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  Her fingers stroked the valley of her sex, where the flesh was as soft and supple as the finest velvet, and she began savouring the first faint flutters of pleasure. With Tarn’s image vivid in her mind, she touched her clitoris, rubbing it gently at first and then harder. Soon it became firm and tight, the heat of her desire magnified by the subtle sensations of the warm water gently caressing her open quim.

  A sudden blast of chill air crossed her shoulders, blowing out the candles, leaving only the flickering firelight to illuminate her room, but Rianna was too lost in her fantasies to care. She was almost able to smell Tarn’s familiar musky male scent and feel his strong fingers sliding deep inside her, his knuckles brushing her warm moist folds, while his lips nuzzled her breasts. She barely heard the sudden gust of wind that howled noisily around the castle walls, like a banshee haunting the night. All her attention was centred on pleasure as she slid the tip of her finger into her soft, welcoming opening.

  The wind died as suddenly as it had appeared, and the silence of the chamber was filled with the quick, sharp sound of Rianna’s agitated breathing as she strained towards the climax that remained just out of her reach. Then the skin on the back of her neck began to prickle, as she was filled with the knowledge that she was no longer alone.

  ‘Who’s there?’ she stuttered, her heart beating out of control. Suddenly she feared that the castle was haunted by some unhappy restless spirit who had come to do her harm.

  Rianna tensed nervously as a hand touched her shoulder, but it was no ghost: the flesh was firm and warm. Terrified for a moment, her mind froze into absolute stillness. The faint scent of lemon verbena drifted towards her as she willed her numbed limbs to work. It could only be Captain Leon, but surely he would not be so bold, she considered, knowing that she should speak out, order him to leave. Yet for some unidentifiable reason she could do nothing but remain where she was as warm fingers moved caressingly across the nape of her neck. Her skin prickled with pleasure as the hand moved seductively up and down the line of her spine. The alluring sensation was just too delicious to resist.

  ‘Fear not, my lady. I come to worship at the altar of your loveliness,’ a deep voice whispered in her ear. ‘Would you deny me that small pleasure?’

  ‘How could I?’ she gasped, her heart leaping at the familiar sound of his voice. She was hardly able to believe this was happening as he cupped her left breast, and tugged teasingly at her rosy nipple. Wine-tainted breath brushed her cheek, as she inhaled his musky odour, now overlaid with the rich aroma of lemon verbena that clung to his clothing. ‘You surprised me,’ she added, in a voice trembling with emotion. ‘How came . . .’

  ‘Hush, my sweet lady,’ he murmured, his mouth caressing her neck, his warm tongue tracing a line to her ear, before he pulled the tiny lobe between his lips and sucked on it gently.

  Rianna was hungry for this man. He was all she wanted. Her pussy ached with need for him and she was desperate to feel him driving deep into her tight core. ‘Please,’ she whimpered, as his hand slid into the water, stroking her stomach and the tangled curls of her pubic hair. ‘I want to feel you inside me.’

  ‘Soon,’ he murmured, pulling away from her, ignoring her soft moan of displeasure.

  Rianna heard the faint sound of movement as he pulled off his clothes. She waited, tense with excitement, not daring to turn her head and look at him, unwilling to break the circle of sexual magic that surrounded them.

  She shivered with excitement as he eased her forwards and stepped into the tub behind her, lowering his bulk into the water, which began to spill over the sides of the tub, gathering in puddles on the cold stone floor. Rianna gasped as she was pulled back against his warm naked flesh until her buttocks rested on his muscular thighs and her back pressed against his firm chest. She was faint with desire as the hard line of his cock pressed demandingly between her bottom cheeks.

  She was so aroused she could barely breath, and she wanted him inside her so much it was like a physical pain. Yet she also needed to savour every precious second, every sweet moment. She glanced down at the hands that cupped her breasts. In the flickering firelight his flesh looked dark against her pale skin as he rubbed her nipples, squeezing them roughly until she moaned with pleasure.

  Rianna ground her buttocks against the hardness of his groin, forcing his cock further between her arse cheeks as she heard his breathing quicken.

