Page 2 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood

To Rowena’s dismay, instead of joining her in bed, William sat down on the chair by the wall and stretched his legs in front of him. The movement was languid, the position one of idle curiosity. Only the fire in his eyes betrayed his desire for her.

She gulped as she realized he was about to ask her to sit on his lap, something she could not do. Not only was it demeaning but, more pointedly, she could not walk to him with an unsheathed dagger in hand.

“I don’t…” She was at a loss, not knowing what to say or do. Nothing was going the way she had anticipated.

“Show me how much you want this. Touch yourself.”

“P-pardon me?” Touch herself? What on earth did he mean by that?

“Touch yourself,” he repeated, his voice reduced to a purr. “It will please me to see it. As it will please you, I wager.”

She blinked in confusion. What was she supposed to touch? And why should it please him to see it? She’d thought he would want her to touch him .

“You are unsure of what to do. Sit up,” he instructed. After a brief hesitation, she obeyed. “Now bare your breasts to me.”

Her mouth opened in shock. No one had ever seen her breasts before; how could he demand something so shameless from her? Her every instinct told her to refuse. This was too much.

But she couldn’t stop, not now. Such an opportunity to avenge her mother would never present itself again. When he stared at her with glittering eyes, she found herself reaching to her shoulder and lowering one side of her gown then the other, taking her chemise with it. She stopped, the neckline of her bodice hovering just above her nipples, who had gone rock hard.

She had meant to avert her gaze but she could not, for he seemed spellbound by what she was unveiling. Another tug and she would be exposed to a man for the first time. Rowena gulped and her chest heaved in a mixture of dread and undeniable anticipation.

William’s face had darkened with desire but still he did not move or say a word, nor did he urge her on. He simply tilted his head—and she gave the final tug.

He took a sharp intake of breath then, and she could not sustain the intensity of the moment any longer. The urge to cover herself again was strong, but not so strong that she could not resist it. Instead, she wrapped her arms about her waist and waited for him to tell her what to do next.

“Lie back down,” he whispered.

This time she obeyed without hesitation. Perhaps not having to look at him would help.

“Now lift your dress higher and caress yourself,” he said, his voice huskier than before. “Imagine my hands on you.”

The shocking proposition did little to overcome her embarrassment. Never had she wanted any man to touch her, nor had she imagined anyone’s hands on her without dread. Before her stepfather’s death, she had been too young to think about such things, and since that day, she had feared anything to do with men and lovemaking. Nevertheless, William was waiting.

She tried to imagine what he would do if he were on the bed next to her. His hands would skim the inside of her thighs, of this she was certain. Instinct told her his strokes would be delicate, nothing like the demeaning, proprietary patting the other Norman had inflicted on her.

She closed her eyes, suddenly unsure she didn’t want William to touch her.

“What would you like me to do to you?”

The words made something explode between her thighs. It was inexplicable yet undeniable. Her insides had gone liquid. Cheeks aflame, Rowena placed a hand between her legs and let her fingers dance on her soft flesh. Heat bloomed under the feather-light strokes. It was nothing like when she washed herself with perfunctory gestures and she bit her lip at the shock of realization.

“Yes.” William grunted his approval. “You like this, I see, new as it is to you. Imagine I’m with you, running my tongue over your neck while I caress you.”

When he stopped speaking she opened her eyes and saw that he had moved. There was nothing relaxed about his attitude anymore, he had sat up on the edge of the chair, and his eyes were glinting.

She tried to imagine how she must appear lying on the bed, with her breasts exposed, her legs parted, and her fingers playing with her own folds. The sheer wantonness of the image made her close her eyes again.

“If you stroke yourself a bit harder, it will feel even better.” Judging from the edge in William’s voice she wasn’t the only one affected by what they were doing.

There was a pause—and then, shockingly, her fingers weren’t the only ones touching her anymore. Without her noticing he had come to the foot of the bed. Rowena cried out when he draped his big, warm hands over hers. What was he doing?

“Let me help you,” he said in a low, sensual purr. “Like this.”

There was no time to protest. With breath-taking skill, he took over. First, he moved her fingers out of the way, then he started to circle her flesh. There was no comparison between her clumsy fumbling and his assured caresses.

Within moments Rowena was clutching at the fur covers and the dagger was forgotten. In any case, she reflected in a last moment of clarity, William was not even in the bed, she would never be able to reach him where he was.

So she let herself be swept away by his deft strokes, and when a hot mouth closed on her nipple she let out a moan of astounded pleasure. In response he sucked the nub of flesh deeper into his mouth and rolled it around his tongue with expert precision. At the same time a flick of his fingers made her body shatter with a force that frightened her.

What had he done? Had he broken something inside her?

One breath at a time, her heartbeat settled back to normal, and Rowena understood she was not hurt in the least, simply panting and disorientated. She couldn’t understand what had just happened.

“It’s all right. I’m here.”

