A Knight of Temptation(4)

Slowly he bent his head and began to lathe his tongue over her breasts, one at a time, drawing the peaks into his mouth to suck and tease them. And to Melina’s amazement the pleasure began to bubble away again, the ache returning, just as if she had never satisfied it.

Would it always to be like this? Would she crave him over and over again with an insatiable hunger?

Frustrated she tried to push him away but when he rolled from her, the first thing she did was climb atop him, thighs straddling his breeches. He lay on his back, watching her with narrowed eyes, his face set in a rigid mask as if he didn’t dare to let his emotions rule. That made her all the more frustrated because Melina’s emotions were very much ruling her.

She put her hands over the massive bulge in his breeches and saw the flicker in his eyes. Was his mouth a little tighter? Were his hands clenched with the need to keep control? Melina knew all about losing control, and suddenly she wanted to have him in her power.

Smiling she began to unfasten the laces, tugging roughly at them in her eagerness to conquer him. The garment opened and his rigid cock sprang out, rearing up toward his belly as if it had a life of its own. Melina’s eyes widened, and then she reached to grasp him, exploring his flesh with wonder.

“But how . . . ?” she gasped.

His hands were clutching the bed linen now, his eyes darkened with passion. His voice was breathless. “Have you never seen the animals mating, lady? The stallion and mare?”

Melina shook her head. “I saw a maid and a groom once.” She flushed. “I did not see exactly what they were doing.”

He gave a short laugh. “And you want to know?”

She nodded vigorously. The ache was intense and she went to rise up on her knees, so that she could press his cock against the apex of her thighs and use him as she had a moment ago. But he groaned and caught her about the waist, stopping her so that she was suspended above him, so close and yet unable to move.

“Grendell,” she wailed, writhing. Her body was weeping with her desire, the muscles in her thighs trembling. She felt the head of his cock brush against her and he gave a low groan. “I want you. I-I am in desperate need of you.”

But grimly he held on to her. He even shook his head.

“No, lady. What you ask of me is impossible.”

“You are a servant and I order you!”

She twisted and managed to free herself, falling across his naked chest, her hair in his face. For a moment he was still, as if his control hung in the balance, and then he caught her up and rolled her in the linen, tightly, so she was a prisoner of her own bed.

He stared down at her, breathing heavily. “What you ask is the right of a husband,” he said. “It is for your husband to take your maidenhead, Melina. And as you often remind me, I am not to have that privilege.”

And then he was gone, the door closing behind him, leaving her aching with need and furious with herself and with him.

***

By the time Melinda left her chamber she was again herself. Her blond hair was coiled and braided upon her head beneath the veil she wore, and her gown, with its low waist band and pleated skirt, was the colour of the roses in the walled garden, and suited her fair complexion. On soft slippers she pattered onto the small landing outside her door, and came to a hasty stop.

Grendell had appeared out of the shadows, rising up to his full intimidating size.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “I don’t want you near me ever again.”

“I am your bodyguard, my lady. I am always at your side.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh no, Grendell. As you reminded me, I am to have a husband and it will be he who chooses who we have by us. You will have to find another job.”

He let his gaze slide over her, taunting her with memories of their passionate encounter, but she held herself rigid, pretending it meant nothing. He meant nothing. “Lord Saunders may wish to employ me in the same capacity,” he said evenly.

“He must not!” I could not trust myself!

Too late she saw the glint of amusement in his eye, now that he had the reaction from her that he wanted. She swallowed back more hasty words and shrugged her shoulders instead. “Perhaps he needs a pig herd,” she said. “Or a muck raker.”

His sensual mouth tightened; she had stung his pride, but he said nothing in reply, only turning and following her down the stone stairs that twisted around and around. Uncomfortably, she could feel him at her back, but she was trying not to panic in her need to get away from him. A maid had fallen here once and broken her neck.

“I could be a groom,” she heard him speak at last. “I’m good with horses. And mares. I’m very good with mares. Especially the ones who need a soothing hand. I know just where to stroke them to calm them down.”