Chapter 3

Chapter Three

U nable to sleep with a stranger in her bed, even if he was her husband, even if he looked like a pagan god—or maybe because he looked like a pagan god—Esyllt wrapped herself into a blanket and went to the bay window to watch the starry night. What was she to do now? Who was this man she had married? Earlier that night she had told him to watch his back because she’d killed her first husband and here he was, naked, unprotected, in her bed, and so untroubled that he’d fallen asleep at a moment’s notice.

The night before she had tried to put him off and make him renounce their union, and here he was, her legally wed husband for all to see.

Everything she’d tried had been a spectacular failure and she had no other plan, so what was she to do now?

Esyllt stared through the window and into the darkness below. Though she’d been married for nearly a decade, she had never spent the night in the same bed as a man, much less one as young and attractive as the one currently taking all the space on her mattress. She could not deny being rather breathless at the idea of joining him, because that young and attractive man had every right to roll over to his side, take hold of her and impose his desire on her whether she wanted him to or not. He had said he would not, and he was currently asleep, but she could not be too cautious. If her arm brushed against his as she turned over, who knew what desire she might awaken in him.

A man was a man, and she had already seen that Connor Hunter was as virile as they came.

What would the next few weeks bring? How would she cope with being constantly on her guard? Would her new husband even stay at Castell Esgyrn? Perhaps in a few days he would return to England. Being married was one thing, living with his wife quite another. He might decide to return to his former life... his beloved brother... his mistresses...

When she tried to move her neck and felt naught but a stab of pain, Esyllt realized that she had fallen asleep on the hard stone seat with her head at an odd angle. Outside it was dark, even if the line above the horizon was slightly lighter. Dawn was still some time away.

Feeling chilled and stiff, she decided to risk lying in the bed a moment. After all, if she was careful, Connor might not notice she had joined him, and after a night spent on the cold bench in the bay window, she needed warmth and softness.

Silent as a shadow, she went to the side of the bed and watched him a moment. His beauty was even more glaring when his face was relaxed. In sleep he was just like a marble carving of a pagan god, one whose whole purpose was to lure mortal women to their doom. The idea that such a man was married to her, that she was not only allowed, but expected, to make love to him was nothing short of astounding. Pleasure had been the last thing Gruffydd had taken into account when choosing her husband, she knew, so it only made her feel all the luckier to be married to a man who appealed to her senses so.

When she approached the bed he did not even stir. He had not been lying when he’d claimed to be tired.

Esyllt could not resist the opportunity of taking a closer look at him while he was unaware of being observed. With the embers of the fire, she lit a tallow candle and tiptoed back to the bed. Holding it high, she illuminated the scene—and her heart skipped a beat. While she’d busied herself with the candle, the covers had slipped, revealing a long, muscular chest that seemed hewn out of stone.

Bathed in moonlight, her husband’s body had been spectacular. In the light of the candle, it seemed too perfect to be real. One arm was flung over his head in perfect abandon, the pose highlighting its perfect shape and the elegance of his hand. His lips were slightly parted and the muscles on his stomach twisted and corded every time he took a breath. Esyllt could not take her eyes from the sight, she could barely blink or breathe. The golden light of the flame did full justice to his beauty, filling every dip and hollow with velvety shadows, shadows she wanted to touch and lick.

Her eyes followed the line of dark hair that started just above his navel and disappeared under the covers. It looked soft, impossibly enticing. Heat bloomed in Esyllt’s veins and she bit back a moan of longing. Could she lean in and stroke it? Could she dip her head and kiss him while he was oblivious to his surroundings? Just when she opened her lips in anticipation for his taste, he moved and, jerked out of her contemplation, she almost dropped the candle. A drop of hot fat fell onto his naked torso.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

All she saw was Connor rear up and grab her by the throat. The candle fell onto floor, plunging the world into darkness. Fortunately, the flame had been too feeble to set the rushes on fire, but the obscurity meant Connor would not see who she was.

“It’s only me, Esyllt!” she cried out in panic, clawing at the hand holding her by the neck.

“I know it’s you, I did not expect anyone else to try and crawl into bed with me,” he growled, throwing her onto the mattress. A heartbeat later she was flat on her back, with her wrists pinned high above her head. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she could see the ire flashing across Connor’s face. “What’s this, wife? Trying to kill your second husband in his sleep?”