  ‘So eager,’ he said, with a soft chuckle of amusement. ‘So greedy for me, my sweet.’

  ‘Why not?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘I’ve been starved for so long,’ she added as his hand slid downwards, tracing the smooth curve of her belly. Her legs opened of their own accord as he ran his fingers through her crisp pubic curls and caressed the wet valley of her sex.

  The fleeting pleasure she’d managed to arouse with the pressure of her own hand was nothing compared to the hot rush of bliss as the rough pads of his fingertips stroked and teased her clit. He played her body as a master of music would his instrument, his touch setting her nerve endings alight and sending wheeling arcs of pleasure through her. Then he slid two fingers inside her, and began thrusting them in and out of the slippery wetness.

  ‘How I’ve longed for this moment,’ he said softly, his voice taut with passion as he lifted her, tipping her buttocks away from him so that he could slide into her with one smooth stroke. He jerked her back against his rigid stomach, filling her with the hot hardness of his flesh as he held his hand across the soft swell of her lower belly. The pressure of his fingers further increased the sensation of fullness she experienced as he began to roll his hips and thrust at the same time. A low moan escaped Rianna’s lips as he compounded the assault on her senses by lightly tugging at her clit, rolling the swollen flesh smoothly between finger and thumb.

  The water swirled and eddied around them, splashing over the sides of the tub in a steady stream as his movements became faster and more vigorous. All Rianna’s attention was focused on her relentlessly rising pleasure as she felt his body power harder and deeper. She had no wish for this to end, yet all too soon her stomach contracted as the sensations erupted into an orgasm so sweetly profound that she felt faint from its power as it ripped through her flesh.

  Panting breathlessly, she remained motionless, listening to the ragged sound of her lover’s breathing. She was still feeling weak in the aftermath when he gently eased her round to face him. Rianna smiled, feasting her eyes on his handsome face; she was filled with indescribable joy.

  ‘Fie on you,’ she teased. ‘Intruding on a lady’s privacy unannounced. For a moment, you scared me near half to death.’

  Tarn smiled lovingly. ‘I had no intention of frightening you, my sweet.’

  ‘At first, when I sensed a presence, I feared you were a ghost. Once I realised you were flesh and bone, I was unconcerned,’ she said, with a soft teasing laugh, not about to confess she’d not known for sure it was Tarn until he had spoken. ‘Who else would it have been? Your soldiers guard me well, they would never have allowed a stranger to enter my chamber.’

  ‘Perhaps some poor fool captivated by your charms?’ he gently jibed. ‘Captain Leon, for instance. He seems very taken with you, my love.’

  ‘You are the one who has cast a spell over my senses and captured my heart,’ she swiftly countered. ‘Although I confess that the scent of lemon verbena confused me for a moment. I know you prefer not to have it near you as the smell reminds you too much of Sarin’s palace.’

  ‘I had no choice.’ He shrugged his wide shoulders. ‘My own clothes were soaked, I’d ridden so long and so hard to reach you. Captain Leon’s shirt was a tight fit, but it served me well enough.’ Tarn chuckled. ‘I fear I’ve taken the last clean garment he had with him.’

  ‘No matter,’ she replied, dismissing her brief attraction for Leon from her thoughts.

  ‘The water grows cold,’ Tarn said. ‘If we stay here much longer, you might catch a chill,’ he added, easing away from her and standing up. Water st
reamed from his tall, muscular body as he stepped out of the tub and took hold of one of the linen towels, wrapping it around his waist.

  He scooped Rianna out of the water, and set her down on the fur rug in front of the blazing fire.’ ‘Tell me,’ she said, unable to hold back the question that now consumed her thoughts. ‘Is the battle won or lost?’

  Tarn laughed as he set about tenderly drying her. ‘Do I look like a fugitive fleeing for my life?’

  ‘You do not, my lord.’ Rianna touched the livid bruise on his sword arm. Praise the gods she could see no other damage to his flesh apart from a few very minor scratches and bruises. ‘So you won, but at what cost?’

