The Spymaster's Protection (28 page)

“I am going back to camp to dress. Please, do not follow!” Her
voice was choked with tears as she reached blindly for her tunic.

“Nay!” Behind her, Lucien’s voice was firm in its resolve.
Gabrielle turned to look at his shadowy shape as he stepped toward her. Her arm
shot out to halt him.

“Come back to me, Gabi. If it is those scars you are afraid to
let me see, know that I have seem most of them already. They bear testimony to
your courage and perseverance. They should not shame you.”

“Oh, Lucien, they represent years of humiliating punishment. I
am
ashamed!”

“God’s blood!”

Anger laced his curse, but there was no thread of impatience
or censure. Despite that, Gabrielle took a step backwards. Lucien advanced
anyway, and when his hand came out to reach for her, she ducked. Damnable
habit! Even after five years of relative freedom from Reynald and Armand, she
still reacted to a man’s anger like a coward!

“Aw, Gabi,” he murmured. “Do not be afraid of me.” His grasp
was infinitely gentle as her rational mind had known it would be. “Your scars
do not tell me you were a coward,” he reassured her, pulling her into the
closing circle of his arms. “You are the bravest, most honorable woman I have
ever met. And I will never raise a hand to you. Never!”

She knew that, and she did trust him. She forced old fears
away and lifted her arms, rising onto her toes to lock her hands behind his
thick neck. She tilted her head back to tell him so, but before she could utter
a word, he bent his down to kiss her.

Her lips parted instantly and his tongue swept inside to take
her mouth in searing hunger. It was a passionately possessive kiss, and it told
her more than words ever could how beautiful he found her and how much he
desired her.

Lucien groaned deeply as he slid his hands down her
half-clothed body to cup her buttocks and press her even more tightly against
his linen draped hips. The hard ridge of his erection thrust against her, and
he reveled in the shivering moan he drug from her. God forgive him! He could not
hold himself from her tonight! He needed her like he had never needed anything
before.

Forcing himself to release her, he hurriedly gathered their
scattered clothing, then came back to her, and with a low growl, scooped her up
into his arms. After dropping the wet clothing onto her lap, he strode through
the chamber and the corridor with her. Along the way, he grabbed the torch he
had stuck into a crevice in the rock wall.

Gabrielle hung on with one arm hooked around his neck and one
arm securing their clothing. His haste made her smile and she buried her face
in the salty wet curve of his neck.

In the cavern where they had camped, Lucien set her on his
feet, secured the torch in the wall, then blew it out, and quickly returned.
Gabrielle watched him, enchanted by his eagerness for her. Dear Lord! No man
had ever looked at her so tenderly and yet so desirously.

She untied the drawstring on her low-hanging pants and eased
out of them. Then she turned to drape their wet clothing over a large boulder
near the embers of their dying fire.

When she turned back around to Lucien, she lifted her eyes
slowly, nervously aware of her nudity. He, too, had dispensed with his wet
braies.

She watched him close the space between them and felt herself
simmering with need. It was absolutely new to her! She had never
wanted
this before! Coupling had brought only fear and pain.

But her heart told her there wouldn’t be any pain with this
man, despite his great size. Through a haze of anticipation, she saw his proud
manhood thrusting rigidly from the dark curly thatch of hair at his groin.
Thank God, Reynald had not been this large! Combined with his brutality….

Lord, she did not want to think of her loathsome husband ever
again! He had ceased being her husband the day he had first lifted a hand to
her. There was no adultery here. She had not felt married in a very, very long
time.

This man was all she would ever need to feel whole and
fulfilled. She whispered his name as he stepped up to her. His arms slipped
around her with a sigh of profound relief.

“From the moment you first said my name, and I saw how it
formed on your lips, I have wanted to kiss you when you said it. Say it for me
again.”

She answered his plea, and his mouth swooped down to capture
hers. Groaning, he slid hot and slow between her teeth. The swirl of his tongue
against hers felt absolutely decadent. He kissed her as if he was starving for
the taste of her, and Gabrielle tasted back, melting into his ever-tightening
embrace.

