Carington ran her hand over the coverlet and tossed it back, realizing that the sheets were made of fine cotton and woven until very soft. She fingered the material, never having felt anything so fine. Over her shoulder, she noticed that someone had brought her two satchels and bedroll and had stacked them neatly in the corner. The room was truthfully very tiny and there was hardly enough room to turn around in it, but Carington found it extremely comfortable and inviting. She was much more at home here than in the larger ladies’ chamber downstairs. She looked up at her husband as he stood next to her, also inspecting the bed. She smiled when their eyes met.
“I’ve never seen such a beautiful room,” she said. “It looks as if angels sleep here.”
His eyes glittered as he touched her cheek. “One does.”
She blushed modestly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Her nervous eyes darted about the room until her gaze fell upon a small table with a pitcher and two cups. She moved around Creed and went to pour them some wine.
“Libations on yer wedding night, m’lord?” she smiled as she extended him the cup.
He took a step towards her and accepted it, watching her as she collected her own cup. They gazed into each other’s eyes as they both drank deeply. He drained his, took her still half-full cup away from her, and set both cups down on the table. Then he took her hand and led her over to the bed. He sat on the mattress as she continued to stand. With his height and her petite size, they were nearly at eye level.
He gazed into her sweet face, studying the woman who had very quickly come to mean the world to him. “Although I had always hoped to marry at some point, I never imagined it would come about like this,” he said.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Nor did I.”
He laughed softly. “Any regrets, my lady?”
She shook her head and sat down next to him. “Not-a yet.”
“Not-a yet?” He repeated in her heavy burr with a snort, watching the firelight play off her nearly black hair. “Hopefully there will never be any. I will do my best to ensure that there are not.”
His reached out an enormous hand, gently touching her hair. She instinctively leaned into his hand and he cupped her head gently.
“Tell me something, English?”
He loved hearing her delicate voice, the way her Scots accent enunciated each word. “Anything, honey.”
“Are we always to live at Prudhoe?”
His warm expression faded. “Nay.”
“Then where will we go?”
His dusky blue eyes took on a distant look. “Throston Castle, eventually. It is where I was born.”
“Does yer family live there, then?”
“My father does. My mother passed away some years ago.”
She cocked her head, looking at him rather strangely. “Yer father lives there alone? Why do ye not live there with him?”
He took his hand off her head and pulled her into his arms. It was one of the rare times when he did not have any armor on, a harsh barrier between him and her tender flesh. She was soft and warm and he snuggled against her, delighting in the feel of her.
“Because my father has many knights serving him, men whose families have served the Hartlepool Baronetcy for generations,” he told her. “I went to foster at a young age, following Ryton. Ryton did not want to serve my father; he wanted to be independent and not under the constant shadow of my father. I wanted the same, as did Lenox, which is how all three of us ended up at Prudhoe. When I return to Throston, it will be as Baron Hartlepool at the death of my father. The title was supposed to go to Ryton, but as of today, it is mine.”
His expression dampened at the thought. It had not truly occurred to him until he had said it. Carington could see the mood darkening and she hastened to prevent the fall. She knew the man must grieve for his brother but she did not want him tumbling back in the pit of despair when they had only just risen above it. The days to come would see other opportunities for grieving, but not tonight. Tonight belonged to them.
“Well,” she said decisively, toying with the collar of his tunic, “there will be plenty of time before ye assume yer duties as baron. I had no idea I married into such a noble family.”
He knew she was attempting to lighten the mood; he could tell by her manner. He gave her a lop-sided smile. “Not only will I hold an English baronetcy but a Scottish one as well, courtesy of my wife. I would assume your father has no male heirs?”
She shook her head. “Just me.” Then her eyes widened. “Ye will be commander of my da’s men; hundreds of them. Sweet Jesus, they’d just as soon leap over a cliff than take commands from an English knight.”
He smirked. “We shall see about that.”
Her brow furrowed as her head wagged back and forth. “The Clans are not easily won over, English.”
“I won you over, did I not?”
She stopped toying with his tunic and gave him a reluctant smile. “Ye mean ye bullied me into submission. Ye canna do that with every man on the border.”
His embrace suddenly turned into a big bear hug and he buried his face in the side of her neck, growling and snorting. She squealed with delight, laughing as he nibbled her ticklish neck.
“Bullied you, did I?” he growled at her again. “You hardly put up a fight.”
She giggled again, shrieking one last time when he gave a final nibbling assault and fell still. But she was wrapped up in his embrace, clutched tightly against his chest as they gazed at each other. There was a good deal of warmth and joy in their mutual expressions.
“I did not really bully you, did I?” he asked softly.
She reached up and put a finger to his lips, feeling the smooth warmth beneath her touch. “Nay,” she whispered, watching him kiss her finger. “Ye dinna bully me. Ye were a true gentleman always.”
His answer was to smile and dip his head low and lower still until he was hovering over her mouth. After a moment’s pause to drink in his fill of her lovely face, his mouth slanted hungrily over hers.
