Page 5 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood
“How much do you want me? Are you desperate enough to beg?” he drawled, watching the shapely leg she had just revealed.
This promised to be worthwhile, and he would make sure to enjoy it to the full. Dawn was still some time away; he was in no hurry.
But first, he would watch her.
2
To Rowena’s dismay, instead of joining her in bed, William sat down on the chair by the wall and stretched his legs in front of him. The movement was languid, the position one of idle curiosity. Only the fire in his eyes betrayed his desire for her.
She gulped as she realized he was about to ask her to sit on his lap, something she could not do. Not only was it demeaning but, more pointedly, she could not walk to him with an unsheathed dagger in hand.
“I don’t…” She was at a loss, not knowing what to say or do. Nothing was going the way she had anticipated.
“Show me how much you want this. Touch yourself.”
“P-pardon me?” Touch herself? What on earth did he mean by that?
“Touch yourself,” he repeated, his voice reduced to a purr. “It will please me to see it. As it will please you, I wager.”
She blinked in confusion. What was she supposed to touch? And why should it please him to see it? She’d thought he would want her to touchhim.
“You are unsure of what to do. Sit up,” he instructed. After a brief hesitation, she obeyed. “Now bare your breasts to me.”
Her mouth opened in shock. No one had ever seen her breasts before; how could he demand something so shameless from her? Her every instinct told her to refuse. This was too much.
But she couldn’t stop, not now. Such an opportunity to avenge her mother would never present itself again. When hestared at her with glittering eyes, she found herself reaching to her shoulder and lowering one side of her gown then the other, taking her chemise with it. She stopped, the neckline of her bodice hovering just above her nipples, who had gone rock hard.
She had meant to avert her gaze but she could not, for he seemed spellbound by what she was unveiling. Another tug and she would be exposed to a man for the first time. Rowena gulped and her chest heaved in a mixture of dread and undeniable anticipation.
William’s face had darkened with desire but still he did not move or say a word, nor did he urge her on. He simply tilted his head—and she gave the final tug.
He took a sharp intake of breath then, and she could not sustain the intensity of the moment any longer. The urge to cover herself again was strong, but not so strong that she could not resist it. Instead, she wrapped her arms about her waist and waited for him to tell her what to do next.
“Lie back down,” he whispered.
This time she obeyed without hesitation. Perhaps not having to look at him would help.
“Now lift your dress higher and caress yourself,” he said, his voice huskier than before. “Imagine my hands on you.”
The shocking proposition did little to overcome her embarrassment. Never had she wanted any man to touch her, nor had she imagined anyone’s hands on her without dread. Before her stepfather’s death, she had been too young to think about such things, and since that day, she had feared anything to do with men and lovemaking. Nevertheless, William was waiting.
She tried to imagine what he would do if he were on the bed next to her. His hands would skim the inside of her thighs, of this she was certain. Instinct told her his strokes wouldbe delicate, nothing like the demeaning, proprietary patting the other Norman had inflicted on her.
She closed her eyes, suddenly unsure she didn’t want William to touch her.
“What would you like me to do to you?”
The words made something explode between her thighs. It was inexplicable yet undeniable. Her insides had gone liquid. Cheeks aflame, Rowena placed a hand between her legs and let her fingers dance on her soft flesh. Heat bloomed under the feather-light strokes. It was nothing like when she washed herself with perfunctory gestures and she bit her lip at the shock of realization.
“Yes.” William grunted his approval. “You like this, I see, new as it is to you. Imagine I’m with you, running my tongue over your neck while I caress you.”
When he stopped speaking she opened her eyes and saw that he had moved. There was nothing relaxed about his attitude anymore, he had sat up on the edge of the chair, and his eyes were glinting.
She tried to imagine how she must appear lying on the bed, with her breasts exposed, her legs parted, and her fingers playing with her own folds. The sheer wantonness of the image made her close her eyes again.
“If you stroke yourself a bit harder, it will feel even better.” Judging from the edge in William’s voice she wasn’t the only one affected by what they were doing.
There was a pause—and then, shockingly, her fingers weren’t the only ones touching her anymore. Without her noticing he had come to the foot of the bed. Rowena cried out when he draped his big, warm hands over hers. What was he doing?
