Jacq's Warlord (27 page)

And his behavior did not go unnoticed.

The laughter and interest of the rest of their table, as well as those beyond the dais, did nothing to inhibit Rufus’ deliberate seduction.

Jacq was helpless to resist. She still resented the fact Rufus was leaving her behind in the morning, but she tried to see it from his point of view. Now that she had met a few of the people and knew Gwen would not be accompanying the men, she was somewhat resigned to a different sort of adventure. And if tonight was to be their last together, she didn’t want either of them parting with memories of a fight.

Rufus placed a hand on her arm and leaned close to her ear. “I do believe we shall not be missed if we leave now.”

A thrill of excitement shivered down her spine. Jacq glanced around at the hall full of people, all staring at her and Rufus, and she laughed. “Rufus, we will be taking their main source of entertainment.”

“They will have to find their own pleasures this eve.” He growled sexily and nipped her earlobe.

Jacq practically leapt to her feet, anxious to make the climb up the stairs to bed. As she bid the others at the table a good night, she was intensely aware of the man behind her whose hand caressed her buttocks, undetected by their audience. If they wondered at her heightened color…perhaps they would blame it on the wine.

Rufus’ nostrils flared. He felt like a stag in rut scenting his female. Her arousal, so apparent to his finely tuned senses, was a stimulant to his already raging lust. Thank goodness his tunic was long and hid the evidence or Donald would never cease his teasing.

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Rufus had sat patiently throughout the meal, catching up on the news of what had gone on at the keep during his absence, while his body hummed with awareness of the woman seated next to him. The wench did nothing to aid his concentration. Every flick of her pink tongue had seared him. He knew they had made a spectacle of themselves, but he was beyond caring. He had to have her now.

With his hand at her elbow, he rushed her up the steps to his bedchamber. Once the door was closed behind them, Rufus was ready to pounce.

Jacq stood in the middle of the room and unlaced her dress and let it pool at her feet, followed quickly by the rest of her undergarments. Naked, with only candle glow to grace her skin, she offered herself to him. Her hands slid up her sides, inviting his caress, inciting his passion. She was made for him. Statuesque, rounded in places that made his mouth water and more beautiful than any woman he’d ever known.

“Would that we had more than one night to slake this thirst,” he said regretfully.

Her eyes softened. “Do you really think that would be enough?”

His jaw tightened and he shook his head.

“Then let’s make the most of the time we have together.” She gathered a large fur from the bed and shook it out, arranging it in front of the blazing coals of the brazier.

Then she walked back to the bed, swaying her hips, to gather pillows in her arms.

Rufus fumbled with his fastenings to divest himself of clothing. As he tossed his tunic to the floor, followed quickly by the rest of his garments, the brazen wench made a great show of arranging the pillows just so, while her bare bottom wagged at him. He kicked away his braies and stalked his prey.

Instead of running in fear, she glanced over her shoulder and gave him a saucy grin. “Almost done here. I want these pillows arranged just right.”

The sight of her, pale skin bathed golden by the firelight against the deep brown of the bear fur had him growling deep inside his throat. Her own pelt, a darker shade of brown, peeked from between her parted legs. Her cunt lips glistened, revealing her arousal.

He knelt behind her and glided his hands over her fleshy bottom. “Are your knees comfortable?” he drawled.

“Oh yes,” she whispered. “But I have an ache.”

He leaned over her to kiss the center of her spine. “Where do you ache? Will it ease if I rub it?”

She reached behind her and glided her fingers past her tight, puckered hole and lower, sliding her fingers into the moisture gathering between her cunt lips. “It’s here, Rufus—and rubbing might make it worse,” she said, in the same soft voice.

This was a game he enjoyed playing. “Let me have a look.” He drew back and followed the path her fingers had taken, sliding along the crease between her buttocks, pausing to circle the tiny hole and then gliding down and between the furled inner lips.

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Sweet Jesus, she was wet!
He gently traced the edges of the thin, pink folds, noting the delicate shivers already gripping her back and bottom. “I see the problem,” he murmured.