Carington submitted to the powerful kiss. He had kissed her before and she was quickly learning to crave the warmth and power that his lips infused upon her. She wound her arms around his neck, holding him fast as the strength of his kiss increased. Soon, he was suckling her lower lip, plunging his tongue gently into her mouth as she responded in kind. She mimicked the movement of his tongue, the gentle licking, the tasting. Her hands moved into his inky hair, holding his head fast against her. The lust, passion, was growing.
Creed could feel her delectable body arching against him, her aggressive little hands pulling his head down to her lips. He laid her back on the bed, one hand behind her head while his free hand went to work removing her new surcoat. He did not want to tear it but he was so eager to remove her from it that he ended up ripping a seam. He came away from her lips, apologizing profusely, but she simply laughed and sat up. Lifting her hair, she directed him to unhook the stays to the rear of the dress and untie the sash. He did so quickly and, in an instant, the blue surcoat with the birds on it ended up on the stool near the door.
Carington sat with her back to him in her shift, unmoving. She could feel his enormous body behind her, the heat radiating from it like a roaring blaze. She turned slightly when she felt him move and realized that he was removing his tunic. Her breathing began to quicken at the sight of his naked skin, tanned and smooth and glistening in the light of the candles. She could see his left arm and part of his torso but not much else. As she gazed at him with her peripheral vision, he came up behind her and wrapped his big arms around her body.
His mouth went to her neck, suckling gently. Carington closed her eyes and collapsed against him as his mouth grew more insistent and his hands began to roam. One arm held her firmly around the waist as the other hand moved up her right arm, into her hair and back down onto her shoulder. He massaged her shoulder for a few moments as his mouth began to work across her jaw. He could feel her breathing growing strong and heavy beneath him and it
fed his lust. His hand moved away from her shoulder and came up under her armpit, grasping her right breast from behind.
This time, Carington did not start. She accepted his hand on her breast, feeling the gentle caress and knowing very quickly that she liked it. A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips as his caress grew firmer, kneading her gently, acquainting her with the feel of his hand on intimate parts of her body. His other hand moved from her waist and gently cupped her left breast. With both hands overflowing with her delicious bosom, he pulled her back against him and his lips found hers.
Carington’s head was twisted back as his tongue delved deep into her mouth. He was squeezing her breasts gently, his fingers moving to play with her taut nipples. She heard soft gasps filling the air, hardly aware that they were her own. Suddenly, his hands moved to the bottom of her shift and in one clean motion lifted it over her head, leaving her only in her pantalets and hose. Pushing her back gently on the bed, the last two garments on her body came free and ended up on the floor with the shift.
On her back, Carington could only submit as he continued his tender onslaught. She was concentrating on his miraculous hands, unaware when he removed his breeches and boots and kicked them to the floor. There was such passion between them that she was only aware of the heavy breathing as his naked body descended upon her. When she instinctively parted her legs so that his weight would not crush her, Creed’s desire moved to a higher level.
His hand was on her breast as he kissed her furiously. But he soon moved away from her mouth, blazing a trail with his mouth that ended up at her breasts. He took a peaked nipple in his mouth, suckling strongly as she writhed and bucked beneath him. Her movements were purely instinctive, a natural reaction to his body and actions, and it only served to fuel his fervor. He was trying to go slowly with her; God knows he was trying. But she was responding to him as if she knew what he wanted and it was driving him over the edge.
As one arm held her close, he continued to nurse at her delightful breasts. Carington’s hands were in his hair, harsh little pants coming from her lips. His free hand moved down her flat belly to the fluff of dark curls between her legs. He gently touched her thighs first, very close to the junction where her legs joined, but refrained from touching her most intimate place for the moment. He was attempting to make her comfortable with his touch before forging into virgin territory. But Carington’s body was heaving so much that his fingers ended up wedged between her legs when she shifted.
He stroked her wet folds, listening to her pant. It created a wild surge of hunger in him and he inserted his fingers into her before he realized he was doing it. She gasped loudly, instinctively bringing her knees up to accommodated him, and Creed had all he could handle. Returning his lips to her delicious mouth, he placed his enormous manhood at her threshold and carefully pushed his way into her. He felt her stiffen.
“Creed,” she breathed fearfully.
He kissed her hard, silencing he words. “Relax, honey,” he murmured. “I promise I will be gentle.”
She whimpered as he thrust into her, listening to a softly strangled cry when he withdrew and thrust again, pushing deep inside her. He held her tightly, his arms wrapped around her slender body as his hips did the work. She was so slick that in little time, he was seated to the hilt to the sounds of his own gasping.
Carington hands were on his face as he began to move within her, his careful strokes increasing in power and pace. She was so consumed with the feel and smell of him that she could think of little else. There was very little pain from their joining; merely a sense of fullness. But the miraculous feelings he was bringing about as he stroked into her had her head spinning with delight.
His body was creating a raging fire within her loins. She could feel his manroot moving in and out, a primal rhythm that she soon learned to follow. Her hips began to grind against his, lightning bursting every time their bodies would come together. The bursts of lightning grew stronger and brighter. Shebegan to live for that next contact, that next stroke, that finally brought about the roll of thunder and ecstasy such as she had never known rippling through her body. She cried out with the sheer joy of it. Creed thrust into her a few more times, his strokes so hard that her teeth rattled, before spilling himself deep into her beautiful body.
