The Pleasure Garden: Sacred Vows\Perfumed Pleasures\Rites of Passions (3 page)

Edmund stared at the object. It was a mask. The eyes hollow, surrounded by ornately carved leaves. He recognized it as part of the costume of the Green Man in the play. The grin on the stone face seemed to be poised in a playful smirk, as though about to wink at Edmund’s pursuit of the maiden.

Though the hedge bore no leaves, no fragrant blossoms of any kind, Edmund was surrounded by the alluring scent of roses in full bloom. His gaze moved from the mask to the gate, where he spied a crude nail, and hung the mask upon it. His heart thrummed as he reached out to break off a vine, and sensed the mask watching him, waiting. With a shove, Edmond pushed open the gate and stepped through, peering into the shadows. The moon shone down through the tangled branches, illuminating patches of the yard. Cautiously, he moved forward, scanning the garden void of the life that even now blossomed beyond the dormant hedge walls. He took another step, his eyes scanning the private space, and hoped the old monk would not suddenly reappear. Were they found, an Englishman with a Gaelic woman, there was no telling the punishment that might befall them.

He saw a movement in the shadows and found her standing next to a large fountain. Some of its grandeur
had crumbled, falling in disrepair, but a statue of lovers in a passionate embrace remained intact. For a moment Edmond watched her, again debating whether to stay or take his leave. She bent down, her long hair swinging forward to cover her face, and dipped her hands in the fount. Enamored, Edmund envied the water as it splashed over her eyes and mouth, watching as it cascaded down the gentle curve of her neck. Her hands followed, as did his gaze, as she smoothed her palms over her throat, letting them trail down over her breasts. Was it his imagination that she’d followed him to the labyrinth, or that she’d led him here in hope that they would be alone?

He braced his hand against a tree to steady his nerves, but the sound of his labored breathing belittled his efforts. She raised her arms in the air and began to sway to the steady beat of the distant drums. He’d seen bonfires begin to dot the hillsides, and heard music whose magic stirred in his soul.

She was beautiful, his pagan queen, lost in her sensual dance. He remembered the actor portraying the May Queen, and how she’d performed for her lover, finally consummating the desire that would not be denied. Raw and passionate, they had celebrated their union, dispelling the darkness.

Edmund blinked, watching her move freely, so blissfully unaware of anyone else. Or did she know of his presence, this Gaelic seductress who’d stolen glances at him throughout the day? It was then he realized he’d been the one living in darkness, but forced by his parents to enter the religious life. As the third son, he had no right to his father’s estate, nor had he the desire to make the military his life, like his other brother. For Edmund there was little choice other than the priesthood. And there was no
question that his alliance to the king in matters pertaining to Rome would be a boon to his father’s position. Edmund was resigned to them, all of them—his parents, the king and his petty rules and decrees—always doing what he was told, doing what was right.

This maiden was a light come to dispel
his
darkness. It all seemed so clear to him now. No longer afraid, he moved forward, careful not to startle her. Everything inside him seemed to resonate with certainty.

He saw the lifelike figures of the lovers at the center of the fountain, in what might have once been a beautiful garden. The male statue, missing one arm, held tight to his lover with his other, his face turned to hers as though declaring his love.

Edmund emerged from the shadowy arbor into the open, where the fountain stood at the base of the massive tower. He had no idea what he would say, or if she would be able to understand his words. How could he make her understand that she held him by some magical spell, and that only she had the power to set him free?

A feather-light hand touched her shoulder. Startled, Cara backed away, but the stranger’s fingers caught her wrist. Her heart beat wildly, as she saw it was the handsome man from the labyrinth. And though she had wished for this moment, now that it was reality Cara was filled with mixed emotions.

“I mean you no harm,” he said softly, inching forward as she moved away, until her back met the tower wall.

His broad shoulders blocked the moonlight as he stood in front of her. He held her hand, threading his fingers through hers. Cara felt the heat of his body through his
clothes. He smelled of wood smoke and night air, a potent combination.

