Chapter 5

Chapter Five

“ Y ou will no doubt be relieved to know that I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” Esyllt’s heart started to pump erratically in her chest. Connor was leaving? And she was supposed to be relieved? She was not. In the last week she’d thought they had come to some sort of understanding. Was she wrong? Had all her efforts at conciliation come to nothing? He had still not bedded her, but he had come to her every night, and since the meeting with Gruffydd, he had even started to seek her out during the day.

And now he was leaving?

Far from being relieved, she was filled with dismay at the idea. Only a few days ago she would have been delighted to see him go but today... well, today she was not.

“Matthew and I are going to Sheridan Manor. There are some matters for us to attend to as we left in haste. We will be gone a few weeks, possibly even a couple of months, I do not know. In any case, it doesn’t matter, I imagine that the longer we are gone, the better. Our presence here has not been greeted with what I would call enthusiasm.”

No, it had not. And yet... It was not as bad as all that. She had started to see that the servants had thawed toward their new master. Because of the language barrier, they could not talk to him, but it seemed they were no longer avoiding him. It was a progress of sorts. As for her, she had made peace with the idea of being married again, because against all odds, her new husband was not the monster she had feared he would be.

“You might get a warmer welcome if you didn’t come back surrounded by so many fierce-looking knights,” she could not help but retort.

“Oh, so it’s my fault, is it?” He sounded amused. “Well, I’ll be sure to return with only a small retinue next time. It’s just as well. The men who actually want to come live here are few anyway, and I would hate to force anyone to settle in such a hostile country.”

Well, she had deserved that, she supposed. “That is not quite what I meant.”

“I know,” he soothed. “And I agree with you. Patience and persuasion can sometimes achieve what brute force can’t.”

She could only nod.

The next morning, as promised, Connor was gone. She watched him ride out of the gate with a heavy heart.

For seven long weeks Esyllt reverted to the life she’d been living since Gwyn had died. The irony was not lost on her. Married or widowed, she ended up being the sole one in charge of Castell Esgyrn. But whereas she hadn’t minded at first, she now did, because in a short week, she had seen what it would be like to have a reliable ally in what was a monumental task.

The only good thing about Connor’s absence was that she had gotten her daughter back. With the English gone, she had called for Sian’s return. Her pleasure at being reunited with the little girl and being able to assure her she would like her stepfather gave her the patience to wait for his return.

When the snow started to melt, she found herself looking forward to seeing him again. How much longer would he stay away? Would he even want to come back to Wales? He’d said few of his men wanted to live here, and she couldn’t blame them. Life here could be dangerous for the invaders. Entire towns were burnt without second thoughts, houses were razed to the ground for no reason at all, and people were killed as a matter of course. She would understand if he preferred to stay in the safety of his own home without the bother of the wife he’d only married to appease his king.

But the day the last patch of snow in the shade of the lists surrendered, Connor came back.

The retinue of Englishmen, much smaller than on the day of their wedding, passed through the gates on lathered horses. It was obvious they had been riding hard all day. Absurdly, the realization sent Esyllt’s nerves into a tangle. It looked as if he had pushed his men so that they could reach Castell Esgyrn before nightfall, instead of postponing their reunion for another day. She couldn’t understand why he would have done such a thing. After an absence of almost two months, another evening would have made no difference.

“My lady.”

Connor jumped down from the saddle and walked up to her, all tall, dark and brooding. In his chainmail and spurred boots, he looked even more formidable than in her memory, which was saying something.

To her surprise, once he’d stopped in front of her, he wrapped a hand around her waist, drew her to him and kissed her full on the mouth, leaving her slightly breathless—and thoroughly confused. It was not an intimate kiss, per se, but they had never shared such intimacy before, especially not in front of other people. Matthew, who, inevitably, was part of the retinue, seemed just as surprised as she was, and not best pleased.

“What is this, my lord?” Esyllt couldn’t help but ask.

“Can’t I kiss my own wife?” He kept her close while he spoke.

“You can, but I do not see why you would want to,” she replied with some spirit. “You leave me for weeks on end, you do not send so much as a word in all this time and now you are behaving as if we were passionate lovers.” It made no sense.

“Mm, not quite. Passionate lovers do more than give each other such tame kisses, you know,” he whispered in her ear. “If we were passionate lovers, I would have lifted you into my arms and marched you to your chamber before you could even take in a breath. And once I had kicked the door closed and thrown you on the bed, I would have fallen on you like a starved wolf devouring his prey, all this before I even removed my hauberk. You would this very moment be spreading your legs for me, and crying my name.”

Esyllt whimpered at the reaction his shocking words provoked inside her. Suddenly she wished he would do just that, sweep her into his arms and bring her to bed where he would feast on her. Well, she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had succeeded in filling her mind with lewd images.

