Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

“ H ave you seen your brother?”

Esyllt stormed toward Matthew, feeling like a pagan goddess ready to unleash her wrath. She could not remember ever being so irate and he was the perfect target for her fury. The resentment of the last few months built up until it could do nothing but erupt in his face.

The arrogant Englishman had it coming anyway. It might as well be now, when she needed something to take the edge off her ire. After a day of difficult negotiations on her own and a ride in the driving rain, she was not in the mood to even try to spare him. He’d been nothing but condescending or downright insulting toward her since he’d arrived.

“Where is he?”

“What do you want with him?”

Matthew made a grimace but she was too far gone to notice that he looked ill at ease when she had expected him to snap back, claiming that Connor did what he wanted and was not accountable to a Welsh schemer, be she his own wife.

“I’ll tell you what I want with him, shall I? We were supposed to go to the village today and elect the new reeve together. He promised he would be there, he even sent word ahead to say so. Everyone was waiting for him there. And did he come? No. Did he give any explanation to me or anyone as to why he was absent? No. It was humiliating! What sort of a message do you think it will have sent?”

That the new, proud, arrogant English lord could not bestir himself to come and see his poor Welsh tenants, that was what. She could have cried in frustration and hurt combined. To think that only the other day she had thought him reasonable and involved in his domain’s affairs, ready to give their marriage and his new responsibilities a try.

The last two days had been perfect, and the last two nights even more so, even if they had not made love or even kissed. Sensing she needed time to adjust to the new accord between them, Connor had merely drawn her into his arms before falling asleep and held her tight against his warmth. It had been all she’d needed.

And now she was forced to see that it had all been an illusion. He cared nothing for her or her people.

Matthew let out a sigh. “Connor is in his room.”

“Oh, is he?” It had not even crossed Esyllt’s mind that he would still be in the castle. Her husband was many things but he was not lazy. What was he doing in his room at this time? When she had not seen him by her side upon waking up, she had not for a moment thought he had gone to his own room. He never did that. Why had he hidden there today of all days? Well, there was only one way to find out. “Methinks it’s time to wake him up.”

She picked up her wet skirts and rushed past Matthew.

“My lady, wait!”

Esyllt didn’t turn around or even slow down, for suddenly an awful premonition seized her. Evidently, Matthew was aware of what Connor was up to in that room and he didn’t want her to see it. Why? An image of her husband lying in bed with another woman tore through her mind and almost sent her to her knees. Had he let her go all alone to the village so that he could spend the day in bed with a mistress?

No. Surely he wouldn’t have dared!

But why not? He had known she would be out of the castle and busy with the election of the reeve and it had been months since their wedding, months during which he had not been able to indulge his masculine urges with her. Why would he not do like every virile man she knew and find a willing woman for a wild romp?

Followed by Matthew who, despite his obvious anguish, was doing his best to heed his brother’s instructions and not bodily restrain her, she climbed the spiral staircase and opened the door to Connor’s bedchamber. She had to know the truth if it killed her.

Her first thought was that her worst fears were confirmed. The bed was all in disarray and her husband lay sprawled on his stomach, wearing only his hose. It took her a moment to realize that he was alone in the bed, however, and asleep, rather than labouring over a woman. It was only a small consolation. His conquest could have just left, leaving him too spent to move.

She rounded on Matthew. “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play the innocent with me, you know perfectly well who I’m talking about. Forgive me if I don’t know my husband’s leman by name.” Were there more than one? Was that why he was confused?

Matthew sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Connor did not spend the day in a woman’s arms. God knows I would have preferred him to.” This was such a shocking thing to tell a man’s wife that Esyllt instantly believed him. Disapproving of her as he may be, her brother-in-law would not have dared tell her to her face that he regretted her husband had not spent the day rutting away with another woman.

No. She was now certain of it, Connor had spent the day alone.

“Then... What happened? Is he prone to spending days lying in bed thus?”

“No.” Matthew gave another sigh. Esyllt saw his eyes flicker toward the floor next to the bed. Now that her anger had dissipated somewhat, she saw a cup and a jug next to a puddle of dark liquid she assumed to be wine.

“I see,” she said frostily. “He decided to drink himself into a stupor instead of coming with me to the village as planned. Well, I cannot say I’m impressed.”

She didn’t know whether to be relieved to see that he was not with a woman or horrified by what she was seeing. Was her husband a drunkard? She had never suspected it, certainly since their wedding he had not given her any indication that he might like drinking to excess. But there was no mistaking the tableau in front of her.

“Listen,” Matthew said, sounding like his usual unbearable self once more. “You don’t know Connor. You cannot judge him on what you?—”

“You mean that he is a drunkard and that this is nothing you have not seen before, that I should expect such behavior in the future?” How was that supposed to reassure her?

“No. And if only you listened to me, I might tell you what I mean.” He was now exasperated, but Esyllt did not see why she should try to be more patient. She was annoyed as well. Just what was happening here?

As if guessing she was about to lose her mind, Connor stirred. He gave a groan and turned to face them, confusion etched all over his face. Esyllt threw him a look as cold as she could muster.

“Awake, husband? Do not tell me we disturbed you?” she sneered. “I’m sorry, we didn’t think anyone would object to hearing people move about and talk. It is, after all, well past the nooning hour.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her with eyes that had lost some of their usual spark. She frowned. In this moment he did not look like a man befuddled by drink, but rather like a...

She blinked. Had he been crying? The answer hit her with the force of a clap of thunder.

Yes, he had.

Her anger disappeared in the blink of an eye and she took an involuntary step forward. It seemed that for the second time in just a few weeks, she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Just like she had when she’d first heard of Jane, she had been quick to accuse him of duplicity when it seemed he had a genuine reason for acting the way he had.

“My lord? Are you well?” she asked tentatively. “What is it?”

“Do you want me to talk to her, Brother?” Matthew asked from behind her. For once, Esyllt did not bristle. It did not sound as if he was interfering where he had no reason to, rather it was obvious he was trying to help his brother out of a difficult situation, an intention that found favour with her.

“No, I will do it, thank you.” Connor’s voice sounded rough but he looked determined—and sober—enough to do it. Esyllt braced herself, wondering if she wanted to know what the matter was after all.

“Please don’t be too harsh on him,” Matthew said, looking at her squarely.

Her eyes widened. What was going on here? Before she could say anything he left the room, closing the door behind him.

“What’s the matter?” Esyllt croaked, coming forward. She was now truly worried. What terrible secret was her husband hiding from her? Was he ill and trying to drown his fear at the prospect? Her insides twisted in fear. No! Not him as well! He was a picture of strength and health such as Gwyn had never been, surely he could not be at death’s door? “Are you unwell?”

There was such dread in her voice that Connor instantly reassured her, using the word she had not dared use. “No. I’m not dying.”

Slowly, the blood returned to her veins. If he was not about to die, then she could start breathing again. Still, something was definitely wrong. He had not shaved, his jaw was shadowed by a dark stubble that should have made him appear unkempt. But all it did was draw attention to his manly face and offer a contrast to his green eyes.

“I’m sorry I did not come with you to the reeve’s election. It was my intention to go, as you know, but at the last moment I could not. I had not realized what day it would be when I sent word to the village.”

Oh God, the reeve’s election. Lost to her worry, she’d had forgotten all about that. She shook her head. “It’s not a problem. But will you tell me what’s wrong?”

By now, she had understood that it was not a whim or a mark of disinterest on his part. The fact that he had apologized for it immediately and unprompted was enough to tell her he had a serious motive for letting her go on her own.

“Today is the feast of St Philip and James,” he started. She waited. Was that supposed to mean anything to her? Because it did not. “Last year on that day my wife died, whilst giving birth to my baby girl.”

Esyllt froze. He’d lost a child? She’d had no idea, and she could not imagine suffering a worst loss.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry...” She sat on the bed and took his hand in hers. It was warm and big. So big. So strong. And yet in that moment he appeared so fragile. Her heart broke for him. “I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t, even if I think you suspected something. What did Matthew tell you about them?” he asked softly. “My girls?”