  ‘None,’ Tarn replied with a confident smile, seeming very cheerful for a man who had just fought a terrible battle. ‘There was no need to fight. Orders came from Percheron for the army to withdraw and return home.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked in confusion, as he busied himself unpinning her hair, running his fingers through the silky red-gold strands and fanning them down across her back.

  ‘It appears that once Lord Sarin was deemed to have perished during his sortie into Freygard, there was a struggle to gain control of Percheron. Sarin had no legal heir, and at first the army remained in total control. Less than a month ago, Chancellor Lesand and his supporters managed to gain the upper hand. Lesand now rules Percheron as regent, and it was he who ordered the withdrawal of his troops from Kabra.’

  Lesand had proven to be a loyal friend to Rianna during her time in Percheron and had eventually helped her and Tarn escape Sarin’s clutches. ‘He’s a good man. I’m pleased to hear that he is safe and in a position of such authority,’ Rianna said with relief. ‘Now there can be peace at last.’

  ‘We can hope for nothing else.’ Tarn swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed. ‘We can concentrate on rebuilding Kabra, making it a happy and prosperous land. But first there are more important matters to attend to, are there not?’

  ‘If you say so, my lord,’ Rianna said meekly, but she was far from meek as she jerked off his towel and pulled him down beside her. Then she pressed tender kisses to each bruise, each tiny mark that marred his golden flesh, as she ran impatient hands over his body.

  She trailed her fingers slowly over Tarn’s cock. ‘Rianna,’ he growled softly as she felt his balls tighten and saw the shaft twitch excitedly.

  ‘Are you ready to pay your dues to me?’ she teased.

  ‘What dues,’ he gasped as she wanked him with smooth firm strokes.

  ‘I’ve waited for this moment,’ she told him. ‘Kabra is free and you can be mine at last.’

  ‘I have always been yours in my heart, Rianna,’ he replied, his voice trembling with the depth of his feeling.

  She milked him harder, easing her grip as she reached the tip, tightening it as she slid her fingers down to the less sensitive root. Tarn’s blue eyes narrowed with passion as she smiled wickedly, then leaned forwards to trail the tip of her tongue over the taut cock head, running it teasingly around the sensitive rim, knowing the gentle touch would drive him insane with lust as it always did.

  ‘Please,’ he begged.

  Rianna moved astride Tarn’s hips. ‘Do you submit?’

  ‘Do as you will with me,’ he groaned as she impaled herself on him, grinding her pelvis hard against his.

  Tarn stood on the battlements of the castle oblivious to the chill breeze that stirred his long blond hair. He narrowed his blue eyes; the sun’s rays were bright, yet its heat was barely discernible on this cold winter morning. The forest looked far less threatening in daylight now that the wind had blown away the last vestiges of the heavy mist.

  Sunlight pierced the leafless branches of the trees, bathing the roots where the first flowers of the approaching spring were stirring into life. Soon Kabra would be reborn also, stronger and more prosperous than it was before the invasion. Life was full of hope at last, Tarn thought, as he leaned against the icy moss-covered stone of the battlements.

  He had woken just before dawn and lay by Rianna’s side watching her sleeping, her glorious hair splayed across the pillow. She looked so innocent, her beautiful features so pale – almost as if they were carved from the finest alabaster. She had the face of a goddess, yet when she was awake her beauty was even more moving, more profound, because it was enhanced by the fire in her green eyes and the warmth of her smile.

  Tarn blessed the day he had found her – that fateful moment when, as a helpless captive of Lord Sarin, he had opened his eyes to find this glorious creature bending over him. In his fevered confusion he had thought her a faerie or some forest wraith come to lead him to paradise. Then he had discovered she was Sarin’s betrothed. He soon realised that in many ways she was as much a prisoner as he was. It had been both the best and worst time of Tarn’s life. He had found Rianna then she had been torn from his grasp, and he had almost lost himself in the dark carnal excesses he was forced to indulge in as Sarin’s personal body slave.

  ‘You seem troubled,’ said a gentle voice.

  Tarn turned to look at Rianna as she stepped on to the exposed walkway. ‘I was wondering what the future now holds for us,’ Tarn replied, pulling her close.