She would not succumb to her fears of what her father might say, of what might happen if they were caught. She wanted this. She’d wanted him from the moment their eyes met. “I am not afraid,” she told him.

He touched her cheek, tracing her lips with the pad of his thumb. She held his gaze, his eyes glittering in the moonlight as he lowered his head, lightly brushing his lips to hers. She welcomed his hungry mouth. He held her arms pinned to her sides, and the frustration of not being able to touch him heightened her desire. Insistent yet gentle, he left no doubt that she was not alone in her lustful thoughts. At last he released her arms, holding her face to his. She slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him close, savoring every kiss as though she might awaken from this dream.

Desperate to touch him, she tugged his shirt free, and he smiled, drawing it over his fine torso. He closed the gap between them, capturing her mouth again as though they were lost lovers needing to satisfy a desire too long denied. She smoothed her hands over his heated flesh, in wonder at the delight of touching a man’s body.

He pulled his lips away at long last, leaning his forehead against hers, and she watched the rise and fall of his broad chest. “See what you do to me?” he whispered, and took her hand, placing it over the swell at the front of his brocs. His breath caught and he leaned forward, his sighs fanning across her face, intermittent with his burning kisses, as she caressed his length.

Cara’s senses spun in sensual bliss. She felt so empowered that she could coax such a reaction from his body.
He pushed forward, pressing into her hand with another audible sigh.

“I need…” His voice trailed off, ending with a kiss that threatened to set her skin on fire.

She had not a reasonable thought in her head. All she could think of was being close to him, as close as her body would allow. “Yes,” she replied, and began to tug up her gown. His hands covered hers, helping her to bunch the gown around her hips. A cool breeze circled her bare legs and his hand moved between her thighs, coaxing a sigh from her lips. Cara closed her eyes in abandon to the dark and smoky sensation of his long fingers teasing her maidenhood. His mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss, barely giving her time to take a breath. Her body grew hot, her skin damp. Her emotions spiraled out of control as a need built inside her. “Please,” she muttered incoherently.

Everything stopped, including her heart, as he stepped away and moved swiftly to free his swollen cock. He kissed her thoroughly, lifted her into his arms and, bracing her against the stone, pushed into her ready virgin sheath. His kiss ignited the smoldering fire inside Cara, and she held on tight, crushing his mouth to hers as the quick stab of pain turned to liquid heat. She cradled his neck, his eyes meeting hers as he withdrew from her partway, reentering deeper each time, stretching her until he filled her completely.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, nuzzling his lips to hers, rocking his hips gently and letting her body adjust to his. His fingers kneaded the sensitive flesh of her thighs as he seduced her with slow, thorough kisses. Cara laced her fingers in his hair, pulling him close, riding the fluid motion of his increasing thrusts. Lost in a haze of magic, she turned her face to the heavens, pressing him to her chest.
The moon shone down, causing her to gaze in wonder at its remarkable beauty. She could barely breathe for the dizzying feelings imprisoned inside her, desperate to be freed. Cara teetered on the verge of sensual madness, needing relief and yet not wanting this to end. A gentle breeze whirled around them, lifting her hair, brushing across her fevered skin. The scent of roses grew stronger, as her body broke free in a blinding rush of pleasure. The sound of his low groan brought her attention back to him as he pushed deep, his body shuddering with his release, spawning another wave of ecstasy in her body.

Cara clung to him as though her life depended on it. Then she leaned her head back and took a gulp of cool night air. As she did so her eye caught the profile of a shadow leaning out the window above. A slice of moonlight washed over the face, and her breath caught in her throat. Concerned by her gasp, her lover set her feet on the ground, and Cara smoothed down her kirtle. Her body still thrummed from the experience, yet save for the soreness betwixt her legs, reminding her she was no longer a child, she felt no different inside.

She watched him dress, this stranger she knew nothing about, who, unknowing, had taken more than her virginity. She’d given him a piece of her heart, but hadn’t expected to feel more alone than she had before.

Cara wrung her hands and waited until he finished and raised his eyes to hers. “Are you well? Pray, tell me that I was not too rough.” He took her hands in his, searching her face with what seemed genuine concern. Cara guarded her true feelings, careful of giving too much of her heart to this Englishman. No, though he hadn’t admitted it to her yet, it wasn’t hard to discern.