Of course... The day of the hide and seek game, when she had revealed his brother’s taunt. She remembered Connor’s outbursts of anger at the mere mention of children, how he had flared up despite being a measured man. Now she knew why the topic was a sensitive one. Because he had lost a child, and a wife, in traumatic circumstances. No wonder he had not welcomed any probing on her part.

“He said that you could only father girls, that I would never be able to give you an heir. I know he was trying to rile me, but at the time I thought Jane was an only child, that’s why I wondered if you had?—”

She did not finish her sentence. Not only did she not want to remind him of her clumsy accusations regarding illegitimate children, but he had gone deathly pale. He ran a hand over his face like a man trying to chase a nightmarish vision. That he was reliving the moment he’d been handed his dead baby was obvious.

“I fathered three girls,” he said in a voice she had never heard before. “Two of them are dead. Jane’s twin sister, Elspeth, died six months ago, of a fever. She fought bravely for a week, we all hoped she would make it, but in the end...” His voice caught in his throat and he fell back on the bed, hiding his face with his bent arm.

“Oh, Lord, I’m sorry,” Esyllt whispered, feeling sick to her stomach. To lose a baby at birth was awful, but a little girl he had seen grow and learned to love was unthinkable. How had he not gone mad with grief? Even as the question crossed her mind, she knew the answer.

Because of Jane.

He’d had to stay strong for his surviving child. There had been no other choice, her father was all she had left from her loving family.

Connor gave her hand a squeeze. “That’s the real reason I accepted the king’s orders. I could have made my peace with never marrying again, in fact I think I would have preferred it at the time, but Jane was too young. She needs a stepmother, and a sister. I chose you because I was told about Sian. Jane would be so glad to have a stepsister her own age. I thought...” He paused. “She will never forget Elspeth, of course, but I hoped it might help her get over the worst of the grief. And Sian has proven to be the support she needed not to collapse, and more. I will never thank her enough for that. Between you, you and Sian have given me my daughter back. I had not heard her laugh in months when Matthew brought her to Esgyrn Castle.”

The lump in Esyllt’s throat almost prevented her from talking but she made the effort. “I’m glad we could help.”

Now she understood everything. The way Jane insisted on sleeping with Sian, their limbs entwined together, her protectiveness about her new friend, the look on Connor’s face when his daughter had mentioned a secret language between the two of them. She had heard that twins sometimes shared such a connection. It seemed that Jane was trying to recreate with Sian what she’d had with Elspeth.

Her heart squeezed in compassion.

It was what she had thought all along. This man had a secret wound. He was not the ruthless, uncaring man she had feared he would be when Gruffydd had forced her into this union. She had been attracted to him from the first, before she’d known who he was. But then, after his awful deception, she’d thought it wiser to steel herself against her treacherous feelings. It had been much safer to think him as detached as he strove to appear.

But now she knew she would not be able to rely on that anymore, because he was not detached or remote, quite the opposite. His indefectible love for a man who was not his real brother proved it, as did his devotion to his daughter and his attitude toward Sian—and toward her.

The story he’d just revealed made her heart bleed. To lose an innocent soul, the light of your life, did not bear thinking about. To make matters worse, he had to live with the living, breathing image of the little girl he had lost. He had to witness the suffering of his daughter every day, see her miss her twin like you would miss a part of yourself.

“I’m so sorry. I cannot imagine what you must have suffered.”

“No, I know. I was hoping to be healing, but when I realized this morning what day it was I just... crumpled. I left the bed before you could wake up. It was cowardly of me but I could not think of anything else to do.”

She shook her head slowly. “I wish I could help.”

“You have. By listening to me.”

They were still holding hands. Connor raised hers to his lips and kissed it. Their gazes locked for a moment. Esyllt’s breath caught in her throat at the emotion she saw on his face. This day would mark a turning point in their relationship, she knew it. She had finally unlocked the mystery that was her husband. All that was needed now for them to start their marriage in earnest was for him to know who she really was.

