Love's Captive Heart - Page 9

He chuckled at the innocence of her reply. “Olgrethe, when I kiss you, I expect you to kiss me, to accept my affection even if you cannot yet return it with any feeling for me. Until today I have had no desire to take a bride, but I want you most desperately now.”

He surprised her at every turn. “Although we have known each other for no more than a few

hours, I do have tender feelings for you,” she whispered. As he leaned down to kiss her lips lightly she lifted her hands to his shoulders, caressing his warm skin slowly before she wound her fingers in his bright curls to pull his mouth to hers. She opened her lips slightly, kissing him as he had kissed her that afternoon, her tongue teasing his playfully until at last he drew away.

“That is much better. Forgive me for teasing you when I promised to be a patient teacher.” He could not recall ever being with so shy a young woman and reminded himself to be more considerate lest he frighten her needlessly. “Now, please kiss me again.” He found her mouth warm and sweet beneath his own, her lips trembling only slightly this time, and he moved closer still, lengthening his kiss until he felt her acceptance along the entire length of her youthful body, for as she relaxed, the contours of her slender figure fit perfectly against his lean physique, as if she had been born to be his wife. The pleasure flooding his powerful body was one he had not forgotten but had despaired of ever sharing again with a woman as beautiful as the elegant creature who was now his bride.

“You see, is this not a far better way to kiss?” But he gave her no time to reply before his lips again caressed hers softly, for he truly did want to teach her well, to create within her breast the desire that already pounded with such insistence within his own. He made his voice a reassuring whisper as he began to pay her pretty compliments, wanting her to feel the delight her loveliness gave him as he covered her delectable body with soft kisses. Her skin was smooth, creamy to the touch and as fragrant as the gardens of wildflowers surrounding his home each spring. She had the gentle perfection of a clear spring day, all its beauty and sweetness, and he was lost in his own romantic dreams as he savored the swells and curves of her splendid figure.

Celiese smiled contentedly as Mylan trailed kisses along her throat. She traced the ripple of muscles across his broad shoulders with a slow, sensuous touch, for the skin of his back had been unmarked by the bear’s claws and it felt smooth and alive beneath her fingertips. She held him in a tender embrace as he slid kisses across her breast, lost in his tender affection. She had never dreamed a man could be so gentle. The longings he aroused within her were exquisite, and as unexpected as his handsomeness had been, a surprise too marvelous to contain. With his slow caresses, her feelings continued to grow and her desire to deepened.

His knowing touch grew more intimate, and his bed had the softness of a cloud at her back. She floated in his embrace, adrift on the tide of his passion, and she drew him close to her heart, hoping to return the pleasure his warm, sleek body gave to hers. His honey-flavored kiss led her further into the madness, teasing her senses as deftly as his slow, sensuous touch drew forth the deepest of pleasures until she shuddered with joy, her surrender to him now complete.

Mylan shifted his weight gradually, tenderly cradling the delicate beauty in his arms as he moved to possess her fully, to make her truly his wife. He called her name softly, and his desire drew her back into his dream of love. She lifted her arms to encircle his neck as he began to move within her, his strength tempered with such easy grace that she wanted all he could give of this new and even greater pleasure.

Her whole body burned with the heat he infused, the flames of his passion searing her to him in an eternal bond she would never seek to dissolve. She moved with a graceful rhythm to accept his loving, drawing him ever deeper into the magic he had created so thoughtfully for her, until at last he buried his face in her flaxen curls, and she clung to him still, her heart too full of love to let him go.

When the bright haze of passion had at last cleared his mind he covered her face with kisses as gentle as the summer breeze and drew her close to his heart. He had thought he had wed a young woman who was little more than a pretty child, but he had found her to possess an astonishing depth and spirit.

“You fascinate me,” he whispered.

She drew her fingertips through his thick curls and along his cheek as she tried to imagine how she could possibly tell him the truth about anything. “You are fascinating as well.”

“I had not dreamed our marriage would be this good.” He sealed his vow with a slow, deep kiss that left them both dizzy, entwined in each other’s arms, too content ever to part.

She snuggled against him, for she had found a paradise in his arms she had not imagined existed on earth and knew he had shared the very same exquisite joy. She traced his scarred chest with a seductive caress before sliding her hand down his flat stomach and encircling his waist to draw him near. When she lifted her lips to his he responded eagerly to her enticing affection, enveloping her once again in a passion-filled dream that left her glowing with the pleasure of his love. She was the most talented of pupils, the most loving of wives, and had learned swiftly how to please him as greatly as he pleased her.

