Page 37 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“Would this help?” She hoisted up the gown, showing the bottoms of her legs. She wore hose that extended halfway up her legs and were tied around the bottom of her knees with garters to keep them from falling.

He gently measured her legs to the knees, and then looked up at her. She saw something in his eyes she couldn’t describe. To her, it seemed like a mixture of lust and terror.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I’ll need to put my hands under your gown to measure the length of your upper legs. All the way up to your waist and... and groin.”

“I see,” she said in a breathy whisper. “I didn’t realize you had to do that.”

He shook his head again. “This can wait until tomorrow. Come back dressed in trews and we’ll continue then.”

“Nay!” She raised her voice as he started to get up, her hand on his shoulder stopping him. “Please, continue. I don’t want to waste any more time. This is important.”

“If you insist, my lady.” He nervously cleared his throat again. A click sounded like the door to the bedchamber opening. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Good night,” he called out, and the door to the adjoining room slowly closed with a thud. Again.

“I’m ready,” she said, still holding up her gown to her knees.

“I’ll be quick about it,” he told her, looking up with bright blue eyes.

“Take your time.” She felt her breath hitch when his fingers touched her knee with the measuring string. Then ever so slowly, with his other hand he slid the rest of the string up the bare skin of her thigh, rounding the outside curve of her hip. A warmth coursed through her. His hand was on her bare skin and very close to her most private parts.

“Almost done,” he said, his voice sounding husky again. “I’m going to measure the-the inside of your upper leg now.

“Of course,” she said, watching him with his hands under her skirt. She felt him pressing the string against the inside of her leg, slowly sliding it against her bare skin higher... and higher... and higher.

Her undergarment consisted of only a thin chemise. She wore no braies, as most women didn’t unless they had their menses. The top part of her legs were bare, as well as all her womanly parts. The feel of his hand sliding up her leg toward her groin sent a tingle of desire rushing through her.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he whispered, clearing his throat once again. He seemed more nervous about this than she felt. “I’ll need you to spread... I mean, open... I mean, can you move your legs apart slightly?”

“Certainly.” She took a wider stance, feeling his fingers pressing the string up where her leg ended and her most private part started. The back of his hand actually brushed against her womanly folds. When it did, she felt herself contract, and a strong vibration go through her. This intimate action made her feel so alive. So wanton, and hot and lusty. “Oooooh,” she moaned softly, not able to tamp her desire.

It must have alarmed him, because he quickly removed his hand from under her gown and bolted to an upright position.

“Let me... let me just record the numbers.” He headed back to a table to write down the measurements. She noticed him running his hand through his hair and adjusting the waist of his tied apron before he turned back around.

“Are you finished?” she asked, hoping not.

“I assure you, I have only just begun.” He came back holding his string, standing right in front of her, so close that she swore she felt heat emanating off his body. Or was it hers? “I need to measure your upper body now.”

“I understand.” Her tongue shot out to lick her dry lips. She could hear the spitting of the coals on the forge, not wanting to be extinguished. It felt as if she had a fire within her and she was trying to contain it before it raged up out of control. “Go on, then.”

“Hold up your arms slightly. I need to measure your chest.”

She did as he instructed. He took the string and put it around the back of her, bringing it forward over her breasts, holding the string together in front. She could feel the pressure of the measuring string right through her clothes, pressing against her nipples.

His fingers had brushed slightly against her breasts this time. The action excited her and made her breathe heavily, which only made her chest expand and contract, causing the string to get tighter and then looser.

“My lady, perhaps you need to hold your breath?” Jonathon seemed suddenly different. His eyes were fastened to her chest. If she wasn’t mistaken, his hands were shaking. “If you really insist on wearing armor, you’ll have to bind your breasts, you realize.”

“Bind my breasts?” she asked, thinking it ridiculous since she was well endowed. Never had she ever imagined having to do something like that. “Will it hurt?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his eyes meeting hers now. “I’ve never had... breasts.” They stared into each other’s eyes.

Raven felt parched and could barely swallow. She swore she felt her nipples harden just from his eyes on her chest. The light throbbing between her thighs became stronger, and all she could think about was being naked and pressed up next to Jonathon’s naked body.

Her lips felt dry, so she licked them. That’s when his eyes fastened to her mouth. His body was close to hers, his hands still holding the string around her breasts. He leaned in closer. So did she. Then, before she had a chance to even think this through, their lips touched and their mouths pressed together in a kiss.

Her eyes closed and her hands slid up his arms and to his shoulders. The kiss deepened and the passion she felt inside alarmed her. His lips started to pull away but she did not want it to end. Instead, she went back for another kiss, craving the taste of this man on her tongue.

Jonathon hungrily took what she offered. Raven’s body tingled and a heat rose inside her belly that had nothing to do with the fire from the forge. And when his palms gently settled over her breasts and he gave them a light squeeze, she lost all her morals and almost her mind as well.