It was time she told him what had happened with Gwyn, what no one but she knew.

“I too have a confession to make.” He had confided his pain to her, unveiled the heavy secret weighing on his heart. Suddenly, she wanted to do the same and prove that she trusted him.

“I will listen, but only if you’re certain you want to make it.”

“I am.” Connor waited while she gathered the courage to speak out. “I did kill my husband, like I told you the day of our wedding.” Her eyes filled with tears as the memory of that night assaulted her. “But it was not cold-blooded murder. I did it at his request. And now I... I cannot live with myself.”

Connor stared at Esyllt. She thought she had made an extraordinary revelation but he had guessed long ago there would be more to this story than she had claimed. This loving, generous woman was no murderess, whatever she said.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“But I do.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and took in a deep breath. “Last winter he was injured during a hunt. A stupid accident, but the wound became infected and his whole leg soon started to turn black. He suffered agony day and night, and there was no hope of a cure. He was already an old man, and he had been sickly for some time, ever since the birth of our daughter. We didn’t know what to do. I was beside myself with worry.”

Connor waited. Eventually, he would hear what had happened. There was no hurry. After months of marriage, he and his wife were finally getting to know one another. He would not rush things.

“One day he called me to his bedchamber and asked me to help him. He wanted to die. He asked me to find a way to... make it happen.” Esyllt closed her eyes, and another tear fell on her cheek. He reached out to wipe it away and cradled her cheek in his palm.

“I’m sorry. This must have been so hard to hear.”

She nodded. “I refused, but he begged me for days. I could see his suffering, hear his cries of agony at night. Unable to stand it any longer, I went to see a wise woman. I asked her for some brew that would... put an end to it all. Still, I hesitated. One particularly bad evening I prepared it, following her instructions, and I told Gwyn about it when he called me to his side. As soon as I had spoken, he had a kitchen scullion brought up. He asked if she had seen me prepare anything that day. When she said that she had, he asked her to bring the potion to him.”

“Hadn’t you placed it in a safe place?” It seemed incredible she would have left such a lethal drink lying around.

“Yes, of course, but he ordered the girl to find it on pain of dismissal, knowing full well I would not allow him to punish her so drastically when she could not find it. I was forced to reveal to her where I had hidden the vial.” A sob escaped her lips. This confession was costing her, but he would be there for her. He gave the hand he was still holding a squeeze. “Once she had brought it to him, he kissed me one last time and ordered me out of the room. His squire found him dead in the morning, the empty vial on the bed by his side.”

She lowered her head, the weight of the guilt heavy on her shoulders. Connor gave her a moment to collect herself before speaking.

“Esyllt, listen to me. You didn’t murder your husband, or even kill him.” He lifted her chin so that she could meet his eye. “He chose to drink the potion, he killed himself because he could not bear to live anymore. I am sure he wouldn’t want you to torture yourself for helping him, for doing what he’d begged you to do, many times. He was dying a painful, slow death and he knew it. You gave him the means to put an end to his suffering, at his request, that is not the same at all as killing him.”

“Deep down, I know it. I just can’t seem to accept it.” She stared into his eyes and he felt his chest tighten. Dear God, she was so beautiful. So vulnerable.

“Why did you tell me you had killed your first husband the day of her wedding?” he asked, lifting her chin slightly.

“I-I wanted you to be wary of me. I thought that if you were scared of what I might do it would be my best defence against the revenge you would inflict on me in retaliation for what I had made you go through the night before, when I thought you were your squire.” She shrugged. “How silly of me. How could a man like you ever be afraid of me?”

Her words hit him hard. She’d been afraid of retaliation, and he’d never seen it, never thought to reassure her.

“Oh, Esyllt, there was no need to try and protect yourself. I never intended to make you pay for anything, much less hurt you.” He gave her cheek a tender stroke. Hurt a woman? This woman? Never! “In any case, your plan did not work.”