Kill him? She’d actually considered kissing him! “I-I didn’t?—”

“Oh, so you didn’t just try to stab me?” he hissed, trapping her under his hard body.

“No, I swear. It was only the c-candle. Some fat fell on you when I moved,” Esyllt explained, fighting her mounting terror.

The man was formidable in his anger and strong as an ox. If he really thought she had been about to kill him, then there would be no quarter. She could understand why he would suspect foul play. Indeed, he would have been startled out of sleep, and he might well have mistaken the stab of sudden pain for the tip of a dagger piercing his flesh.

“What were you doing lurking in the dark?” he asked, relaxing his hold marginally. Perhaps he was starting to doubt he’d been in real danger.

“I-I was watching you.” She was so afraid, so intent on having him believe her that she did not even think of lying. Besides, what else could she say?

He snorted, as if that were a ridiculous answer. “Why?”

“Because... You’re beautiful.”

The admission, so far removed from the one he was expecting, made Connor blink.

He had woken up to a sharp pain on his stomach and his wife bent over his sleeping form. Faced with what he had identified as a threat, his reaction had been instinctive. Had he been too hasty earlier in dismissing Esyllt’s claim that she had killed her first husband and would not be above getting rid of him? What if she was truly intent on hurting him? Perhaps Matthew was right to be concerned over his safety now that they were in Wales.

But now, with his mind clear, he saw that he’d completely misread the situation. He was in no danger whatsoever, his wife had not tried to stab him, she thought him beautiful, that was all.

He released her wrists, wishing—not for the first time—that he slept less soundly at night. From as far back as he could remember, he’d slept with the sleep of the dead. It was why Esyllt’s men had been able to abduct him from his bed so easily the night before. It was highly inconvenient and he feared it might cost him dearly one day.

As to her claim that she thought him beautiful, ludicrous as he had first thought it, he now believed her. Something about the way she had said the words rang too true. She was not lying, she was fascinated by him and, what was more, she was unable to hide it. He remembered the way she’d looked at him when he’d undressed and every time her eyes landed on him her mouth parted slightly, as if she could not believe her luck at being married to a man she found so attractive.

It was an involuntary reaction, and it would no doubt annoy her to know that he was aware of it, but he was.

Because it was the same for him. Every time he looked at her, he was taken aback by how drawn he was to her. He had chosen his wife for reasons as far removed from lust as could be conceived, without even knowing what color eyes she possessed. But every time his gaze landed on her, his body gave an involuntary jolt of longing.

Like now.

He sighed. It seemed he did not even have to see her to be affected. It also happened in the dark, when her lush curves were pressed against him.

Now that he was reassured she had not tried to hurt him, he could feel his body respond to her proximity. Perhaps he should not be surprised. He was naked in bed, on top of a woman he found desirable. In the circumstances, it would be odd if his blood did not stir. He shifted slightly, not wanting her to notice the effect she had on him. He might not be able to stop himself from finding his wife desirable, but it was better not to let her know she had such power over him.

“So you find me beautiful,” he drawled.

He kept his voice calm, so she could trust him to stay in control. Trapped under a trained warrior, utterly at his mercy, she could easily take fright. But killing or even hurting her was not what he wanted to do to her.

Quite the contrary.

“I do find you beautiful.” She could not quite meet his eye but at least she was not stammering anymore. To ease her mind further and calm the raging in his blood, Connor slid off of her but he did not allow her to move away, instead keeping her tucked close against him.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” he asked. “Am I safe for now? Will you let me live until I have lost my good looks?”

“I...” Apparently, she was nonplussed by the change in mood and didn’t quite know how to answer. He decided to let her off.

“Well. Since you don’t mean to kill me I guess I could go back to sleep. Unless you wanted to make the most of my beautiful body?” he drawled. “I would be amenable.”

“No!” she instantly cried out, scrambling away. This time, he let her go. No sense in frightening her again by restraining her.

“I see that being beautiful will only get me into trouble without providing me with any advantages,” Connor mocked. She was attracted to him, but not enough to do something about it. “Thus far it has earned an abduction and a trussing up in the middle of the night, and now it has caused me to be scalded with melted fat. A little soothing would not go amiss. You could lick the wound, at least.”

Though it was dark, Esyllt would no doubt see his smile.

“Lick?” she repeated in a breath.

