Page 31 of The Handfasting
He took another step.
She licked her lips. “And they walk…”
He took a third step.
“In the direction o’ the sun, so…”
His fourth step brought him close enough to detect the smoky desire in her eyes. And when he lowered his gaze, he could see the sweet curve between her breasts where the linen gapped away.
“Tell me somethin’,” he whispered, almost afraid of the answer.
“Aye?” Her voice cracked.
“Do ye love me at all?”
As she stared up at him, her eyes filled with tears, and her chin began to tremble.
He felt his heart crack. She might not want to say the words. But the answer was there in her silence.
He clenched his jaw against bitter disappointment.
But just as he would have turned and left her alone—perhaps to drown his sorrows in a barrel of Bordeaux—she collided against his chest with a great sob.
“Oh, aye, god help me, but I do, No?l. I love ye so much.”
She rained kisses and tears on him in equal measure. The warmth of her admission was a soothing balm to his heart. He held her close, too lost in relief and joy to think beyond the moment.
Their kissing quickly fanned the flames of love from affection to desire, then from desire to desperation. No?l didn’t want to think about tomorrow. Or his king. Or hisrealbride. All he wanted was one beautiful night with this irresistible woman who, aye, loved him.
Ysenda knew she was playing a perilous game. Yet she brazenly continued, like the lads who leaped through the Yule bonfire. She couldn’t stop herself.
The situation was impossible. She hadn’t been able to make Cathalin fall in love with No?l, any more than she could makeherselffalloutof love with him.
And now that she’d admitted she cared for him, she couldn’t confess that she’d deceived him. It would break his heart.
Yet even as the deadly knot of lies and deception wrapped around her, all she could think about was making love to him. She didn’t want to think about her sister. Or No?l’s return to France. Or what would become of Caimbeul. All she wanted was to live for this moment.
Somehow their clothes fell away. Somehow they wound up on the bed. In a delicious tangle of limbs, they let the rest of the world disappear.
His lips kissed away her guilt. His fingers caressed away her cares. And with his bare flesh pressed to hers, there was no room for remorse.
She floated in heavenly oblivion. For now, all that mattered were the two of them and their compelling quest for pleasure.
This time, it was more than mere coupling. She wanted to show him how much she cared for him. She wanted him to feel her love in the deepest recesses of his soul. And she wanted to feel cherished in return.
When he pressed gently into her, she sighed in relief. Looking up at him with a languid gaze, she saw the same sweet satisfaction in his midnight eyes.
When he began to move within her, she met him, thrust for thrust. Just as they had hiked hand-in-hand across the snowy fields, they traversed the landscape of desire together.
His gaze burned into hers. His breath sent shivers along her skin. His tongue bathed her with intoxicating nectar. His fingertips teased and coaxed her to greater heights.
Wanting to keep him with her forever, she wrapped her legs around him. She dug her heels into his buttocks, making him groan with bliss.
He laced his fingers through hers, anchoring her to the mattress. She caught her breath as her lust sharpened to a fine point. Then it exploded into a hundred beautiful fragments. She arched up and clenched her fists in his.
He answered her, surging into her with a ragged cry of release.
Then she stiffened.
