She’d left her companions in the kitchen and gone in search of Marc. Jarek had met her just inside the main entrance. He seemed older than he had yesterday, the lines on his face deeper. Concerned, she’d asked him if he was okay.
He’d stared at her as if trying to see inside her, to read her very thoughts and examine her soul. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience. Then he’d shaken his head and offered her a smile, telling her all was well. She didn’t believe him but she hadn’t called him on it either. He’d told her that Marc was still down at the stables and then left her standing there.
His mood had left her unsettled but she shook it off as she slipped past the stable door. It was darker in here and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The smells were more pungent here, more earthy. The scent of horses, leather and hay permeated the very walls of the place. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, merely different from anything she’d ever experienced. She’d only seen horses in books until she’d come here and she longed to actually touch one.
She crept down the long aisle and found Marc in a large stall, brushing a gigantic black horse. His large sword was leaning against the wall of the stall, allowing him more freedom of movement around the animal.
Leaning against the door, she watched him, once again taken by the broad strength of his shoulders and arms and the gentleness of his touch as he groomed the animal.
The rhythmic motion of the brush was hypnotic. She could almost feel the touch as if it were her body he stroked.
Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples puckered. This was crazy. After last night, she figured she’d be sated for weeks to come. But the simple sight of Marc brushing the silky hide of his horse had all her hormones on alert. Her skin felt sensitized and the slight breeze coming in through the door ruffled her hair and made her tingle all over.
Between her thighs, she could feel the folds of her sex growing thick and damp.
A soft sigh escaped her lips and Marc whirled around to face her, sword in hand.
He’d moved so quickly, she hadn’t even seen him draw his weapon. He held the heavy blade in front of her, both of them frozen in time. Then Marc cursed and sheathed his weapon, propping it back against the wall within easy reach. “I was lost in thought and did not hear you. I feared that maybe one of our guests had returned to challenge for you.”
“Is that likely?” Christina had told her that the challenge was over, that all the single men had accepted the fact that the tapestry had brought her to Castle Garen.
“No.” He turned back to the large beast and resumed grooming him. Marc seemed to be in an unusual mood. Or maybe it was a normal one. She didn’t really know him well enough to say. In spite of that fact, she could sense that he was tense and out of sorts and she felt certain that wasn’t usual for him. Not quite sure what to say or how to handle things, she decided to ignore it for now. If he wanted to tell her what was on his mind, he would.
The horse whinnied and stamped its large hooves. The long tail swished to one side and it turned its head and pinned her with dark, liquid eyes. She’d never seen anything quite like it in her life.
Kathryn sidled over closer, wanting to get a better look at the horse. Up close, it was huge. Much larger than she’d expected. She reached out her hand and then pulled it back. What if it didn’t like her? What if it decided to bite her? She eyed the animal’s rather large face and jaw. There had to be a lot of teeth in there.
“Do you want to touch him?”
Muscles worked in Marc’s jaw but she didn’t sense that he was angry or upset with her. She shifted closer and watched as the muscles in his shoulders rippled. “Yes. I’ve never seen a real horse before.”
“Never?”
She sensed his surprise and smiled. “No. I’ve seen pictures in books but this is the first opportunity I’ve ever had to actually see a real one.” Marc smiled at her then and all her concerns fell away. The sun streaming in through an open window surrounded him, making him appear like some guardian angel or a hero from an epic poem. His brown hair flowed to his waist, caressing his bare shoulders and biceps. The vest he wore was open, revealing the hard planes of his chest. She’d touched that chest, slept with her face snuggled against it, yet like the horse, he seemed almost too good to be real.
He captured her easily with his golden-brown gaze and she leaned closer to him.
She simply wanted to be near him, wanted to touch him. God, how she would miss him when she was gone.
Resentment filled her at the thought of having to return to her home. Why had the tapestry shown her this glimpse of heaven when she had to go back and right the wrongs of her father? It wasn’t fair. But then, she’d learned early in life that fair had nothing to do with anything. Fair only happened in stories and fairytales.
“Give me your hand.” He didn’t wait for her to comply but reached down and captured her fingers in his. Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn before lifting it and placing it against the horse’s neck.
She could feel the heat and the silky coat of the horse beneath her fingers. “What’s his name?”
Marc shifted so that he was standing behind her, his chest to her back. Horse and man surrounded her. “Destiny.” He slid his hand down her arm, raising goose bumps on her flesh.
She tried to concentrate on the horse but it was almost impossible as Marc’s hands slid down her back and around her sides. He dipped his fingers beneath the hem of her tunic and pushed upward. Her breath caught in her throat as she raised her free hand, resting it against the horse’s back. Destiny stilled, his large black body not moving a muscle.
The fabric bunched as Marc’s hands continued their upward journey. Cream slid from her core and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. She wanted Marc and her body was making no secret of that fact.
“Feel the strength of the horse’s muscles beneath your palms,” he whispered as the edge of his hands brushed the undersides of her breasts.
As if all her senses were heightened, Kathryn could feel the muscles beneath her palms bunching and relaxing. She licked her lips, desperately trying to pay attention to the conversation but it was difficult. If Marc raised his hands the slightest bit he would be cupping her breasts. Her nipples tightened in anticipation. “I feel it.” He circled his hands around her breasts, his thumbs outlining her areolas but not quite touching them. “So soft.”
It was the most exquisite torture imaginable. Kathryn knew they were taking a chance. Anyone could walk into the stables and see them. Her tunic was pushed over her breasts and Marc’s hands were cupped around them. But the fear of being caught only served to heighten her arousal.
She pushed her hips back against him, moaning when she felt the hard length of his arousal against her bottom. Marc groaned, burying his face in the curve of her neck as he thumbed her nipples.
The sensation shot straight between her thighs. She was hot and wet and more than ready for him to fuck her. “Marc,” she panted as he tugged gently on the turgid peaks.
“Hmm…” he answered as he ground his cock into her bottom.
“Someone could come in and see us.” The smell of horse and leather and man was thicker now but underlying it all was the musky scent of arousal. Hers.
Marc nipped at her neck and then soothed the slight wound with his tongue.
Kathryn sucked in a breath as her body responded to the caress. The crotch of her pants was soaked with her cream.
“I want you, Kathryn. I want to pull your pants down your sleek thighs, spread your legs wide and fuck you until you scream with pleasure.” She couldn’t think. His words echoed in her brain until nothing else existed. No one or nothing else mattered. Right here and now, all she wanted was the man who was giving her such pleasure. She wanted his hardness buried deep inside her, soothing the ache that he’d created. “Yes,” she moaned as he plied her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers.