pulled from her grasp entirely.  She turned and slid into her seat, then wondered at his hesitation as he looked from her chair to her face.  She wondered for a moment if she was not to sit next to him.

Servants began serving the evening meal and Garrick fell to eating, seeing Ryann had an equal appetite.  He recalled many husbands and wives shared trenchers
, but he had no desire to share his food when she could have her own, and not have to wait for him to serve her.  Perhaps that was one of those things Alena was talking about, but he dismissed it as he watched his wife eat hungrily.  Once Garrick had satiated his own hunger, and Ryann settled back in her chair with her wine, he pulled the combs wrapped in cloth from his tunic.  He lay it down in front of her where she had pushed her trencher away.

“What is this?” she asked, a smile crossing her face as she leaned forward.  She tentatively raised the edge
, as if it might contain a venomous snake. 

“Just a small gift to my new bride,” he said.

He had been thoughtful enough to get her a gift?  Her heart swelled with joy that her husband was not only kind, but thoughtful as well.  She did not hesitate to gently unfold the cloth, and inside were the most perfect looking silver combs she had ever seen.  Picking them up, she saw that the horse heads were shaped differently.

“Those are your horses,” he explained
, and she heard pride in his voice.

“Did you think of this?” she asked
, looking up at him in awe.

Something flickered across his face
, but it was too fleeting within the stone to discern what emotion it might be.  “I did.”

“They are just lovely,” she said
, and she could not help but throw her arms around him.  He was stiff, his neck solid, as her hands slid around it, intertwining until her head pressed against his neck, as she hugged it.  Pulling away she did not hesitate to place a kiss of appreciation upon his cheek.  He was looking at her as she pulled away, and she nearly fainted at the naked desire that burned within his black eyes.  Her stomach did the strange flop again, and she had to wonder if it was not fear, but her own desire, for she wanted nothing more than to grab him back to her. 

“Let me,” he said
, almost reverently as he took one of the combs from her.  Reaching behind her head he released the strip of leather that held it in place.  He watched it with excruciating slowness as it fell down around her shoulders.  Reaching out he stroked it, the hand gentle, and he seemed enraptured by the act and did it again.  His eyes darted back to her and he did not hesitate to lift the comb to place it in her hair.  As it first slid in it seemed to drag across the hair, but as he proceeded the comb yanked it, making her draw away from it.  Unaware of the pain he had just caused her, he positioned the comb as it dug into her scalp, and it felt as if it were yanking each hair free.  “It’s…” she began, reaching for it, but he already took the other in hand as she frantically tried to reach past his big arms to her own head.

“Ouch,” she said
, trying to yank away.  In doing so the comb he was placing in her hair tangled, and the other side of her head felt like it was on fire.  He immediately tried to rectify the situation by pulling the comb out, but it entangled itself well, for it only jerked the hair more.

“I’ll get it,” she said
, trying to push him away.  Wanting to get the one out, so she could get the other.  She couldn’t tell which one was hurting more.

“Let me help you,” he said
, actually grasping her head in both his hands to still her. 

“No, I can get it,” she said again
, trying to pull away.  His hand was suddenly in her hair, bracing her head, and yanking her hair more, while using the other to take hold of the dangling comb once again.

“Stop!” she yelled at him
, for she did not feel as if her scalp could take any more stress.  He immediately did not let go, so she smacked his arms and franticly tried to push him away.

Getting the space she needed to use her arms
, she went for the first one he placed, for it indeed did hurt the worst.  As she tried to pull it free, it only managed to pull more hair.  Her mind wanted to panic, for she could not stop the steady hard pull that was bringing tears to her eyes.  She felt Garrick’s big hands fall on the comb again, and she knew he could not touch it again, for it was obvious he was intent on using brute force to pull it free.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled at him, franticly pushing him away.  “Alena,” she called to the other woman nearby.  The pain was blinding, she dared not touch the combs herself, she couldn’t imagine them becoming even more tangled. 

“Be still,” Alena said, from behind her.  After several excruciating minutes Alena finally freed her from the painful combs.  It took another moment for the ache to leave before she noticed the combs lying before her, with several strands of hair stuck in each.  She lifted one and upon close inspection saw the rough edges all over that gave it a more sparkling quality, but was a curse to hair.  She turned to tell Garrick, but his chair was empty.  A quick look about the hall and she knew he left as soon as she screamed at him to leave her alone. 

“Thank you Alena,” she said
, plastering a grateful smile upon her face.  “I think I must go straighten myself out,” she said, rising from her chair, being sure to take the combs with her.  They might not make good combs, but they were still gorgeous and thoughtful gifts.  They would look nice beside the mantle where the candles would glisten off of them. 

