If not now, never.
He caressed her breast softly, deliberately, his goal to give her such pleasure that her own conscience went silent. She inhaled with a magical note of wonder at his touch. He continued while her breaths shortened and those notes sounded, again and again, merging into low, quiet cries of joy.
One bird sang as night fell, then quieted. No sounds came from the garden now. He continued caressing her while his other hand worked at the lacing to her gown.
She did not react, if she even noticed. Her own kisses distracted him and slowed his progress. Soon, however, the gown loosened, and he eased it down. More touches through the linen of her chemise, then he lowered that as well.
Some starlight illuminated a bed of ivy near the wall, much like dawn might break the night. He backed up to that green coverlet so he could see her. No kisses now, only careful strokes over the snowy white of her skin while he admired her astonishing beauty.
She looked down at what he was doing. If she denied him, it would be now. He waited but continued pleasuring her with his hand to tilt the scales in his favor.
When she did not stop him, did not object, he laid her down.
Unearthly pleasure. Astonishing sensations. The ivy tickled her cheek but she barely noticed. Zander’s hand raised devilish desire in her, and overwhelming need. She hoped it never stopped but worried she might die if it didn’t.
He lay beside her, his hand moving high and low, down to her belly, then up her legs beneath her skirt. She felt the night air on her legs and breasts. Her mound itched with a strange impatience. So this was what Lady Judith craved. Small wonder.
A thought slid through her euphoria, that Zander had done this with other women. She knew neither jealousy nor suspicion. She was beyond judgements such as that. She only wanted to live in this little world with him, where she smelled that vague sandalwood on his garments and his breath warmed her skin and nothing else, nothing at all, mattered except the profound closeness she felt with his body and soul.
His head dipped. His dark hair feathered against her face. A new pleasure, sharp and insistent, flowed through her. She realized he used his mouth on her breast now. It was the last clear thought she had.
Sensations too amazing to handle piled up then. Licks on her breasts and caresses on her legs. His hand on her mound sent her to the stars. Touches down there, first gentle then less so, brought her close to screaming.
Then he was in her arms, on top of her, his hips settled between her thighs. “I know you are a maid, Elinor. If you do not fight it, it will not hurt much.”
She knew when he started. A fullness pressed, then continued. Her body did rebel, and he paused. She looked above to the stars. He lifted one of her legs over his hip and pressed again. The tear of her maidenhead made her gasp, but after that she only felt that fullness stretching her more and more.
He stopped, his weight resting on his forearms so he did not crush her, his head bent so he could see her face beneath his chest. He dipped his head down and kissed her. The intimacy of this joining, of two bodies made one, overwhelmed her.
“Kiss me again, Zander,” she whispered.
He did while he pulsed inside her. Then he moved, so the joining became a living action. She gripped him tightly. It didn’t hurt much, but it still hurt. Yet his spirit and care and arms surrounded her, and she savored every moment.
When it was done, and he laid atop her, his breaths short and deep, his hair hanging onto her face and his eyes closed, she branded her mind with the beauty of his face in this expression of spent passion, and the sensation of him still in her.
“Don’t leave yet,” he said after he had fixed her gown and his own garments. “Lie with me a while.”
Elinor had not said anything about leaving, but he knew her mind was going in that direction.
“I heard the curfew bell.”
“Do not worry. I will get you out.”
He gathered her in his arms and laid in the ivy with her warming his side.
“Did I hurt you?” He had said he wouldn’t much, but he really had no experience with knowing about that. Knights did not take maids who were not their brides. It wasn’t done, but then again, it was sometimes, as he had just proven. One more example of how knightly honor was little more than fine words. It was his first time for doing it, though, and his reassurance had been a hopeful lie.
“Some. Not too much,” she murmured, turning toward him so their faces rested closely. “I am glad we did this, Zander. I am glad it was you.”
At the moment he did not seek absolution, but he thought it sweet she gave it anyway. He was too contented to have any worries, least of all those about sin and retribution. He’d had many women, but had never been this moved by it. He had known more than pleasure with Elinor, and he did not think he would ever regret following his darker inclinations.
“You left Sir Morris as a squire,” she said. “When were you knighted?”
“While fighting for King Henry.”
“So then, after Henry died, and Richard finally followed his vow to go on Crusade, you went with him as my father did. It was why you had joined that little band going to France to begin with.”
“It took a long time to get there, what with his coronation, then his raising the funds to pay for his army. I thought we would never leave France. Eventually, we did, sailing first to Sicily, then to Cyprus. We took Cyprus before finally going to Acre.”