“I think there is someone in the tower, watching us.” She pointed to the window.

He stepped back and peered into the darkness. “I think perhaps it is nothing more than a carving in stone.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Well, there is only one way.” He took her hand and tugged her through the open door and up a spiral stone staircase. Partway, he stopped, and in the pitch blackness, she felt him squeeze his body next to hers. His breath on her face alerted her to how close he stood.

“My name is Edmund. What is yours?”

“I am Cara. You are not Gael, are you?”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Cara felt his hand brush through her hair. “If we are caught—”

His finger touched her lips, silencing her. “We won’t be.”

“You are a man sure of himself.”

“Have not I proved myself on that point, milady?” His teeth shone in the dark stairwell when he smiled. “Now I shall prove that no one is in this tower.”

He stepped around a wood door sagging on its hinges, and held her hand as she followed him.

“See, there is no one here.” A swathe of moonlight illuminated the small interior, revealing a plain chair, a small wood table and a pile of straw piled against one wall. A blanket most likely left behind by a traveler lay in a heap on the floor.

Edmund leaned out the window and Cara hurried to his side. He twisted his body, having no fear that he might lose his balance.

“Look here, just as I thought. It is but the carving of
a face in stone. Come, see for yourself.” He pulled back inside and ushered her forward.

Cara didn’t want him to know she was skittish about heights, so she leaned on the window ledge and craned her neck as best she could to catch a glimpse of the carved face. She drew back in turn and closed her eyes, taking a breath before reopening them.

“Do you believe me then?”

“Aye, it is as you said.” She thought of the statue of the lovers below. “It is the Winter King looking down on the forbidden lovers.” She gazed out at the bonfires glowing on the horizon. Edmund came to her side and they shared the view together in silence.

“You mean the Green Man and the May Queen,” he said, brushing her hair over her shoulder. The simple, sweet gesture brought a tear to her eye, and she blinked it away.

“When the king discovered they’d betrayed him, he placed a curse on them, and every year the Green Man has to fight the king to bring the May Queen out of the darkness she is in. It is the legend of our Celtic seasons.”

“And you believe this legend is real?”

Cara looked at him then and saw something in his eyes that she’d never before seen—adoration. “We are like them. We should not be talking. You should not be here.” She touched his face. His expression was full of naive promise, just as she felt, deep inside. But the reality was that they couldn’t stay in this secret place forever.

He softly grazed her cheek with his knuckles. “Let me worry about the English king, who is far away from here and cannot order what my heart can and can’t feel.”

Cara looked out the window, leaning her hands on the ledge, wishing it were so easy to dismiss the English king.
But she’d heard enough of her father and mother talking to know he was a man who always found a way to get what he wanted.

She felt Edmund’s arms encircle her waist.

“Do you suppose that your secret lovers wasted one moment of the time they had together?” he murmured, nuzzling the back of her neck.

She laid her head against his shoulder, bewildered that she should feel so at home in his embrace. “Nay, I would say they did not.”

He eased aside her hair, pressing his lips to the back of her neck. The now familiar signs of desire smoldered, her body heating to his touch. His nimble fingers stroked the curve of her throat, turning her face to meet his mouth. Cara marveled at how well he knew what her body craved—when to be gentle and when not to be. She smiled as he loosened the ribbons holding the back of her gown together, making adequate room to slip his hand beneath her bodice. His fingers caressed, weighing one and then the other breast, rolling her nipples between his fingers as he kissed her senseless. He turned her to face him and, checking for her response, slid the gown past her shoulders, until it hung at her elbows, her firm breasts exposed to him. Cara accepted another kiss, her breathing growing rapid as his mouth left hers and slid over the sensitive tip of one breast. Her fingers trembled as he caressed her, tormenting her with teeth and tongue. Every moment with him she learned more about herself, what gave her pleasure. She let out a shuddering gasp when he suckled her, sensing the wet heat trickling down her leg.