“Around the corner, sir. ‘Ware, ‘tis dark in that part of the bailey,” the soldier called after Alexander before starting up the stairs to take his turn upon the walls.
“Perfect,” Alexander mumbled as he caught sight of Ailis and hurried after her.
Ailis heard someone following her and started to turn around only to be grabbed by the arms and tugged over to a sheltered niche in the keep’s high walls. “Alexander, leave me be,” she demanded as he gently but firmly pinned her against the walls.
“ ‘Tis very dark here.” He grasped her hands when she put them against his chest and tried to push him away. “ ‘Tis dangerous. Ye can never say what might happen.” He threaded his fingers through hers, then held her hands out to the side and against the wall.
“Aye. I could be accosted by some randy fool.” She tried to keep her tone of voice cool and steady, but it quickly wavered and grew husky when he rubbed his body against hers. She could feel his arousal, and that fed her own. “What game is this? Do ye mean to take by force what I have refused to give ye?” He kissed her throat, and Ailis knew that if he released her hands, her only hesitation would come as she tried to decide whose clothes to rip off first.
“Nay, but I could make ye want it—at least once.”
“That ye could and that could also make me angry with ye.”
“I will take my chances.”
She gasped with a pleasure she could not hide when he nipped at her breasts through her bodice. He kissed her with a hunger she quickly matched. When he released her hands, she wrapped her arms around him to hold him closer. He slipped his hands down her back, cupped her backside, and pressed her more tightly against him.
They were both panting for breath when Alexander finally ended the kiss. Ailis kept her fingers entwined in his thick hair as he slowly knelt before her. He slid his hands beneath her skirts. She gasped when his lightly callused fingers touched the bare skin at the top of her stockings.
“No braies,” Alexander said, his voice soft and thick as he gently stroked her with his fingers. “What have ye done with the braies Jaime convinced ye to wear?”
“I was abed when I thought to take a stroll. I didna bother to put them on.” She wondered where she found the wit and strength to talk with her body trembling so from his slow, intimate caress.
“Have I made ye want it at least once more?”
“Mayhaps,” she whispered, knowing that she would probably run him through with his own sword if he walked away from her now.
“Ah, but we must be sure about such matters. Lift your skirts, Ailis,” he asked in a soft, demanding voice.
The shadows and her own hunger made her bold. Slowly she lifted her skirts until all he had so gently caressed was revealed to him. She gasped with a mixture of shock and rich pleasure when he touched a kiss to the raven curls there. Then he stroked her with his tongue. Ailis started to cry out but quickly stuffed her skirts into her mouth. What protest she had planned to make had already faded. She clutched her skirts tightly, using them to muffle her exclamations of pleasure, even her demand for him to stop as her release drew near. He continued to love her with his mouth, bringing her to her crest and beyond. Weak-kneed and heavy with satisfaction she began to sink toward the ground, but he kept a firm grip on her hips. He continued to kiss and stroke her with an intimacy that swiftly restored her need.
Alexander felt her tense, and he stood up. He released himself from his hose even as he kissed Ailis. She was blind with need for him, and he savored it. He also shared it, stirred beyond bearing by her passion.
“Wrap your legs around my waist, dearling,” he ordered, his voice echoing the trembling in his body.
Ailis did as he told her to and groaned her delight as he joined their bodies. She clung to him, savoring the intense pleasure his every thrust sent through her. Even as he tensed and shuddered, holding her tightly as he spilled his seed inside of her, Ailis lost herself in the blind fulfillment of her own passion. She was only vaguely aware of her cloak being removed and of Alexander drawing them down onto the ground.
As Ailis came slowly out of her daze of repletion, she realized she was curled up in Alexander’s arms on top of her cloak. She shyly and nervously looked around to make sure that no one could see them, relaxing when she saw that it would at least be very difficult. Then she came to a full realization of what had just occurred, and she cursed.
“Ah, are ye preparing to deny the ‘aye’ ye just gave me?” Alexander asked, watching her closely and wishing he could see her shaded features better. Her face was always a clear window to her emotions, and he felt better when he could see her expressions as they talked. It eased some of his doubts.
“I never said aye.” She wondered if that was the full truth, for, after she had said mayhaps, her memory of what she had and had not said was not particularly clear.
“Not with words but with every sweet inch of your wee body ye said it loud and clear.”
“ ‘Twas but a moment’s weakness.” She tried to sit up, but he easily pinned her beneath him, and she did not fight it.
“A moment’s weakness? ‘Twas quick blind hunger. Admit it. Ye miss being in my bed.”
There was an arrogance to his tone that made her ache to strike him. Unfortunately, he spoke only the truth. It was also true that he had sorely missed her being there, but she knew he would never admit it. The frenzied lovemaking he had just indulged in was the only admission he would make. She would have to accept that.
Ailis inwardly sighed. Abstinence would pull no words from him. She had been foolish to believe that it would. It had been her pride that she had soothed by leaving his bed—no more. If Alexander ever wanted to speak of his deepest feelings to her, it would not be because she told him no, and it would not be because she had made him so hungry for her that he lurked around Rathmor and seduced her in the shadowed niches of its high walls.
It had also occurred to her not long after she had left his bed that it might not have been the wisest of moves. She had placed herself at a distance, and that was not the way to win a man’s affections. That was especially true of a man like Alexander, who carried a lot of hurt and bitterness. What she had to ask herself was—was a man like Alexander worth a few lacerations to her heart and pride? The answer was an unequivocal “aye.”
“Did ye miss me in your bed?” she asked him and was not surprised to feel him tense ever so slightly.
“Ye are an exciting lover.”
