Philippa shrieked, more with surprise than pain. His manhood filled her full. She had never imagined such a feeling. He was moving in her now, his mumbled words attempting to soothe her, his own passions rising to obscure his reason. Suddenly she relaxed, and gave herself over to his desire. She didn’t know what had prompted her to let go of control over herself, but she did. And when she did, her eyes closing, her entire being was suffused with a pleasure such as she had never known. His grip on her had loosened, and unable to help herself she began to caress the big lanky body laboring over her.
“Wrap your legs about me, little one!” He grated out the order in harsh tones.
Philippa obeyed, and felt him driving deeper into her body. She cried out softly with surprise. “Ohhh, Crispin!” she sighed, and she wondered what in the name of all the saints had she ever been fearful of? This was heaven on earth! This was divine! And this was how children were created? She sighed again, and then felt a shuddering beginning from deep within her. It rose up, enveloping her fiercely, and she cried out in fear at this new sensation, but then the warmth swept over her. She felt a rush of hot fluid filling her love sheath, and the earl gave a great groan that was half pleasure and half relief. Then he rolled away from her, but as he did he pulled her into his embrace, kissing her face, her lips, her eyes.
“Little one, little one,” he finally managed to say to her. “I thank you for the gift of your innocence, and the pleasure that you gave me. I can only hope I gave you some pleasure as well, though I think I did.”
“I forgot to pray, my lord,” Philippa said. “I could think of nothing, it seems, when you were making love to me. I think I will not ever tell the queen of my lapse.”
The earl of Witton burst out laughing. “Madame, I forbid you to ever pray while I labor over you. Passion is for pleasure, not piety. God help the poor queen who has never known that.”
“You hurt me in the beginning,” she said.
“The breaking of the maidenhead is said to hurt, I am told,” he replied. “Did no one tell you that? But then they would not have, for fear of frightening you.”
“But after, it was wonderful. I seemed to be on another plane. I flew, my lord, I will vow that I flew!” she said. “How often will we couple like that?”
“Whenever desire overtakes us, little one,” he promised her, “but for now I would have us sleep. Tomorrow we start for Brierewode, and in a few weeks we must depart for France. I want you to see your new home before we do. It has been a long day, Philippa. You must rest now. I will be by your side to keep you safe. I do not believe in the nonsense some practice of a husband and wife sleeping in different chambers, and only coming together for the pleasure. From this night on I shall sleep by your side.”
“I am glad,” she told him. “My parents always shared a bed, and mama and my stepfather do as well. I am not unhappy with your decision, my lord.”
She drew the down coverlet up to cover them both. There seemed no point to getting out of bed to fetch their chemises. She tucked the coverlet about his shoulders, and he was charmed by this sweet sign of her nurturing nature. He was beginning to suspect that he had made a good bargain with Lord Cambridge, and he also suspected that Thomas Bolton had known it. He drew Philippa closer, and she laid her auburn head on his shoulder. They slept.
In the early dawn the earl of Witton awoke. His bride was still cuddled next to him. He studied her carefully, realizing that she was quite a pretty creature. Her skin was very fair, and her auburn hair had golden lights in it, unlike her sister Banon, whose tresses were a deeper auburn in color. Just looking at her aroused him, and he was surprised by it, but then of course she was a new sensation for him. Nay, that was not it. He had never been so roused by any woman. He ran a gentle hand down the curve of her body as she lay on her side by him.
Philippa opened her eyes, startled, and then she remembered where she was. Her eyes met his, and she blushed at the intimacy that surrounded them. She was not used to it, but she supposed in time she would be. She gave him a small smile. He said nothing, pushing her onto her back and mounting her. For some reason it seemed right, and she was to her surprise eager for them to couple again. She slid her arms about him, drawing him down into an embrace as he pushed himself slowly into her eager body. “Ahh, that is good,” she told him softly.
“Tell me what it feels like when I am inside of you,” he said low.
“It is difficult to explain,” she began. “I find I already enjoy the feel of you as you enter my love channel. You fill me, and I feel myself wanting to draw you in further. I want to enclose my flesh about your manhood. I never want to let it go. I lose my identity as we become one, my lord.”
“I feel powerful when our bodies are joined,” he admitted to her. “I am the aggressor, and yet somehow you control me, Philippa. Ah, little one, to be inside you I find unbearably sweet,” he said. And then he began to kiss her mouth.
He kissed her until Philippa’s head was spinning. The sensation of his lips on her, his manhood inside her, was almost too incredible to bear. He filled her and his member throbbed, beating against the walls of her love channel until she was moaning with her eagerness to be totally possessed. “Do it!” she begged him. “Do it, and do not stop!”
He moved slowly within her, increasing his tempo and rhythm until Philippa’s head was thrashing wildly on the pillows. The sight of her desire for him was almost unbearable. He thrust harder and deeper until she began to scream softly with her pleasure.
Philippa wrapped her legs about him, allowing him deeper access. It was incredible, and she now understood her mother better, she thought, than she ever had before. Her head was spinning, and yet she still managed some control over herself as the pleasure began to burgeon and grow until she knew she was going to die, and she didn’t care. Only the desire counted for anything. Her body began to shake from the inside out. She was dying! “Crispin!” she cried his name. “Crispin!” And then her consciousness was sucked down into a whirling dark vortex of heated pleasures.
He heard her crying his name as she clung to him, but he could only concentrate on the emotions battering him. He could feel himself swelling and growing within her until it was almost unbearable and painful. But then suddenly his member released its hot tribute in spurt after spurt after spurt of his love juices. For a moment he thought that his juices would never stop coming. Would his young bride always have this wickedly lustful effect upon him? God’s boots, he hoped so, even if in the end it killed him!
They slept again, this time exhausted, sprawled upon the bed, their limbs intertwined, leg with leg. And when they finally awoke the sun was just coming up. Outside in the gardens the birds were singing a May song.
Philippa had awakened first this time. She extricated herself carefully from the tangle of their limbs, her eyes studying her husband, blushing at the memories of their recent passion. He had such a strong and vibrant body. Her gaze went to his manhood, and she was amazed to find it limp, and surprisingly small now considering its earlier state.
“You have only worn it out for now, but it will recover,” she heard him say. His eyes remained closed, however.
“Oh!” She blushed at being caught in her perusal. “I have never seen a man’s body until now,” she weakly explained to him.
He chuckled, and now the gray eyes slowly opened. “I hope it is all that you expected,” he said.
“I didn’t know quite what to expect, my lord, but I cannot say that I am disappointed in what I have found,” Philippa told him.
“Another night I will teach you to fondle it, for it enjoys the touch of a woman’s hand, little one, but for now we must arise, although I am tempted to stay abed when I see those adorable little breasts of yours so prettily displayed.”
She drew the coverlet up to cover herself, mischievously sticking her tongue out at him. “I have removed the temptation, my lord,” she told him.
He grinned. “Only my desire to take you to Brierewode before we leave for France prevents me from spending the day here in bed with you, madame,” he explained. “You have proven a most satisfactory armful, Philippa, my lady countess of Witton.”