Slowly, he sank to his knees before her, kissing her as he
went. Gabrielle shivered with pleasure as his mouth began its sensuous trek. He
didn’t linger long in any one place, but set her to breathtaking anticipation
of the next spot his skillful lips would explore.

His large hands nearly circled her waist as he lowered his
mouth to her hips. Gabrielle gasped when his knuckles brushed the triangle of
hair between her legs. This was another first, and she wasn’t sure what to do.
He gave her no quarter and no time to debate with herself before he opened her
legs and grasped her buttocks.

Then his mouth and tongue found her. She wanted to die of
embarrassment and pleasure all at the same time.

“Lucien?”

“Shhh…. Let it happen, my love,” he murmured, his words
muffled against her lower body.

“Oh, Lord….” She cried out again as a bolt of white hot desire
shot through her.

His tongue found the little nub of desire he had so skillfully
stroked the other night. Again and again, he probed and tasted, coaxing her
acceptance of his lovemaking with tender caresses and whispered encouragements
that vibrated through her loins in shock waves of mind-numbing pleasure.

Gabrielle could not resist. Quivering, she wove her fingers
into his thick damp hair and curled them around his head to clutch him close.
Without willing it so, her hips began to rotate and rock, responding
instinctively to the throbbing that intensified moment by moment. She knew what
she was striving for now; that little death Lucien had already shown her once.

It teased the fringes of her consciousness, but she didn’t
want to go there without him. “Lucien, please! I need you inside of me this
time.”

His deep husky growl sent shock waves through her loins, all
the way to her toes. Trembling like a leaf now, she collapsed to her knees in
front of him. He caught her and eased her backwards onto their blankets.

“God, how I want you, Gabi!” he groaned as he came down on top
of her, between her legs. “I’ve been aching for you for weeks.”

The slip and slide of their damp bodies was delicious.
Gabrielle arched beneath him and clutched him as tightly as she could. He did
not have to ask her to open her legs wider for him. She urged him with words
and gestures to enter her immediately. In truth, she was surprised to find
herself going a little wild beneath him. She had not thought desire could drive
a woman so, especially not her.

She heard him chuckle and knew he felt her urgency and was
pleased by it. Tilting her hips up to him as the maddening crescendo threatened
to overtake her, she cried out with relief when he slid into her with one deep
smooth stroke. Arching into him, she rose to meet his every thrust after that,
clinging to him with her legs hugging his hips, digging her nails into his
hard-as-rocks buttocks.

“You hold me so tight,” he murmured against her ear. “Mon
Dieu! You feel good around me, so good….”

Gabrielle smiled, then gasped as he began to pump himself into
her faster and harder. She cried out again, teetering on an abyss of pleasure
so deep, she thought she truly might die from it. She was dizzy with it. The
world felt as if it was spinning faster than she could cope with, but it was
like flying, as well; like soaring far above the earth.

And she was not alone. Lucien was there with her, holding on
tight, whispering endearments, guiding her to a perfect state of being. With a
cry of joy, she spun away with him. Her cry was followed almost instantly by
his husky male shout as his big body spasmed and shuddered.

Then to her great dismay, he jerked out of her, spilling his seed
onto her belly. When he collapsed on top of her, she wrapped her arms around
him and stroked his head, then his back until he stopped his violent quaking.

For a long time, his breathing was labored and ragged. He had
spent himself with such a great deal of emotion, Gabrielle wondered if their
lovemaking had done this to him, or if it had simply been his abstinence. She
was compelled to ask.

“It has been a long time,” he confirmed. “Nearly six years.
When I was in Damascus, I was not always faithful to my vows.” Pushing up on
his arms, he eased off of her and shifted to lie next to her, on his side.
“Living on my own for so long …. Well,” he said with a self-derisive chuckle.
“It was hard to resist temptation sometimes.”

“Arabian women can be very beautiful with all their silks and
dark kohl painted eyes.” Gabrielle tried to hide her disappointment that it had
not been her alone that had driven him to such a forceful spending of his body.

His long, well-tapered fingers idly stroked the slender length
of her bare arm. “Not as beautiful as you, Gabi. I’ve never seen a woman as
beautiful as you.”