“The point is, I do not understand you.”

How could she? The man was a mass of contradictions. He was wary of what she might do to him, yet he slept in her bed. He was her husband and an Englishman, yet he trusted her to administer Castell Esgyrn in his stead. He had left her a week after their wedding but upon his return he had kissed her as naturally as if he had been pleased to be reunited with her. He described shocking acts to her and talked of devouring her, but he had yet to bed her properly.

“There is nothing to understand,” he answered breezily, keeping her tight against his mail-clad chest. “We are married. It is natural that I should greet you after an absence of six weeks, don’t you think?”

“Seven weeks,” she rectified before thinking.

“Ah. So you kept count?” he asked, eyes gleaming. “I hadn’t dared hope as much.”

“I...”

Esyllt could have kicked herself for falling into his trap. She had not meant to sound as if she’d been languishing in his absence, yet that was exactly what she had done. Though she hated to admit it to herself, time had dragged on without him. She had missed him every day. Obviously, she was a mass of contradictions as well, for how could she feel that way toward someone she had known for such a short time? How could she miss a husband she had never wanted to marry? How could she feel comfortable in the arms of a man she had every reason to be wary of? After what he had done to her on the night of his arrival, she should hate him and consider herself well rid of him.

But instead, she had woken up every morning hoping that this would be the day he would finally come back.

Most of all, she had missed his warm presence at night. Sleeping with someone was a new, pleasurable experience, and even if she had been too shy to do what she wanted to do—press herself against his long body—she had made sure that a part of their bodies touched before she fell asleep. Though she kept her back to him at all times, she liked to feel she was not alone in bed. A toe brushing against his leg or, more daringly, the swell of her buttocks resting against his lean hip, she had been unable to resist the urge to snuggle up to him. One night, the one before his departure, she had woken up in his arms. Whether he had reached out to her in his sleep, or she had been the one nestling herself into his arms, she did not know. Either way, she had been unable to move away, and she had drifted back to sleep with her nose pressed against his neck.

They had only spent seven days together, and yet she had the impression that they had known each other their whole lives. How could that be when they were total strangers, from different countries, who had not desired this union?

She moved away from Connor, realizing that everyone was waiting for him to proceed to the great hall before attending to their own needs. Even Matthew was silent, as if witnessing something extraordinary.

Wishing to re-establish herself in the role of mistress of the place, and in control, Esyllt reverted back to polite civility.

“Will you and your men have a cup of ale, my lord? I wager you have earned it.”

Connor smiled at his wife’s reaction. He was not fooled by the attempt at detachment. She was looking at him with composure and behaving like a chatelaine ought, but there was a flush to her cheeks that made her turmoil clear. Earlier, her body had relaxed in his arms, as if she craved the embrace without even realizing it. Her lips had softened under his, betraying a desire to be kissed she would never have admitted to. It mattered not if she did or not. He knew the truth.

She was pleased to see him, to be held and to be kissed.

How right he had been to demand an extra effort from the exhausted men and horses. When Esgyrn Castle had appeared into view at the edge of the forest, and he’d understood that he could reach it before nightfall if they increased the speed, he had given the order to push on.

And when he’d seen her walk into the bailey, tall and regal in a dark gown that made her skin glow, the impulse to kiss her had been so impervious that he had not even tried to fight it. Unexpectedly, he had missed her too, and now that she was in front of him, he did not wonder why. Just like it had on the night they had met, everything about her drew her to him. She smelled divine, and after being stuck with a retinue of men who hadn’t bathed for a sennight, all he wanted to do was bury his face in her sweet-smelling neck and breathe in deeply.

Leaving Matthew to oversee the men and horses, he followed her into the great hall where a welcome fire was blazing. Though the days were getting warmer at last, with the sun sunk below the horizon, it was growing chilly.

He accepted the cup she was handing him with a nod. “Everything all right here?”

“Of course.” Her eyes narrowed at the question. “To ensure I took care of the domain adequately, is that why you came back so quickly?”

His lips quivered at the use of the word “quickly”. He knew full well she was remonstrating because she had thought his absence too long. Hadn’t she counted the days until they were reunited in the same way he had?

“No. I trust you to have managed Esgyrn Caslte well in my absence,” was all he said. “And now, after a few hard days on the road, I wish for a hearty meal, a warm bath, and a good sleep, in that precise order.”

“I’ll see to it that you get it all, my lord,” Esyllt said, appearing every inch like the meek, dutiful wife he knew she was not.

