If Love Dares Enough (16 page)

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Authors: Anna Markland

BOOK: If Love Dares Enough
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He broke away, panting. “Come with me,” he growled, leading her by the hand out of the apple orchard.

Hugh had never been torn by so many conflicting emotions. The ache in his groin was unbearable. He was filled with anger and elation at the same time. If he ever had the opportunity he would kill Renouf de Maubadon for the damage wrought on Devona. But the monster hadn’t taken her most precious possession. That could yet belong to Hugh. He’d dreamt of making love to her to the point of obsession, but had never imagined her maidenhead might be his for the taking. He wanted to make love to her right there in the orchard, beneath the leafy trees teeming with birds, but thought better of it. This occasion merited a fine bed.

The sensations coursing through his body just from the touch of Devona’s hand were astonishing. He felt the alchemy of love and lust surge through him. It was no longer a detriment that he was a virgin. It had become the most important thing he had to offer her. By the time they reached his solar, he’d begun to realize he would have to calm his raging heart and loins or he would take her too quickly. This would be a once in a lifetime experience for them both and he wanted it to be memorable for her. Not only would he take her maidenhead, it would be the first time intimacy and love would be joined in her body.

He put his hands on her shoulders, careful not to grip her too tightly, and took a deep breath. “I want to make love to you, Devona. If it’s not what you want, tell me now. I would prefer death rather than take you against your will.”

“I am afraid, Hugh. I cannot deny it.”

His heart plummeted.

“But it isn’t you I’m afraid of. It’s myself. I don’t know how to—please a man. I’ve never been able to please Renouf.”

Hugh’s anger threatened, but he restrained the inclination to allow his voice to betray his fury. He swallowed hard before he said, “Renouf is a pig. Pigs are never satisfied. It’s in their nature. We will learn together how to please each other.”

Devona nodded shyly and smiled. His heart soared. “May I undress you, Lady Devona Melton?”

“Yes,
milord
Hugh de Montbryce,” she whispered. He could see the need in her green eyes.

Taking her by the hand, he led her to sit on the edge of his bed. Kneeling before her, he slowly lifted her skirt and folded it back against her thighs. The sight of her knees and calves sent sparks of desire coursing along his spine. He kissed one knee, then the other and stroked his hands down the backs of her legs. He felt her quiver. She put her fingers in his hair and kneaded his scalp, her breathing uneven. He unlaced her leather shoes and removed her garters then peeled off her silk stockings. He felt her shudder as he kissed her toes. He mused that one day, when his needs weren’t so pressing, he would wile away a pleasant hour kissing her toes.

“Hugh,” she breathed, leaning back on her elbows.

“Your feet are cold, my love,” he teased. “Let me warm them.”

Her feet were so dainty, his hands covered them. He rose up on his knees and pressed his chest against her feet. She bent her legs slightly, but kept her knees together. He caught a shadowed glimpse of her dark triangle. He slid his hands from her feet up to her knees and then down her thighs, forcing the fabric of her overdress to bunch around her hips. Standing, he angled his body over hers, put his hands around her waist, pressing his chest to the apex at the top of her legs and picked her up off the bed. She groaned as her body slid down his until his shaft was resting against her warm cleft. He folded his arms around her and held her to his body, gently rocking his arousal against her. She was keening mewling cries.

“Let me take off your wimple. I want to see your glorious hair,” he whispered.

She reached up to help him unwind the cloth from her head. Even through the fabric of their clothing he felt her nipples hard against his chest. He groaned as she tossed the wimple to the floor and he caught the faint scent of female arousal.

“Your hair is like silk,” he rasped, burying his face in it, breathing deeply.

His erection was rock hard, but in his heart he still felt nothing but love and tenderness for this woman. A lead weight had been lifted off his soul. He knelt on one knee to grasp the hem of her dress and in one fluid motion lifted it over her head. She raised her arms and they slid out of the long sleeves as the fabric swished against her skin. She stood before him in her thin linen chemise, raven hair falling over her shoulders to her waist. He licked his lips and reached for the fabric at the top of her chemise, intending to peel it down her body. He longed to see her breasts, longed to know the colour of her nipples.

