Page 38 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

She pushed up against him, lifting her face for another kiss. A bulge protruded from under his apron, pressing up against her belly. He was hard and it made her feel wanton. Raven didn’t care if she wasn’t acting like a lady. She liked it and wanted more. Then she felt his hands slip down her thighs and snake around to cup her buttocks. When he pulled her hard against his evident desire for her, she gasped in excitement. She cupped his face in her hands and hurriedly removed the tie holding back his hair, causing his hair to fall around his shoulders. God’s eyes, this man looked handsome. Dark and dangerous, just the way she liked it.

“Yes,” she whispered in a breathy voice, ready to pull up her gown and wrap her bare legs around his waist. His erection pressed up against her, feeling so big. So hard. So ready. She was ready too. All she could think about at this moment was that she wanted him inside her. If she didn’t find her release soon, she thought she might burst with lust.

To her disappointment, instead of continuing, he pushed away, breaking their intimate connection.

Raven’s heart dropped in her chest. She wanted to shout at him to keep going, but she didn’t say a thing. Instead, she just watched Jonathon turn away and drag a weary hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. Then he stared into the dying flames of the forge. “I-I’m sorry,” he said in a gruff whisper. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Well, mayhap I did,” she answered boldly, not wanting him to walk away from her right now. She had felt as if she were coming to life beneath his touch. No one had ever made her feel this way before.

“It’s wrong.” He turned to face her. “For a moment I forgot exactly who you were, my lady.”

The use of her title at this moment brought her back to her senses.

“Mayhap you’re right,” she said, feeling disappointment fill her, as well as a tinge of shame. “I got carried away as well, forgetting that I’m a noble and you’re a commoner. Being intimate together is not allowed.”

“Please, don’t say anything about this to anyone,” he all but begged her.

“Of course not,” she answered, wanting to yell from the battlements that she kissed Jonathon Armstrong and almost shattered in his arms from just his touch. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

“You’d better leave now before someone discovers you’re here.” He turned and walked back to the forge, pumping the bellows to bring the fire back to life. Why couldn’t she get the thought out of her head of him pumping into her, to bring her to life as well?

Raven felt like that forge, being fanned to a full flame by the touch of the armorer named Jonathon Armstrong. He didn’t look at her again. Instead, he picked up the iron rod with the long tongs and shoved it into the fire. It was as if nothing had just happened between them. Or perhaps he really didn’t care.

“Don’t you need more measurements?” she asked.

“Nay!” he said, almost too quickly. “I mean, aye, but just for the helm. I’ll get it later. That will be the last piece I make so it’s not important right now.”

“I see.” She stood there for a moment, but he still didn’t turn to face her. “How long will it take to complete my armor? I’d like it as soon as possible.”

“I don’t know,” he said, starting to sound now as if he were getting irritated by her questions, or perhaps just from her presence here in the forge. “An entire suit of plate armor usually takes months to make,” he told her.

“Months?” she gasped. “Nay. That’s too long. I need it in a few weeks’ time.”

“That’s impossible. Unless I just make the necessary plates and not everything.”

“It needs to cover my identity.”

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Did you say your identity? What does that mean?”

“Nay, that’s not what I meant. Never mind. Just please make it quickly.”

“These things can’t be rushed. Now, I’ll let you know when I need something from you again. Goodnight.”

Raven had never been dismissed like this in her life. Or at least, not from someone below her status. The man’s arrogance bothered her. This time, he didn’t even use her title. Did he think a little intimacy between them granted him permission to be so casual with her now? If so, he was wrong. Thinking about what just happened between them, Raven felt used and wanton at the same time. It wasn’t a good feeling in the least.

“Next time you need something from me, I might not be so obliged to give it,” she spat.

“Pardon me?” He finally turned and looked at her fully, but any special connection between them was gone. Her anger rose and she felt like hitting something. Or someone.

“You heard me,” she said through gritted teeth. “I suggest from now on you remember just who you are, Mr. Armstrong. You are a commoner and have no right to touch me, speak to me in such a familiar way, or in such a dismissive manner.”

“What did I do?” he asked, honestly looking bewildered.

“Good night. Don’t bother seeing me to the door.” She turned on her heel and ran out of the forge, holding back the tears, not wanting him to know how much he’d truly upset her.

* * *

The door to the bedchamber opened and Avery poked his head out. “Jonathon? What’s all the yelling about?” he asked.