He grinned at her. “And after all those months away from you, Maybel, I’m ready to prove my heart is yours once again tonight, as I have proven every night since you got home.” Then he kissed her.
Chapter 10
He slowly opened the door of their bedchamber and stepped into the room, almost jumping as the door clicked loudly behind him. The draperies were drawn over the leaded paned windows. At one end of the chamber a large fireplace blazed brightly, warming the place. The room was nicely furnished with sturdy oak furniture, but it was the large draped bed that caught his immediate attention. The curtains about the bed were almost completely drawn.
“Owein?” Her voice sounded young and small.
“Aye, ’tis me, Rosamund,” he answered her, coming around the bed to where the hangings opened slightly to give him a glimpse of his bride sitting straight up against the pillows, clutching the coverlet to her chest. Her hair was loose about her bare shoulders.
“Come into the bed,” she invited him, her voice a bit stronger now.
“Are you so impatient, then?” he teased her as he began to disrobe.
“Aren’t you?” she countered mischievously.
He laughed. “You are a bold wench for a virgin.” He pulled his garments off as quickly as he might without seeming overeager, although the truth was that he was more than anxious to join her in their bed. His back was to her as he undressed.
“Oh, you have a fine rounded bottom,” she said wickedly as he pulled his sherte off, “but such hairy legs, sir. Is the rest of you so wooly? You are like one of my fine sheep.”
He turned. “I shall be the ram to your sweet little ewe sheep,” he said. He was fully naked now.
“Oh, my!”Rosamund said upon viewing her first unclothed man. Her amber eyes carefully examined him, taking in his wide shoulders, the broad chest with its mat of golden fur, his long legs, his—“Oh, my!”she repeated as her eyes encountered the first manhood she had ever beheld. “That is your...” Her voice trailed off, but her gaze was fascinated, curious.
“Aye, that is the object of your downfall, lovely,” he told her. “Now move over, lass. I am freezing out here despite the fire. Can you not hear the rain against the windows? ’Tis August, yet the autumn is already coming.”
She flung back the down coverlet and slid over, inviting him to join her as she did. “How do you use it?” she asked naively.
He put his arm about her as they sat together in their bed. “It will grow larger as my desire for you grows,” he explained. He began to fondle her small rounded breasts.
She turned her head to look up at him. “And then?” His hands on her flesh were exciting.
He bent, kissing her softly. “Let us not get ahead of ourselves, lovey,” he told her. “I promise I shall explain as we go along.” His thumb began to rub a nipple, and he drew her deeper into his embrace, lowering her back against the pillows. “A woman’s breasts are very enticing,” he told her as he lowered his head to kiss the rounded flesh.
His lips were warm against her skin. Rosamund’s heart began to beat quickly within her chest. She murmured softly as he licked first one nipple and then the other. The velvet of his tongue sent a tingle through her. Then his mouth closed over a nipple, and he began to suckle upon her.“Ohhh!”The gasp of surprise escaped her.
He raised his dark blond head, and his eyes were almost glazed with something she did not understand. “Ohhhgood? Or is it distasteful to you?” he asked her softly.
“No! No! It is good!” she assured him.
He lowered his head once more, this time moving to her other breast. His mouth pulled strongly upon the sentient nub of flesh. And after a brief time his teeth grazed the nipple gently.
“Oh, yes!”Rosamund said as ripples of new pleasure began to wash over her. The teeth were sharp, but not hurtful. She found his actions very thrilling. He moved to suck upon her other breast, and Rosamund sighed. His sensuous actions were sending ripples of shivers down her spine. It was pleasurable and exhilarating, she decided.
She had a fragrance about her, he considered as he nuzzled her. She smelled of heather. It was the perfect scent for her, he thought. He began to kiss her sweet warm flesh, his lips moving from her breasts down her torso to her belly. He was surprised to find that he could feel her pulses jumping nervously beneath his mouth. He stopped at her navel, not certain how far he might proceed, but realizing once again that she was young and untried.
He lay his dark blond head upon her belly, and his fingers stroked her thigh. How did a man make love to a wife? He asked himself once more. If she had been older, more knowledgeable,a whore,he would have been surer of himself. But she was not. And therein lay his dilemma.
Why had he stopped? Rosamund wondered. Was something wrong? Had she done something she should not have done? “What is the matter, Owein?” she asked him softly. “Have I displeased you in my ignorance?”
Her voice. The innocent question she asked brought him back to reality. “I am not certain how to proceed with you,” he told her candidly. “I have never made love to a virgin, or to a wife, Rosamund.”
“Whom have you made love to then, sir?” she queried, genuinely curious, and perhaps even a bit jealous.
“Women of the court seek diversion... courtesans and whores,” he admitted. “You are so different, lovey. You are clean and sweet. You are my wife.”
“Do not all women have the same desires and lustful longings, Owein?” she wondered aloud.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I have spent my life in loyal and royal service, Rosamund. My couplings have been mostly hurried, and for the sole purpose of pleasure. You, however, are my wife. Our couplings are meant to produce children of our loins and our blood, not for sport or amusement.”
