Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

T hough it was now safe to move, Esyllt stayed right where she was, wrapped in Connor’s arms. It felt too good to be held against his strong, warm body. She could have remained there until nightfall, with her leg draped over his thighs, her arm curled over his chest, her head in the crook of his neck.

It struck her that if they were discovered in such an intimate position, then they would for sure be taken for two reckless lovers sneaking out for a tryst in the woods, not two respectably married people.

Well, it mattered not. She knew what they were to each other.

She could have told herself that she was too frightened to do anything in case the men came back but she knew it was something other than fear that had her in its grip. Connor was so close to her that with every breath she took she inhaled his spicy leather scent, a scent that sent her back to the night before their wedding when he had teased her and proven to her that she desired him. Suddenly his warmth, his sheer physicality overwhelmed her.

She gulped.

Being close to a man like him, in his prime, was totally different to being close to her late husband had been. She had felt affection for Gwyn, even a sort of tenderness, but his proximity had never made her breath catch in her throat, her heart flutter in her chest, her body go limp with desire. Why was she so affected by Connor, an Englishman she should despise, when Gwyn, the husband she had respected, had never managed to stir any emotions within her?

She tried to move her head so that her lips would not brush against the skin of his neck but he tightened his hold around her, just enough to keep her in place. Apparently, he had no intention of getting up just yet.

On the contrary. He moved slowly, until he was poised over her, caging her under his strong body. Eyes fluttering, she tried to fight the array of sensations assaulting her senses.

“I think they’re gone,” Connor said, speaking in her ear.

She nodded, unable to answer.

He moved slightly, so he could look her in the eye. All the blood drained from Esyllt’s veins. Looking at such a handsome man whilst being so close to him was intoxicating. For a long moment, they remained glued to each other, with their faces only inches apart, breathing in the same air. Somehow, this was even more intimate than when he had entered her flesh, or pleasured her with his mouth. There was nothing scandalous about it, but it was more than the joining of two bodies overcome with lust, it was the union of two souls.

There also was a light in his eyes she could not quite account for. Was he embarrassed? Moved? Aroused? Yes, that might be what it was, he was feeling the same as she did, aroused by her proximity. Was he finally going to kiss her?

“Thank you,” he said eventually.

“W-why are you thanking me?” she stammered.

“You could have called out to your countrymen just now.”

“Why? What would I have said to them?”

He shrugged. “Anything. It would have been impossible for me to understand a word. I would have been unable to defend myself, and disposed of without even knowing what my supposed crime was. The men weren’t to know we are husband and wife, and I am obviously not Welsh. You could have accused me of assaulting you or of having robbed you of your riches or anything else.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “A perfect solution, don’t you think? Then you would have been widowed but your hands would have been clean.”

“Do you think I have so little honor?” she flared up.

The green eyes softened when she had expected them to flare in turn. “I do think that you are a woman of uncommon determination. And you did not desire our union.”

“No.” The word left a strange taste in Esyllt’s mouth. She had not at first, but now things had changed. Could he not see it?

“Need I remind you what you did to Lord Sheridan’s supposed squire to make him break your betrothal?” he purred. “How far you were prepared to go?”

No, he did not. She remembered it all too well. For a long moment she was unable to protest, or even speak. She simply stared at him, fascinated, the way she imagined a vole would stare at the hawk about to trap it into its claws.

“You think I want you dead?”

“You said you’d killed your first husband. Compared to that, handing your second husband to others to be dealt with would probably weigh little on your conscience.”

“It’s not the same,” she managed to say.

“Is it not? You never told me what the poor man did to deserve his fate. But I’ll admit to being curious.”

He leaned in closer. Oh, God, he was not going to kiss her, he was going to kill her. It was the only reason why he would ask such a question, the reason why he had trapped her under him, in this forest where no one would come to her aid and her body would never be found. Hers would be another skeleton found in a ditch, and in years from now, people might name their castle after her. The irrational thought whirled through her mind, causing her to suffocate in panic. Connor had not married her for love, but to obey his king. He had needed a match with a Welsh woman, but he didn’t need the wife that went with it. From the moment she had signed the wedding papers, her lands had been handed over to him. She had now outlived her purpose, so why would he spare her?

“Please don’t hurt me,” she croaked.

She was utterly at his mercy, already on the ground, already half dead with fright. She would never survive this.

“Hurt you?” Connor’s eyes clouded over at her plea. “Tell me, when have I hurt you?” He brushed a finger along her cheek and frowned. “Are you afraid of me? Please Esyllt, don’t be. I would never hurt you, I swear.”