She rolled her eyes and frowned. “Now you exaggerate.”

“I do not.” His face was a dark mask of solemnity as he
captured her chin and turned her face toward him. “I have never reacted this
strongly to another woman, Gabi.”

His hand moved down to stroke the tempting shape of one long
curvaceous leg as he reached to pull their blankets up over their rapidly
cooling bodies. Snuggling into the crook of his arm and shoulder, Gabrielle
settled against him. With her fingertip, she outlined the full soft curve of
his lower lip. “You did not need to pull out of me when you spilled your seed,”
she told him gravely. “I cannot have children. I am barren.” Surely, now he
would be disgusted.

“How so? Has a doctor told you that? An Arabian doctor? Frank
doctors know nothing of this, not even the Brothers of Saint John.”

“No doctor was consulted when I lost my child, but I never
conceived again, so something went wrong inside me.” Tears began to fill her
eyes and slide down her cheeks. She turned her head away from him to hide her
regret and anguish.

“What happened?”

The concern in his voice nearly made her break down
completely. “I was sixteen. I was eight months pregnant. After two years of
being married to Reynald, I finally conceived. I guess he was happy, but he has
grown children, so he never said one way or the other. He got angry at me one
day for not showing proper respect to his guests. After they left, he began
shouting at me, hitting me. I fell down the stairs and lost my babe. It was
horrendous. I nearly died from the hemorrhaging. I never conceived again.”

“The whoreson! May God take his immortal soul and find a deep
pit in hell for him!”

“I have often prayed for that,” Gabrielle admitted, finally
overcome by her tears.

Lucien’s sympathy was both a blessing and a bane. She could
not hold back the painful memories or her unforgotten sorrow. She had wanted a
child so badly! And she’d not only lost it, but all ability to have more. Her
tears flowed freely, and for a long while nothing she could say to herself
seemed to halt them. Damnation, why had she brought up the past? Their
lovemaking had been so beautiful. “I’ve spoiled it…” she cried softly.

“You haven’t,” he whispered in her ear tenderly. “Nothing
could spoil it.” He gathered her in his arms and simply held her as she cried,
knowing that if he ever got the opportunity to kill Reynald de Châtillon, he
would do so in a heartbeat.

+++

Lucien felt the warm ray of the rising sun as it slanted
through the sky hole and radiated down across the lower half of his body, and
yet it was not nearly as warm as the woman curled asleep in his arms. Her body
heat enveloped him as no blanket ever could.

They had made love throughout the night, and each time had
been sweeter than the last. He didn’t want to rise from their bed on the soft
sand, and he refused to open his eyes to morning’s call. For the first time in
his life, he decided to indulge his own desires for the day. His further
assessment of Saladin’s troops could wait one more day. Today, he was not
leaving Gabrielle’s side.

As if in approval of his silent decision, she snuggled more
firmly against him, wedging her backside into his hips. Her long hair touched
him everywhere, the loose cascade of curls falling around her like a mantle,
soft as silk against his underarms, tickling his chest and groin, even teasing
his bare buttocks. His cheek rested against it, his nose nuzzled into the
fragrant mass of gold-shot confection.

He felt her wiggle again, and the rounded cheeks of her bare
bottom settled into the shape of him. Already aroused, he pressed himself
between her buttocks and rocked against her once.

The hand he had thrown over her side found the full round
globe of her breast through the strands of her long hair. For a slender woman,
she had surprising full breasts, and he had thoroughly enjoyed them last night.
They were velvety soft and remarkably sensitive, their pale pink buds puckering
with the slightest touch or kiss.

He played with the one that was not resting against the
forearm he had curled around her, squeezing it gently, running his callused
thumb back and forth over its peak, lifting it slightly to caress its enticing
weight. She made a purring sound of approval and pushed back against him yet
again, cradling his swollen staff perfectly between her rounded cheeks.

Lucien groaned silently, tortured by her drowsy responses to
him. He thought about making love to her from his position behind her, but
worried that she might not be ready for that. She needed to come to trust him
just a little more. No doubt Reynald had used her brutally. For men like him,
sodomy was second nature.