Finally, sated and refreshed after an excellent meal and a sweet-scented bath, Connor joined Esyllt in her bedchamber. That she had not been sure whether he would come to her or not was obvious from the way she blinked when she saw him in the door frame. As luck would have it, he had caught her just at the right time. She had not had time to put on her dressing gown yet and the linen shift she was wearing was almost transparent. Her hair fell in loose strands over her back and her skin was glowing from her recent ablutions. If ever there had been a sight to rouse a man’s blood, this was it. His blood certainly responded.

“My l-lord,” she stammered. “I thought you would want to sleep in your bed tonight if you’re tired.”

“I don’t. I will sleep here, like I did before I left.”

Nothing could have made him admit it, but he was dying to touch her. He had almost added that after his bath, and before his sleep, he needed a wild romp between the sheets with his wife but he knew that was not the way to go about it. Eventually he would bed her, but he would have to wait, not pounce on her the night of his return like a sailor jumping on the first whore he saw upon reaching shore. Some finesse was required here.

“Tell me about your first husband,” he asked instead, surprising her—and himself with the demand.

“Why?”

“You do not need to know why to answer me. I know he was older than you, but I don’t know much more.” He couldn’t have said why he wanted to know, so it was better to invoke his right as a husband to have his wishes obeyed. Esyllt didn’t seem impressed but she answered nonetheless.

“At the death of my parents, I was seventeen. Gwyn married me. He had been one of my father’s closest friends and they had arranged the union between them when Father lay on his deathbed.” She let out a laugh that held no humor. “Believe it or not, he had wanted to prevent an unscrupulous English lord from claiming me, or rather Castell Esgyrn and my extensive domains, for himself. It seems he was right to fear such an eventuality, for that is exactly what happened.”

Fear... The word sat ill with Connor.

“I am English, and I am a lord,” he agreed, crossing his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t necessarily follow that you will be ill-used.”,

“No, but in the wrong hands my domain might.”

“My hands are perfectly capable,” he snapped. “I thought you’d have realized that by now.”

Oh, oh. And now she had angered the beast, Esyllt thought with a sinking heart. In truth, she was not surprised, for, if she had not exactly tried to rouse Connor’s ire, she’d been rather confrontational since he’d arrived.

“Land!” he spat. “Is that all that matters to you? Do you prefer a husband who treats you well or one who merely ensures that your land remains in Welsh hands? Are you saying that you are less valuable than an expanse of grass-covered mud?”

Esyllt blinked. This was not something she had ever wondered about. Did she really place the integrity of a piece of land above her own peace of mind and possible happiness?

No. But this would only be a relevant question if she were free to choose her husband. As she was not, she’d had to forget her peace of mind and happiness in favor of what could be guaranteed, namely the safety of the people relying on her. As to her husband treating her well, Connor was a hypocrite for even suggesting that her agreeing to marry Gwyn had been a bad decision. He had never played humiliating games with her, he’d only wanted to protect her.

“You need not make it sound as if you were a model of solicitude. Or have you forgotten what you did to me the night before our wedding?” He had enjoyed getting the upper hand and showing her who was master. That was not something to be proud of.

“Hardly.” The corner of his lip curled. “It was quite memorable.”

Esyllt forced herself to ignore the flash of heat that wicked smile provoked in her body. “So I have to assume this is your idea of good treatment? Proving that you are stronger than me and could have me under you in bed at any time? I cannot say I care for it!”

“I was only in your bed because you had brought me there yourself,” he retorted. “Had your men not brought me up to your room tied up like a sucking pig ready for roasting, I would never have behaved so crudely. It was never my intention to force you to reveal your true nature before our wedding but you forced my hand, not the other way around.”

“My true nature!” Esyllt almost choked on the words. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You are a brazen, lustful woman. Do not think I have forgotten the way you came to straddle me on the chair or how you rubbed yourself against me once you had allowed me to lie on top of you in bed.” Connor gave a groan and she remembered her furious writhing. Indeed she had behaved like the veriest wanton. “I don’t think that a woman who provokes a man thus is new to it and she cannot pretend to be shocked when the man responds to her advances. I was lying between your spread legs, for Christ’s sake, and I was there with your full agreement. In taking you, I treated you exactly as you wanted to be treated.”

There was nothing she could answer to that. If he really thought she’d gotten what she’d wanted all along then there was no way to make him change his mind.

Still, Esyllt’s body combusted in hot shame, because he was wrong in at least one way. She was not a wanton, a brazen lustful woman who went around teasing men. She had been the first one surprised by her reaction. That night her senses had taken over, something that had never happened to her, and she had, for a wild moment, not been herself. The feel of Connor’s body over hers, of his manhood poised at her entrance, hard and ready to push in, had utterly undone her. It had been like nothing she had ever experienced, irresistible. It was as if her body had been made to welcome his and his to fill her, as if they fit together as perfectly as a walnut kernel fit inside its shell.