It was the first time he had used her name. The way he said it, so perfectly, told her that he must have asked someone to help him with the unusual pronunciation, perhaps Jane or Sian. Dear God, she was a fool, and her overheated imagination had gotten the better of her for a moment. Of course he was not about to kill her, just because they were away from the castle! If he wanted her dead he would not have waited so long.

They slept in the same bed, the opportunity to hurt or kill her had been there from the start.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said in a whisper.

“You just said ‘don’t hurt me’.”

“I’m sorry, I panicked again.” She knew she all too easily did that, and it was a habit that was hard to break. “You asked about my husband, and you had this strange look in your eyes... I could not make sense of it.”

He stilled, then leaned in to speak with his mouth at her temple. The feel of his lips against her skin was delicious, and the heat of his breath stirred her senses. This was not a threatening embrace, far from it. “That might be because I was about to kiss you.”

With those words he placed a finger against her mouth. Her heart almost stopped. What she had seen flashing in his eyes was desire, not hatred. How could she have mistaken the two? There was a brief caress and then the finger pressed against her bottom lip slid inside her mouth, stopping when it bumped against her teeth. It was as shocking as if Connor had caressed her intimate folds and slipped the finger inside her heated flesh instead of between her lips. Esyllt moaned and fought the urge to open her mouth further.

“Will you let me?” he breathed, evidently pleased by her reaction. “Will you let me kiss you, Esyllt?”

“You don’t need to ask. You are my husband.”

He had certainly not asked her permission to kiss her there the other day. Surely, he didn’t think this would be an even more forbidden act?

He shook his head, not satisfied with the logic of her answer. “I have never kissed a woman who did not want me. I am not going to start with my own wife.” He took his finger from her mouth and let it slide along her throat, stopping just at the swell of her breasts. “So will you let me kiss you?”

“Why do you want to kiss me?”

“For the same reason you want to kiss me.” With those words he brought his lips within touching distance of her. “Kiss me, Esyllt. I’m your husband. You don’t need to ask for permission.”

She could not resist. He was right. She wanted to kiss him but she couldn’t have explained why. Weren’t they supposed to be wary of each other? No, not anymore. The time to be wary had long passed.

The time to be bold had come.

The gap between them was bridged without her knowing who had moved first. Did it matter? No, as they wanted the same thing. And she instantly knew this would be a kiss like no other.

Connor’s lips were soft, as soft as the rest of him was hard, and though his intent was clear, she didn’t feel forced in any way. His tongue probed at her lips instead of invading her, coaxing them open. She obeyed the sensual command and allowed him to explore at his leisure and take them both to unexpected heights of pleasure. She had been shocked when he had made her body explode with his kisses on her womanhood, but she had not been surprised. It made sense that such a sensitive part of her anatomy should create mind-blowing sensations when properly touched. But the lips... How could a kiss’ heat spread through her every nerve ending in that way?

Deciding she would never find the answer to that question, she settled for enjoying the moment. As if he’d guessed her intentions, Connor growled into her mouth, the sound deeply erotic. Then there was another rumble, one that made the ground tremble under her back. Esyllt almost groaned in frustration.

No, not again! Not now!

Connor was on his feet before Esyllt could move because it was clear from the beat of the hooves that it was only one rider this time, so he had no qualms about being seen. Whoever this was, whatever their intention, he could handle them, even unharmed. The kiss with Esyllt had infused him with strength, and he felt ready to face a dozen men, so one would be no threat whatsoever. He would not hide anymore, he would defend and claim her as his to whoever dared approach.

But the rider didn’t stop. It was simply a lonely traveler cantering along the path, oblivious to their presence. He didn’t slow down, or even glance in their direction when he rode past the clearing. They weren’t in any danger. Connor turned in time to see Esyllt get up and brush the dried leaves from her skirts. She looked flushed and was unable to meet his eye.

She was also unutterably beautiful, and more precious to him than ever.

He walked up to her, remembering the look in her eyes when he had come over her earlier. Up until then, he had never thought she might actually be afraid of him. She was always so brazen. But she had been like a rabbit in front of a fox about to tear it to shreds, pale and frightened. And all because of him.

The sight had torn at his insides. He never wanted to cause her another moment’s worry in his life.

“Esyllt, I?—”

“I think we should go,” she said, moving before he could reach her.

“No, not yet.”

She shook her head and carried on looking at the ground, at her shoes, anywhere but at him. “Please, don’t say anything. I couldn’t...”

