Virgins were not for men such as him; they were only dreamed about by men like him. Virgins were too precious to waste on bastard sons, men who could only get as far in life as they could grab or fight their way to. Virgins were saved for men who deserved them and who were raised to have them as wives.
Now, gazing into her eyes, he hoped that he proved worthy enough to have a woman like Fayth of Taerford. He was going to try to be.
Giles left her for a moment and put out the candles in the chamber, leaving only one lit by the bed. He wanted to see her face as she cried out her pleasure this time. He’d purposely left only his shirt and breeches on and he removed them with an amazing speed now. He pulled the coverings loose, turned them back and then sat on the edge of the bed. He held out his hand to her.
‘Come to me, Fayth.’
Giles knew he was asking for more than her body with his gesture; he wanted all of her and all that was hers to give. Now. The slight movement of her hand signalled a willingness, but her hesitation spoke otherwise.
‘No more half measures between us, Fayth. Come to me and be my wife, support me in my endeavours, for our success and for our people.’
‘It is too soon, I think,’ she whispered, still not taking his hand.
‘It is not soon enough,’ he replied.
‘You would offer the same allegiance you ask of me, Giles? Simply because I bled and proved my words to you?’
‘I would trust you as my wife if you gave me your word,oui,your honour now proven by your blood.’ He stood then. ‘I wish it could have been otherwise between us and truly I wanted to believe your word, Fayth. I tried. You know it was a weakness from my past that I wanted proof before trusting you further.’
She watched him with uncertain eyes, yet he knew within that it was not the act that she feared. She feared the rest, what he asked of her.
‘Trust me, Fayth,’ he said. Lifting his hand out once more, he whispered, ‘Come to me.’
That he asked her and did not force spoke much to her of his honour. Regardless of his being baseborn, his actions did tell of his innate nobility. He had qualities that she’d seen go missing in many called ‘lord’, whether Saxon or Norman. And she stood before him, with betrayal in her heart as he begged forhertrust.
‘Giles, there is much we should say before—’
He pressed a finger to her lips, stopping her from speaking. ‘There is much we could both confess about our pasts, Fayth. I am asking for your future, from this moment on.’ As though he knew of her actions, he whispered, ‘All will be well for we will make it so,’ he promised.
She watched as he stepped away and sat on the bed. His body was pleasing to her and did not frighten her as it had before; even the proof that he was ready to claim her made her ache in places she had never known existed before he arrived. Fayth knew also that she wanted the life he was offering her. It had come about in the wrong way, but nothing could change that short of another invasion. He was here. He was her husband and he asked her, asked her, to join with him and be his wife.
Fayth reached out and took his hand, accepting all he offered in that moment. Even knowing that a day of reckoning would face her, she would trust him to see a way through it. Moving closer, she waited for him to take her.
‘Kiss me, lady,’ he whispered.
Fearing her inexperience would disappoint him, she shook her head. ‘I know not how.’
He spread his legs and drew her closer. ‘Then begin as we have before and learn the way.’
She stepped closer, between his legs, and leaned her face to his. Instead of touching her, he put his hands on the bed on either side of him and waited. She’d never approached a man like this before, so she imitated something he’d done and slid her hands into his hair and brought her lips to his. When he did nothing but accept it, she began to kiss the edges of his mouth, and then she nipped at his top lip and then the bottom one.
His body reacted, his manhood surged against her legs, but he did not move. Fayth used her tongue to trace over his lips and when he opened them to her she dipped inside his mouth as he had hers. Tasting him and sliding her tongue deeper, she found his and touched it. But when she thought he would taste her, he did not.
Moving closer, even leaning against his hardness, she pressed her mouth more fully to his and, when his tongue did meet hers, she suckled on it as he had done to hers. It was pleasurable and she discovered that with each suck or stroke of it an aching throbbed deep inside her. His taste and tongue filled her mouth then and he changed the kiss, taking control of her mouth even as she felt his hands moving over her body.
When she lifted her head to take a breath, she discovered he’d slid the robe from her shoulders. Letting go of his head, she let the robe drop. Before she could begin anew, he untied the laces of hersyrceand opened it. She closed her eyes and waited for the touch of his mouth.
Her legs trembled as he kissed her breasts, licking them and nipping at them and then suckling one tip and then the other. She rested her hands on his head and slid her fingers through the length of his hair. When the sensations became too strong, when her legs gave out from the onslaught of feelings rushing through her blood, he lifted her and placed her on the bed. She thought he would bring the covering over them, but he did not. Instead, he covered her with his body and took control of her.
His mouth moved from hers, onto her neck and shoulders, and every touch made her ache. When he took her breasts again, her body arched towards his, her woman’s core heated and wet and wanting his touch there, too. Instead, he laughed and made his way down her body, sliding up onto his knees and not allowing her to move. When she reached over to touch his hardness, he pushed her hands away.
‘Not this time, Fayth,’ he said as he renewed his attentions to every inch of her.
It was hard to breathe now, hard to hold a thought, hard to do anything but feel, and feel she did. His mouth was on her stomach now and that place between her legs pounded as the ache grew stronger there. If he would only touch her there, ease the ache with his fingers, she could…she would…Tossing her head back, she released the moan that fought its way out.
‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘Please,’ she begged. He ignored her words and continued his path lower. When he spread her legs, she tried to hold them together. The candle’s light might be dim, but he would see…there.
‘Open for me,’ he cajoled, his tongue and mouth now on her thighs.
