Chapter 16 #2
Emily arched her back against him, and reached up over her head to bury her hands in his hair.
He wrapped one arm about her waist, then trailed his hand back to the juncture of her thighs. Emily moaned in pleasure.
“That’s it,” he breathed against her neck. “Surrender your weight to me.”
She did, and he rained kissed over her shoulders. She could feel the tip of his shaft pressing against her buttocks.
He sucked his breath in sharply between his teeth, then lifted his head. His fingers returned to torture her with pleasure. Emily couldn’t stand it. She writhed in his arms as his fingers slid in and out of her.
And as the ache in her built, he nudged her thighs wider apart and plunged himself deep into her body.
Emily moaned in pleasure as she lowered her hips to draw him deeper into her body.
Draven closed his eyes, savoring her sighs as he buried himself up to his hilt. Never had he felt anything more incredible than the tightness of her heat surrounding him as he thrust himself deeper into her.
Heaven help him for what he was doing. But this was all he had ever wanted in his life. Someone who could accept him.
She was a part of him he hadn’t realized was missing until she had stumbled into his life.
Emily clenched her teeth as exquisite torture wracked her body. Her head spun as he drove himself into her again and again, deeper than before. It was incredible, this feeling of him behind her and in her.
His fingers quickened to a rhythm to match the strokes of his hips. Her body became possessed of its own free will as it met him stroke for stroke, building her pleasure until she could barely stand it.
And then she exploded. Emily cried out as a sheer pleasure, more profound than anything she had ever imagined, tore through her. She tightened her hand in his hair as her body was literally turned inside out by his touch.
Draven closed his eyes as he felt her shuddering in his arms, and then he filled her with his own release.
Sated to a depth he had never known existed, Draven sank to his knees.
Emily turned around slowly. A sheen of sweat covered Draven’s body as he looked up at her in awe. Smiling, she knelt down by his side and pulled his lips to hers.
His kiss was deep and possessive as he toyed with her lips. “You were incredible, milady.”
She ran her hand over his brow, then through his hair as she stared at those multi-colored blue eyes. “I had no idea it could be like that,” she said in awe.
“Neither did I.” He reached for his tunic and wiped the sweat from his face before he returned to her.
Draven sat cross-legged on the floor, then pulled her to his lap. Emily bit her lip as he wrapped her legs about his waist and held her tight against him.
She quivered at the sensation of his muscled stomach touching the sensitive flesh between her legs. Smiling, she brushed his hair from his eyes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
Draven nuzzled at her neck, sending a wave of chills over her. “You know, I have wanted you since the moment I first saw you with that chicken.”
“Truly?” she asked.
“Aye.” He lifted his head to look her in the eye. “I can still see you there tormenting that poor man.”
She laughed. “That poor man was accosting me, sir knight.”
By the look of his face, she could tell he didn’t care for that thought one little bit. “Accosting you, how?”
Emily kissed the frown from his face. “Now don’t be angry, Draven. If not for Theodore’s inept attempts, I would not appreciate you.”
His face softened as he ran his hands over her breasts.
Emily could scarce think straight as he touched her. There was so much magic in his touch. It was strong yet gentle, and it amazed her that he could be so giving.
They sat there for hours, making love again until sometime in the wee hours when she became too tired.
Draven picked her up and laid her in the bed. She fell asleep almost as soon as he covered her with the blanket.
He marveled at the way she slept so soundly. He couldn’t recall a time in his life when he had felt as secure as he did just then with her nestled by his side.
He would sell his soul to keep the dawn from breaking. To be able to hold onto her like this forever. But he of all men knew the futility of dreams and wants.
The morning would come.
And eventually the truth of them would be known to all, and he would have to face Henry’s wrath.
A few short hours later, Draven watched the sun rise through the open window. Birds began to chirp and he heard the servants waking and going about their business in the hall below.
A gentle breeze ruffled the burgundy bed hangings and it carried on it a most unexpected sound.
At first, he thought he was imagining it but as the minutes ticked by it grew closer and more clear.
“An army?” Draven shot out of the bed.
“Draven?” Emily asked sleepily as she stirred. “What is it?”
“Someone marches on Ravenswood.” He scrambled to pull his clothes on.
“What?” She sat upright in bed, clutching the sheet to her breasts. “Are you certain?”
Draven picked his sword up and belted it to his waist. “As many campaigns as I’ve been on, aye. I know the sound all too well.”
Emily watched as he deserted her room. She, too, heard the sound of horses drawing near. Scrambling for her clothes, she quickly dressed and went to join Draven on the parapet.
At first, she thought she must be dreaming as she focused her gaze on her father’s pennant drawing closer.
But it was not her imagination she realized as her father camped his army just outside of Draven’s walls.
“What means this, Hugh?” Draven called down once her father came within hearing range.
“I’ve come for my daughter, you bastard!”
Emily went cold. “He couldn’t have found out, could he?”
“Nay,” he said to her before he shouted to her father, “She is under my protection.”
“Not after last night, she’s not. Now send her out or I shall tear down your walls to fetch her.”
Emily gasped at his words.
Her father knew! But how?
Draven put his hand on her arm to steady her.
“Father?” she called. “Why do you come for me?”
“He raided Keswyk in the night. I’ve sent word to Henry, and I will have you back now or else I will see his walls collapse. Release her, Ravenswood, and I might speak in your favor to Henry.”
Emily frowned. “You didn’t raid last night.”
“I know well enough where I spent the night, Emily, but should we tell your father where I was, he’ll want to raze more than just my walls.”
Draven was right. And she gulped at the thought of what her father would do if he ever found out what they had done.