“The burn is here, just under my pectoral. It is not so low that you might be tempted to take me into your mouth.”

At the words his cock protested vehemently.

I’m not so far! it seemed to scream. I want to be licked as well!

“Take you into my mouth? What do you mean?”

Esyllt sounded so bewildered Connor knew she had no idea what he was talking about. How was that possible? She’d been married for years, had she not? How could her husband never have mentioned such an act to her, even if he had not demanded that she perform it? Apparently, the Welshman had not been an adventurous husband. The fool. It was hard to believe he would not have wanted to make the most of his beautiful wife in every way. Helen had always denied him this delight, but at least she’d been aware it could be done, and he’d genuinely thought that all married women knew about it.

Well, Esyllt clearly didn’t, if her furrowed brow was any indication.

Instead of answering, he arched a brow and glanced at his groin suggestively. It seemed it would be his responsibility to show her that there were many ways men and women could enjoy each other’s bodies. When she blushed, he knew she had understood what he hadn’t said out loud.

“You m-must be jesting?”

“I’m not. Some women like to pleasure their lovers in that way,” he explained, doing his best not to imagine her on her knees at his feet, performing the act. Doing so would only make him even harder than he was. “And some men like it very much.”

She seemed at a loss as to what to say, so she hid her embarrassment under a scoff. “By ‘some men,’ I’m guessing you mean you.”

Yes. He did. In fact, he didn’t know a single man who didn’t. Even Matthew, who shared surprisingly little about his personal life with him, had alluded to the pleasure he’d gotten from a bold lover on occasion.

“Why don’t you come over here and see? That would be one way to make me forget about the burn on my chest.”

In truth, he hardly felt it anymore, but his shaft was definitely throbbing. He would like nothing more than for her to ease that burn.

Alas, it was not to be.

“Good night, husband.”

“I take that for a no.” Despite his aching groin, Connor could not help a chuckle at the ice in her tone. “Good night then, wife.”

As had become her habit, Esyllt snuffed her candle and got undressed in the dark, so as to ensure Connor could not get any glimpse of her wearing only her shift. She slipped under the covers and was instantly hit by wonderful warmth. In spite of everything, it was hard to resist the impulse to snuggle up to the body stretched next to her. Her new husband was like a furnace, a welcome discovery, considering the temperature outside, and he ensured she was never cold at night.

But heat the bed was all he did.

They had been married for four days now and had yet to consummate their marriage. Although he joined her in her room every night, Connor had not tried to touch her once, and he avoided her during the day. They lived like strangers who slept in the same bed, like husband and wife who barely exchanged a word. It was all very weird, and the worst of it was, instead of being relieved that he left her alone, Esyllt resented it, which in turn annoyed her. Surely she shouldn’t be pining after him thus? If he chose to spend his days with his men instead of with her, then it meant she was free to live her life the way she wanted, and if he had not bedded her yet, then it was for the best, given what had happened the night they’d met.

Nonetheless, it was hard to convince herself that was really what she thought.

In the morning, Connor usually woke before her. For all that he slept with the sleep of the dead, he was always up before dawn. Today, though, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. The gleam in his eyes unnerved her. How long had he been staring at her thus? What was he thinking?

“Is anything the matter?” she asked, clutching at the covers. Was her shift revealing more of her breasts than she would have liked?

For a moment he looked on the verge of a confession, then he shook his head.

“Nothing is the matter, but I’m famished. Shall we go and break our fast together for once?”

Esyllt didn’t see a way of refusing to go with him, and in truth she didn’t want to. They might exchange more than a few perfunctory words if they ate together. It would be good to finally get to know him better. “Very well.”

She didn’t have time to avert her eyes before he got up. He had slept naked, as per usual, which meant he was now standing in front of her in his full glory and bathed by the first rays of the sun. How was she supposed not to be unsettled by such a sight? Connor, on the other hand, didn’t seem embarrassed in the least. Esyllt focused on her hands. Never had her nails appeared so fascinating than they did right now.

“Look at me.”

“I b-beg your pardon?”

“Look at me,” he repeated, coming to stand at the side of the bed. “I’m your husband. I will not have you avert your eyes as if you could not bear the sight of me.”

“I... You know that’s not what I think.” She had told him she found him beautiful, and she could not believe for a moment he had forgotten it.

“Then look at me.”