“No, of course not. How could you have taken any threat I represented seriously? You’re a knight in your prime, and I’m just a woman.”

Just a woman. He could not help a smile. Did she have any idea of the power she had over him? Apparently not.

“I mean that warning me to stay away from you was not enough to make me wary of what you might do, or unwilling to be with you.” He leaned in, ever so slightly. “Surely you saw that?”

“I don’t know,” she breathed, when his thumb started to brush her skin in small, rhythmic strokes. Her cheek was so soft he could not repress a groan.

“We were interrupted yesterday.” As he spoke, his loins caught fire. Interrupted during the best, most sensual kiss of his life. “But we are alone now and I don’t think anyone will come riding past.”

“No.”

“So, will you let me undress you, Esyllt?” he rasped, almost mad with the need to see her body. “I need to see you.”

“Yes.” She sounded dazed.

“Then stand up.”

As soon as she did, he placed himself behind her, so he could unlace her bodice. In that position, all he could think about was how delicate she was compared to him. When he touched the front of her gown, he frowned.

“Your clothes are wet.”

“It... It rained rather heavily on the ride back from the village.”

Yes, the village, where he’d sent her alone. Connor clenched his teeth. As if he didn’t feel guilty enough about that, now he was told she’d had to endure foul weather while on horseback. “Will you?—”

“I have forgiven you already,” she breathed. “Please, don’t stop. I’m cold.”

A growl escaped Connor’s throat. “Not to worry, soon you’ll be burning.”

The wet gown was disposed of, then the shift, which, mercifully was only very slightly damp.

Facing her once again, he slid his hands along her arms to come and encircle her waist, then squeezed her buttocks gently, forcing her to mold herself against him. She gave a whimper, as if no one had touched that part of her body before. In all probability, no one had. Her late husband, if he’d looked after her adequately during the day, had apparently not made the most of having a woman like her in his bed at night. Connor swore he would not make the same mistake.

The time to consummate their marriage had come.

With much less delicacy than he had used with her, he disposed of his hose. Thank Christ he had not been wearing much, for he could not wait to feel her against him. Once he was naked, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her toward him, not even trying to hide the proof of his desire for her. Though she blushed, she did not seem worried or afraid or even surprised. Good. Perhaps the lessons in handling male nudity had not been in vain.

“Please, let me kiss you here,” he begged, brushing his cheek against a nipple made hard by the cold. Esyllt inhaled, proving he’d been right to suppose that the stubble on his jaw would create pleasurable sensations within her.

“Yes.”

He suckled her a long moment, one breast then the other, reveling in the feel of her softness in his mouth as well as the moans escaping her lips. Then, slowly, he lay back, coaxing her forward until she was draped over him. Her whole body was in contact with his, from forehead to toe.

So smooth, so arousing.

“Still cold, wife?” he breathed against her neck. Dear God, she not only felt good, she smelled divine as well.

“Was I cold?” she breathed back. “I can’t remember.”

Connor knew he was going to lose his mind. Finally he was about to possess his wife, the woman who had inflamed his desire for weeks. And what a woman she was! Stretched over his body, with her face buried against the crook of his neck, she fit against him perfectly, as if she’d been created to be there.

Bringing his hands to the back of her thighs, he coaxed her legs apart so that she was straddling him. The provocative position made him groan out loud. Would he take her like this and watch pleasure erupt on her face while she rode him? Would he turn her to her side and enter her from behind while he nibbled at her neck or make her support herself on her hands and knees so he could massage her breasts while he thrust inside her with all the strength of his desire?

No.

All this would have to wait. He wasn’t sure how experienced she was in the art of lovemaking. In fact, based on what he’d seen and heard so far, he was confident her elderly husband would have taken her only in the most traditional manner, and the last thing he wanted right now, when he was moments away from bliss, was to startle her. They had the rest of their lives to experiment together.

“Please, I need you,” he rasped in her ear.

“Me too.” The words were little more than a sigh.

