“Anything, Gabrielle. Ask, and it is yours.” A fierce longing blazed in his feral eyes.
Her legs trembling, she swallowed forcibly and met his intense gaze. “Before I am forced to submit to a husband against my will…” her voice was a barely audible whisper. “I want to give myself to the man I choose.” Desperate tears filled her imploring eyes. “Please, Bastien… reserve us a room. And grant me this freedom before it is taken away.”
****
He shook with a desire so strong he couldn’t move.
Every fiber of his being yearned for her.
He’d loved her his whole wretched life. Suffered an inexorable, irresistible yearning—to the point of physical pain—longing to make her his. And now, she was offering him the impossible. The chance to bathe her in exquisite pleasure and the sublime joy of his love.
Before she was forced to suffer the brute.
The man who would become her husband and king.
Ugolin le Clou.
Jealous rage flared in his scorching veins. He wanted to kill the bastard. Keep Gabrielle for himself. He, Bastien—Master of Horse and expert jouster, trained by the legendary SirLancelot du Lac—would surely win the tournament. And yet, without a title of nobility, he was ineligible to compete for her hand.
Impotent fury sickened his soul.
A future together was impossible. But…they did have tonight. An evening to cherish forever. A fountain of memories to slake the thirst of an empty, endless existence without her.
Her desperate eyes searched his, breathlessly awaiting the response.
He brushed his lips gently across hers and whispered softly in her ear. “It will be my greatest honor. And most intense pleasure.” Wrapping an arm around her shivering shoulders, he escorted her to their small table, seated her, and poured a goblet of mead. Firelight danced in her dark green gaze. “I’ll be right back.”
****
Gabrielle gulped down her mead, her legs quivering under the table, as she watched Bastien speak to the innkeeper behind the wooden bar. The portly, balding man wiped his hands on his apron, accepted coin from Bastien, and handed him a large metal key.
Primal desire blazing across his rugged face, Bastien returned to the table, grasped Gabrielle’s trembling hand, and led her to the stairwell in the far corner of the inn.
Up to the second floor.
Down a quiet corridor.
And into the private room where she would savor the exquisite, ephemeral taste of fragile, fleeting freedom.
The door closed softly behind her. Inside the small room with wooden walls, Gabrielle lit a beeswax candle on the nightstand table beside the bed, the sweet smell inviting and welcoming. Her heart raced as Bastien locked the door, laid the key on top of the table, and turned to face her, a fierce hunger burning in his dark, feral eyes.
He removed his hooded cape, hung it on the metal hook beside the door, and unstrapped his sword, which he stood against the wall in the corner of the room. His scarred, brutally handsome face aflame, he approached Gabrielle and unfastened her cloak, the touch of his calloused fingers sending shivers down her spine. He strode across the room, hung her cape over his own, and returned to stand in front of her, watching as she removed the wimple and unbraided her long red hair. Dark eyes smoldering, he buried his hands in the thick, loosened locks, bringing strands to his aquiline nose, inhaling the essence as if it were the fragrance of a rare, exotic flower.
“How I love your glorious hair…” he murmured, adoring her tresses with reverent lips as he stepped softly toward her.
Gabrielle’s stomach twitched as her breath hitched.
“I have longed to do this my entire life. I never dreamt this night would be possible… Let me show you how much I yearn for you.” The rich timbre of Bastien’s deep voice reverberated into her very bones, the low rumble strumming her like a mellow harp. Candlelit desire danced in his dark green eyes.
His lips worshipped her hand, a delicious warmth spreading throughout her body as he sucked each of her fingertips and thumb. A deep, hollow ache pulsed between her thighs.
He drew her close, wrapping sinewy arms around the small of her waist, moaning when she ran her fingers through his thick hair to stroke the back of his head. Lowering his bristled face to hers, he caressed her cheek, the masculine stubble intensely arousing, his breath a heated whisper in her ear. Pulling her firmly against him so she could feel his desire, his greedy lips sought her bare shoulder, then her neck, his insistent mouth and earthy, primal scent igniting a liquid fire in her loins. His smooth lips grazed hers, parting them gently with a tender tongue, deepening the kiss as he delved and probed, the hardness of his body making her throb with need.
Bastien eased the neckline of her dress and chemise down over her shoulders, baring her breasts with a guttural groan. He stroked the tender flesh, warm lips following his gentle fingers, licking and sucking until she swooned. Letting the garments puddle on the floor at her feet, he removed her boots and helped her step over the gowns as he led her toward him, his ardent gaze roving over her nude, quivering body. “By the Goddess, you are beautiful,” he whispered, calloused hands exploring her exposed skin, sending chills everywhere he touched. Ravenous, he crushed his lips against hers, his tongue prodding and penetrating, his eager mouth roving over her tender skin as he feasted on her flushed flesh.
He came up for air, his face feral and fierce. Emerald eyes ablaze, he locked her in his intense gaze as he removed his soft tunic and tossed it on the floor. Gabrielle’s knees buckled at the site of his chiseled arms overhead, the sculpted chest covered with dark hair, a trail leading down his taut, muscled abdomen to disappear into the woolen breeches where the hard outline of his body strained against the waistband.
The wet warmth between her thighs overwhelmed Gabrielle with want.