Once her maid helped remove the tangles from her hair
, she went in search of Garrick.  She found him on the wall, his silhouette was dark against the sliver of a moon casting shadows through the thickening clouds, but she knew without a doubt who it was.  She climbed the steps carefully in the dark, only coming out into a hint of light when she stepped onto the walkway. 

“What do you want?” his harsh voice asked. 

He was pouting, she had dealt with enough children through the years to know the sound of a person when they were pouting.  “I came to thank you for the gifts.”

He turned toward her
, and she could feel his shadowed eyes raking over her.  She had the urge to cover herself, but then warmth seeped into her that made her wish the opposite.  That she could throw aside her clothes and let him touch every part of her body his eyes did.  “I had hoped they would have worked better.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the forlorn tone to his voice.  “It’s okay.  They are still beautiful
, and I have already found a use for them.”

He did not say anything, merely watched her as she took the
few remaining steps to stand within reach of him.  “I saw you playing with the baby.”

“That was William, the son of one of the kitchen maids.”

“I like that you will play with our children,” he said, looking down upon her.

Again her stomach made a flip and heat flushed her body
, as her heart began an erratic drumming in her ears.  “I will enjoy playing with our children.”

“I will enjoy making our children,” he said gruffly
, as he reached for her with lightning speed.  The hand that grabbed her by the back of her head was rough, but did not hurt her as he yanked her body against his.  She felt him, every inch of his hard heat as he trapped her against him.

His mouth crashed down on hers and he claimed her lips roughly
, and she felt the graze of his teeth as his power demanded she yield to him.  Then his fingers loosened and he cradled her head.  His lips softened, and his tongue came out to flick across her lips he had been rough with just a moment before.  She swayed into him, and she found his other hand at her back, supporting her.  His tongue caressed her lips for a moment, before it slowly entered hers, stroking, asking for her to open wider.  She gasped when he sucked her lower lip gently into his mouth, his tongue the lightest of touches before he released it.  Before she could recover his tongue plunged into her mouth, taking advantage of her vulnerability, and he coaxed her with it.  She was thankful that he now held her, for her knees would not support her.  His tongue receded, and she advanced tentatively with her own.  Gently he sucked it into his own mouth, and suddenly his hard body pressing into hers wasn’t enough.  She wanted to know more of him.  To feel him.  To feel that part of him, and to be filled by it.  The desire nearly drove her mad as he continued to work her into frenzy.

She groaned in frustration when he stepped away from her, he thoughtfully leaned her against the wall before doing so.  She could swear she saw a grin cross his face
, but could be unsure in the darkness of the night.  “Do you like the way I kiss you?” he asked.

Puzzled by the question she said, “I do.”  She wanted to tell him to come back to her for more
, but it might offend him. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“Not overly much.”

He seized her again and melded his lips to hers.  His teeth raked her lips, his tongue invaded her mouth
, and she sucked on it thrilled by the moan that he exhaled into her mouth.  Her hands came up to the back of his neck, and she pressed herself against him, demanding he give her more of what she did not know, but instinctively she knew this man held the key.  She felt the wall behind her back as he lifted her, bracing her against the cold stone.  His strong hands raised her skits, parting them enough so he was able to guide her legs around his hips.  She could feel him pressing himself against the most intimate of places.  He ground himself into her and she wrapped her legs around him tighter, urging him to take her into the unknown.  She gasped when a hand claimed her breast, his fingers going straight to her nipple, and plucking at it until she gasped.  A moan escaped her before he stepped backward, nearly making her fall before her feet were firmly planted beneath her.

“Tomorrow we will leave for Fenton.  When we arrive I will take you to my chamber
, and bury myself inside of you.  If I hurt you I do not want you to be afraid to tell me.  I will be as gentle as I can.”

Ryann could not think past
the statement that he would bury himself inside her.  She remembered the feeling of her legs wrapped around him only moments ago.  She realized in that instant she was not afraid.  She knew what was to come from Garrick would be totally different than Stroud’s men.  Garrick was her husband, her destiny, and he cared enough that he did not want to hurt her.  That was better than she had expected all these years from her husband, for Lenox had another reputation.  It had gotten back to her, even when she was too young to know what it meant.  The old man was reputed to be a selfish lover, and now she knew what that meant.  She wanted to pull Garrick back to learn what joys could be found within his arms, with him between her legs. 

He turned away from her then to gaze back out over the wall.  “Get you to bed, we will have an early morning.”