Craven’s lips found hers as soon as he placed her on her feet in his bedchambers. He had not gotten enough of her, he wanted more, especially her sweet lips that responded in equal enthusiasm. She did not shy away in fright or uncertainty. Her demanding kisses let him know just how much she wanted him, favored him and it fired his loins once again.

His hands worked her blouse out from the waist of her skirt and she hastily broke off their kiss and raised her arms as he brought it up and over her head, her lips returning to his as he tossed the garment to the floor.

His large hand cupped her one breast and her moan of pleasure reverberated in his mouth, and her body shivered when his thumb grazed her already hard nipple.

Her hands went to his waist to free him of his plaid, but it was tucked tight and her hands fumbled in their effort. He pushed them away and took a quick step away from her to shed his garments and boots and he was pleased to see her do the same with her remaining garments.

Once done, he lifted her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Her hands reached up to cup his face as he lowered them both down and she once again pressed her lips to his. Her kiss did not only excite, it also soothed something in him, letting him fully enjoy her playful lips that teased and taunted and begged for more from him.

He tore his mouth away from hers and she protested with a sorrowful moan that turned pleasurable when he took her one nipple in his mouth.

Pleasure shot through Espy stinging her senses as his tongue rolled over her nipple and then teased it with gentle nips. She cried out with delight when he treated her other nipple to the same pleasure.

There was not only strength to this man—her husband—but a gentleness as well. She was safe with him. He would not harm her and while he may not love her, he would always protect her. The knowledge that there was now someone that she could trust and count on made any misgivings she had about this marriage begin to fade, and she let herself surrender to his gentleness and strength.

Craven felt the change in her body, her tenseness faded to a supple, soft surrender and his desire soared that she should trust him so. That she should love him. He would not fail her. He would never fail her.

He trailed kisses down along her and as he kissed her stomach he thought of the bairns he would plant within her in the years to come. They would have many, for he would not be able to keep his hands off her.

There was a sweetness to her skin that he favored and he kissed and licked down along her silky skin until he settled on the tiny nub between her legs. When his tongue touched there, she arched her back and released a moan filled with such desire that it caused his loins to swell.

He let not only his tongue continue to ignite her passion but his fingers as well, slipping them inside her, gently, teasingly, and pleasuring her senseless.

“Craven.” His name was a plea on her lips.

He lifted his head to see her head tossed back, the slim column of her neck beckoning him, and her hands clenching at the bedding to each side of her. He moved up over her, stopping at her neck to kiss and nip at the sensitive skin.

“Craven,” she pleaded once again, her hands grabbing hold of his steel-hard arms and squeezing tight.

He kissed her lips. “You are mine now, Espy, and always will be.”

She nodded. “Always.”

He placed his hands to either side of her head and raised his body over her, then slipped his shaft between her legs.

Instinctively, or perhaps it was more fear that he would take too long, Espy’s one hand moved down to guide him inside her. Her hand returned to his arm when she felt his smooth entrance.

Craven stilled and Espy turned questioning eyes on him.

“Tell me you want this, you accept this, you take me as your husband as long as there is a breath left in you.”

“Even when there is no breath left in me, I will always love you and the beast,” she said with a soft smile.

Craven did not wait, he slid deeper inside her and when she raised her hips, forcing him even deeper, he could hold back no more… he slipped all the way in her.

Espy gasped, sighed, and cried out.

“I caused you pain?” Craven stilled again.

Espy shook her head. “No. No. Do not stop. It feels wonderful.”

A brief smile sneaked across Craven’s face at her words and the way she wiggled against him to get him moving. He did move. He started slow, though that did not last long since her hips beat to a faster rhythm and he was soon pounding harder and faster into her.

Espy gripped her husband’s arms tighter and tighter as if she needed to anchor herself to him, to keep the passion from carrying her off, though soon, very soon, there would be no containing it. She could not wait, did not want to wait.

“Craven!” she cried out, knowing he could help free her.

Craven felt his own passion near to exploding and he brought their bodies closer as he drove into her again and again and again until…

Espy screamed out his name as a blinding climax gripped her, shooting intense waves of pleasure through every part of her so much so that she thought she would surely die from the intense pleasure.

