CHAPTER 7
His eyes still locked with mine, Guy prowled to the other edge of the pool, and I let out a small yelp as he moved to enter the water on the other bank. "Wait, please!" I squeaked. "This is…too much. I need my clothes!"
"I never said I wouldn't give them to you," he replied, slipped smoothly into the water and moving towards me, "Just. Not. Right. Now.…" He closed his eyes and threw his head back so that his raven dark hair was soaked in the pool, then tipped it forward again, rivulets falling across his forehead and down his broad chest. "Oh, this is lovely on such a day!" he said in a rush. He shook his head briefly, almost doglike, and then stood, waist deep in the water. I couldn't stop staring or tear my eyes away from his body, no matter how I tried. Every move he made was a poem, his long limbs stunning and powerful as the water ran down his shoulders and ribcage. My eyes went to the long yellow bruise on his side and shoulder, and winced. I did that, I thought. He noticed me looking at the bruises and said, slightly amused,
"Yes, Nyssa, I bear the marks of your love on my body."
"As I bear yours," I shot back, rubbing my cheek, which still had a bit of yellow on it as well.
"Ah yes," he said, drawing still closer to me in the pool, "but I remember kissing yours. I don't remember you kissing mine." He raised an eyebrow as he moved nearly in front of me, devastatingly handsome, and reached out to touch my wet cheek. "Shall I remind you what that was like?"
"Was that before or after you called me a harlot?" I said weakly, attempting to draw away.
"Shhh," he answered, stopping my response with his fingers over my lips. Then he caressed my cheek again as he drew me in for a long, slow kiss. "I was a fool. This is what I ought to have done that day."
He began softly at first, almost nibbling at my mouth, then taking my full lower lip and pulling it slowly through his. My pulse quickened as his tongue began slowly exploring my mouth, gently probing and questing. I responded as I had at the house, caressing his lips with my own and opening my mouth to him. He gathered me close to him, his hands pressing my head closer as the kiss deepened. Despite the cool water, I felt flashes of heat all over my body, especially as his hands traveled down to my shoulders and drew me against his chest. I felt my breasts press against him, and a stab of shame and exhilaration shot through me. His lips traveled lazily to my jawline and then my neck, biting the soft flesh there, his nose grazing my skin and raising gooseflesh. I could not help but respond, and my hands shyly caressed his lovely shoulders, when I suddenly felt this hardness against me, and stiffened from shock.
"It' all right, it's all right, love," he said, still kissing my neck, but some kind of panic had arisen and overcome my desire. I pushed against his chest and moved back and away from him until my back was against the bank again. Concern filled his eyes as he looked at me.
"What's wrong? Do I frighten you, love?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, feeling every inch a coward. "You always have."
Guy's face changed then, and his usual intensity relaxed a bit. "I don't want you be frightened of me, Nyssa. I only want to win you." He moved a bit closer to me then, but only to take my hand.
"Do you really mean that?" I said. "Not just to have me, but to win me, to be with me?"
"Of course I mean it, dear one," he said sincerely, all of his posturing gone. He put my hand between both of his. "This is not a dalliance for me. If I was only attracted to you, it would have been easy to dismiss, but it's far deeper than that. You are lovely, but your heart is the most beautiful part of you."
No man had ever spoken to me like this before, so sincerely with such meaning. I felt at once fiercely relieved and deeply disturbed. He continued his tender look, and gently kissed my hand, before he looked at me more seriously. "I do not say this lightly or to many. You have my heart, Nyssa. I love you."
My breath caught in my throat as I closed my eyes. He had said it. He had said what I felt to be true, but feared to be false. And he was not lying. I could see it in every fiber of his being. His love was real.
I looked back at him, my heart feeling like it would burst. "You have had my heart from the first day, Guy."
He smiled then, and drew me close to him. "My darling love," he said kindly, kissing the top of my head. I trembled, both from the cool water and from my admission, which I had not intended to make. His confession was disarming and gave him a luxurious new layer in my mind. As he held me, warmth emanating from his skin, I breathed what felt like the first sigh of relief since he had entered my life. He loved me. I was not merely a loan, or a tax collection.
He noticed I was trembling and held me closer. "Darling, I think I will bring you your clothes now," he said gently. Kissing my cheek briefly, he exited the pool, which again commanded my attention, and then brought the woolen blanket to me. He tenderly wrapped it round my shoulders as I stepped onto the bank, casting his eyes down like a gentleman. This soft side of him, which I had not seen until now, was as intensely attractive as his roughish behavior, and I wondered how two such dichotomies could be found in the same man. But, I reminded myself, he had found them in me as well.
I went behind the waterfall to change into my dress, wishing I had worn something prettier now that Guy was here. But the lace up bodice was beautifully made and the embroidery on the hem of the skirt suited me. I emerged to see Guy also fully clothed again and was a bit dismayed. He looked me over approvingly, and then sat down next to me underneath the waterfall. I took his hand and kissed it, and his eyes lit up with the dangerous fire I was so used to seeing.