Unable to wait a moment longer, he gave a jerk of his hips and rolled her onto her back, placing her under him. There. Perfect. Her legs were already spread wide and he assured himself with a light finger that she was ready for him. To his relief, he found her slick with longing. Nothing stood in his way now. Thank the Lord she was not a virgin, for this first possession would be quick. He was ready to burst. Not to worry, they had all night to quench their thirst for each other, he would make sure she got her pleasure time and time again. For now he just needed to be inside her.

He looked deep into Esyllt’s eyes—and found them huge. Huge with fright, not hazy with longing.

“Christ, Esyllt, you’re afraid of me again!” He recoiled in horror. Was she disgusted by his unkempt state? It would be little wonder if she was. He would smell of drink, his stubble would feel rough on her tender skin. All his desire vanished at the sight of her fear. “Forgive me I should have waited for a better moment to?—”

“Please, no... It’s not that. Yes, I guess I am afraid, but it’s not what you think. I’m not afraid of you.”

His heartbeat eased marginally. If she wasn’t afraid of him, then he could handle it. “Then, what are you afraid of?”

Esyllt hesitated and, seeing that Connor was genuinely worried, forced herself to explain. She could tell he had not expected her to refuse him at the last moment, and in truth, she didn’t want to refuse him. It was only... well, that she was also scared.

She decided to be honest. They had just bared their souls to each other, she could not go back to secrecy now.

“I’m afraid of myself. Of my reaction. I don’t understand what is happening to me and it scares me. I’ve never been like this, I swear, but when you touch me I seem to become another woman, a wanton, lustful one, just like you said. I’m sorry, I know it displeases you, and it shames me to admit as much, but I cannot seem to help myself.”

It was shocking, decadent.

It made her want to squirm, to force him to place his hand on her, to reach between his legs and stroke his erect member, maybe, yes, maybe even take it in her mouth, just like he had alluded to.

What power did Connor have over her? How could he reduce her to this wild creature just by stroking her? Or maybe the fault lay with her, maybe he was right and there was something wrong with her. Maybe she really was depraved. Utterly dismayed, she hid her face in the crook of his neck as his words came back to taunt her.

I haven’t forgotten the way you straddled me or how desperately you rubbed yourself against me.

I treated you exactly how you wanted to be treated.

Your true nature.

How could she persuade him that she was not like this, that her reaction that night had surprised and frightened her in equal measure? How could she argue that she was not a lust-crazed creature when the same thing was happening right now? He would never believe her. Why would he? She had been startingly forward with him that first night. His first impression of her had been of a woman so lost to common decency that she had spent the evening before her wedding eyeing up her husband’s squire in lust, then had him taken to her bedchamber in the middle of the night so she could make love to him.

There would be no changing this impression now, least of all when she was naked and spread open beneath him.

All she could do was try to make him understand that it did not make her any less respectable in other ways.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me but I swear I’m not the wanton you think I am.” She felt close to tears at the idea that he might be disgusted by her now that they had finally reached an understanding. “With my first husband it was never like this, and I know you will not believe me but I?—”

“Hush, I know, sweetheart,” Connor interrupted her. He didn’t sound repulsed or even shocked. Her breathing eased a bit. Maybe he did believe her. “Listen to me. You want me, you desire me, there is nothing wrong with that. It shouldn’t scare you, and it definitely doesn’t scare or disgust me. That you did not feel it with your first husband doesn’t mean that you should not feel it with me. I did not feel desire for my late wife, the Lord may forgive me, but I do with you. We have this heat between us, and I will not allow anything or anyone to tell you that it is wrong.”

Hope surged within her. “So, it’s normal?” Oh, if only it could be!

“Yes. Your body is responding to my touch, as mine is responding to yours. I’m aroused. I want you just as much as you want me. Feel this.” He took her hand and placed it on his hardness. Esyllt barely repressed a gasp. It was even harder than the morning he had made her hold him, the undeniable proof of his desire. “It is good that we have this heat between us, for we will spend the rest of our lives together, and in that time I will come countless times to your bed. I would hate it if you endured it like a chore. It is much better if we both get pleasure out of our coupling, don’t you think?”

