Never If Not Now - Madeline Hunter Page 0,44

not a word, but took her hand and led her away, around the camps nearby, toward the river.

She should not go. She must not. Yet she hurried her steps to keep up until they reached the riverbank.

“It is a good thing you remembered where I put the pallets. You could have ended up stroking my father’s head.”

“His snoring told me where he lay.” He looked down at her. “I am sorry there were others with me when you came. You did not have to leave. You should have stayed.”

She could not stay. She did not belong there. “Have you been with Lord Marcus all this time?”

He shook his head. “Lord Yves. Before dinner, and during it.”

“He honors you.”

“Perhaps. I will tell you about it, and you can be my counselor.” He tugged at her hands enough to encourage her to sit on the grass. He settled beside her, so close that his body warmed her side. In front of them the inky water of the river, black like the sky, showed dancing moonlight on its ripples.

“You look beautiful in the moonlight, Elinor. But then you always do.”

“You were going to tell me about Lord Yves.”

His arm moved up her back. “Later.” He turned his body toward her and pulled her into an embrace. He kissed her cheek as if he posed a question. She already knew her answer and turned so their lips met.

It had not been snoring that kept her awake, but wistful longing and an aching heart. She had foolishly fallen in love with The Devil’s Blade, the tournament champion. He could give her nothing except these secret kisses and would promise her even less. She might be nothing more but the woman who was available, but she would hold him while she could before they parted forever.

His passion rose, carrying her along in mutual pleasure. She sensed a brooding in him fall away until they shared joy and smiles along with deep kisses and physical warmth. He laid her down, and while he kissed and bit her neck and chest, he peeled away the mantle and lowered her chemise until her breasts were bare.

Such pleasure then, as he teased and aroused her with fingertips, tongue and mouth. Breathless from sensations pitching higher with each moment, she looked up at the sky, at stars that reminded her so much of the lights in his eyes.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured while he caressed her breasts. Each pass of his palm over the tips sent new spikes of delicious excitement down her core. “Bewitching.” He used his mouth again, while his hand raised the hem of her shift.

She thought he would mount her then. Instead he touched her softly, carefully, exploring her mound with his fingers. He created pleasures that crazed her until she lost hold of everything except him and the exquisite sensations. She barely swallowed cries that wanted to ring into the night. It grew more intense, more demanding, obliterating her senses to all else, until the most perfect pleasure cracked through her, bringing with it waves of astonishing, sweet release.

He took her then, while she floated in wonder. He kissed her crown as he entered, then lifted her leg over his hip so he could seat himself deeply. His thrusts made the pleasurable waves continue coursing through her. She clung to him, welcoming his hard need, reveling in the intimacy created by her love.

“Matilda is very pretty.” Elinor said it simply, while they lay on the rive bank’s grass under the stars. She had not dressed yet. Her head lay on his shoulder, and his hand rested on her breast.

“All young girls are pretty.”

Her head tilted and he knew she looked at him. “Will there be a betrothal at the great feast?”

It was ignoble to speak of it, here, now, after what he had just done and while embracing in such peace. And yet—

“I don’t know.”

“Has her father spoken to you?”

“He has made the first pass with his lance, but not yet unhorsed me.”

She laughed, then rose up on one arm and looked down. “Is the dowry handsome?”

“Extremely handsome. Only a fool would refuse it.” Not only land and silver now. The support of Lord Marcus and his friends in pursuing a title to which he had the thinnest claim. Yet it had happened before. It was not an empty offer.

“You have never been a fool. But the father is taking his time if there is no offer yet.”

“I didn’t say there was no