Never had she imagined she could do this to him, and the knowledge both humbled and empowered her. She could bring him to his knees just as easily as he brought her to hers. He might be the son of a lord, and she might be the daughter of a marshal, but here, like this, they were as one.
Beneath the linen of his shirt she could see his powerful muscles flex and tighten as the rhythm of their joining set a frantic pace. His face darkened, his eyes hooded, his jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck and shoulders flared.
“Christ, you feel good,” he bit out through clenched teeth.
His hands slid from her thighs to grip her bottom, allowing him to sink deeper and deeper. Harder and harder until she knew there was nowhere for him to go. She gasped, as he’d reached the deepest part of her. They were joined completely… irrevocably… perfectly.
His eyes pinned her. “You’re mine, Jo. Mine forever.”
“Yes! Yes!” she cried out, the frantic rhythm of his thrusts taking her to the highest peak. But then he took her higher. With a rough growl, he plunged in full hilt and held her to him and started to circle his hips in a hard grind.
Her body came apart. Sensation exploded inside her.
“Oh God, I’m going to come,” he bit out tightly. His fingers dug into her buttocks as he stiffened and gave a deep guttural cry that sent them both catapulting toward the stars together. The spasms of her release crashed over her, as the hot rush of his seed poured inside of her.
It was incredible. Feeling his body shudder and quake with hers. Knowing that he was sharing the same sensation, the same passion, that they were experiencing this miracle together.
Forever, he’d said. Tears of happiness sprang to her eyes.
When it was over, they collapsed in a boneless heap of exhausted bodies and tangled limbs.
Neither of them seemed to move for a long time. But eventually their rising chests and heavy breathing slowed. It took a few minutes longer for the haze that had turned her brain to mush to start to clear enough to allow for rational thought.
James swore.
The oath was one that she’d never heard him use before, and the crudeness shocked her. Was something wrong?
Her eyes flew to his.
A little of her trepidation slipped away when he smiled boyishly. “Sorry. I was just thinking that Raider and Dragon are going to be furious.”
“Who?”
He shook his head. “It isn’t important.” He slid his hand around to cup her cheek, stroking her bottom lip with his finger. His tender gaze fell on hers. “I have to go. I shouldn’t have stayed this long. The men are waiting for me.”
He didn’t wait for her to reply but slowly untangled himself and stood. There was something about watching him retie his braies and reach for his cotun that made it feel… wrong.
But recalling his promise to build her a palace someday, the prickle of disquiet faded. “I need to speak with you about something important.”
All of the attentiveness and tenderness he’d shown her a few minutes ago was gone. He was in warrior mode, his attention already diverted to whatever it was he had to do. “I’m afraid it will have to wait, Jo. I’m already late.”
“It will only take a few minutes.”
He frowned, perhaps catching something in her voice. “What is it about?”
He held out his hand for her and she stood, her skirt falling back into place, hiding all evidence, as if he hadn’t just spent himself between her thighs a few minutes ago.
She put her hands over her stomach instinctively. “Our future,” she said.
His brows furrowed in question; he had no idea what she was talking about.
“Our marriage,” she clarified. Embarrassed to be raising the subject herself, she tried to jest. “We will need to post the banns sooner than you may have intended.”
The blood slid from his face. “What marriage?”
In the shocked horror of his expression, Joanna saw the truth. The hideous, terrible, brutal truth. “Forever” and “build her a palace” didn’t mean make her his wife.
The knowledge rippled through her in a hot, painful wave. Thom had been right, and she’d been wrong—terribly wrong.
CHAPTER THREE
Coming on the heels of the single most erotic, most pleasurable, most incredible sexual experience of James’s life, Jo’s words were a cold shock. Hell, they were like a plunge into the icy waters of the Hebridean sea in midwinter—bare-arsed naked. His blood, his breath, everything inside him froze.
She looked up at him, her big blue eyes questioning and anxious. “I thought… I assumed… we would marry,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
He looked at the woman he’d known since they were both children—who’d grown up with him, who knew what the English had done to his father and what they’d taken from him, who had to know how important his career was to him—as if she were a stranger. He was going to be the greatest knight in Scotland, raising the name of Douglas to dizzying heights. The horror and humiliation of his father’s death—being left to die like a dog—would never be forgiven, but he intended to make sure it was forgotten. No one would ever malign their honor and nobility again.