He did not allow her to walk away but he did not touch her. As she was already mortified, he did not want to add to her distress. But why was she so disturbed to have kissed him? Married people had every right to do this and more. When the rider had interrupted them, he had been about to lift her skirts and stroke her intimately. Whether he would have done so simply to give her pleasure or to prepare her for his possession, he wasn’t sure, but what was certain was that he had been about to take the kiss to the next level.

What else could he have done? He wanted her, had wanted her for days. It was time they started acting like husband and wife. Would she have agreed to the intimacy? Unfortunately, he could not be sure. The day he had pleasured her with his mouth, he had not given her any choice, he had devoured her like a man demented with need. He might have frightened her by his vehemence.

And even if she felt desire for him, after what had happened the night of his arrival at Esgyrn Castle, he feared she might not allow herself to follow her desire. Because of him, of what he had done to her, of how dirty he had made her feel then, of how he had teased her, calling her a wanton, lustful woman, and denying her the release she craved after taking possession of her body.

Guilt assaulted him. She did not deserve to be made to feel like that.

“We’re married,” he told her softly. “There is no shame in us kissing.”

No, Esyllt privately admitted, there was no shame in kissing, but what about the heat burning a path down her whole body? The inexplicable urge to grind her hips against Connor, to feel him thrust inside her? Surely kissing someone should be just that, kissing? It should not transform you into a lewd creature, wild enough to forget everything around you, and make you behave so shamefully?

Had the rider not interrupted them, she would have bared her body; she would have begged Connor to make love to her here out in the open, amongst the leaves in the ditch. Even worse, had he refused, she might well have pushed him flat on his back, so that she could ride him like she rode her horse.

Dear God... What would he have thought if she had done such a scandalous thing? It was something she had heard two maids discuss once, and which had shocked her. Now the notion did not shock her as much as send her nerves into a wild tangle. After the way she had behaved the night they’d met, when she had sat on him with her bare legs and then allowed him to come to her bed and possess her, he would really think her depraved beyond all hope.

How far are you prepared to go ? he’d asked her.

Quite far, apparently. Much further than she would have liked, much further than a lady should go. Too far.

Her English husband did not trust her because she was Welsh. That was bad enough. She did not want him to think her a wanton as well.

“Please, let’s just go, night is already falling.” She made to walk to the horses, but he was in front of her before she could take more than one step, blocking her path.

“No.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he about to tumble her to the ground and show her that he would not countenance being teased one moment and refused the next? He would have felt her response to his kiss, known she was melting for him, so why would he not want to make the most of it?

“No?” she repeated, hoping to be wrong. By now, she had understood that they would consummate their marriage before too long, but she didn’t want it to happen like that.

“Not before you have looked me in the eye and told me that you are not ashamed of what happened.”

Esyllt hesitated but knew there would be no swaying him. At long last, she lifted her eyes to him. He was staring at her almost sternly. “I-I am not ashamed of what happened.”

“And mean it,” he specified with a smile.

This she couldn’t do, for she most definitely was ashamed, whatever he said.

“Esyllt,” Connor said more firmly. “Forgive me, this is all my fault. I should not have... well... I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened at his fumbled apologies. None of the men she knew would ever apologize to a woman, especially not unprompted. “You should not have what?”

“I should not have kissed you just now. It is clear you did not want it.”

Oh, but she had wanted it! Too much, that was the problem. Esyllt would hold the memory of that first kiss close to her heart forever. It had been perfect, as if they could ignore all that had happened between them for a moment. There had been no distrust, no doubt, no resentment. They had been just a man and a woman who wanted one another.

“I did want it. But ’tis now over and we should...”

They should what? Go before she asked to kiss him again? To forget about it? To leave before it was dark? But how could she leave in such a state?

“My hair,” she said, fingering the ribbon that had held her tresses in place. It had slid down and was not holding anything anymore. She could not get back to the castle like this and face everyone’s comments or worse, Matthew’s hawkish stare. He would no doubt ascribe some dark motives to a tryst in the woods with her husband.

He would remind her that he was watching her, he would accuse her of having led her husband right into the heart of the forest so that Welsh rebels could jump on him, or something equally ridiculous. He would ruin one of the most incredible moments of her life with his foul suspicions.

“What about your hair?” Connor asked slowly.

“I cannot be seen in such a state of disarray. It will look as if we had...”

She didn’t finish, and mercifully, he didn’t pass any comment, because they had rolled around on the ground and shared a passionate kiss. “Shall I braid it for you?” he asked instead.

“You?”