"I want to ask you about something," I said.
"Anything," he replied.
"The Sewards. Did you do that for me?"
Guy looked downward half heartedly, then answered. "Yes."
I continued to hold his hand. "Do you know how many families there are that are just like the Sewards, Guy?"
"Many, I imagine," he replied, still avoiding my gaze. "But the Sewards are special to you."
"All families in need are special to me," I said simply. " Can you show mercy to any others?"
He looked up at me now, his eyes a storm. "Are you trying to use me, Nyssa?" I saw a deep hurt, and a dark cloud in his face.
"I would never want you to feel used," I said carefully. "But, Guy, can you not show mercy to more than one family? Does the Sheriff need so very much?"
"His need is insatiable," he replied bitterly. "My guards took the finger of one tradesman on his orders. I would not have allowed it, had I been there."
"Delaram?" I asked quickly. "It was Delaram, wasn't it?"
"I did not know the man's name, but I'm sure you are right," he said solemnly. "Subsequently, my reputation as thoroughly established. No one was late with taxes after that." He held my hand tightly. "But that is not all that I am, Nyssa," he said earnestly, glancing back at me with those remarkable blue eyes. "I wish to be more than the Sheriff's enforcer."
"You are already so much more than that," I said. I reached up to caress his gorgeous face. "You will always be more than that. You are a knight, who understands honor, thought you like others to believe you do not."
Humor invaded his serious expression. "Call it our secret, my lady," he said. I playfully slapped at his hand and, he outright laughed. "You hide your humor well, Sir Guy, and you should not," I said. "As well as your gentleness."
"Oh, my gentleness has limits," he said, his eyes alighting on my face. "It is limited to certain redheaded ladies with sharp wits."
"And …perhaps to more families in need?" I asked gently. He frowned in response. "Will you think on it, at least?"
"Aye," he said mischievously, grinning at me. "But much depends on your gentleness to me. It seems to put me in a better mood." His large hands reached out to caress my face once more, and drew me close to him. I closed my eyes, feeling safe against his warmth, and sighed. I heard him chuckle. "Was that the sound of happiness?" he asked, his chest a charming rumble against my face.
"Yes," I replied. I sat up, looking up at him. "Can I ask what you did with the goods the Sewards gave you instead of tax money? Is there some similar arrangement that could be used for others?"
He looked away from me suddenly and I could tell this was a hard subject for him. I put my hand on his cheek. "Please don't be ashamed of your kindness, Guy. My mother used to say that kindness is never weak."
"Your mother didn't work for the Sheriff, then," he said absently. Then his face hardened. "I hate the man."
"I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to ask, but why? What does he make you do?"
"He's a greedy, cruel bastard. And he takes any opportunity to make those beneath him feel small and unaccomplished." The last was something I knew had been done to him.
"Can you leave? Do you have to hold your oath of fealty to him?"
"Unless I make another oath to a very powerful officer of the law or noble, yes." His eyes traveled back to my face. "And I hate myself for it. I was young when I swore to him, and my family needed that connection. We had nothing else. I still need the connection, because by law all of my lands belong to him and could be taken at any moment. And he needs me, because I am a strong fighter and the men will follow me in battle. They respect me, and my family name, though they might not if they knew more."
This was where his self-loathing came from; now I finally knew the source. I took his beautifully large hand in mine and kissed it. "But you are well placed and can make a difference even where you are," I said.
"Not really," he answered. "I have to do as he says."
I shrugged. "Yet you went against his laws with the Sewards. Even if he doesn't know, you still defied him. And you haven't told me what you did with the goods."
"Some of them, I took to the next town over to sell," he said, "and the others, I give to the Church." Again, he winced as if revealing a wound. "Do not laugh, Nyssa."
My heart overflowed with warmth for him. "Why should I laugh?" I said, holding his hand more tightly. "You showed mercy, Guy. I could see that mercy in your eyes, beneath the hardness. If anything, I -" I cut myself off, and leaned up his long frame, reaching to draw his face down to mine. I pulled him into my embrace and began kissing him passionately, unable to help myself.
His shock at my reaction was charming, but soon turned to passionate ardor as I kept kissing him. His tongue boldly claimed my mouth, and almost bit at my lips, while his large, warm hands held both sides of my face, his fingers gradually trailing down my neck. I couldn't stop wanting him, wanting his closeness, and he felt it. My hands tangled in his dark hair to pull him closer, and then I felt his hand move to the curve of my back, repositioning me without breaking the kiss. He pulled me to the length of him, and then lay me down on the soft earth beneath the waterfall. His mouth had travelled from my lips to my neck, gently licking and biting the soft flesh, making my breath quicken and a moan escape my lips. He shifted his weight so that he now lay partly on top of me, unable to move away for the barest second. When I felt his weight on me, another wanton moan escaped my lips, and I felt my legs part a bit. My body knew this dance, even if I had forgotten it.