Craven threw back his head and groaned through gritted teeth as his climax slammed into him with such force that it momentarily weakened him and he thought he would collapse on top of her. But the beast would never allow his strength to fail him, and he remained hovering over her.

Espy released a satisfied sigh when the last of her pleasure faded away.

Only then did Craven lower himself down on her. He slipped an arm around her waist and brought her to rest against his side as he rolled over to lie on his back.

Espy was glad for his support, for all her limbs were far too weak to do anything on her own. Besides, she was where she wanted to be… tucked safely in her husband’s powerful arms.

“Our vows are sealed. They can never be broken,” Craven reminded her.

“Then you best be sure to keep me satisfied, husband,” Espy said with a soft laugh, looking up at him. She was pleased to see a smile spread across his face.

“I believe I am up to the challenge.”

“We will see about that,” she said, with a playful poke to his chest.

His smile faded. “I will be a good husband to you, Espy. I can promise you that.”

“I never doubted that,” she said and ran her finger faintly over his lips. “I will love you no matter what.” Her finger to his lips stilled whatever he intended to say. “Let it be, for nothing will change how I feel.”

He remained silent, wishing he could find it in him to love her, but there was Aubrey. There would always be Aubrey, though he had not thought of her once while coupling with Espy. Still, he had pledged his love to Aubrey and his heart had died with her. He had nothing left to give Espy. He cared for her and would be a good husband as he told her, but there was no love left in him to give.

Espy stretched against him and gave a small groan.

“You have pain?” Craven asked worried he may have hurt her.

“A bit sore, nothing more,” she assured him. “I will see to it on the morrow.”

“I will not touch you again until you tell me you have healed.”

Espy’s brow shot up as she tipped her head back to glare at him. “You mean this one time is all we will make love tonight?”

“You are sore,” he said as if it was explanation itself.

“Barely,” she countered as though it made no difference.

“We wait,” he commanded and snagged the blanket with his foot to yank up so that he could grab it and pull it over them.

Espy told herself he was being considerate of her and that she should be grateful she had a husband who was so thoughtful. She had seen for herself the women who had suffered at the hands of husbands who were not thoughtful of their wives when it came to coupling. She was lucky or perhaps blessed that she found making love with Craven so enjoyable. Even though he claimed he had no love left to give, his gentle and loving touch told her differently.

While there were still problems to face, at least now she had the protection of a husband and that made her feel safer than she had in a long while. She would have never thought of becoming Craven’s wife, but then she would have never believed that she could have fallen in love with him either.

Her da often had said that life was strange. You never know what to expect from it. She had to agree. Life was strange, for never had she thought of becoming wife to the man who had nearly choked her to death and now held her lovingly in his arms.

Craven felt when his wife fell asleep. Her body seemed to melt against him and her breathing turned shallow. He lay awake unable to sleep, his thoughts keeping him busy. He had never thought he would bring another woman to his bed.

It disturbed and also relieved him that Aubrey was fading from his memory. Not that she would ever fade completely, but she no longer constantly haunted his thoughts… Espy did. Guilt poked at him and yet he was glad Espy rested beside him, tucked in his arms. He was even more relieved she was his wife. He could protect her that way, though if he was honest it was not the only reason he had wed her.

He could not stand the thought of her being with anyone but him. He could not reason why that had plagued him, but it did, and he could not ignore it. Though, he had given her a chance to remain his wife in name only, especially since she had claimed to love him. It was not fair to her that he could not return that love. Though, she believed her love was strong enough for them both, he believed otherwise. No love was that strong.

She was his now and there would be no changing that. The thought settled him and he soon drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Espy slipped out of the bedchamber, closing the door quietly behind her. Her husband slept soundly and she hoped he would continue to do so for some time yet. The sun had yet to come up, but it would not be long before it did. Her feet flew quickly down the stone stairs and she maneuvered the hall with equal haste, her skirt brushing the stone wall as she rushed through the silent keep straight through to the kitchen. She had to be quick to avoid the workers that would soon arrive to get the hearth fires going for the morning repast. She gathered what food she could find, some bread, though it was not fresh, it could be softened in a brew, a good-size piece of cheese, and what was left of the salted fish. That should keep Adara fed for a day or two.

