Bedchamber
Welcome to the castle bedchamber!
What does one do in a bedchamber? Get dressed, of course! Here is a video of my daughters helping me dress in my Queen Elizabeth 1 court costume.
Take a peek inside the tower room of Girnigoe Castle, in Ella’s bedchamber!
Right now, though, she needed to make Cain trust her. Let him think she was yielding to his marriage request and his handsomely dangerous looks. Let him lose a bit of himself in the same heat Ella had felt when she’d kissed him in the tree.
Ella’s fingers twined behind his neck into the soft waves of his wheat-colored hair. Ye are rather a mystery to me. Let Cain be surprised by her courage and prowess even though she was a maiden. She wanted to be someone whom he could not easily predict. She wasn’t a chess piece, despite his trying to dictate her moves in their game of war.
A small step closed the gap between their bodies, and she boosted onto the toes of her borrowed slippers. The movement brought her into direct contact with his hard body. His thighs were solid tree trunks, and she could feel the largeness of his cod against her. She stiffened, but with an inhale, she tried to relax into the role of seducer, lifting her face up toward his to meet his uniquely beautiful blue eyes.
She tugged against his neck. Lord, why must Cain be so handsome? The small white lines where he’d been nicked in battle showed how close he had come to a mortal’s death, yet he thwarted his enemy every time, his strength and power so commanding. But right now, she must be in command.
“Once again, you are not making this easy,” she said when he didn’t tip his head down. “Must I stand on the chair?”
He inhaled, his nostrils flaring slightly, reminding her of a stallion about to charge a mare in season. The thought made her heart pound. His only answer was to slide his hands down her back until he reached the curve of her hips, lifting her slightly. She held her breath as he bent his face to hers, their bodies touching in the most intimate way two could be with their clothes still on. A flush poured through her, making her lips part to draw in breath. Nose to nose, he stared at her, until she realized he wasn’t going to kiss her. It had to be initiated by her to be his prize for winning.
His arms were corded limbs of strength on either side of her as he held her there. Ella could feel the whisper of his breath against her lips, the won kiss hanging motionless in the air between them, waiting to be given and taken. The bulge below seemed to grow larger, and the fact that merely holding her had stolen his wry grin fired her confidence.
Ella raised her hands to cup his jaw, the short beard covering his hard jawline rough beneath her palms. She leaned into him and closed her eyes as she pressed, slanting her face so that their mouths slid against each other.
His lips were firm yet soft compared to the rest of him. The shape of his mouth fit perfectly against the shape of hers, and her world began to tilt. As if a powerful dam tore apart under the onslaught of a raging river, a deep vibration came from him, and he bent forward over her.
She braced herself, hands on his shoulders, for the wave she could feel coming. Her heart beat faster as Cain slid his hands up her form to cup her face. The kiss deepened, and Ella was lost in the gentleness of his hands. Lost to heat and sensation and a tipping, giddy world that flooded her until all reason seemed to wash away. No clan names, no secret oaths, no strategies, no disloyalty. Not even games.
She heard another low grumble that vibrated from Cain’s chest as he held her, his masculine presence completely engulfing her as he surrounded her with his body. Yet she didn’t feel trapped. Oh no. She felt like she soared higher.
Her fingers curled into his massive shoulders as she clung, her mouth opening under his, giving him the freedom to taste her. A mix of chill and heat slid up and down her body as he swept inside, emboldening her to do the same. Her heart beat frantically—not in panic, but in need. Ella wanted him, and the ache at the juncture of her legs throbbed. She pressed against him, rubbing as his large paw slipped down to cup her backside, helping her find just the right spot. His other hand tangled in her hair, pulling loose the pins holding half of it on top. It fell, adding to the silky curtain of waves about her that he lifted and raked as he cupped the back of her head.
He tasted of honey ale and barely controlled, raw power, the intensity causing her to tremble. Their mouths moved as much as their bodies: sliding, tasting, giving, and taking. Ella’s breath ran out, but she barely cared, and she inhaled against him, stealing some of his. Her fingers curled into his arms as she clung, and she moaned softly, pleasure building inside her. It should scare her, this passion. Cain Sinclair was made of untamable power and lethal strength, someone she had no hopes of controlling. Yet the fire in her swelled up, burning away any concern. The need to draw him into her overrode everything. It was carnal and fierce, an instinct that made her blind to everything else in the world.