The Dark One: Dark Knight (61 page)

     She wanted to touch him as he was touching
her, but his attentions soon rendered her quite powerless to do anything other
than lie back and enjoy it.  At one point, she dozed off as he was planting
soft kisses on her back and awoke to find that he was still kissing her, only
he had moved to her feet.  With a stretch and a smile, she parted her thighs
and welcomed him deep inside her.

     She still found it hard to believe that
this massive, powerful man was hers, body and soul. Every time she touched his
perfect body, she was filled with wonder and awe anew.  To see him looming over
her with his beauty and grace boggled her mind.

     They climaxed together no less than five
times that night, mayhap more that she did not remember, because Remington was
so exhausted by the time the sun rose that she drifted off into a deep sleep
still cradled in Gaston's arms.  She was so tired she barely recalled, other
than the feeling of complete happiness, the exact details.  They lay in a tight
clinch, her thighs still wrapped around him and his shaft still buried within
her.

     Gaston slept, too.  He knew there was much
to do this day, but he couldn’t bear to part with her.  That was why he had
generals, was it not to carry on in his stead?  Let Arik and his cousins handle
the men; right now, he only wanted to think and feel Remington.

     It was noon before he awoke. Remington was
pressed up against him, sound asleep, and he found himself warming to her once
again.  His great organ, heavy and flaccid, suddenly sprang to life as his
hands drifted down her back.

     Remington stirred at his touch, feeling his
arousal brushing up against her buttocks.  Her legs were still wrapped around
his hips and when she tried to move, she moaned softly in agony. 

     He smiled, shifted as she lowered her stiff
legs.  “Why do you move? You will only be in the same position in but a
moment.”

     She grinned, a delightful sleepy, grin. 
“How bold you are, my lord.  Wasn't last night enough for you? I would think
you were bled dry by now.”

     He snorted.  “Was it enough for you?”

     Her eyes opened, the sea-crystal color as
pure as the air.  “I will never have enough of you.”

     He stroked her face tenderly, his lips
nibbling on the sweet line of her chin.  She was hot for him, her body already
highly attuned to his.  Taking his hand, she placed it on her wet heat and he
groaned low in his throat.

     He grew rougher, more demanding, and she
came alive.  The wound and her fatigue were forgotten as she responded to him
with rekindled intensity.  Mouths open, tongues entwined, they tasted and
teased and clashed, hands kneading and caressing.  Gaston rolled onto his back,
taking her with him, and she was on fire with the feel of his throbbing organ
against her thigh.

     Her mouth left his, sucking and kissing his
magnificent chest as his huge hands wound themselves in her silken curls.  She
bit at his nipples just as he bit at hers and he laughed softly. She paused but
to raise a wicked eyebrow at him before her hot hands were on his massive
shaft, stroking his organ firmly and cupping his egg-sized testicles.

     She knew what she was doing and he did not
stop to think how she had become so adept; his eyes rolled back into his head
and when her hot, wet mouth came down on him, he growled like a tiger.  It was
Remington’s turn to laugh.

     He could take naught but a few seconds of
her touch before he was pulling her up by the hair, his mouth fusing to hers. 
They tumbled, rolled, grasped and touched until they rolled their way off the
bed and onto the floor.  Remington was so aroused she was panting loudly with
each breath, her body on fire like she had never known.  She knew they were on
the floor and did not particularly care, but as she stood to climb back on the
bed, Gaston bent her over the mattress and drove into her from behind.

     She cried out loudly from his sudden, act
of control and domination.  Her face was pressed into the bed, her taut nipples
brushing against the covers as Gaston's strength plowed into her repeatedly. 
She was begging for a release, pleading with him to relieve her pain when he
suddenly withdrew completely.  Remington's head came up to question him, but no
sooner did she raise her head than he was placing firm pressure against her
second maidenhead, her anus, and her question was cut off by a loud, rattling
moan from deep in her throat.

     He relieved her, all right.  No sooner did
he enter her than she climaxed violently and collapsed in a heap.  He
completely supported her hips with his hands, driving himself into her with
more satisfaction than he had ever thought possible.  He erupted turbulently,
spilling himself with unbelievable force.

     Shaken and breathing as if he had just run
the entire distance from London to Mt. Holyoak, he pulled Remington up against
his sweaty body and then collapsed with her onto the bed.

     Neither one of them spoke for some time. 
Gaston was actually speechless and Remington was basking in the most wonderful,
intimate act they had shared yet.  She was in heaven.

     “I never knew,” she murmured against his
chest.

     “Nor did I, angel,” he agreed fervently. 
He meant it.

     She raised her head.  “Guy tried to force
me to have sex with him as we just did, but he hurt me terribly.  With
you….Good Lord, I have difficultly believing the sweetness.”

     He kissed her, not knowing what to say. 
Words had never been too terribly easy for him and he wasn't sure he could
accurately convey his feelings to her.  He was afraid his voice would crack
with emotion.

     She was smiling at him, listening to the
faint sounds of the bailey below.  “You have duties that await, my lord?”

     He heard the sounds, too, and passed a
disinterested look toward the slit window.  “Aye, I suppose so.”

     She looked regretful.  “A pity we cannot
stay here all day.  And all night.  And all day.”

     He snorted.  “We'd kill each other, I
fear.  I'd die a young, but very happy, man.  Not a bad suggestion at that.”

     She laughed, and then cuddled back against
him with a happy sigh.  “As it is, I fear our passion may have come to bear.”