She spread her knees wider. “Are you sure you’ve had a good look?”

Rufus grinned. He liked her boldness. So different from other women he’d known with far more experience. Hers wasn’t born of familiarity with men, but a fierce independence that wouldn’t let her hide behind modesty. “I’ll have another look.” He bent close to her, close enough to blow air over her moist heat.

Her gasp was his reward. “What’s the matter with me, Rufus?” she asked, an edge of nervous laughter in her voice now.

His grin stretched his lips wide as he slid his hands up the back of thighs and then spread her with his fingers. More creamy liquid trickled from inside her. “Your flesh is overheated. I’ll bathe you to bring down your fever.”

“Lord,” she groaned, “you just couldn’t check the plumbing?”

“Plumbing? I do not understand the use of this word.” But he did not wait for her to explain. Instead, he bent and sucked her lips between his teeth, ignoring her sharp hiss. The flavor of her desire, salty-sweet and flavored with musk, had his body tightening hard as a post. He slipped his tongue between her folds and laved her slick flesh, drinking more of her essence, committing the scent and taste of her arousal to memory.

Her cunt clasped reflexively against his tongue, luring him deeper until he fit his mouth to her quim and dove as deep as he could reach, laving her inner walls while he thumbed the hardening knot beneath her cleft.

Her moans were sweet, but unhurried, so he licked higher and traced the tight hole between her buttocks while he fitted three thick fingers into her cunt and fucked slowly in and out.

The moans cut off sharply, and he knew she bit her lip to hold back her cries. So he pressed fingers to either side of her small, pink opening to widen it and pressed the tip of his tongue inside.

“Rufus!” Her cry sounded strangled and her bottom grew rigid.

He didn’t relent. Instead, he fucked her faster with his tongue and thrust a fourth finger into her rippling cunt, twisting his hand to screw inside her.

“Please stop! I want
you
inside me, now!”

No more than he did. But he’d not let her draw back from him now. Every wanton thing he’d ever dreamed of would be fulfilled with her. He’d force her to the summit despite her
unfamiliarity
with a few of these acts—she’d never find another man so determined to find her pleasure.

If only he had one more hand! He grinned at the thought, losing some rigidity in his tongue. But he needn’t have worried. Jacq’s bottom pressed toward him, urging his 150

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fingers deeper and clasping hard around his hand. Fresh arousal coated him, easing his entry.

In the next instant, he knew she came, because she bellowed long and loud.

He withdrew his fingers and kissed each mound of her buttocks, and then helped her roll onto her back.

Despite the glazed look in her eyes, she opened her legs eagerly to welcome him.

He came into her in one long groaning glide.

She arched her back from the floor to rub her breasts against his chest and grind her pubis against him. “What the hell are you waiting for?” She grasped his buttocks to direct his movement.

“What is this?” he asked, teasing, resisting her downward pull. “Most women want to be aroused again first.”

“Dammit, the whole evening was foreplay,” she bit out, clamping her legs tight around his waist. “I came, but I feel so goddamn hot…so aroused…I think I’ll explode.

Get on with it
.”

Never a man to deny a lady in need, he did just that.

This time, his own arousal was foremost in his mind—riding his balls and cock so hard he couldn’t take his time, couldn’t be gentle.

He fucked her—so hard he scooted her across the rug with each thrust, his gasps raw and guttural. He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t stop the motion of his buttocks as they bunched and flexed, hammering his cock into her cunt until her legs unclasped and fell to the side. Her toes curved as her limbs straightened and tightened, opening her core wide for his assault.

Her face grew red and strained, and her lips curled back from her teeth in a fierce snarl. “Fuck me, Rufus. Fuck me!”

Beyond talking, he squeezed his eyes shut and slammed harder and faster against her cunt, following her as he shoved her body forward, not stopping when his knees met cold, hard stone.

Then his balls erupted, cum spurting from his cock in endless bursts of liquid heat.

Jacq’s quim milked him, squeezing rhythmically around him as her release unfolded. Her cries were thin and high as she pressed her cheek to his.

When the storm subsided, they both opened their eyes and stared.

