Rise of the Defender (123 page)

     He snatched her back to him as quickly as
she had risen, pulling her against him firmly. His face was an inch from her
own, their eyes devouring each other.

     “Are you sure?'' he whispered, not even
daring to hope.

     She kissed his lower lip, only his lower
lip, and caught it between her teeth erotically as she pulled away from him. “I
am,” she whispered. “Truly, I am.”

     Marcus could not believe it. His eyes raked
her from her hair to her toes and he was completely at a loss for words.
Forgoing the words, his mouth latched onto hers and in a great release of
desire and passion, he pulled her back onto the bed with him.

     What started out slow and completely
sensual quickly grew in strength. He literally tore her surcoat from her and
she let him, encouraging him with passionate words that sent his blood boiling.
His own clothes came off faster than he thought possible and Dustin moaned with
pure pleasure when their naked flesh came together for the first time. It was
an explosion of erotic pleasure, comfort beyond imagining as his hands moved
the length and breadth of her body.

     For Dustin, it was purely therapeutic. She
needed to be touched, needed to know that she was loved and that she was not
alone. She tried to close her eyes and pretend it was Christopher, but she
could not. His presence was so different from Marcus' and she knew him better
than she knew herself, and it was nearly impossible to pretend that the man
holding her now was her deceased husband. She was momentarily disappointed, for
she had hoped to imagine for just a moment that 'twas Christopher back with
her, one more time. But her disappointment was momentarily in that Marcus
Burton was a man among men, not inclined to take second to anyone, especially a
dead man.

     He was rough with her, as she had
remembered, but it fired her desire tremendously. His teeth bit at her nipples,
already engorged and tender from nursing, but he was skilled enough to know how
far he could go without actually hurting her. A little pain was pleasurable.

     He sucked her dry on both breasts, giving
Dustin so much pleasure that tears filled her eyes. She tried to make love to
him, to run her hands over his massive chest or move to cup his testicles, but
he would gently push her back down again and continue his attentions. Lord, he
had wanted her so badly and for so long that she was going to lay there and
enjoy everything he did to her, whether or not she wanted to join in. This
experience was so entirely unexpected that it left him giddy.

     She tasted so sweet and he sucked and
tongued her in every possible place, feeling her warmth against his face Dustin
relaxed completely, panting softly with his most intimate touch and giggling
when he suckled her toes. He smiled back, meeting her desire-hazed gaze before
quickly flipping her over on her stomach and descending on her bottom with his
mouth.

     Dustin moaned and writhed underneath him,
even blushing when he parted her buttocks and ran his tongue the length of the
crack, toying with her anus. He bought her up to her knees while her face and
shoulders were still lowered into the pillow and pressed his mouth into her
private center, manipulating her little bud from an entirely new angle.

     Dustin immediately started to thrash with
passion and he could not wait any longer. Turning her over on her back, he
lowered his massive frame onto her and gently kissed her mouth.

     “I want to look at your face when I make
love to you,” he whispered hotly.

     Breathless, she met his eyes and wrapped
her pretty legs around his thighs. “Take me, my lord.”

     He did. He drove into her wetness with a
shout of triumph, rocking the bed with the measured power in his thrusts. She
met his thrusts firmly, clinging to him as he moved within her.
Christopher,
Christopher, Christopher
! her mind sang over and over but she had the
presence of mind not to voice her thoughts. This was Marcus now, her future
husband, and she would not degrade him by thinking him to be another. Yet it
wasn't easy, her mind, her body, was geared to Christopher.

     When it was over and they lay entwined in
each other's arms, Dustin thought she might actually grow to enjoy this
completely one day. True, her body was satisfied by his lovemaking, but it was
her mind he had to win over.

***

     The next day was a difficult one for
Dustin. She was embarrassed that she had responded so physically to Marcus when
her heart and soul still belonged to Christopher. She was confused and angry at
herself, second-guessing her reasoning for taking Marcus to her bed. Was it
right to let him believe the child was his merely to save his honor? Was it
then right to deny Christopher his own flesh and blood?

     She just did not know anymore and was
sickened over it. She knew she was a silly, weak woman and she could not truly
fathom why the strongest men in the realm had loved her. She certainly did not
deserve them.

     She was out walking with Christin in the
bailey, avoiding the curious gazes of the peasants and soldiers alike, ignoring
them because she was afraid to open herself up in any way - a smile, a word.
She wanted to stay to herself to try and sort out her surging emotions, hoping
the sun and air would help her do just that.

     Alexander jogged beside her, yapping and
dancing about. Christin watched the dog intently, yelling and screeching at the
animal as Dustin all but ignored the two of them, entirely lost in thought.
Caesar and George had opted to stay inside and keep each other company,
although Caesar was a bitter old thing these days. And he hated Marcus.

     Dustin remembered when Christopher had
first come to Lioncross, and how Caesar had taken to him immediately. If she
hadn't known better, she would have sworn that the cat was instrumental in
drawing her and Christopher together. His timing had been impeccable and his
moves, planned. But here at Somerhill, he hissed and scratched at Marcus as if
the man were the devil. She wondered if it was because the cat felt that only
Christopher had a right to his mistress.

     A shadow fell across her path and she
stopped, looking up to see Dud smiling at her. He was a kind man with a beaten
face, and she had remembered his loyalty to her husband. She smiled back.

     “My lady looks well this day,” he
commented. “May I be so bold as to ask to accompany you?”

     She did not want company, but she did not
have the heart to refuse him. “Of course.”

     He fell in beside her and they walked in
silence, pacing the dusty ground of the bailey.