She arched her back, but pulled away from him, shaking her head. He thought he might go mad when he believed she was refusing him at this point.

“Wait, my love,” she whispered. “I want to undress you.”

His knees went weak. He coughed as she pushed him gently to sit on the edge of the bed. She knelt down and unlaced the cross garters of his boots, gradually easing them off. She untied the tops of his woollen knee socks and freed his feet. His erection throbbed mercilessly.

“You have long toes,” she murmured, tracing her fingers over them. “I noticed them on the beach at Melton.” When she pressed his feet to her breasts, he cried out, “
Dieu!
You’re killing me, Devona.”

She rose up on her knees, as he had done, and after a quick glance into his eyes, laid her flushed cheek against his arousal, kneading his hips with her fingers. Her breasts rubbed his thighs, and he wondered if she could feel the blood throbbing in his manhood. She raised her head and smiled at him. Before he knew it, her dainty hands had untied his points and she was peeling off his leggings. Coming to his feet, he tore off his doublet and shirt. They clung to each other. All that stood between them now was her chemise and his braies.

“Take off my braies,” he rasped.

She put her hands on his waist and curled her fingers into the linen. His shaft sprang free as she coaxed the garment over his hips. She gasped, and he saw a flicker of apprehension in her eyes as she gazed at him. He stepped out of his braies, took her hand and placed it on his manhood. His whole body was on fire.

“It’s for you, Devona, only for you. But if you’re afraid, we can stop.”

If we stop now, I’ll go mad.

She shook her head. “If we stop now, Hugh, I’ll go mad.”

It came to him seconds later that he’d torn off her chemise with too much force, but she seemed not to care. He gasped when he saw her wine red nipples, and had his mouth on them before he could think. He suckled her and she keened his name as his tongue licked and sucked. She inhaled deeply when he bit her gently.

They fell together on to the bed and she laughed. He kissed her on the lips, his tongue pressing for entry. “Open your sweet mouth for me,” he growled. As he explored the warmth of her mouth, the texture of her teeth and tongue, his hand cupped her breast. He rolled the rock hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger and she arched up off the bed.

She tore her mouth from his, gasping for breath, her eyes wide. “
Godemite
, Hugh, what was that? I’m so wet.”

He groaned. “That was your first taste of ecstasy. If Antoine is to be believed, it pales in comparison to what comes next. Now I want my taste of it.”

His fingers trailed down over her belly to her wet heat and she gasped as his fingers found her bud and he rubbed gently. His mind filled with an image of his shaft plunging into the hot wetness he felt on his hand as he pressed his palm against her and slid his finger inside.

He looked at her face as she trembled and writhed. Her eyes were closed and she was moving her head from side to side, making noises he’d never heard her make before. He heard a deep guttural sound and realized it had burst forth from his own throat as his manhood penetrated her maidenhead and he found his shaft sheathed in her warm, tight grip. She was still pulsating from her earlier release. Had she cried out when he breached her? Had he hurt her? He gritted his teeth and stopped moving.

“Did I hurt you?” he breathed into her ear. “Do you need me to stop?”

“You cannot stop now,” she growled.

He didn’t know which throbbed more, his head, his heart or his shaft. His deep need took hold of him. He lifted Devona’s arms above her head, entwined his fingers in hers and pressed her hands into the bolster. He bent to flick his tongue over each hard nipple, and felt her spasm on his engorged flesh. He withdrew slowly until the head of his shaft was just inside her, then plunged deeply again. He gazed into her eyes as he thrust over and over, feeling the heat building inside her. She matched his rhythm and her eyes glazed over as they both lost control and fell into an abyss of euphoria. In a blinding moment of clarity he withdrew and spilled his seed on her belly. He offered up a silent prayer of thanks to God that this woman had been sent to deliver him from his demons. At last he was a whole man. He collapsed on top of her, his whole body filled with a contented bliss he’d never known.