Once everything was wrapped neatly in a cloth, Espy hurried as quietly as she could to the stable. Trumble pawed the ground and snorted, happy to see her, and the two were soon off, riding with great care through the dark.

Espy squinted her eyes as she drew near the cottage. She had not expected to see Adara standing in front of the crooked front door as if she had been expecting her. A soft smile was the only greeting Espy got from her, but it warmed her heart. Adara rarely smiled and barely spoke. It was as if she feared doing either. That if she did she would somehow suffer for it, so she chose to be silent more often than not.

“I brought you food and leaves to brew,” Espy said and Adara nodded her thanks and pointed to the sky. The first ray of dawn was just sparking. Adara realized without being told that Espy had snuck out before the castle grounds stirred to life and had to return before anyone found her gone.

Adara shooed her off with her hand after taking the bundle of food from Espy. She shook her head when Espy went to speak and shooed her once again, this time toward Trumble.

“I will return,” Espy assured her and a twinge of regret squeezed at her heart having to leave Adara alone, but she had no choice. She reached out to rest a comforting hand on Adara’s shoulder and stopped when she cringed and backed away from her. Espy had forgotten that Adara was not used to a comforting touch, she had known only harshness.

Espy wanted to tell her that she was safe, but she recalled Adara’s words.

Never safe.

She said the one thing that Adara could count on. “I will be back.”

Adara clutched the cloth bundle to her chest and nodded.

Espy had always loved sunrises and there had been a time she had taken care to watch the sun unfurl its nourishing light, but this morning she wished the sun would slow its ascent. She did not want anyone up and about to see her return, most of all her husband.

Trumble was quick, having sensed her own urgency and she was soon leading him into the stables, grateful Leith had not arrived to see to the horses yet. However, she took cautious steps upon entering the stable, worried that Craven could once again be lying in wait for her. When she made certain no one was about, she took care of Trumble with haste and settled him comfortably in his stall, the unexpected morning ride having pleased him.

The sun had fully risen, bright and strong, by the time she entered the keep and luckily no servants were in the Great Hall as she hurried through it. If her luck held, her husband would still be asleep and she could simply join him in bed and he would be none the wiser. She shook her head. He would know. He would smell the scents of the forest upon her, pungent pine and earth, and possibly the sharp scent of the stable. She would tell him at least a partial truth… she went for a ride.

With explanation in hand, she grabbed the latch to the bedchamber door just as Craven did the same to the handle on the opposite side and gave the door a powerful yank.

Espy flew in, stumbling as the latch was ripped from her hand, and she fell right into her husband’s arms.

“Where were you?” he demanded, his arm closing tightly around her middle to swing her away from the door as he closed it.

“I went for a ride,” she said, the excuse sounding paltry to her own ears.

“Without my permission?”

“I did not think I needed it now that I was your wife.” That was the truth and she hoped that she was right. She was too accustomed to her freedom to give it up.

“Now more than ever you need it. I will know where my wife is at all times. You will never ride off on your own again,” he ordered. “Not ever, and certainly not when Warrick’s warriors may still be in the area.”

“Do not take my freedom from me,” Espy said, not having considered the burdens of having a husband.

He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. “Was freedom so tasty this past year that you would prefer it to a husband?”

“It was survival, not freedom and a bitter taste it was,” Espy admitted, her body relaxing against his, letting not only him know but herself that she preferred being there with him.

“You are my wife, not my prisoner—but,” Craven said, his voice taking on a commanding tone and his arm around her waist hugging her more tightly, “I will know your whereabouts at all times.”

“Why?” Espy asked as if his command made no sense.

“I owe you no reason,” he said surprised she would ask.

“We are husband and wife,” she said, expecting that to be reason enough.

“Out of necessity,” Craven reminded, his tongue sharper than intended.

“I see that the beast rose this morning.” She patted his chest, stepped out of his arms, and settled a strong smile on him. “Be careful, my dear husband, for there is a beast in all of us.”