“Here.” She giggled. “In the tub. If you do not get your clothing off soon, my lord, the water will cool. I canhardly bathe you with my own little hands if I am not here in the tub with you. Did you not think of that?”
It was all the encouragement he needed. He tore his clothing off, his boots, flinging them carelessly aside.
Then, walking to the tall oak tub, he climbed the steps and climbed into it, coming face-to-face with his wife as he did so.
“There,” she purred at him. “Isn’t this nice, my lord?”
And taking up a sea sponge filled with soap, she began to wash him. When her hands moved to his genitals she smiled a wicked little smile, for his love rod was already hard with his lust for her. “Just a moment more, my lord.
Your hair will need attending to before you may enter my bed.” She quickly scrubbed his dark locks, and he grumbled that she was even worse than Elsbeth. Laughing, Adair rinsed his hair with the two pitchers of clean water on the shelf of the tub’s wide rim. Then, while he was attempting to get the water from his eyes, she climbed from the tub. “Come along, my lord; do not dally,” she said.
Able to see once again, he looked about for her.
“Where have you gotten to now, lovey?” he wanted to know.
“I am here waiting to dry you,” she murmured seductively.
He exited their tub, and his lust for her was most visible. “Not yet,” he growled, and, grabbing her, he backed her against the tall wooden tub. “First, wife, you will take the edge off of my lust. Put your arms about my neck.” And as she did so his two big hands cupped her buttocks and raised her up.
Adair squealed with surprise, but she instinctively opened her legs to wrap them about his torso as he thrust eagerly into her body. He was so hard, and she gasped with pleasure as he pumped into her with a fierce, quick rhythm. “Oh, God, Andrew!” Her own passions rose to flood her entire being. “Don’t stop. If you stop I will kill you!”
He laughed low. “This is but the beginning, Adair. I have missed you more than I was even willing to admit to myself.” His loins banged again and again against her.
“I mean to do this with you most of the night long.” His lips found hers in a burning kiss.
She almost devoured his mouth. Their tongues fought a pitched battle until her head was spinning and Adair felt entirely out of control of her own body. She moaned deep in her throat, every sense heightened as their wet bodies rubbed and pressed against each other. And then there was no holding her desires in any kind of check.
She threw back her head and screamed as a mutual satisfaction overwhelmed them both. Together they collapsed onto the stone floor of the bathing chamber, their combined breaths coming in sharp, quick pants that slowly, slowly grew quieter.
He found his voice first. “I am sated for a few minutes,” he said with humor.
Adair laughed weakly. “May I dry you now, my lord?”
she inquired of him mischievously. “That is, if I can make my legs stand up.”
He struggled to his feet first, and then drew her up beside him. “Attend me, wife,” he told her, holding her up.
For a moment she clung to him, but then as the strength seeped back into her body Adair took up a small wet cloth and bathed his manhood, then dried it.
Next she lifted a large cloth from its rack before the small hearth and dried him carefully. When she had finished she said, “Go and get into bed, Andrew. I don’t want you catching the ague. I will join you when I have attended to myself.” She gave him a quick kiss upon his lips and a gentle shove toward the door to her bedchamber. And when she had washed her own sex, she dried herself before hurrying to join him.
He lay upon their bed, his manhood gracefully limp upon his muscled thigh. When he held out his arms Adair ran to join him. There were no words spoken between them for some time. None were really necessary.
They lay together, leisurely exploring each other’s body, to their mutual pleasure. His absence had changed something between them, Adair realized. Their marriage, begun a few months ago for practical reasons, had blossomed into love. Perhaps, she thought, it was not the wild passion shared between the new king and his queen, but a different, special love between Andrew and her.
She ran a finger down his chest and, leaning over him, kissed him. “I believe I can say with all honesty that I missed you too, husband.”
“Did I say I missed you?” he teased. “A moment of weakness, lovey.”
“Villain!” She yanked at his mop of dark hair.
“Vixen!” He pulled her back into his arms, kissing her soundly. And with each moment their desire for each other rose once more. Andrew buried his face in her scented hair. “God help me, Adair, I have never wanted any woman the way I want you!” He put her beneath him, and his mouth began to both taste and explore her sweet flesh. His lips closed over each of her nipples in turn, licking, suckling, and then he was nipping with his teeth at the tender buds. Then his kisses moved over her torso with a gentle lust.
Adair’s fingers kneaded his shoulders and back. His lovemaking was setting her afire with longing. When finally he slipped his manhood into her well-prepared lover’s sheath she sighed deeply, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to be surrounded with the pure sensation of his now-frenzied passion. She soared and flew as the hunger between them grew until it exploded in a fiery burst that left them both gasping for air. And true to his word, Andrew made love to Adair several times that night until, sated herself, she cautioned him that they would need to sleep if they were to perform their duties on the morrow. Then she slept, content with the life she now had, confident in the days that stretchedahead. There would be a child eventually. How could a child not come from the love that now bloomed between them?
In the autumn there came word from Adair’s half sister, Elizabeth, still in sanctuary, that there had been some small risings against King Richard in Dorset, Devon, and Kent.But naught has come of it, and Mama is quitedisappointed,Bess wrote.She schemes without ceasing,and a match has almost been settled now between me andLady Margaret’s son, Henry of Lancaster, although whatgood it will do I cannot say, for if I leave Westminster,Uncle Dickon will surely seize me, and in his custody Iwill not be allowed to wed the heir to Lancaster.
“Poor Bess,” Adair said as she put aside the letter.