As conscious thought returned, he rolled over, taking her with him so she was cradled in his arms, her hair spilling over them both. “Sorry, I’m so heavy,” he whispered, kissing her neck.

“You’re not a burden, Hugh. You have freed me.”

So immense was his happiness, he thought his heart might burst. It would be better still when he could claim this woman completely and spill his seed inside her.

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

When Devona awoke, she was still lying atop Hugh. She felt sticky. She’d drooled on his shoulder, like a baby. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d slept so soundly, and had no notion of how long they’d been asleep. She inhaled the scent of his body—Hugh’s scent, unique to him. His steady breathing told her he was still sleeping, but when she moved her hand to wipe her mouth, he ran his hand through her hair. She felt his manhood stir.

“Devona,” he whispered, turning her body gently so they were facing each other and she saw the love in his eyes.

She reached up to tuck a strand of his long hair behind his ear. He took hold of her hand, kissed her palm, and then placed her hand on his arousal. “I need you again,” he growled. “I’ll never get enough of you.” He smiled. “You’ve turned me into a rutting beast.”

She saw him frown then as he realized what he’d said. He was instantly contrite, scrambling up and sitting cross-legged in front of her. He took her hands. “I didn’t mean that as it sounded.”

“I know, Hugh. It’s all right. My desire for you has turned me into a ravenous hoyden as well.”

He glanced down and saw the sheen of his seed on her belly and the blood on her thighs, and on his own body. She felt her face flush, but he leapt up and went to fetch a cloth and water from the dresser. He handed her the wet cloth and she cleansed herself and then brushed his hand away as he reached for the linen. As he stood by the side of the bed, she knelt and washed him. She used her hair to dry him and pecked a kiss on the end of his swelling shaft. She gasped as she realized she had put her mouth on him.

He took hold of her wrist as she looked away. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I kissed you. I kissed you—there,” she stammered.

“You can kiss my manhood whenever you wish, my lady,” he jested, but became serious when he saw the tears well in her eyes. “It’s all right. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Many women take their men in their mouths. I’d love—”

She knew he’d stopped because he suddenly recognized the truth of the torment she had borne. He gathered her to his body. “I will kill him.”

They stayed locked in each other’s embrace for long moments before he spoke again. She could tell he was struggling to control his anger. “I’ll never ask you to do anything you don’t wish to, Devona. I swear it to you.”

She nodded. “But I wanted to kiss you there, Hugh. I wanted to put my mouth on you. Renouf would never let me touch him. Not that I wanted to. He used to tie my hands behind my back, so I couldn’t—”

Hugh’s eyes widened in understanding and he suddenly grasped her hands and smoothed his thumbs over the red marks still visible on her wrists. “I never wanted to think how these marks came about,” he growled. “I remember the marigold.”

“I wondered if you could smell it,” she laughed.

“I’ll never forget it,” he rasped. “It roused me.”

Feeling something coil deep in her belly she pushed his shoulder gently. “Lay back. Let me kiss you again.”

His erection bucked as she knelt between his legs and feathered her lips to the tip of his shaft. He was bigger than Renouf, thicker, silkier—more beautiful. She swirled her tongue around him. He inhaled a shuddering breath and put his hands on her shoulders. She felt her body weep for him as tears of passion filled her cleft. She curled her hand around the base of his maleness and moved her hand on him.

“I’m about to swear in Saxon again,” he growled with a grin. She saw the need in his blue eyes. An urge to devour him surged through her and she took him wholly in her mouth.


Godemite!
” he groaned. “Be gentle with me, wench. I’m new at this.”

Devona was filled with a sense of power she’d never known. Now she was the one in control and it was euphoric. She moved her mouth on him, mimicking the thrusting that had enthralled him earlier, one hand moving against the root, the other caressing his sack. Renouf had never allowed her to put her hands on him, preferring his own rough touch. She couldn’t believe she had no desire to retch. All she wanted was to fulfill this man’s needs.

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