William growled, brushing his mouth onto the crook of her neck. His lips moving against her flesh somehow prolonged the spasms created by his caresses. Her eyes fluttered open, and she arched her back, unable to stop herself. It was as if her body demanded something she didn’t understand.

Kneeling at the side of the bed he was smiling like a man who understood what she needed. Her core twitched in reaction, and suddenly she understood. As unlikely as it was, in this moment, she wanted him to make love to her. There seemed to be a void in her, a void he would be able to fill, a void she needed him to fill.

He saw it. His eyes darkened further, and the smile floating on his lips became even more indecent.

A hand closed over her naked breast. Two fingers squeezed her oversensitive nipple and wrenched a moan out of her. A moment later William joined her in the bed. Rowena closed her eyes again, unable to look at him, but not wanting him to stop his caresses.

“You are very beautiful, you know. What’s your name?”

The unexpected question cleared the haze of desire in her mind. He wanted to know her name. Why? What difference would it make to him? He could possess her without knowing who she was. But, in truth, nothing of what was happening made sense. William had given her startling pleasure, he had been gentle with her and forgotten his own desire. Now he was asking her name and paying her compliments.

This was not what she had expected. He was supposed to lunge at her and take her without any consideration, not call her beautiful and stroke her intimate flesh. He was supposed to be a mindless brute, not a gentle lover.

And she was supposed to kill him.

The dagger was still under the covers, easily accessible, and William was now in the bed, next to her. One swift jab and it would be over.

“You do have a name, I assume?” he said, stroking her cheek. She still did not answer. “Never mind, you can tell me later.”

Later. After he’d possessed her, he meant.

The word recalled her to her senses.

Rowena slipped a hand under the furs and recoiled when her hand touched the cold metal blade. She forced herself not to grimace and betray its presence. But if she wanted to kill him, it was now or never.

He was about to take her into his arms.

*

William groaned. He had to take the Saxon now, before he went mad with need.

She was achingly beautiful, so graceful and innocent, utterly unaware of the image she presented, with her body half exposed and her cheeks flushed from the pleasure he’d given her. His body gave an almighty jerk, demanding that he put an end to the exquisite torture.

How? Should he lie between her spread legs or cradle her against his chest? Should he lie her flat on her stomach or raise her hips so he could kneel behind her? Have her straddle him? Yes, perhaps. That way he would be able to see and touch every inch of her glorious body.

Before he could move a knock on the door caused the girl to jump as if she’d been scalded. He let out a frightful curse. Not now!

“What is it?”

“My lord, your presence is required in the hall as a matter of urgency,” a muffled voice answered.

“I sincerely hope you are not lying about the urgency of the matter,” he said through gritted teeth. He was so hard it was painful.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was leave the bed—and the girl in it. The feel of her flesh pulsing under his fingers, combined with the sweet taste of her skin in his mouth had almost been his undoing. He could not remember being brought so close to explosion by witnessing a woman’s pleasure.

To add to the exhilaration of the moment, he was certain she had never experienced anything like this before in her life. She had seemed almost afraid by the intensity of her release, worried that something wrong had happened to her. He needed to reassure her on that score, for he was not finished with her yet, far from it.

She would not get to sleep until he’d slaked the desire she had fanned in him, and that would take a while.

“Hugues de Malemort is drunk and has assaulted some of the servants,” the man called when he stayed silent. “No one can stop him. Please, my lord, you must come.”

“Christ! Damn the fool.”

William could not believe it. The girl was warm and ready for the taking, and he was being called away to see to an idiot who did not know how to behave. She had not covered herself, as if she had no idea what the sight of her exposed body would do to a man, but he knew that walking away from this girl, with her polished ivory breasts, her flushed cheeks, and her innocence would be the death of him.

His body pulsed with need, his manhood was hard and desperate for release. He had fought the need to plunge deep into her delicious flesh earlier, telling himself that the reward would be all the sweeter for the waiting.

And now this.

Would the wretched man always make problems for him? William gave a reluctant smile. Had Hugues not grabbed the Saxon girl earlier she would not be in his bed right now, would she? It seemed he should be grateful for the fool’s behavior after all.

The girl looked up at him with her amazing blue eyes.

“Yes. That is the man who wanted to take you to bed,” he said, answering the question on her lips.

She shuddered as if remembering the way his fingers had dug into her flesh. He shuddered as well. Perhaps it was not such a bad thing he had to see to Malemort after all. He would enjoy teaching him a lesson for the way he had touched her.

“It seems he cannot behave himself, be it with men or women. Let me go and deal with him once and for all.”

Then he would be free to enjoy the treasures the girl had to offer.

With a supple jerk William got off the bed.

“Stay here,” he instructed, his frustrated desire making him sound sharper than he intended. When she nodded nervously, he saw he had frightened her by his intensity. He forced himself to calm. “It might take a while to calm him down, but I will be back as soon as I can.”

He swept his gaze over her, bunching his fists for fear that if he touched her, he would not be able to leave. He would go for now, but he would be back.

And then nothing would stop him from claiming his prize.