Esyllt almost laughed, all the tension in her body releasing in one exhale. This man, tall and broad, this warrior who dressed in chain mail and wielded swords as easily as she handled embroidering needles, was offering to do what her delicate lady- in-waiting usually did. The idea was too ludicrous by half. Then the laughter got stuck in her throat when she imagined him running his fingers through her hair. It would feel nothing like Seren’s perfunctory touch. It would make her want him to touch other parts of her.

Just like that, the tension between them was back.

“Yes, me,” Connor said, his voice deep. “You are forgetting I have a daughter. I cannot recall how many times I have been requested to impersonate a lady-in-waiting and adorn Jane’s hair. I have picked up one or two things along the way, you’ll be pleased to know.”

Her heart melted at the thought of him playing with his little girl’s hair. “I am sure that you make a very poor lady-in-waiting.”

He did not even flinch. “I would. I have yet to find a dress that can fit me.”

And just like that, she started laughing. It was not the first time Connor had displayed a propensity for mischief, but usually it expressed itself with Jane, Matthew, or one of his men, not her. But she needed to laugh right now, or she would end up throwing herself into his arms.

“Well, be that as it may, I have no intention of having my hair pulled when you cannot control your strength!”

He did not protest, or laugh. Instead he leaned toward her.

“I have absolute mastery over my strength, Esyllt, and I can control my fingers very well. Don’t you remember? I thought you had quite liked my caresses. And my intimate kisses.”

Her mouth fell open at the provocative words. Was he really reminding her of all he had done to her in bed? “You...”

“Yes, me. Your husband, the only man who has the right to give you such pleasure. I shall do it as often as you need me to.” Oh, now, he was just being cruel, by alluding to what they could do together. “So what say you. Are you ready to risk it? Shall I braid your hair, lady wife?”

She swallowed hard and then nodded, utterly under his spell. By now, she would have agreed to almost anything.

“Sit down.”

To Connor’s surprise, Esyllt obeyed without a word. She settled on the log he had indicated and waited for him to start seeing to her coiffure. He placed himself behind her, readying himself.

As soon as he buried his fingers into her hair, Connor understood that he had grossly underestimated the difficulty of the task. Not only was his wife’s hair nothing like his daughter’s but he was not usually distracted by lewd thoughts when he braided Jane’s hair. His body didn’t burn from the inside, his shaft didn’t pulse with need.

To add to his confusion, Esyllt sat rigidly on the piece of wood, as if she would bolt at any moment, when surely she should be melting under his touch. Seeing her fight the desire she felt for him was an unusual and unwelcome feeling. Connor was used to having women fawn over him. They wanted his body, his fortune, the prestige of an association with him—or all of this at once. As a consequence, they acted as if the sun had been created to shine over him alone.

He had never enjoyed such blatant seduction ploys, but to have a woman look at him with diffidence was no better. It was downright unpleasant, all the more so that Esyllt had no reason to fight her desire for him.

They were already married, and he knew her motives were pure, as she had nothing to gain by giving herself to him. Status, she had already had, as Lady Sheridan. His domains and possessions meant nothing to her, as they were in England, and prestige she did not care for. As to his body, she had every right to it already... and she wanted it, that made no doubt in his mind. But unlike the other women who were ready to do anything to find themselves under him, she did all she could to avoid finding herself in that position.

Rather than try to attract him, she did her best to keep him at bay. She wasn’t using her charms as a weapon; she seemed almost afraid of them. He hated this diffidence, but it also inflamed him.

It was a refreshing challenge to have to make a woman give in to him rather than find a way of refusing her advances without offending her, to make her understand that there was no shame in admitting what she felt for him. They were husband and wife, so they could indulge their senses as much as they wanted.

His other lovers had feigned attraction and used desire to stir him into proposal.

Esyllt felt desire for him and yet she resisted the attraction.

It made no sense.

Still, the result was the same. He was irresistibly drawn. This woman he had not chosen for her personal qualities intrigued him, provoked his lust, infuriated him, and made him laugh all at once. Despite the trick she had played on him the night before their wedding, he was attracted to her like he had never been attracted to anyone. Perhaps it was because of the trick she had played. After all, it wasn't everyday a beautiful woman had you bound in ropes so she could sit on your lap then dragged you into bed and silently begged to be fucked.

Even his most determined conquests had not been so bold. It had been arousing as hell to be at Esyllt’s mercy, all the more so that she had been unaware of his identity at the time. What he had seen in her eyes had been pure, honest desire, not calculation, and it had been for him , for the man he was, not for the lord who could offer her protection and wealth.

