“’Tis an exceptional bottle of wine for a goat,” Ena said.
Renault scanned the empty room and leaned closer as if imparting a grave secret. “Maybe I’m not talking about a goat.”
Ena’s breath caught. “So, it isna Maribel ye came for then?”
“It was you.” Renault trailed his thumb down her jaw and ended at the bottom of her chin, which he angled upward. “Always you, Ena. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being hurt.”
“I dinna need…” Tears swam in her eyes. “I could have…” She rested her forehead against Renault’s. “I was so frightened.” She whispered her confession, as if she was ashamed for even him to hear it. “I worked so hard to no’ ever be a victim again, but when I heard him at my door...” Her voice choked off. “I was so scared, I couldna move. I—”
He couldn’t help himself then. He pulled her into his arms and held her as her tears came.
“I’m such a fool,” Ena said brokenly against his shoulder.
“You’re the bravest woman I know.” He rubbed her back while keeping an arm protectively curled around her.
He wanted to stay like this forever, saving her from her own hurt. Being her comfort.
When at last her tears subsided, he tilted her chin up so she would look at him. He wiped the evidence of her sorrow away and intended to tell her once more how brave she was. But her focus dropped to his lips and her lashes swept closed as her mouth softened for a kiss.
Barely registering the thought, his body reacted to her need. He lowered his head to hers and captured her lush mouth with his own. The tender pressure of their lips gave way to the brief touch of tongue to tongue.
He stroked his against hers hesitantly, not wanting to take advantage of her overwrought state. But then she increased the intensity of their kisses, slanting her mouth over his, her hands running down his chest.
She was too alluring to resist, especially when she took his hand and settled it at her waist. The reins of control that Renault held in a tentative grasp slipped. Suddenly he was kissing her with the same fervor as his hands roamed over her lithe body.
Ena wore only her sark, just a thin bit of linen. She might as well be naked. He felt everything concealed beneath that insubstantial layer of cloth. The curve of her waist, the tantalizing flare of her hips and the roundness of her bottom. Heat seeped from the fabric, warm as her skin beneath.
She tugged at the ties of his gambeson and pushed it from his shoulders. He reluctantly released her for the instant it took for the padded garment to fall to the ground. His hands were immediately on her once more, catching the weight of her firm breasts and rubbing his thumbs over her nipples.
She cried out against his mouth and her hips bucked against his. The small action gave an element of friction at his groin that set his blood alight with fire. His cock swelled with such force, he thought it might pop free from his trews.
One of her legs eased up the side of his body, opening her thighs to accept the fit of his pelvis to hers. It was too much. Too soon.
He should leave.
Yet, even as the thought blared in the back of his mind, his hands cupped her bottom and pulled her snugly against his straining cock. Her head fell back with a moan of pleasure.
He wanted to stay, to kiss her and grind their sexes together through the layers of clothes he wished they could both remove. But she was a maiden.
He withdrew from her with earnest intent.
He should—
“Touch me,” she whispered.
He stared intensely at her. Had he heard her correctly? Should he listen?
Nay. He should leave.
Now.
A slow, coquettish smile spread over her kiss-reddened lips. “Touch me, Renault.”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t—”
She took his hand in hers and lowered it, first to her breast. Her eyes slowly closed, and she exhaled with obvious enjoyment. She opened her eyes, watching him as she moved his hand down her flat stomach to the apex of her thighs.
His breath came more deeply, but he did not draw his hand from her light hold. Instead, he allowed her to guide him to her most intimate place.