“Aye, you should.”
He snorted at her ready agreement. He would say no more about it. She had challenged him. Mayhap she did not deserve such a harsh response from him, but she had certainly accepted him in the end and reached her own pleasure too. Why she had stubbornly refused him to begin with…He knew why, and there was naught he could do to change it.
He leaned up further to move off her, but for a moment their hips were more tightly pressed together. He was still inside her, and Kristen closed her eyes, savoring the feel of him before he withdrew. Watching her, Royce sucked in his breath.
“God’s mercy, wench, do you do it apurpose?”
Her eyes flew open wide. “What?” She truly didn’t know what she had done this time.
“When you look like that…’tis how you look when we—”
“How do you know? Do you watch me?”
“Aye.”
She was intrigued. “I had not thought of that. I will have to try it when next I make love.”
“To stare into those lovely eyes of yours at such a time would drive a man wild,” he predicted.
Deliberately, she smiled. “You need not worry, milord. I was not thinking ’twould be you I would watch.”
“I hope you jest, wench,” he said sternly as he stood, pulling her up with him. “You would not like the consequences if you do not. I will not allow you other lovers. As long as I want you for myself, you will be faithful.”
She cocked a brow, feeling a certain satisfaction in being able to tease him. “Will I?”
He did not answer, but pulled her along with him as he swiped up his clothes, her clothes as well, and headed for the door. Kristen felt her cheeks flush with heat as she realized the door had been open all this time, that anyone could have passed by and seen them. Someone could have stood right in the door and watched them the whole time for all she knew, so involved had she been with this lover of hers.
Her lover. How she liked the sound of that. There would be changes now. There had to be. And he would not regret giving in. She would prove to him that he was indeed her heartmate.
As soon as he reached his room and closed the door, Royce dropped the bundle of clothes to the floor and gathered Kristen into his arms. “Now you pay the forfeit for denying me for so long. You will get no sleep tonight.”
“Is that a challenge, milord?” Kristen purred, hoping more that it was a promise.
Chapter Twenty-one
The sky was only a blaze of pink when Royce was roused by one of his men. There had been a disturbance among the prisoners. It had been brought under control, but Thorolf wanted to speak to him.
Royce sent the man away. If the disturbance was over, he did not need to rush down to the yard. But he could not dally, either. He sighed, glancing down at his bedmate. The dawn gave only a hazy light to the room, but he could see her clearly from where he sat next to her.
Kristen slept on, having been disturbed not at all by the sound of voices. Royce was not surprised. He had kept her awake most of the night—or, rather, she had kept him awake by her very presence. He simply could not leave her alone. He grinned in remembrance, a little amazed that he was not feeling exhausted himself this morn.
She lay curled on her side with her hands tucked between her legs as if she were cold, a habit no doubt acquired from the frigid winters she was used to. Her tawny hair was loose and tangled, spreading about her head like a pool of gold. The thin sheet that had covered them when they did finally sleep came no higher than her hips now, leaving the creamy-white expanse above her waist exposed to his view.
He felt a peculiar excitement in being able to look at her like this without her knowing. She was the first woman to ever share his bed for a whole night, the first he had ever watched sleeping. The serfs that he favored he usually took where he found them. The few he had brought to his bed left as soon as he was done with them. Corliss he left himself, having no desire to spend a whole night in her bed. It was the same with the ladies of the court whom he had known intimately.
Why didn’t he mind sharing his bed with this Viking wench for other than making love to her? Mind? Nay, he liked having her next to him in sleep. But why her? He still despised her for who she was. Or did he? She and her kind had done him the worst wrong possible. She was a woman, but she had still been raised with the same beliefs as the men who had come here to rob and kill his people. She was a Viking, a heathen, an abomination to all God-fearing Christians.
If he did not still despise her, he should. He should also have resisted more successfully his attraction to her. He was disgusted with himself for this weakness she had made him see in himself, and more so now that she had proved her will was stronger than his. She wanted him still. Last eve in this room had proved that. Yet she denied him all week, and would have continued to do so if he had not forced her to submit.
Royce made a disgusted sound with his tongue. Castigating himself now served no purpose. The damage was done, and he was not ready to put it behind him. Giving in once to his desire for her had not been enough. He still wanted her. And to resist her now would be like cutting off the hand after the fingers had been severed, causing more pain for no good reason. Even at this moment he wanted her. The only reason he did not wake her was the knowledge that he would have her later.
It was a heady feeling knowing that this particular woman was in his power. A captured slave had even fewer rights than those Britons born to slavery, or than penal slaves, who were free men enslaved as punishment for certain crimes or because they could not pay the fines and compensations they had incurred. The church gave stiff penalties for the mistreatment of these Christian slaves. Those enslaved for crimes could even be redeemed by their kindred after a year. Those born to slavery could buy their freedom. They were also allowed to sell the products of their toil in their free time. But enemy slaves were a different matter. They could be ransomed or not, sold or not, killed or not. The decision belonged solely to their owners.
This made Kristen his for the taking, and only his, as surely as if she belonged to him as wife. He could have her anytime, anyplace, and she had not the right to deny him. But there was an added pleasure in knowing that she did not despise his desire, that she enjoyed his body as much as he did hers.
If he kept pursuing thoughts like these, he would be waking her after all. As it was, he could not resist touching her before he left the bed, inserting his hand between her breasts that were squeezed together to cup one gently in the palm of his hand. Kristen smiled in her sleep. Royce smiled seeing it.
Damned if she couldn’t make him feel good inside in so many different ways. He wondered if she knew what a rare woman she was in her joy of the senses. He knew no other who could be aroused to such passion—and so easily, too.