"Oh yes, my lady. That's the sound I've wanted to hear," he said huskily. His kisses had traveled from my gasping mouth, down my neck, to the lacings of my bodice, which I now wanted open. My nipples were hard underneath my dress and I wanted to free them, for him to suckle them, touch them, and make me cry out. Groaning, I puled at the laces of my dress, trying to kiss him at the same time, but I felt him push my hands away, pinning them to my sides. Intently, he stopped all activity, and gently moved himself between my legs. Though we were both still fully clothed, I could feel his throbbing heat and hardness, and gasped in pleasure. He gave me another one of his wicked smiles, cocking his head to one side as he said,
"Do you feel this, my lady? Do you feel my want for you, my love for you?" He moved against me, pulling my leg against his hip, lowering the hard pressure against my aching want, and I moaned in pleasure. "Yes," I whispered. "Please..."
"Please what?" he said, teasingly, pressing himself against me just a touch more, and lazily tracing the outline of my breast. I was unable to form words and continued breathing heavily until his breath tickled the shell of my ear "Please, what?" he said again, his hand stopping at the laces of my bodice.
"Please…stop talking," I whispered, trying to reach his mouth with mine. He kissed me hard then, his hands stroking my breasts, feeling the sharp rise of my nipples, making me gasp with pleasure. I pulled at his shirt then, wanting to feel his warm skin against my own, his hard shoulders under my hands. He pulled back ever so slightly, tsking at me, "Ah, ah, in time," before his hands delicately unwound the laces of my bodice. Those deep eyes bore into me, and he pulled my bodice down just enough, running his tongue along the tops of my breasts. "Lovely," he said, gazing down at me.
I felt myself wriggle against him seeking some release, bug he would give me none. "Is this what you want?" he asked softly, licking the tops of my breasts. "Hmm? Tell me, is this what you want?"
I wanted everything. I wanted his voice, his eyes, his lips, his manhood, all of it. But I couldn't speak. Instead I pulled his head closer to my breasts, and he took a bit of pity on me by opening my bodice all of the way this time. His warm hand invaded the space, kneading my left breast, teasing the nipple, while his lips suckled my right, and I nearly screamed with pleasure. My hands pulled him closer, wrapping in the fabric of his shirt, trying to drag it off of him, but he moved my arm away in a practiced move, held it down, and continued his assault on my upper body. I was close to hyperventilating at this point, and was moaning his name as he kissed, suckled and kneaded my aching breasts. Just when I thought I could take no more, he jutted his hips against mine, and I cried out, a torrent of pleasure ripping through my body. I spasmed against him, and felt him groan, his own needs unreleased. With my free hand, I pulled his weight against mine, trying to make him move against me, but he abruptly stopped, and gripped my other hand in a vise.
"I'm not done with you yet, lady," he half growled at me. I felt his hands moving my dress up, and slight wave of fear arose in my throat. Forgetting myself, I sat up and suddenly said, "Guy, I will carry your child-"
His eyes danced at me, looking amused, and I realized that he had another plan all along. "Nyssa, I have no intention of impregnating you unless we are wed. I can still give you pleasure, though." Those blue orbs became sinful again as he slid himself lower on my body, gently encouraging my legs to part.
I was nervous. I had never done this before. What did he want? I thought I knew, but couldn't imagine a man wanting to do that to a woman. My thoughts were broken as he commanded, "Part your legs, my love," and slid his hand up my thigh to my womanhood. Still tense, I heard him say "Open yourself to me, Nyssa. Don't forget that I love you."
Relaxing a little bit, I felt his finger gently moving against my pleasure center, drawing swirls, feather light, then pressing more urgently. I gasped again, my hips moving against his hand, and felt him slide one finger, then two into me gently, questing, probing. I began to move with him, my body following the ancient rhythm of lovemaking, and just as I thought I would arrive again, I felt him move his hands away. I nearly groaned in frustration, but then felt his stubble chafe my thigh and nearly jumped out of my skin. That? He wanted to do that to me? "Oh, God!" I cried out as he began his second assault on my body. His tongue flicked out, entered me, flicked out, entered, and again. I felt this nose press deliberately against my pleasure center each time, and I suddenly knew that this time would be no match for any previous lovers or experiences.
His rhythm became faster, more urgent. Oh, his tongue.
Faster. My body gathered, like violin string ready to snap.
A low cry began in the back of my throat that ended in a high pitched squeal as he finished with me. I cried his name over and over, and that I loved him and that I knew I always had. As it ended, I felt him leave my womanhood, and lay, utterly spent, my heart beating rapidly, until he moved to lie next to me, also breathing rapidly, his lips red, his eyes full of passion.
"Christ's bones, Nyssa. You shatter me."
