Once Upon a Kiss (24 page)

Dominique
cried out, tensing, though only for an instant, for the shock of his intimacy faded
at once with the incredible sensations that burst through her, aroused by his
suckling. Whimpering, she arched beneath him, writhing, weeping with the
inconceivable emotions that swept over her.

Oh,
God, but she was wicked... wicked... wicked...

Her hands
locked about his head, holding him fast to suckle at her breast, while beneath
him, her body began to undulate of its own accord. He moved down slowly,
alternately nipping at and kissing her breasts.

In all
her life, she’d never felt more confused... more certain of anything...

She
needed him.

Blaec
groaned with pleasure when she accepted him so fully, raising her breast for
him. He suckled her, moving against her in euphoria, knowing he should stop,
but unable to force himself to do so.

It was
as though his body were not his own.

He
reveled in the taste of her flesh—delicious even through the fine linen
cloth of her
chainse
—
the warmth of her body, the long length of her legs against his own.

It was
too much for him to bear.

His
hands, flexing, slid down along her delectable curves, slowly, savoring every
inch of her, committing her to memory... for somewhere in his
half-consciousness, he understood... this could not happen again.

But
this once...

He
could not stop.

He
could not have torn himself away from her even had someone stood above him with
sword in hand, ready to plunge it between his shoulder blades.

Gladly
he would die for this moment.

God
strike him down, but he would not stop.

Dominique
was only vaguely aware that he lifted her
chainse
, but she welcomed it... wanted to feel
his mouth on her bare flesh... his hands... though with a desperation that
dismayed her, she fought the separation of their bodies, clinging to him as
though she would die with their parting.

And God’s truth... she thought she might

Unable
to remove her gown, Blaec gripped the neckline instead, rending it savagely,
jerking the offending garment from between them once and for all.

The
shock of bodily contact was absolute.

He
groaned in torment at the feel of her bare breasts arching against him, her
pebbled nipples rising to brush his chest... her warmth, her softness.

Like a
man possessed, he rocked against her, losing himself a little more with every
mindless undulation. He could not see her, but he could feel her, and she felt
exquisite.

“Beautiful,”
he whispered. The feel of her was ecstasy. “My God, you are beautiful.” And if
he didn’t bare himself at once, he thought he would go mad. He fumbled between
them for the ties that bound his breeches, and shrugged out of them, gasping
aloud as he freed himself, at last. Reaching down, he hooked his arms beneath
her knees, raising her legs.

She was
a vixen... her brother’s whore... and she incited him to madness—best the
truth be discovered sooner than later, he told himself. For his brother’s sake.
The woman beneath him could not possibly be pure. The fire within her burned
too hotly for him to believe it had never been kindled before.

In all
likelihood his brother had already discovered that fact, and that was why he’d
ordered her out of his chamber.

With
that last piercing thought, he positioned himself against her, holding her legs
up for his pleasure. He didn’t care. He wanted her to take him deeply, sheathe
him wholly. She moaned beneath him in abandon, writhing in expectation of his
entrance into her body.

Well,
she need wait no longer, he thought viciously.

Nor
could he.

He slid
the tip of his shaft easily within her, and then surged down against her,
groaning with the exquisite tightness of her body as it sheathed him.

Dominique
cried out with the pain of his intrusion, going still beneath him. Her body
began a cold sweat, but she clenched her teeth and bore it, knowing the
pleasure would come again. Alyss had told her so.

She
knew it instinctively as well.

Above
her, Blaec, too, went wholly still.

“Damn
you,” he muttered. At once he began to withdraw, but the pain was already
fading, and Dominique could not bear for him to leave her now.

Now
they were just beginning...

Now she was just
beginning...

She
wrapped her legs about his waist, holding him in that ageless lover’s embrace.

“Damn
me,” he whispered. “Damn me... damn me... God forgive me,” he said, and lowered
himself against her once more, rocking her gently, letting her adjust to his
size, his arms trembling with restraint.

Dominique’s
fingers skimmed the taut muscles of his arms. Instinctively she wrapped her
arms around his shoulders, stroking his back, reveling in the width of his
muscled shoulders, the heat of his body. Without thinking, she drew his head
down to hers, craving his kisses fiercely.

He
responded at once, as though he understood what she needed. His tongue flicked
out, brushing her lips, and Dominique opened to him wholly. When he teased her
mouth, she suckled his tongue, tentatively offering her own in return. His
response was a low, guttural moan.

With
that small victory, she whimpered softly, wanting him to move against her
again... as he had before. Mindlessly she rocked against him.

“Dominique…”
He reached down between them, stilling the movement of her hips with his hands.
“Stop,” he rasped, and tried once more to withdraw.

Dominique
followed him with her hips, forcing him deeper inside her. Crying out when he
withdrew again, farther this time, she grasped the sheets, and followed him
stubbornly.

“Dominique,”
he cautioned, withdrawing once more, so that the tip of his shaft was all that
remained. “You cannot know...”

