Page 62 of The Lord's Compass
How that hair had looked with pieces fallen out of its pins as she stood outside, so powerful with the bow in her hands, the muscles in her arms rippling with strength as she drew back the drawstring.
He knew that many men had been surprised when he had told them of his infatuation with Lady Faith. They wondered how he could want a woman so strong, so against submitting herself to a man.
But the truth was, he admired her power – both inside and out.
And he wanted that strength with him, on him, beneath him.
The longer he pictured her in his mind, the more he desired her, until he found his hand wandering down to the waistband of his breeches.
It didn’t take more than a couple of strokes for him to be groaning, her name spilling from his lips.
He was so caught up in what he was doing that he didn’t see the door open, didn’t hear the padding of her footsteps, didn’t even note the dip of her weight on the bed.
It wasn’t until she spoke that he was made aware of her presence and belatedly noticed all the signs she was approaching that he had missed.
“Need some help?” came her voice, full of laughter and yet thick with desire.
His eyes sprang open to find her sitting in front of him, a smile teasing her lips before her tongue darted out and licked them, her eyes glassy with desire as she stared at him and what he was doing to himself.
“Faith,” he ground out, his voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”
“I came,” she said, holding her head up high, “for my wedding night.”
* * *
Faith was doingher best to exude confidence that she simply didn’t feel.
But as she had lain in bed alone, staring up at the ceiling, she hadn’t been able to resist the urge to go to Eric and to be with him as she had fantasized about over and over again.
He was the face of every hero in her books. He was the man who haunted her dreams. He was, annoyingly, persistent in being by her side no matter her protestations.
So she might as well take advantage.
Her heart had thudded against her ribcage as she had padded over the thick rug between their rooms until she stood outside of his bedroom door, looking from one side to the other as though she was about to be caught doing something illicit – which was silly, for Eric was now her husband and, unlike the many other times they had shared a bed, this time it was expected.
The door to his room had creaked as she had pushed it open, only to be greeted by darkness within, but for the soft orange glow cast about the room from the embers burning in the fireplace. She had been able to make out his large frame on the bed, and her breath caught as she wondered whether he even wanted her here.
Then her name had emerged from his lips as a groan of supplication, and it was only then that she had realized he was not still, nor sleeping – but that his hand was moving beneath the black trousers he had worn for the day, the sleeves of his long white linen shirt pushed up as he worked himself back and forth.
A warm flush crept its way up her cheeks as she rigidly stood and watched him, the light dancing off of his cheekbones, his dark hair falling over his face.
When he had murmured her name again, she had started, wondering if he had noticed her. As his eyes had remained closed, however, she had realized that he must be picturing her. She hadn’t been able to help but wonder just how he was envisioning her.
She had padded over the hardwood floor to the carpet, sinking softly down beside him on the bed, the silk canopy brushing against her cheek as she did. When she leaned over him, his warmth radiated toward her skin, drawing her ever closer.
He was so handsome, so captivating that she nearly doubted herself and ran from the room before he noticed her presence, and to stop herself, she did the only thing she could think of – which was to do as Eric did himself and introduce some levity to the situation.
"Need some help?" she had asked, and that's when his eyes had flown open and caught hers, surprise within them but not alarm. Surprise which quickly turned to a deep appreciation that caused Faith's cheeks to flush even hotter.
When he had asked her what she was doing there, she had told him the truth – she was there for her wedding night.He could take that as he wished.
He reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing away a few stray strands of hair that had fallen across her face. His thumb stroked along the curve of her jawline as they stared into each other’s eyes, light-heartedness beginning to fade as instead, Faith's hunger for him reflected back at her.
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she leaned forward to kiss him, and before she had barely moved he sat up forcefully, meeting her more than halfway as his hands wrapped around her upper arms to hold her still while his lips took hers prisoner. All he had needed was the invitation. There was never any gentle press of their lips upon each other’s – but then, with them, it had never been like that. It had been a fiery passion, whether they had been arguing, kissing, or pursuing the next answer in this treasure hunt of theirs.
His tongue sought hers as he branded her, their surrendering to their need for one another binding them together as much as their vows to one another had.
In one swift motion, Eric lifted Faith up as though she weighed nothing and laid her back on the bed, holding himself above her as his eyes ran over her from top to bottom like he was preparing to eat his favorite dessert before he settled atop her body. His hands were seemingly everywhere as he ran them along her curves, and she ached to be closer to him, to feel his skin upon hers. In this moment, she finally understood the expression of two flesh becoming one, as she was struck by her longing for the warmth of his skin, to touch him as he had been doing to himself.
