Instead of allowing her to flee, he crouched over her, his body holding hers in place. She opened her eyes as she felt him begin to join their bodies, but quickly closed them again, unable to hold his intense gaze. The realization that her maidenhead was about to be lost forever had barely set in her passion-dulled mind when Hacon broke through it. She cried out softly at the sharp pain, yet was not truly concerned about it. The delicious sensation of their bodies united at last held all her interest. It was a moment before she realized that Hacon had gone very still.
Cautiously, she looked at him. The lines of his face were taut, his expression one of both pleasure and pain. Slipping her arms about his neck, she tugged his mouth nearer to her own.
“Is there not more to this?” she whispered, answering an urge deep within her and moving her body against his.
“Aye.” He tried vainly to catch his breath. “But I didnae want to begin until I was certain your pain had ebbed.”
“’Twas but a wee pain, quickly gone.” It was not the full truth, but she did not know how to explain that she felt the pain yet did not, that she could ignore it with ease.
“Are ye certain, lass? Ah, Jennet, ye are so small, so slim.”
“Aye, but it seems I can hold one verra large knight.”
He groaned and kissed her even as he started to move. She soon matched his rhythm, each of her senses caught up in that erotic thrust and parry. Her taut hunger intensified until she felt blindly driven. When it finally crested, she cried out his name, swept into a realm of mindless delight. Only faintly was she aware of how his movements grew briefly frantic, of his huskily muttered words of love. Then he clutched her hips, pushing himself as deeply within her as her body would allow. He stilled, calling out her name as he shuddered. She wrapped her limbs around him more thoroughly when he collapsed atop her. Jennet found his weight easy to bear, enjoyed the sense of lethargy that gripped her, the lingering thrills of sated passion.
She murmured a weak protest as he finally eased free of her hold. He rose and left her, but she paid little heed. Tugging part of the plaid over her, she clung to the sumptuous feelings with which their lovemaking had left her.
One glance at him when he returned told her he had been to the small rivelet in which she had bathed. She blushed as he washed between her legs with a dampened cloth, then held it against her for a while. It was soothing, but she found such personal attendance a little embarrassing. She breathed a small inner sigh of relief when he tossed the cloth aside and tugged her into his arms.
“Is the soreness verra great?” he asked, idly moving his hands over her slim curves.
“Nay. Hacon? Why did ye wait? Why did ye not simply steal my maidenhead long ago, as many another mon would have?”
“And what would be the pleasure in that?”
“Enough to suit many another mon.”
“Weel, there is none for me in such a mating.” He nuzzled her neck and watched her closely. “I have a question for you. Why did ye give in? Why, after keeping me at a distance for so many weeks, did ye decide to say aye?”
“Ye make me feel good.”
“’Tis all?”
It was notall, but she had no intention of telling him more, especially when she found her emotions such a puzzle to herself. “I dinnae play for pity when I say my life hasnae been a joyous one. It has been soaked in war, death, grief, and all else that a people mired in fighting can suffer. When I wasnae caught up in some battle, I was trapped in the meanest servitude. The gray world of the convent was a change for the better. There have been few times in my life when I have felt good, when I truly found pleasure in living. When I say ye make me feel good, ’tis no small accolade.”
“Mayhaps not, but . . . to give up your maidenhead? Dugald has oft told me it could be your only dowry.”
“If my father is dead—aye—it could be.” She shrugged. “It may be a sin . . .”
“Nay, there is no sin here.”
“Then ye disagree with all the leaders of the Church,” she countered. “Dinnae worry upon that. I dinnae. For once, I wished to feel pleasure, to experience the joy that can be found in living. For a wee while I wished to forget all the dark, sad things all about me.”
“And lying with me does that?”
“Aye. I could see that quite early in the game. I didnae really fightyoubut rather the temptation of that pleasure, the urge to grasp at it with both hands. Weel, I finally decided Iwouldgrasp it. If that be a sin, I cannae see it as a verra big one.”
“Nay, a wee penance is all.” He frowned down at her. “I understand what ye are saying but, weel, it doesnae seem such a grand reason for lying with a mon.”
“Nay? Mayhaps ye are hardened to seeing death ’round every corner. I am not.” She slowly rubbed her foot up and down his strong calf. “Mayhaps ye have ceased to worry that the next time death may wait there for you. I havenae. Ye make me feel alive, verra alive, and I can ignore the nearness of the Grim Reaper for a wee while. I think ’tis a verra grand reason indeed.” She lightly trailed her fingers over his chest. “What are your reasons? Why did ye want me? There is many another lass about.”
“Aye, but I wanted you from the moment I set eyes on you. There ye sat, quiet, peaceful . . .”
“’Twasnae so verra quiet and peaceful after ye arrived.”
He grimaced. “Nay. I tried to stop the men, but the bloodlust blinded them.”
“Ye tried to stop them?” While she had believed he had taken no part in the rape and murder at the convent, she had never thought he had come there with any intention except to steal. “Is that true?”
