“But you will know the consequences of disobeying your husband.”

Espy stepped closer to Trumble as lightning flashed outside the lone window, illuminating Craven as he emerged from the shadows. Or had the shadows parted, wanting to be rid of him. The size of him always amazed her, thick, large, and so powerfully built, and he appeared even more so now, his shoulders seeming to stretch on forever. His fine features were stern, his brow wrinkled with anger, his dark eyes equally so. The intimidating sight of him should frighten her, but it was not what she felt, not when her eyes fell on his chest and a tiny quiver ran through her, recalling how comfortable his chest was to rest her head upon and the strength of his arms when they wrapped around her, holding her, comforting her, protecting her.

My husband.

Craven was her husband. Was it true or would she wake to find this day nothing more than a dream? She felt her heart wither at the thought.

Craven reached out, his hand clamping down on her arm, and he snatched her away from the stallion, who was none too pleased by his presence, pawing the ground in agitation.

“Calm him,” Craven ordered when he brought her to stand beside him.

“Easy, Trumble. All is well,” Espy said in a voice that held not a hint of fear or worry, and the horse instantly calmed.

Craven did not say a word as he kept a strong hold on her and walked to the front of the stable, yanking open the door only to be met by rain plummeting the ground. He shut the door against the slashing onslaught and stepped into an empty stall, dragging Espy along with him.

Flashes of lightning were the only light in the stable, arriving unexpectedly and highlighting the anger in Craven’s dark eyes and the stiffness in his jaw.

It was time for her to suffer the consequences of her actions.

Craven leaned his head down until their faces nearly touched. “I will hear the truth spill from your lips or else...”

Espy went to speak, to try and explain, when suddenly her heart spoke for her. “I believe I am falling in love with you, Craven. I do not know when I first felt it nor can I explain it. It took root on its own and seems to dig in more deeply by the day. The more time I spend with you, the more time I want to spend with you. It makes no sense and I should not even share this with you, and yet I cannot help myself—” She stopped abruptly as if words suddenly failed her. Or had fear of his response stolen her tongue?

Lightning flashed again and she caught the warning in his dark eyes as he said, “Do not love the beast, he will only bring you pain.”

Espy rested her hand to his chest. “Too late. The beast already has my heart.”

Craven shook his head as he brought his brow to lie against hers. “I give you this one chance and my word. Run from the beast before it is too late, and he will never touch you.”

He dropped his hand off her, raised his head, and glared at her, trying to frighten her or perhaps fighting to contain the beast within him. She did not know and did not care.

“I cannot run from you, Craven. My heart would break if I did, and I would die a little each day until I withered away if I never felt your touch again. I told myself I was foolish. You could never care for me let alone love me, but my heart would not listen. It did as it pleased and I am tired of trying to ignore it and trying to deny it. I most certainly am not going to run from you. I have run enough.”

Craven felt the anger, the hate, the pure rage of the animal within him, who had sought revenge without thought or reason, draw back into the darkness where it lurked and waited. “You invade my dreams and my waking thoughts. My body aches for you, even more so when I touch you. I grow hard with just the thought of you, but… love. I do not know if I can promise you that.”

She reached out tentatively, hoping he would not back away from her and when her hand touched his cheek he flinched, though he let it remain there. “I have enough love for the both of us.”

Craven wanted her, his body on fire for her… but love her?

He took an abrupt step at her, meaning to frighten her off and she stumbled backward, and he had all he could do not to reach out and steady her, but he did not, and she did not run.

Her chin jutted out defiantly. “I am not afraid of the beast.”

“Then you are a fool,” he spat.

“I have been called worse and survived. You cannot, you will not, frighten me, and you will not stop me from loving you.”

The growl started low in his chest and rose up, but before it could break loose, Espy stepped forward and pressed her lips to his.

Craven grabbed a handful of her hair at the back of her head and yanked her head back, forcing her lips off his. “Once I claim you, once I make you mine, you are mine forever.” Lord help him, he wanted it that way. He wanted to make her his forever.

A soft smile spread across Espy’s face. “I already am yours forever.”

He brought his mouth down on hers with a growl rumbling deep inside him. Nothing ever tasted as sweet and delicious to him, and he did not think he would ever get enough of her.

His arm circled her waist and he lifted her off the ground as he continued to kiss her, to be nourished by her. Her kisses were as eager and hungry as his and he hated to break away from her mouth even for a short time, but he did, ordering her to, “Wrap your legs around me.”

She did, her legs hugging his waist tight and his lips found hers once again, their kiss even more demanding than before. He walked her to the back of the stall, bracing her back against the wall.

He tore his mouth off her, shaking his head. “I burn for you, have a need for you like no other.” He pulled down her blouse and scooped one breast out, dropping his mouth to suckle at her nipple. It had been so long, so terribly long, and she tasted so good, much too good.

His manhood had hardened quickly and was growing ever demanding. He wanted nothing more than to slip inside her and feel her close around him, then spill his seed endlessly in her.

Virgin.

The voice shouted loud and clear in his head, reminding him that she had never known a man. This was her first time, if he was to believe her, and he did.

He grabbed her hand and shoved it under his plaid. “Touch me,” he said.

Espy did not have to be coaxed. She wanted to touch him, feel the length of him and know he now belonged to her. She gasped when she felt his thickness and the silky hardness of him, and instinct guided her hand as she lovingly stroked it.

“Tighter. Harder,” he demanded.

She would have preferred to take her time and enjoy the feel of him, but she did as he demanded and tightened her hold around his shaft and stroked him hard, forming a rhythm of sorts and as he expanded in her hand, her rhythm increased.

“Harder,” he ordered and she obeyed.

The moistness between her legs grew until she felt a heavy wetness there and a throbbing that she knew only he could satisfy. She tried to draw him nearer to her, rub his wet tip against her wetness that beckoned him, but he kept her at a distance and she grew frustrated.

She slowed her pace and he groaned in her ear. “Do not stop.”

She did as he said, her own ache growing and tormenting her.

His head suddenly fell back and he let out a long lingering moan and she felt his seed spew out and spill over her hand. She eased her strokes.

“No,” he shouted as his brow fell on hers.

She kept stroking him until instinct told her, he needed no more.

Craven kept his arm tight around Espy’s waist, his hand clenching her side just above her hip. His other hand he kept braced on the wall just above her head, helping him to keep steady.

He had come hard, harder than he could ever remember and he would not have been surprised if he had come inside her that he would have planted more than one bairn. But he would not have her first coupling be against the wall of a stable or have it be quick because it had been so long since he had spilled his seed.

He took a deep breath and stepped back slowly so that instinct would have her releasing her legs from around him. When he was sure she was steady on her feet, he stepped away from her to snatch a cloth from the pile kept outside the stall and handed it to her.

Espy took it and wiped her hand. She remained silent, not knowing what to say to him.

Craven opened the stable door and while the rain was heavy, it was not the slashing downpour as before. He grabbed one of the cloaks kept by the door and went to Espy and wrapped it around her.

He scooped her up in his arms and held her close against his body. “Now I will seal our vows and nothing or no one can ever separate us,” he said as he walked out of the stable and to the keep.