“Father, you’re wrong!” She hoped and prayed he might be swayed to reason.
Draven grabbed her. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to explain to him that you didn’t do it.”
“Think you he’ll listen?”
“A—, nay” she finished. “He’ll hear none of it.”
“Prepare our defenses,” Draven called to his men. “Man the walls and—”
“Nay!” She grabbed his arm. “‘Tis my father you would fight.”
“Would you have me surrender my castle?”
Frustrated, upset, and terrified beyond thought she snapped at him, “Let me think. Surrender your castle to my father or kill him? I believe my answer is aye, surrender your hall!”
“Nay. I hold Ravenswood in the name of Henry, King of England, and I will not throw back my gates in surrender to a man Henry trusts not at all.”
She heard her father call to his men to prepare for battle. Emily trembled in fear.
What should she do?
What could she do?
Draven took a bow from one of the men at arms and prepared the arrow. As he tested the string, he caught sight of Emily’s ashen face.
Her eyes wide with panic, she stared at her father and he saw the love in her for her sire.
He lowered the bow and glanced out to Hugh. The man knew he stood no chance whatsoever. No one had ever taken Ravenswood, and no one ever could.
Yet for the love of his daughter, Hugh prepared his men to die.
His own father would have thrown him over the battlements to ward off an army. Harold would never have sacrificed himself to see his son safe.
Draven raised the bow again and aimed it straight at Hugh’s heart. He could end it all with one shot. Hugh was too stupid to even hide himself, and Draven had clear vision straight to the dark green surcoat.
All he had to do was let fly the arrow.
Do it!
He could hear his father’s voice in his head as he did every time he faced an enemy. Give a man the chance and he’ll be at your back, sword drawn, and plunge it straight through you. Always kill before he has a chance to strike the first blow.
Draven pulled back the arrow.
One shot and it would end.
One shot and she would be his forever.
Aiming, Draven let go the arrow, and as he intended, it flew wide of its mark.
He couldn’t do it.
Good or bad, right or wrong, Hugh was her father. And she loved him.
“Emily,” Draven called to her, his tone empty. “I give you a choice. You can stay with me, and I will protect you, or you can return with your father.”
She blinked at him as if she didn’t understand his words.
Draven approached her, his body numb. “If you leave me now, know your father will never allow you to return here. You’ll be lost to me forever. But the choice is yours. I will not make it for you.”
Emily couldn’t believe her ears.
Draven would let her go?
He would give her a choice?
In that instant she realized the full depth of her love for him. Few, if any, men would ever allow a woman to voice her opinion over her life or welfare.
He was her guardian and had full sovereignty over her. Yet he left the matter up to her.
She reached up to lay her hand against his cheek. She felt his jaw flex beneath her hand as he stared at her with those icy blue eyes waiting for her answer.
“I must go to him, then.”
The hurt in his eyes burned her.
“Draven, listen.”
He shrugged her touch off. “Go.” His voice was hollow and empty.
“But Draven, hear me out, I—”
“Nicholas!” He walked away from her. “Get her off the wall and escort her out the partisan gate.”
“Aye, milord.”
“Draven!” she called, but he didn’t stop or turn around. She fought Nicholas’ hold on her arm.
But the knight didn’t break his stride as he pulled her down the stairs.
“Hugh,” she heard Draven shout. “Hold your attack. Your daughter is coming out to you.”
Against her will, Emily found herself forced out the small gate to the side of the main door of Ravenswood.
She turned to open the door, but they had bolted it the instant she’d been shoved through it.
“Draven!” she cried desperately, banging on the solid wood until her entire arm ached.
But it was too late. He had finally succeeded in closing her out of his life.
Emily sank to her knees and wept at the door, wishing she could have five more minutes to explain herself to him.
“You stubborn fool,” she sobbed. “How could you?”
“How could you?” Draven whispered as he watched Hugh approach his gate and collect his daughter.
The vacuous hole in his chest returned tenfold as he saw her mount a horse and ride off.
She didn’t even look back.
Draven stood on the parapet wall until he could see no trace of her. She was gone.
His heart breaking, he ripped the damn stupid brooch from his cloak and clenched it tightly in his fist. Rage and pain shredded his soul, and he drew back to toss the piece.
“I thought you might have more need of a happy memory than me.” Her words echoed in his mind.
He tightened his grip on the brooch, digging the pin so deep into his palm that he bled from it.
“Damn you,” he cursed beneath his breath. “I wish I had never laid eyes on you.”
Indeed, she had taught him to love when he had thought himself incapable of it. Given him wings and in one instant she had ripped them off his back and sent him back to hell.
Only this time he knew the face and name of heaven, and the comparison made his hell all the more unbearable.
His chest tight, he turned on his heel and made his way slowly back to the hall.
“Denys,” he called as soon as he entered the donjon. “Gather the lady’s maid and her things and send them to Warwick, godspeed.”
“Aye, milord.”
Unclenching the brooch from his hand, he gave it over to Denys. “And see to it that goes with it.”
He scowled at the blood, but said nothing about it. “Aye, milord.”
Simon entered the hall behind him. “Draven?”
“Leave me.”
“But—”
“Leave me!” he shouted, taking a step toward Simon.
Simon locked his jaw, spun on his heel and did as Draven ordered.
As Draven made his way to his room he swore he could hear the echo of Emily’s laughter on the turret stairs. Smell the fresh honeysuckle of her hair.
He slammed his fist against the wall, leaving a bloody smear from where the pin had dug into his palm.
“I banish you from my thoughts. It will be as if you never were.”
But even as he said the words, he knew he would never be capable of the feat. She had branded him and he would never be the same.