Page 91 of Her Warrior King
ToIsabel’ssurprise,cheerserupted from the ringfort when Patrick rode inside. Though it was nearly the middle of the night, torches blazed inside the fortress. All the folk awaited them, down to the children sleeping in their mother’s arms.
Patrick lifted her down, and the Normans removed their helms, offering tribute. Isabel managed a smile, but inside she wanted to weep with gratitude. She was home, where she belonged. Patrick’s hand rested upon the small of her back in a silent reminder of support.
Behind them rode the remainder of the tribe. They, too, joined in the thunderous noise of approval. Isabel walked among them, feeling overwhelmed by their acceptance. Her cheeks were wet with tears. She didn’t know when she had begun to cry, but after so many weeks of being an outsider, it was hard not to release her feelings.
Patrick clasped her hand in his. “We have brought our queen home safely.” He drew her in the center of therath, and Isabel dried her tears while the Irish and Normans offered their good wishes.
“Because of our lady and her efforts, Strongbow has spared our fortress.” To the Normans he added, “I thank you for defending Laochre in our absence.”
Isabel caught the look of understanding that passed between both sides. Although it would take time for the men to blend together and see each other as friends, at least they had built trust between them.
Then her husband addressed all of the people. “It is late, but on the morrow we will host a feast in the Great Chamber. All are welcome.”
She translated Patrick’s proclamation for the Norman forces, and then accepted the good wishes of both Irish and Norman alike.
Patrick stood by her side, his palm caressing her back until Isabel longed to retreat to the privacy of their chamber. At last, he dismissed the remainder of the folk and led her away.
They raced up the winding staircase, and when they reached the top, Patrick lifted her into his arms and carried her inside his bedchamber. He bolted the door behind them, staring at her like a barbarian warrior. Slowly, he let her slide down his body until Isabel couldn’t wait any more.
She met his kiss with her own frenzied need. Their clothes fell away in a rushed tangle of hands until at last they stood skin to skin. Patrick lowered his mouth to her throat, and Isabel sighed as shivers erupted over her body. Her nipples tightened, and he kissed the tight buds until she moaned.
“I love you,” he murmured against her skin. He led her to the bed, laying her down upon the soft coverlet. “I’m never letting you leave me,a ghrá. You’re mine.”
She watched him with eyes filled with love. “As you are mine.” Embracing him, she reveled in the feeling of his body against hers. “I love you, Patrick.”
To her surprise, he leaned down and picked up her fallen veil. In a single motion, he rent it in half.
“What are you—”
But the answer became clear when he gently tied each wrist to the bed posts. “I told you what I would be doing to you, my lady wife.” He slid a finger beneath her bonds, testing to be sure they weren’t too tight.
Isabel wanted to protest, but being unable to move offered a strange excitement. Her husband pinioned her body beneath his own, his mouth whispering what he planned to do to her.
And oh sweet saints, he did exactly that. With his hungry mouth, he blazed a path across her naked body, teasing and tempting her. He spread her thighs apart, lifting her hips for a more intimate kiss. Heat shot through her, while her wicked warrior tormented her until she spasmed.
His hands moved over her breasts, lightly pinching the nipples until they rose up, heavily aroused. His mouth encircled each tip, sucking hard until wetness surged between her legs.
“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” he breathed, whispering across her skin. “And I fell in love with you the day you swam the channel.”
He positioned his length between her legs, sliding deep within. Isabel wanted so badly to embrace him, but with her hands trapped, she could only accept the sweet torture.
With long strokes, he touched the very heart of her. “I want to give you children and spend each day waking beside you.”
He reached out and untied her wrists, freeing her. Isabel embraced him, raising her knees to take him deeper. The fierce pleasure rocked her backwards, but she clung to him as the sensations built up higher.
He increased his pace, driving inside her until at last Isabel cried out. He plunged deep inside, his face tightening as he poured himself within her.
She clung to him, shaking with the raw pleasure. Kissing him again, she reveled in the satisfaction of lying in his arms.
He nuzzled her cheek, smiling wickedly as he withdrew from her body. “It may take a while before you bear me a child.” His hands ran over the curve of her body to rest upon her womb. “We’ll have to make up for lost time.”
“Some day soon,” she whispered, praying his prediction would come true. “But only if you let me stay here at Laochre.”
“Forever,a ghrá.” He kissed her deeply, and then rolled out of bed to cross the room. He returned holding the silver torque and a matching silver diadem. “These belong to you, as is your right.” He fastened the silver around her throat and placed the crown upon her head. The metal warmed beneath her skin, but her husband’s touch distracted her more.
Isabel lay in his arms and offered up her own prayer of thanksgiving.
“What did you say?” her husband murmured against her lips sleepily.
“I thanked God fornotsaving me from this marriage,” she replied.
And then, as night cast its spell over them, her warrior king made love to her once again.