  Rianna’s hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore his thick, fur-lined cloak over her nightgown. The garment was far too long for her and fell in heavy folds around her slippered feet. ‘Nothing but good,’ she said confidently.

  In the distance an eagle swirled majestically across the clear blue sky. It flew towards a narrow plume of smoke, which came from the village barely a league from the castle, then turned and rose high into the heavens aiming for a distant mountain peak.

  ‘Soon spring will be here and with it the promise of new life.’ Tarn smiled lovingly at her. ‘A life filled with nothing but happiness.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Rianna prompted. She knew Tarn well enough to sense that something still troubled him.

  ‘My father’s condition worsens,’ he admitted. ‘A messenger arrived just before dawn. His doctors fear he will only last a day or so longer.’

  After the invasion King Brion had been allowed to remain on the throne of Kabra, merely as a puppet dancing to the tune of his new masters. He had even been forced to send his only son as a hostage to the court of Lord Sarin, and his health had started to decline from that terrible moment. He was already gravely ill when Tarn had returned home. Brion had managed to cling on to life all these months, but now Kabra was free he appeared to have given up the struggle to survive.

  ‘You must go to him,’ Rianna said. ‘Be with him at the end.’

  ‘When I am declared king, I want you beside me,’ Tarn said and hugged her even closer, unhappy at being forced to leave her again so soon. ‘But I will not allow my future queen to be placed at risk. I have ordered Leon to despatch most of his men into the forest to flush out any bandits remaining in the area. Once he deems it safe to proceed, you can follow me.’ Rianna was stubborn and self-willed at times, but Tarn was certain she would not disagree with this decision.

  ‘I wish I were a warrior like my mother,’ Rianna said frustratedly. ‘Then I could bear arms and always remain by your side, even in battle.’

  ‘Kitara was raised to be a warrior; you were not, my love,’ Tarn pointed out. He had great respect for the women of Freygard and even more respect for the beautiful Kitara. ‘Once matters are settled I can arrange for my swordmaster to tutor you – teach you to fight.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘You already have the heart of a warrior, Rianna.’

  ‘But not the constitution.’ She shivered. ‘It grows colder. Come inside.’

  ‘If you wish it.’ Tarn guided her through the arched opening and shut the sturdy wooden door. The narrow stone-flagged corridor was far from warm, but at least they were protected from the chill breeze. ‘Come,’ he said, pulling her closer. ‘Break your fast with me. Then I must ready myself for the journey, tis getting late.’

  ‘Not yet,’ Rianna stared thoughtfully up at him.


  ‘What ails you, my love?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She smiled. ‘I was just thinking how blessed I am to have you, Tarn. Now kiss me, then tell me how long we have before you plan to depart.’

  ‘Long enough,’ he growled, his mouth covering hers. Tarn kissed her hungrily, his lips locked fiercely on hers, his tongue probing and plundering her mouth.

  He slid one hand inside her cloak and cupped her breast. The heat of her flesh seared its way through the fine fabric of her nightgown, warming his icy palm. Kissing her with unrestrained passion, he stroked and kneaded her breast, feeling her nipple stiffen with excitement as she became more and more aroused.

  Rianna moaned, her breathing becoming ragged as she pressed herself against him, twining her arms around his neck. He pulled roughly at the thin fabric of her nightgown, ripping it apart in his haste to expose her body to his hungry gaze. He felt her tremble as the cold air of the passageway hit her bare skin, yet she seemed too aroused to bother with such minor discomforts as she whispered sweet words of encouragement in his ear. Tarn tore the fragile garment further and thrust his hands between her thighs. His cold fingers invaded the slit of her sex and began burrowing into her warm depths. Her flesh felt hot and moist as he thrust his fingers deeper until she gave a breathy moan of bliss.

  ‘Tarn,’ she gasped, straining urgently against his invading hand as her juices began to flow in abundance.

  Hot tremors ran though his body as Rianna pulled at the laces fastening his breeches together. They were only loosely tied and she easily jerked them apart to free his cock, which reared majestically out of the opening. Clutching hold of the rigid shaft, she wanked it until he gave a faint, almost despairing groan.