He nudged at her nose with his, the tender gesture at odds with the shocking words.

“Yes, but...” She bit her lip and let go of his manhood. There was still something she needed to ask.

“But what?” Connor encouraged.

“As much as I want you, I dread you taking me. Last time you did, it was almost unbearable. I felt as if I would explode and then... I did not.” She found it hard to explain herself, because what she was saying made little sense. “It... it started well but in the end it was almost painful and I don’t know if I can bear to feel like this ever again.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, this is all my fault. It is not supposed to happen that way, you are supposed to ‘explode’ as you say, but I teased you that first night and stopped it from happening. I’m sorry.” Connor crushed her in his embrace, sounding filled with remorse. “I took my revenge on you that way, to my everlasting shame, I denied you the release you needed to make you pay for wanting to fool Lord Sheridan. I promise I will never do that again. Tonight it will be different. You will get the pleasure you deserve when I take you, more than once if I can control myself.”

His hand reached to the place between her legs. Esyllt gasped when he cupped her intimately.

“Do you trust me?” The low, sensual voice matched the slow, teasing strokes of his fingers. Her body was ready for him, warm and slick already. How could she not trust him when he was making her feel so good?

“Yes.”

“Do you remember how it felt when I used my mouth on you?”

“Yes.” How could she forget such a thing?

“It will be the same this time, you will experience the same release. Only it will be even better, with me inside you.” He gave her a tender kiss. “Let me make amends for denying you your pleasure that first night.”

A finger slid inside her. Esyllt whimpered. Oh, God, there it was, the sweet agony, the desperate need clawing at her. She could not face it, whatever he said.

“No, I can’t...” She grabbed his wrist but he did not stop.

“You can. Would it help if I kissed your breasts?”

“Yes,” she panted. Anything to distract her from the pressure building inside her. The green eyes caught fire, as if the idea aroused him as much as it aroused her, quite a feat, because she was on fire.

“Then let me do that.”

Esyllt moaned when his lips, hot and demanding, closed around her nipple and drew it deep into his mouth. As he started to suckle her, his finger slid inside her heat again, then another joined it. She couldn’t think, couldn’t understand what he was doing. Her whole body was burning, the tension in her muscles reached an almost unbearable point. It was just like that first night, unbearable.

“It’s happening again,” she whimpered.

“I know. Let go, Esyllt, give your pleasure to me.”

The order was all it took. Esyllt fell. Everything stopped functioning at the same time and all the liquid poured out of her body.

Before she could make sense of what had happened, Connor surged inside of her, hard and fierce, stoking her desire anew. She opened her eyes. He was above her, just like that first night, in her. Only this time he wasn't slow, he wasn’t careful, he wasn’t teasing. The look in his eyes stole her breath away.

He was on the verge of losing control.

“Come again,” he ordered gruffly. “You need to come again for me, I won’t stop until you do.”

Even if she had wanted to, she could not have resisted the waves crashing over her. This time it did not worry or frighten her. She surrendered to the pleasure and it wasn’t long before her body shattered, pulsing around his shaft.

Another few thrusts and he stilled, emptying himself deep inside her, so deep she felt the warmth spread all over her.

Perfection.

Connor fell by her side, his breathing as ragged as her own. Although she had not been the one exerting herself, Esyllt was utterly spent. She could barely open her eyes or move. A hand landed on her breast and she did not resist the torpor stealing over her. Moments later, she was asleep.

Esyllt woke up in the middle of the night, completely engulfed in Connor’s arms. Her nose was pressed against his chest, and she was almost buried under the covers. Warm... so warm. So safe. She moved and gave a sigh.

“Awake, sweetheart?” he asked instantly. Had he even slept?

“Yes.”

His hand came to her face and he brushed away a lock of hair from her brow. “Tired?”

“No.”

He gave a grunt and came to position himself above her. “Afraid?”

“No.” She smiled in the darkness and opened her legs to him.

“More?” The word was little more than a groan in her ear.

“Yes.”

An owl cried into the night.