The roll of thunder eventually faded but did not die completely. Carington lay beneath her husband, feeling his massive body atop her with a satisfaction she had never known. But her body was still so highly aroused that when he stroked her gently one last time, out of the sheer pleasure of being inside her, the thunder clapped again and she experienced the thrill of another climax. Creed felt her tremor bursts and he clutched her buttocks against him, thrusting in and out of her sensually and feeling at least four more releases until they faded away completely. As she lay weeping softly beneath him, he realized that he had grown hard again in an extremely short amount of time and he made love to her once more before experiencing a climax so hard that he bit his lip in the heat of passion. He could taste the blood. Carington released again beneath him; he could feel her tight walls throbbing strongly around his deeply embedded member.
When the panting died down and the only sound filling the room was the soft crackle of the fire, Creed just lay there and stared at her. Carington’s eyes were closed, her lips softly parted as she dozed exhaustedly. He did not want to sleep, fearful of missing one moment of this glory. He was still entrenched in her delectable body, her legs still parted and wrapped around his hips, and he took a few moments to inspect the perfection of her figure.
As he had noticed from the very beginning of their association, she had a body that put all other women to shame. He found himself gently touching her full, perfect breasts, his enormous hand delicately moving to her flat belly before traveling on to touch a thigh that was wrapped around him. When she suddenly wriggled and thrust her hips up against him, he realized that he was still quite aroused and he leaned forward, gently suckling her lips and feeling her sleepily respond. Extremely gently, he grasped her buttocks and began slow and tender thrusts into her. Carington responded by winding her arms around his neck, lifting her body against his and imitating his thrusting hips. The more she thrust, the more aroused he became and soon, she was flat on her back while he plunged firmly into her.
Their lovemaking went on well into the night until the soft dawn of a new day found them sleeping soundly in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER TWELVE
In spite of a night that had kept him active until an hour or two before dawn, Creed was up at sunrise. He was not accustomed to sleeping during the night at all but last night had been an exception. He was the Guardian of Darkness, after all, and the night was his domain. But in his wildest dreams he could not have imagined the joy and adoration he had experienced and, quite possibly, he thought perhaps that he did not sleep at all. He remembered lying awake for what was surely hours as he watched Carington sleep. He still could not believe he had married her. Leaving his beautiful wife sleeping soundly, he dressed silently and quietly quit the chamber.
He found Richard and Massimo in the solar adjacent to the great hall. Richard was seated behind his heavy oak desk while the priest was perched on a stool near the fire, warming his backside as gentle conversation flowed. Upon Creed entering the chamber, the priest bolted to his feet.
“Ah,” he said. “So you did not forget my need to speak with you before I left.”
Creed looked relaxed, rested and extraordinarily content. He shook his head at the priest. “I did not forget,” he scratched his stubble. “But I would hope that you did not expect me here at daybreak given the fact that I was only married last night. Clearly, I have been quite happily occupied.”
Richard cleared his throat at the innuendo, wriggling his eyebrows at Creed when the man turned to give him a lazy smile. Richard, in fact, fought off a smirk at the expression on Creed’s face. He was not surprised to see it.
“Be that as it may,” he tried to divert
the naughty subject matter. “Father Massimo has some concerns before he returns to London. We were just discussing them before you came in.”
Creed seemed unconcerned. “Oh?” he began hunting around for something to eat. “What concerns?”
“He fears that taking a wife might feed the queen’s fury.”
The relaxed expression left Creed’s face. “Then do not tell her,” he said, looking between Richard and the priest. “It is a very simple matter; do not tell anyone. There is no reason you need to spread the news of my marriage all over London. It is, frankly, no one’s business.”
Massimo gaze was intense. “It was not my plan to announce it,” he replied. “But I will not lie if I am asked a direct question.”
Creed was fast losing his humor. He scratched his head irritably. “I am truly at a loss to understand why my marriage is such a concern.”
Massimo pursed his lips as he formulated a reply that would express his reservations adequately. “It would have been better for you to simply keep a low profile while this madness was going on,” he explained. “To marry in the midst of it gives you an almost rakish appearance, taking a wife while you are rumored to have gotten another woman pregnant. ’Twould have been preferable for you to have waited. This way, it almost appears as if you are taunting Isabella. I fear that it will cast a shadow on your innocence purely by perception.”
Creed’s good mood was gone. “I did not get another woman pregnant,” he jabbed a finger at the priest. “And I am not going to put my life on hold because a spoiled whore of a girl could not shoulder my rejection.”
They were very strong words coming from the usually cool Creed. Richard just looked at the priest, letting the man know with his expression that he supported Creed’s assertion. Massimo put up his hands.
“Gentlemen,” he said softly. “I am not attempting to be belligerent. I am simply trying to see all angles of this. Sir Creed, I told you before that I believed you. That has not changed. But I want you to understand all sides of the position you find yourself in. I want you to understand this is a very serious matter that is simply not going to vanish no matter how innocent you are.”