She felt truly loved lying in his affectionate embrace and prayed their marriage would last forever. Perhaps it mattered not at all what had brought them together when they were such a perfect match.

Chapter 4

Celiese awoke slowly from her beautiful dreams of love. She stretched languidly, pressing closer to Mylan’s to savor his comforting warmth. He lay sleeping so soundly she did not want to wake him, but propped her chin on her elbow to study the planes of his attractive features in the dim glow that remained of the once bright fire upon the hearth. The scar on his cheek was faint, a wound suffered at an earlier time than the bear’s attack, and she grew curious as to what had caused the mark he would always carry. Perhaps it had been no more than a boyhood game that had ended too roughly, the result of a brawl with his brothers or some boisterous friends. She would not ask though, she would wait until he wished to tell her, as it was so slight a flaw she would not make him think it disturbed her.

Her glance swept his face with a loving caress. He had become so dear to her in the brief time they had shared, and he would be the husband she had not dared hope ever to have. She could not stop smiling as she watched him sleep. His dark lashes were as thick as her own, and she leaned down to kiss his eyelids sweetly. Her light touch did not wake him, although a slow smile came to his lips. He had a marvelous smile, so charming an expression she was tempted to wake him just to see it again, but it would be foolish, since he would surely smile at her whenever he chanced to wake. She laced her fingers in his as she moved closer to snuggle against the curve of his lean body, and yawning dreamily, she drifted over the edge of sleep filled with loving thoughts of him.

*

It was not yet dawn when a piercing cry of alarm brought Mylan swiftly from his slumber. He looked down at Celiese for one brief moment, then sprang from his bed and reached for the clothing he had discarded so carelessly upon the floor. “Stay here, Olgrethe, bolt the door and do not open it to anyone until I return.”

Celiese sat up, clutching a soft fur robe to her breast as she watched her husband dress with considerable haste before he withdrew a sharp, double-edged sword from the wooden chest beside the hearth. “Mylan, what is it? I heard someone callâ??a screamâ??what could be wrong? What terrible thing could have happened?”

“Perhaps nothing.” He turned to smile reassuringly as he reached the door. “It may be no more than a guest rousing from a drunken stupor, but I will make certain all is well.”

As he slipped through the door she saw only the ease with which he carried his weapon, as if it were an extension of his arm, and she brought her hand to her lips to stifle her own cry of alarm. Dear God, why had she not understood what he was? Did his mother truly believe her sons traveled the world as honest traders and merchants rather than as the bloodthirsty pirates Vikings always were?

She sprang from the ample bed and dressed quickly, cursing her own folly as the sounds from the great hall below continued to increase in volume. Despite Mylan’s command, she opened the door, hoping to discover what terrifying thing had transpired.

The sounds of battle surrounded her with a sudden horror. The clang of steel as swords clashed with brutal blows echoed up the stairway with a deafening roar, followed by both male and female screams. Smoke from fires set below stung her eyes, and she quickly returned to the safety of her husband’s room.

She slammed the door shut, and threw the bolt. Blood-drenched scenes of battle and death raged through her mind with the indelible memory of her own dear people and how quickly they had died under Raktor’s sword. Who could have attacked on this of all nights? Surely Aldred’s forces combined with Raktor’s could defeat any intruders, but the noise of the fighting continued until the rising sun spread crimson flames across the morning sky.

When the door flew open with a mighty crash Celiese sprang back, certain of what a beautiful young woman’s fate would surely be at the hands of any enemy warrior. “Raktor!” Her voice filled with hope. “Have you beaten off the intruders’ assault?”

The husky man threw back his head and howled with laughter. “It is my own attack, Celiese. Did you not understand why I brought you here rather than Olgrethe?”

“It was a trap?” Horrified by his revelation, Celiese ran toward the door in an attempt to slip past the despicable brute. “Where’s Mylan? Where is my husband?”

“Husband?” Raktor’s expression filled with glee. “We may do this again and again, Celiese, as my enemies are many. I may marry you off a hundred times, since it allows me such easy access to my foe’s home.”

Tags: Phoebe Conn Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024