‘Do you trust me, Rosamund?’ he asked.
Her expression was hazy, and she bit her lip as he continued to move against her. ‘Yes.’ Her face flushed with embarrassment and her own desire.
Warrick ignored the warnings that plundered his mind. He needed to brand himself upon Rosamund, so that no man could ever take his place.
She was pliant upon his lap, her skirts falling across them. But despite the barrier of fabric, he felt the heated warmth of her womanhood.
‘Tell me what you would do if I were your wife,’ she breathed. ‘I want to hear it.’
He could hardly speak at all from the lust roaring inside him. But he understood that words would have to take the place of touch. He could not claim Rosamund the way he wanted to.
‘If you were mine, I would lift your skirts right now,’ he murmured. ‘I would touch your bare skin.’
In silent answer, Rosamund lifted the edge of her hem and drew his hand to her calf. The invitation was impossible to resist. His hand trailed down until he slipped his hand beneath the kirtle. Against his fingertips, he felt the soft silk of her leg. Gently, he stroked her, his hand rising higher until he cupped her thigh.
Her face tightened with shock, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she lifted her mouth to his, kissing him again. He traced the outline of her hip and then found the curve of her bottom.
Against her lips, he said, ‘I want you, Rosamund.’ He took her hand and moved it to his heartbeat. ‘Do you feel how badly I need you?’
‘I do.’ Her eyes were hazy with desire, her lips full and red. ‘I have never felt this way towards any man.’ She lifted her hand to his bristled cheek, and her touch seared him. If he didn’t stop now, he would take her at this very moment.
He kissed her palm and gathered the remnants of his control. ‘Will you come with me on a ride? I have somewhere else I want to show you.’
She nodded. ‘Anywhere.’
Warrick climbed down from the tree first and held out his arms. Rosamund slid down from the branch, and he drew towards him, holding her body against his. She fit perfectly with him, and for a moment, he kept her close, resting his arms beneath her hips. Then he let her body slide down, keeping his arms around her. Rosamund framed his face with her hands and drew him in for another kiss. The moment her mouth met his, he was lost. He pressed her back against the tree, claiming her kiss as his own. She gripped him hard, kissing him as though this day were their last. Their tongues met, and he tightened her body against his, nestling his hard erection against her softness.
‘You make me lose myself, Rosamund.’
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright from her own arousal. ‘Good.’ She laughed a little and took his hand. ‘Where are we going?’
‘It’s about a five-mile ride towards the coast. They are finalising my brother’s betrothal contract today, and we have a little time to slip away.’ He led her towards his own horse, which was tethered near the stream. ‘Where is your mare?
‘I didn’t bring a horse,’ she admitted. ‘It would have taken too much time. And it was easier to slip away without one.’
The thought of her walking alone bothered him. ‘Don’t go anywhere without a guard, Rosamund. It’s not safe.’
‘I knew you would defend me if I needed help.’ She touched his cheek, bringing him down for another kiss. ‘And I saw you following me, once I reached the woods.’
It still unnerved him that she had come this far alone. She was so innocent, she didn’t fully understand the danger. ‘Promise me you won’t leave thedonjonwithout a guard again.’
She hesitated. ‘I didn’t want anyone to be punished for helping me.’
He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Take Ademar with you next time. He is only thirteen, but he’s strong enough to defend you, despite his youth.’ The lad was often teased by others because of his stammer, but he more than made up for it with his fighting skills. Were he a knight, Warrick would take him as a squire.
Rosamund nodded in agreement. ‘If it will make you feel better.’
‘It would.’ He lifted her onto the saddle and then mounted behind her. The position drew her bottom against his rigid erection, and he gritted his teeth against the sensation. By the time they reached the coast, he knew his body would be craving hers in a way he couldn’t control.
Better to ride swiftly then.
‘We’ll return in the afternoon,’ he told her. ‘I brought food for us as well.’
He guided the horse out of the woods until they reached the open field. The sun was beginning to rise, and it spread rose-coloured light over the fields. He urged the horse into a canter and then a gallop. Rosamund’s hair blew into his face, and he had to push it away.
She laughed. ‘Don’t spit my hair out!’
‘I can hardly see.’ But he moved it over one shoulder, pressing his mouth to her nape. She stilled, and he kept one arm around her waist while they rode. It was both torturous and wondrous, having her so near. His mind conjured up arousing images of lifting her skirts and sliding into her wetness, letting her ride him. He let out a hiss, and she tensed against him.