Calling on all her inner resolve, she did as he bade her—and all but gaped. “You are...”

Hard was what she wanted to say, only she couldn’t speak with the proof of his virility staring at her in the face. He had invaded her body once before, of course, and she had felt the strength of his arousal, but she had never seen him in such a state. On their wedding night he’d undressed in front of her, but his member had not been erect.

Now, it most definitely was, and the difference was staggering.

“Yes, I am hard,” he said matter-of-factly. “I am a man, and it is morning, so there is nothing odd in that.”

“Isn’t there?” What on earth did he mean?

A corner of his mouth lifted up. The wretched man was amused by her ignorance, just like he’d been when he’d suggested she took his member in her mouth. He’d seemed to say it was something she should have known about, or even have done before. But now that she was seeing him in his full glory she had serious doubts about her ability to do such a thing. Not that she would ever want to, of course.

“Men tend to wake up hard,” Connor explained.

Did they? “But... why?”

He raised both his hands, as if to indicate that was no reason for it, it was simply the way of things and then he cocked his head as if considering. “You know, I’m really starting to wonder why it is that someone like you doesn’t know more about men’s bodies and preferences.”

Intense heat invaded Esyllt’s cheeks, for there was no mistaking his meaning. He considered her a wanton who welcomed men to her bed as soon as they took her fancy, so he was surprised about her ignorance of men’s anatomy and tastes where bedsport was concerned. But there was a simple explanation for it. She was nothing like the woman he took her for. She’d been married at a young age, before she could take an interest in men, and her marriage had not been one based on carnal urges. Gwyn had never spent a night in her bed, nor had he been in the habit of wandering around with no clothes on, and of course she’d had no reason to see any other man naked, much less welcome them into her bed. So it was little wonder she didn’t know men woke up hard or that they liked being licked.

“Forgive me, but I am not used to seeing men naked, whether in the morning or at night.”

She’d hoped he would say that he would refrain from exposing himself in the future, so as to spare her blushes, but of course he did no such thing. Instead, he smiled and leaned in toward her, so he could purr in her ear.

“Well, I guess I will have to walk around your chamber naked more often, then, wife, so that you do get used to seeing me in all my glory.”

With those words, he drew back and looked her straight in the eye. They were so close it would be easy for him to lean in for a kiss if he wanted. Was that what he intended to do? Though he’d arrived almost a week ago and he’d already entered her body, they had never kissed. But instead of placing his lips over hers, he took her hand and guided it to his straining member.

“Here. You’ve seen it. You’ve felt it inside you. You’ve been told that you can take it in your mouth. Now you can touch it.”

Her fingers wrapped around a silky soft length forged of pure steel. Esyllt’s eyes widened. It was unlike anything she had ever touched before, warm, iron-hard. Fascinating. It felt almost alive, about to burst. She forgot that she should be outraged, or at the very least, embarrassed.

“Does it hurt?” The question came out in a breath.

Something in Connor’s eyes flashed. “Not in the way you mean. It doesn’t hurt to be hard, but it hurts not to be able to release the tension in it. That is what intercourse, or ‘coupling’ as you call it, is made for.”

Did that mean he was about to tumble her into bed? Had all this teasing been a way of telling her he was ready to bed her? Was he about to take her, not because he wanted her, but because he needed to, in his words, ‘release the tension’?

The notion made her feel both dirty and unimportant.

“Can’t release be achieved by other means?” she asked, letting go of his shaft as quickly if it had scalded her fingers.

He arched a brow in surprise. “You know about that?”

“I...” Not precisely. But she had heard talk of men bringing themselves pleasure, even if she wasn’t quite sure how. She had wondered at the time if the same could be done for women but had never dared try to find out more. “Well, can it?”

“It can. Only, it is much less satisfactory. Rather like snatching a moment’s rest on the hard floor of the great hall when what you crave is a good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed.” His lips stretched into a slow, sensual smile. “It serves a purpose, but doesn’t give you half as much pleasure as a woman’s soft body can.”

Was it the voice? Was it the look in his eyes? Was it the evocative words? Esyllt didn’t know what it was that made her insides melt like honey and her heart pound hard in her chest. In any case, it mattered not.

She shot to her feet before Connor tried to persuade her that she could give him relief he needed, or worse, that she offered it herself.

“Shall we? You were famished, remember?”