     He knew exactly what she was saying and she
felt him stiffen beneath her.   “Remi...?” he asked hesitantly.

     “I am not completely sure,” she said
truthfully.  “But my menses are usually quite regular and... well, it's past my
time by a few days.”

     He sat up so fast she yelped with
surprise.  His smoky eyes were wide.  “You are carrying my son?”

     “I do not know,” she repeated, unsure of
his reaction.  But it is possible.  I wanted to tell you so that you would not
be surprised if... if I have news for you in the future.”

     He stared at her, dumbfounded.  She pursed
her lips, half in irritation, half in uncertainty. “Surely the thought had
crossed your mind, Gaston.  After all, we have had several encounters and after
last night, quite possibly your seed has found its mark.  What did you think
would happen if you kept me abed as you have?  Nothing?”

     He read her annoyance at his silence and
put up his hand to ease her.  “Nay, angel, it's not that.  It's just that…I
never thought we would be so blessed.  Not this soon, at any rate.”

     She was puzzled, some of her anger abating.
“And why not?” He shrugged, looking away. “I do not know.  I just did not.  It
took Mari-Elle several years to become pregnant with Trenton and she always
accused me of having impotent seed.  I did not believe her, of course, but
somehow the thought always stuck with me.''

     She still could not tell if he was pleased
or not.  “If what I suspect is true, then your seed is anything but impotent. 
To have planted it within my womb within a matter of weeks is a testimony to
your virility, my love,” she eyed him hesitantly.  “Are you not pleased, then?”

     His gaze snapped to her and he cupped her
lovely face between his great hands. When he spoke, his voice quivered.  Remi,
if it is true, then you have made me the happiest man on the face of the
earth.  If I loved you before, madam, a child would only add to this impossible
dream.”

     She broke into a wide, beautiful smile,
kissing him eagerly.  He responded with fierce tenderness, pulling her against
him and tasting her sweetness.

     “I must confess something, Gaston,” she said
after a moment.  “I, too, thought I was somewhat infertile.  In the entire time
Guy and I have been married, I only conceived once.  Guy blamed the lack of
heirs on me, of course, and when Jasmine conceived, it only reinforced his
accusations.  If this is true….if I truly bear your child, then I am as amazed
as you are.”

     He looked at her thoughtfully.  “Mayhap it
wasn't us after all.  Mayhap it was them all along, looking to cast the blame
elsewhere for their shortcomings.”

     She nodded hopefully, wildly happy in his
arms.  It had only been a few days since her menses had failed to appear, and
in truth, she had been a bit apprehensive.  But no more.  If there was a God,
she prayed to him awkwardly that she was indeed pregnant with the Dark One's
child.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

     Gaston put off their departure for an
entire week.  He had troops to train, a keep to run, and had little if any time
for the papal envoy.  The fat little man was outraged at the delays, and since
Gaston refused to see him, he managed to corner Remington one day in the
downstairs corridor and lay into her like an enraged father.

     Remington, deeply upset by the man's words,
ran straight to Gaston and found him outside with his new soldiers.  It was
early afternoon and the hot August sun beat down upon the suffering males as
they went through their paces.

     The knights were out of armor, stripped
naked to the waist as they paced among the columns of men as they practiced
quick placement of shields.  The troops were in mail, sweating rivers, and
already they had lost half a dozen men to heat exhaustion.

     Remington stood by the inner bailey gates,
her misty eyes searching for Gaston.  He was not difficult to locate; the
largest man by far in the middle of a collection of men, his bronzed skin and
red-kissed shoulders standing a head and a half above the rest.

     Arik caught sight of her before Gaston did
and greeted her pleasantly.  The two had developed a genuine like for each
other within the past week.

     “What brings you out here on this hellish
day, madam?” he asked.

     “I must speak with Gaston,” she said,
wiping daintily at her nose.  “That damnable envoy just gave me an earful in
the hall.  I would tell Gaston.”

     Arik frowned.  “Was he deliberately rude? 
Was he harsh?”

     She was verging on a pout.  “He's an
arrogant little bastard.  Is Gaston too busy to speak with me now, Arik?”

     “Never,” Arik bade her to stay where she
was as he sought Gaston on her behalf.

     Watching him walk toward her across the
hot, dusty bailey brought a rush of warmth to her cheeks.  He moved so
gracefully and with such presence that she felt her knees go weak at the mere
sight of him. 
I want for you to be my husband
.  The familiar chant
filled her, only this time he echoed the sentiment.  He was hers.

     “What's amiss, angel?” he asked with
concern.  “Arik said you were upset?”

     She nodded.  “The envoy cornered me not a
few minutes ago and demanded that I be ready to leave by the morning.  He says
he will not wait any longer; if I am not ready to leave on the morrow, he will
return to London alone and tell Henry that you deliberately disobeyed the
king.  I think he means what he says, Gaston.”

     Gaston's face hardened.  She could see him
thinking, for his eyes took on a distant look even though he was focused on
her.  “Where is he now?”

     “Inside,” she flipped her hand carelessly
in the general direction of the castle.  “Somewhere.  I hope he trips on his
ecclesiastical robes and breaks his neck.”

     He grunted, a half grin on his lips. “I
shall speak with him.  Go inside now, love.  ‘Tis too hot outside for you.”

     She sighed, glancing up at the brilliant
blue sky.  “I cannot remember such heat.  Rory wants to go swimming; will that
be very well?”

     Gaston glanced over his shoulder at his
men, nodding faintly.  “I suppose I could spare Nicolas to take you.”