The sounds of his heavy breathing filled the air as Devlin struggled to catch his breath while beneath him, Emllyn simply lay there, eyes closed and her head turned away from him. She was breathing heavily, too, lying motionless for the most part. Devlin stared at her in the firelight, thinking he’d never in his life seen anything more beautiful. He wondered what it would be like for her to respond readily to him, for her to touch him as he touched her. The mere thought was enough to harden him again and in little time, he was slowly and sensually thrusting in and out of her again. His face was buried in her neck, smelling her, as his hips moved in the ancient primal rhythm.
“Please,” Emllyn gasped. “Please… I should have…”
Devlin responded by covering her mouth with his, kissing her with something just short of tenderness. It was slow and delicious, his tongue invading her mouth as he listened to her gasp. He was being very careful and deliberate, his thrusts as gentle as they could be. He was unbelievably aroused, letting go of the arms he had trapped over her head and using the free hand to burrow under her shift and fondle her breasts. That seemed to arouse Emllyn, who began lifting her pelvis to him when he thrust. It was an innate reaction, as if she’d always done it this way. Realizing she was responding to him, he moved a big hand in between them, to where their bodies joined, and began to gently stroke her.
Emllyn groaned, overwhelmed with the new sensations he was creating. Devlin was literally panting as he watched her face, seeing the pleasure upon it and knowing she was feeling what he was feeling. It was too good to be true, mating that was only dreamt of or told of in fables of lore. It was pleasure beyond pleasure, passion beyond passion, and it seemed as if their bodies were only made for each other. Devlin had bedded many women in his life, but never like this. He had never even dreamed of anything like this. When he felt Emllyn’s tremors begin again, causing her to gasp frantically, he thrust into her several times before releasing in a burst of glory.
The fire in the hearth snapped softly as heavy breathing filled the room. Devlin was collapsed on top of Emllyn as she lay with her hands over her eyes. He could hardly catch his breath and neither could she, but eventually the breathing died down and the room fell silent but for the crackle of the fire. Devlin still lay atop Emllyn, his body still joined to hers, thinking a great many thoughts. Mostly, he thought he might possibly be going mad. It would seem that she was no longer the captive.
It would seem that now, somehow, he belonged to her instead.
CHAPTER FOUR
“’Tis a boldplan, Devlin,” Shain said, his voice low. “Are you sure they will not recognize you?”
“De Cleveley has never seen me,” Devlin said. “He would not know me on sight.”
Devlin and Shain were standing near the stables of Black Castle’s fortress complex; the keep itself was built on a promontory on the edge of the sea with a rope suspension bridge linking it to the mainland where the majority of the fortress was. It was a bridge that could be easily removed or burned to prevent access to the keep if the need arose.
Like most Irish castles, Black Castle’s keep and walls were built of stone, with a muck-filled moat paralleling the outer wall. The bailey held a giant feasting hall and several outbuildings all built of wattle and daub, including sleeping quarters and a barn, while the keep itself was literally three stories and three rooms– storage on the bottom floor, a big hall on the second floor, and Devlin’s massive chamber on the third floor. All of this surrounded by the vast Irish sea to the east.
Evening had fallen now as Devlin and Shain lingered near the outbuildings, and a wicked eastern wind had whipped up, battering man and structure alike. Devlin eventually pulled Shain out of the wind as they huddled inside the stables to seek shelter from the weather. It was a bitter night, made more bitter now with the conversation at hand. Devlin had just proposed a rather daring scheme to Shain and the man wasn’t particularly thrilled with it. In fact, he was positively adverse.
“But you have fought de Cleveley before, many times,” Shain said, motioning at Devlin’s flaming red hair. “Surely someone has seen you and knows what you look like. You are rather hard to miss, you know.”
Devlin shrugged. “I have always worn armor, including a helm,” he said. “If they have seen me, they have never gotten a good look at me. If I thought for one moment they would recognize me, I would not have suggested my plan.”
Shain’s gaze lingered on him for a long, tense moment before looking away. “I understand why you would send Fitzgerald’s sister into their midst,” he said. “Your bargain with her is a sound one. They could very well divulge their plans to her because she is an ally. But the thought of you accompanying her… why must you do this? I still do not understand.”
Devlin didn’t really understand himself; all he knew was that he couldn’t let her go without him. Maybe he couldn’t let her out of his sight. He wasn’t sure yet, but one thing was for certain– he was about to go into the belly of the beast with the woman. He would not let her go in alone.
“I will pretend to be her slave or her bodyguard,” he said. “I will pretend to be mute so my brogue will not give me away. It would not be wise to let her go into the settlement without some measure of protection.”
“So you would risk yourself?” Shain demanded. “’Tis madness, Dev!”
Devlin shook his head. “It is not,” he replied firmly. “We have plenty of armor from the dead English. I will dress in their armor, shave my head, and generally look the part of theBéarlawarrior. She will tell them that I am her slave and they will believe her.”
Shain looked at him as if he had gone mad. “You do not look like a slave,” he said. “It would be better if you were herprotector, sent by her brother. You look the part of something more noble than a slave.”
“Then I shall be her protector,” he said, becoming irritable with Shain’s resistance. “It only make sense; surely a lone woman would not be traveling alone.”
“I thought you were going to tell them that she was your escaped captive?”
Devlin pondered that lie a moment and a thought occurred to him. He looked at Shain, rather slyly. “Mayhap she will tell them that I was a captive also, tortured by the Black Sword,” he said, thinking aloud. “I am mute because of it. Mayhap that will create more sympathy with them towards both the lady and me.”
Shain was appalled that he was starting to like the man’s plan. He sighed heavily. “Is there no other way, Dev?” he asked, almost pleading. “I have no issue with the lady going into their midst, but you… if you were to be discovered, this rebellion would lose its heart. Is it worth the risk?”
Devlin nodded slowly and deliberately. “I believe it ’tis,” he said. “Shain, it’s my belief that the invasion fleet the other night was just the beginning. I feel that the English are planning something very big and I must find out what it is. Can you not understand that, lad?”
Shain rolled his eyes in defeat and nodded. “Of course I do,” he said. “But why do you have to go with her? Why can’t I go?”
Devlin was already shaking his head before Shain even finished his question. “Because this is something I must do,” he said, although it wasn’t the truth. There was no reason for Shain not to go; Devlin simply didn’t want him to. He wanted to be the one to escort Emllyn. He wanted to be the one to be with her. “I must hear it with my own ears and see the enemy with my own eyes. I have to understand them, lad. I have to know what we are up against and if there are any weaknesses, I must know.”
Shain accepted the explanation but he clearly wasn’t happy. “What do we tell Iver and Freddy?” he asked. “Freddy is going to be hard to control with you away. I worry over it.”
Devlin shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, lock him in the vault until I return,” he said. “I know Freddy is unpredictable but he is not a fool.”
“As in a fool that would try to take over your men?” Shain wanted to know. There was warning in the tone. “He loves you but he loves himself more. He believes he is in the right, always. He has the ear of the men.”