“I do,”
she murmured breathlessly. “I do...” Feeling never more brazen, she locked her
legs about his waist and surged upward, crying out as he filled her completely.
“I do,” she whispered euphorically.

Tendrils
of heat slithered through her forbidden regions, making her cry out in triumph.

Never
had she imagined such sensations possible.

Never
had she dreamed.

“I
cannot stop,” he warned her now. “I can—not!” With a harsh cry of his
own, he withdrew and surged forward again.

“Yes!”
she cried. She did not want him to leave her. She never wanted him to leave
her. She wanted this never to end. She wanted him to fill her this way always.

Just
now, there was no world, only the two of them.

There
was no betrothal, no brother, no daylight.

Only
the two of them. And the darkness.

Tomorrow
was soon enough to consider those things.

Tonight
she could only think of this. Right now. This incredible sensation that tore
through her, pulling her into a whirlwind of unconscious feeling. Clutching the
bed sheets desperately as he moved against her, rocked her, Dominique sobbed
softly, welcoming him.

Christ... was he
mad?

She was
his brother’s bride.

At the
very least, he could not spill himself within her.
Do not,
he commanded himself. It would
be the final betrayal—though God curse him, he could not stop!

She moved
against him with complete abandon, and he could not stop.

He was
powerless to resist.

Once
more he tried in vain to unsheathe himself, and was undone by the silky
softness of her. He lost all control then, thrusting savagely, filling her, and
withdrawing. When her body tightened and convulsed about him, he arched his
head backward, crying out, a guttural, tormented sound.

Beneath
him, Dominique sobbed with her own release, her body convulsing, coaxing his
seed from him, demanding his surrender.

With a
last powerful thrust, Blaec spilled himself deep inside her.

And
still it was not enough.

He
clutched her buttocks, pressing her tightly against his body, undulating once
more, and once more, and once more, driving his seed into the depths of her
body.

And
even then he could not stop.

Tonight,
against all morality, he’d made her his own... and he could not blame the wine.

He was
weak and without honor.

And the
fault was wholly his own.

Tomorrow
the price of his sin would be weighed in the full light of day.

But
tonight, for the first time since his youth, his eyes glazed with tears. With a
low, harsh cry, he collapsed atop her, holding her tightly... burying himself
within the silence and the darkness.

God
help him, his father had been right.

Morning
rays streamed through the open shutters, spilling golden light into Dominique’s
face. Yet the light was not what first awoke her. From the bailey came the
shouts and sounds of men and horses, the chinking and clanging of armor, the
neighing of restless mounts.

The
next thing she became aware of was the hand cradling her bare breast... and the
soreness between her legs. Her heart lurched as sultry images from the night
before came back to plague her. She winced, biting into her lower lip, and
shielding her eyes with a hand, stole a glance at the other occupant of the
bed. Seeing him lying there beside her, she knew it had not been a dream, and
she was at once filled with conflicting emotions—too many to recount.

His
eyes were as yet closed, and he lay upon his belly with one arm thrown over her,
pinning her to the bed. The palm of his hand cupped one breast. Sweet Jesu,
even now, without so much as trying, his touch stirred her body. She tried not
to note the contrasts of their skin, his dark hand against her pale
flesh—tried not to focus on the feel of his battle-hardened hands upon
her smooth body.

She
looked, instead, at his face. In sleep, his expression lost much of its
harshness. Even the scar upon his cheek was less visible somehow. Wondering
again how he’d received it, she stifled the urge to reach out and touch it,
afraid that the moment would come to an end.

Would
he awake despising her once more?

Or
would his eyes gaze at her tenderly?

She was
afraid to discover the truth. Afraid because she knew that no matter how he
felt about her now—even did he loathe her—she could no longer deny
her own heart. She’d given herself freely to him last night, and the worst part
of it was that now, in the morning light, she could not even find proper
regret.

She was
no different from her mother, loving a man she could not have.

Yet at
least now she understood.

With a
sleepy groan, he flexed his hand suddenly, squeezing her breast, a lazy though
reverent gesture. Dominique bit down into her lip, suppressing the telltale
moan his touch roused.

And then
his eyes flew wide as he heard the heavy, grating sound of the portcullis as it
rose. Within the space of seconds, he bounded from the bed to the window. Try
as she might, Dominique could not avert her eyes from his nude form as he stood
looking through the open shutters. He was a stunning masculine specimen, his
buttocks and legs as well muscled as his chest—more so.

“Damn
me to hell!” he said furiously.

He spun
to face her, completely uninhibited in his naked state, his green eyes impaling
her. By his expression, Dominique knew the situation was grave.

She sat
at once, searching for her gown. Finding it in shreds, she flushed, and lifted
the linen sheet to her bosom instead. “What is it?” she asked fearfully. He
didn’t respond, save to come to the bed. He snapped the sheet about, jerking it
from her in his fury as he searched for his clothing.