His chest still heaving, he said, “I think I’ve found a cure.”

* * * * *

Breathing hard, exhausted from his exertions, Rufus collapsed on his back, unwilling to sleep and give up a moment with Jacq. But soon the hard floor made its presence known through the fur. They’d cavorted like sleek seals, finding mutual 151

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release twice more. But finally, the selkie beside him had sucked the very life from his limbs. “I think you’ve killed me.”

Jacq snorted. “You’re just bragging. I’m the one who can’t move an inch.”

Rufus groaned and rose, scooping up Jacq in his arms to carry her to the soft comfort of the bed, where they snuggled deep into the blankets, their legs intertwined.

“Are you sleepy?” Jacq whispered into his neck.

“No,” he said wryly.

“I need to tell you something.”

The smallness of her voice snagged his full attention.

“I want you to know about me,” she said, weaving her fingers through the black hair on his chest.

He grew still. Would she tell him the truth now? “I am listening,” he said, dreading her next words.

“Please keep an open mind, for what I’m about to tell you may sound

unbelievable.”

Rufus’ lips twisted in a smile. “Everything about you, thus far, is unbelievable.”

What could be more unusual than the warrior woman in his arms?

“I’m serious.” She pushed up on one elbow to lean over him.

“As am I.” He traced her bottom lip with his finger, trying to still the pounding of his heart.

“I’m from a place far across the ocean.”

“Africa?” he asked, keeping sharp interest from his voice.

“No. I’m from a place far to the west of England and Ireland, across the ocean on a continent you haven’t heard of.” Tension drew her brows together. “One that won’t be discovered by Europeans for another three hundred years.”

Rufus smiled at her joke. “Silly wench, how can you be from a place which has yet to be discovered?”

She drew in a long breath and stared into his eyes, no trace of humor evident.

“Because I came from the twenty-first century, from a place called Atlanta, Georgia, in the United States of America.”

Rufus frowned, trying to absorb all of what she said. Was his brain so tired he couldn’t grasp what she was saying? “You are telling me you have come from the future?” He ran his hands over her scalp. “Did you take a blow to the head during battle?”

She shook his hands from her head and sat up, her eyes pleading for his acceptance.

“I know it sounds incredible, but I need you to believe me. I didn’t want to tell anyone, because I was afraid they’d think I was crazy. Don’t you see? I’m not from this time or place. Something happened in that mist which brought us together. Something strange and magical.”

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How could this be? Was his strong and beautiful Jacq losing her mind? How could anyone be from the future when the future had not happened? Yet, his memory of being lost in the mist, and the hours he couldn’t account for when he returned to his camp, were a mystery that gave him pause…and a reason to keep his mind open. The anomaly of her height, the odd way she spoke, her bold independent manner…could all be explained.

He sat up next to her, any semblance of slumber wiped from his mind. “What manner of witchcraft could bring someone from the future into the past?”

Jacq sighed. “I don’t know.”

Rufus sat silent for several long moments, digesting her words and measuring the unwavering honesty of her gaze. “If you are from the future then you would know how this war ends.”

“Yes, I do. But I don’t know your fate.”

He drew a deep breath. “Is Duke Henry victorious?”

“Yes.”

“That is all that matters.” He lay back on the pillow.

“Not to me, it isn’t.” Jacq settled in the crook of his arm, her head resting on his shoulder. “So, do you believe me?”

Rufus’ mind told him to discount her as crazy, but his gut urged him to say, “It sounds too strange to believe, but what about you is natural or normal?” He kissed the tip of her nose. Jacq was unusual and had different ideas about men and women but she was not a liar, nor was she insane. “Yes, Jacq of Georgia, I believe you.”

Her arm reached across him and she hugged him close. “Rufus, I don’t want you to leave.” Her voice trailed off into a choked whisper. A warm tear dripped from the corner of her eye to land on his skin.

Her gesture squeezed at his heart. Would that he could stay forever in her arms. “I have to go.” He kissed the top of her head. “Will you be here when I return?” He held his breath.
Please say yes.
He was surprised at how much her answer meant to him.