It had been delicious, beautiful even.

And he had spoilt it all by withdrawing from her in disgust. As if that was not enough, he was now using what had happened to insult her.

It was not to be borne.

Pain and shame overwhelmed her. She had wanted him to come to her that night? Perhaps, but now she wanted him gone.

“You can sleep here, my lord, and get the sleep you asked for. But you shall do it without me. I will not impose my true, brazen, lustful nature on you a moment longer,” she said, fighting back tears. Would that he had stayed in England if he’d only come back to make her feel so wretched! “Your bedchamber is empty. I will go there.”

“Wife.” Connor caught her by the arm before she could leave the room.

“My name is not ‘wife’,” she snapped, wondering what possessed her to provoke him so when he was already angry. Probably her own anger. She was almost suffocating with it. “It’s Esyllt. I suggest you start using it. And I am amazed that you would want to be reminded that you are bound to me, if you think me little more than a whore.” The word had difficulty passing her lips but she forced it through. Wasn’t that what he thought?

The green eyes flashed but she was past heeding his warning. “Wait, I never said that. Do not put words into my mouth, ever !”

“What should I put instead?”

He growled and, before she knew what was happening, Esyllt was flat on her back on the bed, pinned under him. Again. And the shift she was wearing did little to prevent her from feeling how hard he was. Again. She swallowed.

What would he do now?

Connor could barely breathe for anger and desire combined. His little wife wanted to provoke him as soon as he’d come back? That was a dangerous game to play while wearing nothing more than a thin shift. She was pushing him when he’d been trying his damndest not to impose his desire on her? She would soon see he had a snapping point, as patient as he liked to think himself.

And she wanted to know what she should put into his mouth? The answer was simple.

Her.

He would devour her, get his fill of her, until she screamed his name and was too weak to even think of provoking him further.

“Open your legs.”

Her eyes widened. “I?—”

“Open. Or I will do it for you.”

For a dreadful moment he feared she would not comply. But despite the threat he’d just uttered, he didn’t want to force her. It never came to that. Slowly, her gaze still locked with his, she eased her thighs apart. As she was only wearing her shift, it was easy to expose her to his gaze—and mouth. The hem was lifted in a hurry and her maddening scent hit his nostrils. Under the floral bouquet he had smelled in her hair, he detected a headier, spicier scent. Arousal spiked through his spine, causing his eyes to close.

He started to salivate in anticipation of the softness he would feel against his mouth. He extended his tongue and groaned. This was it, finally, the first taste of his infuriating Welsh wife, the woman who had haunted his nights while at Sheridan Manor. How many times had he brought about his release while imagining this moment? More than he was comfortable admitting.

“No!” Esyllt closed her legs—or tried to. Connor placed his hands on her thighs to prevent her from doing so. Now that she had surrendered, he would not allow her to retreat.

“Yes,” he said ruthlessly, pinning her in place. “I told you I would give you what you deserved, and this is it. Open for me.”

He waited, knowing she would not be able to resist.

When she did, he gave her everything he’d dreamed of giving her. His mouth to kiss her wet folds, his teeth to nibble at her hidden pearl, his fingers to squeeze with her intimate muscles, and then finally his tongue to soothe when she spasmed so fiercely he thought she was going to pass out. The whole thing was beautiful, perfect. She squirmed, she bucked, and surrendered in a long agonized rasp. Her release coated his lips and he knew he was perilously close to coming himself. For a moment, he considered tearing at his braies and plunging into her but then sanity prevailed. He had only meant to make a point, not to get carried away. Tonight was not the night to consummate their marriage. He refused to do it like this, after an argument, while he was half-crazed with lust.

At last the world quietened and his groin stopped throbbing.

With regret, Connor removed his fingers from her softness. Desperate to prolong the moment, he put them into his mouth and sucked. A mistake. His desire, momentarily mastered, leapt to life again. He nipped it in the bud, determined to be sensible.

Slowly he crept up Esyllt’s sated body, leaving her legs spread open and her womanhood exposed, and came to speak into her ear.

“Every time you feel like putting words in my mouth, remember that the only thing I will ever allow you to put there is your delectable little pussy. It is not only women who can use their mouths to pleasure their lover.”

Esyllt gave a squeal and hid her crimson face in her hands. Connor growled and closed his eyes. This had been a close cut. Smelling her arousal, seeing her writhe for him, hearing her moans, tasting her release, had almost pushed him beyond what he was capable of enduring. Had he not called on all his inner strength, he would have taken her in a frenzied assault he would only have regretted later. Forcing her to accept pleasure was one thing, showing her a side of him he wasn’t sure he liked, quite another.

Still fully dressed, he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. Even exhausted by the long ride, he knew it would be a long time before he could will himself to sleep.