     “Your lady daughter is looking more like
her father every day,” he remarked.

     Dustin looked at Christin. “Do you think
so?”

     “Aye,” he agreed. “Verily, she has the
shape of his face, and his mouth. I can see him when she smiles.”

     Dustin studied her daughter's face a
moment. “She will know about her father, Dud. I want Christin to grow up
hearing of him every day so that she feels that she knows him.”

     Dud's smile faded a bit when he remembered
the look Marcus had given him as he had told stories of Christopher. The man
was bitterly possessive about this woman and her child. “She will, my lady,” he
said. “I will tell her myself when she is old enough to understand.”

     “Would you?” Dustin turned to him
earnestly. “I would like that very much. You have known him much longer than I
have.”

     He was not surprised by the sincerity in
her voice; he knew how much she and the baron had loved one another and it
almost made him resent Marcus for interfering.

     “I promise that Lady Christin will know all
there is to know about her father. Well,
almost
everything,” he
chuckled.

     Dustin smirked and shook her head. “I do
not even want to know about
those
things,” she said stiffly, then
glanced at him sideways. “Was my husband....I mean, did he have other women
when you knew him?”

     Dud looked thoughtful, hell, he could think
of a dozen offhand, but nothing more than passing fancies. Christopher loved to
admire beautiful women, women who had thrown themselves at him, but he had
never shown much interest in them beyond a roll in bed. Dud had known
Christopher since they had been young knights, many years ago, and he had seen
and heard of Christopher's escapades with Marcus and David. But did he have a
serious woman? He recalled one, a Lady Amanda, but naught much else to the
story.

     Dustin was waiting for an answer as he
recollected. He saw her expectant face and cleared his throat. “Outside of a
wench here and there, no one that I am aware of. Christopher lived cleaner than
most knights.”

     Relieved, Dustin smiled and nodded,
shifting Christin to the other hip. “Tell me more of his adventures in the Holy
Land.”

     Dud grinned, clasping his hands behind his
back as he thought. “Let me see, now. Did I tell you the story of the inn in
Damascus? Aye, I told you that last night.” His brow furrowed. “How about the
road to Antioch? Or the two nights we spent in Joppa when the Muslims were
running rampant about the place looking for us?” When Dustin shook her head, he
smiled broadly and continued with his story.

     He was nearly finished with the exciting
story about Joppa when one of the main players of the tale marched up in
jingling mail. Marcus’ face was grim; he knew Dud had been filling her head
full of Christopher's tales and he was angered.

     “Do not you have duties, Dudley?” he asked
coldly.

     Dud's eyes actually narrowed, a rare
occurrence for the no-questions-asked-obedient knight. He was doing nothing
wrong and did not appreciate the tone taken, yet he knew it was Marcus'
jealousy talking.

     “They are completed for this morn, my
lord,” he replied respectfully. “I was simply talking to Lady de Lohr.” He
deliberately used her title if for nothing more than to remind Marcus as to who
she was.

     Marcus' stiffened with hostility. “Then
find something else to do. I shall take the lady from here.”

     Dustin could sense the animosity and it
confused her. Dud bowed quickly and was gone before she could thank him and
Marcus instantly took his place.

     “Where were you walking to?” he asked
nicely.

     She eyed him. “Why were you so rude to
him?”

     He raised his eyebrow. “I wasn't. Where are
you going?”

     ''Aye, you were,” she snapped, turning her
back on him and beginning to walk away.

     He caught up to her. “Do not turn your back
on me. I asked you a question.”

     “And I asked you one. Answer mine and I
shall answer yours,” she said evenly.

     His first reaction was to flare but he
calmed himself. They walked several feet before he answered. “Let me make
myself clear, Lady Dustin. I do not take orders from you. Requests I will
honor, but anything other than a polite question will not receive an answer.
Additionally, I expect you to respond to and obey me as a proper lady should. I
am master here, not you.”

     Dustin did not answer a moment, feeling
particularly stubborn. She was so used to having Marcus bow to her every whim
that she did not like it when he pulled rank on her.

     “Do you understand me?” he asked when she
kept silent.

     She shrugged, looking away from him. He
reached out and snatched her arm, whipping her around to face him. Poor little
Christin's head snapped with the suddenness of the movement and Dustin gasped.

     “Answer me,” he said in a low voice.

     He only succeeded in making her mad. “I
understood you perfectly. And I do not like being handled like a rough-house
wench.”

     “Then do not act like one,” he replied
smoothly.

     “I shall act as I please, Lord Marcus,” she
said. “If you do not like it, then send me home. I did not ask to come here.”

     He stared back at her a moment before
releasing her arm. “Yet you are here nonetheless and will abide by my wishes,”
he said quietly. “I do not wish to fight, Dustin. Would you take the nooning
meal with me, alone, in my chambers?”

     She gazed at him a moment. “Do you mean to
ask if I will bed you again? I do not feel like it.”

     He let out a hissing sigh and stepped back
from her, his exasperation showing for the first time. “If I wanted to bed you,
then I would do it. I do not need to ask your permission. I was simply looking
to spend some time alone with you.”

     Her mouth opened in outrage. “You would not
bed me without my approval.” she said hotly. “You are not my husband, Marcus
Burton, nor my lord and master and I shall not be treated like your concubine.”

     He grabbed her again and pulled her close
to him, his eyes blue flames. “I shall treat you like my wife if you will let
me,” he snapped with quiet ferocity. “Damnation, Dustin, what do I have to do
you to make you believe that my love is sincere? All I want to do is love you.”