He rolled her to her back, still embedded within her. This time, he thrust deeply, raising her knees.
She gasped at the sensation, but welcomed the heat and the drowning desire. Though he was careful not to be too rough, she found that each thrust drew her away from clear thinking and towards a more primitive part of herself. She met his invasion with her own pressure, drawing him into her arms.
He gritted his teeth, his body tensing as he continued to make love to her. ‘Rosamund, I don’t think I can last much longer.’
‘It’s all right,’ she whispered. ‘I am ready.’
He quickened the pace, and she answered his call by squeezing him. He balanced his weight upon his forearms, and she raised her bottom so he could thrust deeper. She felt herself growing molten beneath him, crying out when the peak rose into a shattering release. Never in her life had she imagined such pleasure, as if her body had been made to love this man. She clung to him while the surging tide seized her, forcing her to arch hard against him and dig her nails into his backside. A cry escaped her lips, and with a few strokes more, he finished inside her.
She lay with his warm body atop hers, feeling alive and eager. Warrick rolled to his side, a sleepy smile on his face. Her body quaked with a soft shiver of the aftershocks. He traced the outline of her body, and she wound her arms around his neck. Though she was still afraid of what would happen when they were caught, at least they had each other.
Warrick continued to caress her skin, kissing her throat. ‘Would that we could stay here for hours.’
She caught her breath when his mouth covered her breast again. A shudder of pleasure rocked through her, and she asked, ‘Where will we go?’
‘North. Ademar’s family lives in Dolwyth, and I believe they will help us.’
‘My father won’t give up,’ she said. ‘He likely has men searching at this very moment.’
‘But he will not find you for a few weeks,’ Warrick countered. ‘I know how we will avoid his guards.’ She didn’t understand, but he helped her don her shift. When she stood up, he pointed towards the north. ‘We will take a ship and sail the rest of the way to Dolwyth. I will sell our horse, and your father’s men will track that by mistake.’
Rosamund wasn’t certain if his plan would work, but it was all they had. She moved towards him, embracing Warrick hard. ‘I do not regret a single moment of this day.’
She could only hope that she never would.
Chapter Five
They sailed along the coast for days while the sunlight rimmed the waves with gold. Warrick rowed until his arms were numb, but he wouldn’t have traded a moment of this time with Rosamund. Sometimes he would rest, and she would open her arms to him. He made love to her on the open water, and the rocking of the boat mimicked their loving.
He couldn’t get enough of her, but he dared not take the time to stop and rest. The days and nights blended together, until he was nearly trembling from lack of sleep. But there was no choice but to continue. Once or twice, he did fall asleep by mistake. He said nothing to her, but he could tell that the waves had taken them off course. They were moving against the tide, and he didn’t know how much time they had lost.
Rosamund’s father would pursue them, and Warrick knew his punishment would be worse than anything she could imagine. Like as not, his own father would exile him, leaving him to survive without a home. Until now, Edward de Laurent had ignored his presence, behaving as if Warrick did not exist. Soon there would be a confrontation—and he knew not what his father would do.
But he would face any hell upon this earth for the nights and days he had spent in Rosamund’s arms. She sat at the bow of the boat and sewed for hours upon end. Sometimes she would look back and smile at him. And it was enough.
When at last they reached the coast of Dolwyth at sunset, she offered him a weary smile. ‘I will be glad to be on land again.’ He rowed their tiny boat into shallow waters before he tied the vessel to the wooden pier and helped her out. She smiled at him and held him close. ‘We need to find somewhere to stay for the night.’
‘I feel as if I could fall asleep right here on the sand.’ After so many days without sleep, dizziness washed over him. But Warrick tucked her arm in his and led her across the strand towards the open meadow. Ademar had told him of his father’s settlement, a motte and bailey structure that lay a few miles from the coast. The grasses were long and brushed against their knees as he guided her in that direction.
But when they neared Dolwyth, he saw the glow of torches lining the walls. His instincts flared, for there were too many soldiers there.
‘Rosamund,’ he murmured, tightening his grip upon her hand. ‘I don’t think we should take shelter there tonight.’
‘But why? I thought—’ Her words were broken off when she came to the same realisation. ‘It isn’t possible for them to have found us so soon.’
‘Unless they knew where we were going.’ He couldn’t hide the grimness in his voice. It was entirely possible that they had forced the truth out of Ademar. The lad was young and unable to fend off harsh questioning.
God help them, he didn’t know what to do. Dolwyth was a small fortress, with hardly more than fifty men and women. And from the looks of it, there were far more people there now. He drew her to sit down in the grass. In the darkness, he could barely see Rosamund’s face, but he sensed the worry in her.
‘Even if they knew where we were going, we went by sea,’ she insisted. ‘It should have been impossible for them to catch up.’
‘There was a time when we were blown off course.’
Because he’d been too weak to remain awake each day and night they had sailed. And now they would have to face her father sooner than he wanted to. But he had spoken vows to Rosamund before God and consummated the marriage. Harold de Beaufort would have no choice but to accept their union.
She knelt before him, and Warrick drew his hand into the dark silk of her hair. ‘Kiss me,’ she pleaded. ‘I’m afraid of what will happen in the morning.’
He could make her no promises, but he would not deny her this night. Warrick reached for the laces of her kirtle, loosening her bodice. She guided his hand to her bare breast and lay back in the grass. He stroked her, memorising the curves before he lowered his mouth to suckle her.
