Page 41 of A Knight for Gwenllian

One moment they were standing in front of each other, the next they were in each other’s arms. In one heartbeat, they had gone from polite acquaintances meeting by chance on the road to passionate lovers desperate to touch, smell and taste one another. Which was little wonder. After two months without her, he was desperate to touch, smell and taste her, and he could tell she was equally as desperate for him.

Everything in him relaxed at the realization. He had dreaded seeing that she had forgotten him because she had found herself a Scottish lover during the second part of her adventure.

“You came,” Alexander told her between fiery kisses. “At last, you came back.”

Her first visit had to have been for him because, by coincidence, the morning before, he had gone over to Sheridan Manor and there had been no sign of the Scottish retinue then.

The urgency of Alexander’s kisses erased all Gwenllian’s disappointment at not finding him at Audley, all the doubts and questions she had been battling with these last few weeks, while the retinue traveled to England. He had not forgotten her. He had even missed her, judging from the way he’d galloped to reach her as soon as he had seen her.

“Yes, I came back,” she said, overwhelmed by relief, gratitude and desire. Desire that could not be denied. Now that he had kissed her, her body was on fire, demanding release. “Make love to me, here, n⁠—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Gwenllian found herself with her back against the smooth bark of a beech. Her bodice was lowered, and one breast exposed. Alexander’s mouth, hot and eager, latched on to her nipple. The pulls he gave caused her core to spasm in response. Was he going to make her come without even touching her there? She buried her fingers into his hair, relishing the wildness of the moment.

“Here. Now,” he said, his mouth full of her. “Fuck, Gwenllian, you drive me mad. You taste so good.”

It had started naturally, it carried on with the same ease.

Alexander fumbled with his hose. Once he had freed his erection, he lifted her into his arms. Her back supported by the wide tree trunk, Gwenllian wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

There. Finally, he was where she needed him, poised at her entrance.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Are you wet for me?” he rasped with what she imagined was the last shred of his sanity.

“Any wetter and I’ll die. Take me, please.”

When he entered her, she could not repress a cry. Fortunately, they were hidden from view of the castle by a clump of bushes and far enough away that no one might hear. She didn’t think she could have stopped herself from crying out anyway. Having him fill her after so long was too good. Nothing had ever felt so good.

So right.

And then Alexander started to move.

“I’m afraid I did not give you time to talk earlier.”

Alexander could not believe what had just happened. He had pounced on Gwenllian like a ravenous beast, spreading her legs and plunging inside her while holding her against a tree before she could utter more than a few words. That he had obsessed about her from the moment he had left Nead an Diabhail was no excuse. That he had seemed to take his first real breath for weeks when he had seen her appear was neither here nor there. That she had asked him to make love to her, even, was irrelevant. He should have had more control.

He had imagined many times what he would do when she finally came back, but acting so scandalously had not been one of the options. Or rather, it had been what he had fantasized doing, all the while knowing it would not be fair to her.

And yet he had been unable to stop himself. The feel of her in his arms, the softness of her lips against his, the taste of her nipples on his tongue… It had all been too much. Fortunately, she hadn’t seemed to mind. And she had been wet and ready for him, as she’d promised, her release coming with devastating ease, as if she’d been poised on the edge for too long and rendered helpless by his caresses.

“No, you didn’t,” Gwenllian sighed, “but there was not much to say anyway.”

She sounded as dazed as he felt. Their lovemaking had been explosive, almost putting paid to his customary caution. He’d been one thrust away from filling her with his seed, something he had always refused to do. For a very real and frightening moment, he had feared he wouldn’t be able to leave her warmth in time, but by some miracle, he had managed it. After withdrawing from her pulsating flesh, he had spent on the leaves at his feet, crumpled to the ground and settled her on his lap. They sat for a long moment panting, recovering from a shattering release. The connection between them was unbelievable. Never had he bedded a woman who overwhelmed his senses thus.

Was it making him lose sight of what was right? Make him forget all decency?

There had to be something, because he was losing his mind.

This was Lord Sheridan’s daughter, a noble, well-bred lady. Because of him, she was no longer a virgin. That was bad enough. But he had just taken her up against a tree. True, she had not protested, but he should not have allowed any of it to happen, because he knew he would never offer her what she deserved, an honorable arrangement.

He rested the back of his head against the tree and closed his eyes. He could not think right now, anyway, he just needed a moment with this woman in his arms.

After a while, they got back to their feet and restored order to their clothes.

“I’m thirsty,” Gwenllian said, looking embarrassed at her admission.

“So am I.” He laughed, because there was no wondering why that might be. “Come, we’ll go to Audley.”

In the bailey, they were greeted by Peter, who seemed relieved to see them together.