Since she had found out his real name she had not dared show her inner feelings or carnal side and he longed to see it again. When he had pleasured her intimately, she had not demanded a more complete possession. When he had kissed her just now, she had recoiled from the possibility of more, instead of pushing him onto the ground and have her way with him.

And now here he was, tamely braiding her hair, when what he wanted was to bury his fingers in it while he rode her hard.

“Here,” he said in a breath. “As good as the most seasoned lady-in-waiting, I would say.”

Esyllt tentatively patted at her coiffure. He groaned inwardly. God’s teeth, if that innocent gesture stirred his blood, he really was in deeper than he’d thought. Something would have to be done about how he felt, and soon.

“I cannot see anything so I guess I will just have to take your word for it.”

“You will. Don’t worry, you look as lovely as ever.”

She blushed, as if she had never heard the word applied to her before and did not quite know what to make of it. He would have to ensure he complimented her more often, so that she got used to it, just like he was making sure she got used to his body by walking around naked when he got up in the morning. As he’d informed her, men woke up hard. What he had never told her, however, was that usually the erection went down almost immediately. His was kept alive for much longer by the way she looked at him.

He was starting to wonder how long he could keep pretending that he didn’t see the desire in her eyes, or didn’t want to act on it.

“Let’s go then.”

But just as she took her first step, her skirts got caught in a holly bush.

“Allow me.” Connor knelt at her feet to disentangle the dress from the foliage keeping it captive. He smiled to himself when he saw the way the leaves had sunk their teeth in the delicate material, as if to keep her with them. He could understand the urge. “Holly reminds me of you, dear wife.”

As if to illustrate the similarities between her and the plant, she glared at him. “Does it?”

“Yes. Your hair is just as shiny as the newly unfurled leaves and your eyes are the same vibrant green.”

He saw in those beautiful eyes the surprise he had hoped to provoke. She had obviously feared he would compare her to the prickliness of the bush.

“It’s a beautiful color,” she finally conceded. “But I doubt ’tis what other people see when they look at holly.”

“I care not what other people see. I’m your husband, and therefore I like to think that I see things in you they might not.”

“Oh. So now you’re saying that no one else but you could consider me beautiful. I’m flattered.”

Connor burst out laughing. It was not what he’d been saying at all and she knew it. “I think I shall keep my compliments to myself in the future, if they displease you that much.”

“Compliments? I don’t know how it is in England, but here in Wales compliments make the person receiving them feel good.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m beaten. Next time I shall praise your beauty in a more conventional manner, comparing your hair to the sun, and your eyes to sparkling gems. Would that be better?”

Esyllt didn’t answer because, in truth, she had liked the unconventional compliment, much more personal than the ones she was used to receiving. But after their passionate kiss, she didn’t know how to deal with Connor.

“I believe we were on our way to the horses?” she said pointedly.

“We were.”

The horses nickered at their approach. Esyllt looked at her mare and then at her heavy dress. There wasn’t a log in sight that could serve as a mounting block.

“Once again, you will allow me,” Connor whispered, not resisting the urge to speak with his lips against the delicate shell of her ear.

When she nodded her agreement, he took her by the waist and turned her to face him. This was not the best way to hand her over the horse, not by any means, which made him realize he had asked permission for something else. As to what it was, he was not quite sure. A kiss? A simple embrace?

Esyllt seemed at a loss also. “I-I meant?—”

“I know. Forgive me.”

Turning her once more, he gave her a leg up, then helped arrange her skirts around her when she was sat in the saddle.

He vaulted onto Storm’s back, and they set off at a brisk trot, intent on reaching Esgyrn Castle before it was full dark.

“I will have to go to the village by the coast soon,” Esyllt announced out of the blue. Connor guessed she was trying to act as if nothing licentious had happened in the woods, probably a sensible idea. It would not do to dismount in the bailey with a bulge in his braies. “It is time we elected a new reeve.”

“We will send word that we’ll go together three days hence, so that they can select a few candidates to present to us,” he ruled. “From now on I will preside over the election, with your help, of course.”

She looked at him from under her lashes. “Very well. I’m glad to see you taking your role as master of Castell Esgyrn and husband seriously.”

“Oh, believe me, I take my role as your husband very seriously, and mean to fulfil it to the best of my abilities.” Aye, he did, and in all senses of the word. Not least of all in bed. “I want to make you proud, make you trust me.”

Make you moan, make you come.

The image of her squirming under him had him hard as a poker in the blink of an eye. Damn it all! Only a moment ago he’d been thinking he didn’t want to arrive at the castle with an erection the size of his arm.

Connor launched his stallion into a gallop.