Melissande was not weak like his mother.
She was a queen, a lady, and his wife.
Quinn would love her until the end of his days, and beyond.
“Come to bed, sir,” she said with new urgency and he feared he had only imagined the words.She smiled at him and his chest squeezed with painful vigor.“We have a son to conceive.”
Quinn grinned at her invitation, catching her in his arms and swinging her around.Melissande protested, but when he set her on her feet, he caught her close and kissed her with abandon.He finally broke their kiss, his arm locked still around her waist, holding her captive against his chest.
“Tell me now if you still have your courses,” he growled and Melissande smiled up at him, her expression so playful that he guessed what she would say before she did.
“I never did,” she admitted.“I was merely vexed with you.”
Quinn laughed again and scooped her into his arms, then stole another kiss.“I will make you a wager, my Melissande,” he said as he carried her toward the bed.“Whenever one of us is vexed with the other, I suggest we spend that passion abed.”
She gasped.“That is a scandalous suggestion, sir.”
“But one with appeal?”
Her eyes twinkled so merrily that Quinn dared to believe in their shared future.She flushed a little and smiled at him.“Indeed, sir.Though I fear you may start an argument apurpose in future.”
“Nay,” he said solemnly.“’Twill be you who do as much.”She gasped again in mock outrage, then laughed.Quinn kissed her soundly, the time for words being well past.
Her husband was a sorcerer.
Or perhaps he was an elixir that once sampled, left a woman desperate for more.
Either way, Quinn kindled a need within Melissande, satisfied it, yet could readily make her yearn for his touch again.It was the reverence in his expression and his caress, as if he feared she might fade to naught before his very eyes.He was so gentle, despite his strength.The fact that he tempered himself in order to give her pleasure was a concession that fed her own confidence in this deed.
Indeed, their coupling was more pleasurable each and every time.
She indulged her impulses this time and surrendered completely to their lovemaking.She felt his surprise when she took the lead, but could not mistake his approval.How could their passion be more potent each time?It was a puzzle she could not explain, but Melissande did not care.
She wanted Quinn.
She did not mind that he knew the truth of it.
She met him touch for touch, demanding more and more, and they exhausted each other in their quest for pleasure.The culmination was a marvel beyond marvels and she collapsed atop him in the bed, wondering how many had heard their triumphant cries.
“I have a confession to make,” Quinn said when they were entangled together and sated.
“Not another,” Melissande teased and he chuckled.
He lifted a tendril of her hair and twisted it between finger and thumb, then wound it around his fingertip.“I like what you teach me,” he said.
Melissande rolled to lie atop him.“It seems that in matters abed, you teach me, sir.”
“Nay, it is not so simple as that, but that is not what I meant.”
“What then?”
“I thought of your inventories.”
“Which is why you brought fish and wine.That was most welcome.How many more comrades do you expect to arrive at our gates?”
“None.For there is only one more and he is said to be wed.”Quinn lifted a finger.“But when Tulley insisted that Sayerne fields should be tilled this year, I thought of my practical wife and her ledgers.”
“And you negotiated.”She smiled as she watched him, liking his pride in his accomplishment.He should be proud to have won a concession from Tulley.
