“Do that again,” she ordered. He was obviously bedding the imperious Lady Anice.
“Aye, my... Anice,” he groaned out as she worked withhim and made the movements exquisite torture to him.
He was not certain, after another slide, whether he or she controlled it, but he gave himself over to the throbbing pleasure. He could feel his sac tighten and his peak approaching so he slipped his finger within her folds once more and found the little bud he knew would help her reach hers. Using the wetness that poured from her, he moistened it and then gently tugged on it. From her frantic movements, he knew she was close. He held off as long as he could until his body refused to obey and his seed gushed forward into her. He pulsed and throbbed inside her as her inner walls answered with their own waves of pleasure. Now her head dropped back and a moan resonant with sexual fulfillment echoed through their chamber.
She collapsed on his chest and soon only their labored breathing could be heard. He felt his cock slip from her body after a few minutes and he waited for her to say something. Her hair flowed over him as he once dreamed it would and he drifted off to sleep, completely contented for the first time in a very long time.
31
She felt the heat of the hearth on her legs and bottom, but could not figure out where she was. The front of her felt just as warm in spite of the fact that she was not covered in her bed. Anice opened her eyes and realized where she lay— on top of her sleeping husband. Memories of their joining flooded back to her and she rubbed her cheek against his skin remembering the heat and pleasure of it. When she tried to lift her head to look at him, she found his hands entangled in her hair. Her movements must have awakened him, for he shifted beneath her and loosened his grip on her hair.
“My pardon,” he whispered in a gravelly voice. “I only wanted to touch it.”
She pushed herself up on him and found the embarrassing fact that her bottom half was naked against his and her gown, soaked with milk, now grew cold in the chilly air of the room. Her nipples contracted and she gasped as his hardness grew under her once more. Anice looked at his face and found him staring at her breasts.
Struggling to get off of him, she kept doing all the wrong things and ended up losing her balance and falling on him. She felt the rumble of his laughter in his chest and then his hands were on her hips, lifting her off. With a quick turn to his side, she found herself sitting on the floor next to him. She let her gaze wander over him and she could not help but stare when she saw that his body was ready for another joining.
“Does it stay that way all the time?” She pointed and watched his hardness move under her gaze.
“Aye, Anice,” he said, laughing and drawing the plaid over it. “It haes been that way for weeks and weeks.”
“Is it painful?” He grunted at her. “Yer pardon, Robert. I just thought that it looked... uncomfortable.”
“Aye,” he said on a groan. “’Tis painful and I would rather if we dinna speak of it right now.”
He pulled a layer of plaid around his waist and climbed to his feet. Once he gained them, he reached down to help her. The nightgown clung to her now and she needed to get it off and dry herself. She looked at his chest and noticed he was wet with it as well.
“I could not stop it. When I... er... we did that, the milk gushed out, too.”
She went to one of the trunks and found what she was looking for. With a fresh gown in one hand and a length of toweling in the other, she walked back to him. With a few quick strokes she dried him off. Then walking to the far corner of the room where the light did not reach, she peeled off her gown, dried her breasts and stomach, and dressed again. Anice turned quickly at his gasp. Apparently the light exposed more than she thought. Her gaze went to the bulge clearly visible beneath the hastily wrapped plaid.
“Anice, ye must stop looking at it,” he moaned, readjusting the covering.
“Looking at your...”—she pointed at it when she could not say the word—”does that?”
He leaned his head back and growled out his reply. “I am trying no’ to think about it. Mayhap it will relax.”
She was so intrigued by his body and by everything that had happened between them and she had so many questions to ask that she simply went on. “You cannot be serious that simply speaking about joining will keep that ready?” She pointed once more and watched the bulge move against the plaid he wore.
“Words are powerful, Anice. I will show ye how to use them, but no’ now.”
She felt the heat of embarrassment fill her cheeks. Her curiosity was unseemly and it obviously made him uncomfortable. She turned away and walked over to the pile of blankets in front of the hearth, intending to straighten them. Then she realized that things had changed between them. Orhad they?
“Where will you sleep?”
He let out a breath and took a step closer to her. “Wherever ye say, Anice. There or in yer bed, ’tis up to ye.”
She looked from one to the other place and did not know what to say to him. She wanted to touch him, but could she stand to have him close through the whole night? Would his shaft stay like that until she woke to find him pushing his way inside her? A shiver moved down her spine and some fleeting glimpse of Sandy’s face entered her thoughts. Realizing what was happening, she looked at Robert and focused on his face.
“’Twill take more than just this one time to get over yer fears, Anice. There or there”—he pointed at both places—”it makes no difference to me.”
She did not answer; she could not find the words to say to him. They were husband and wife now and she did not want to refuse him, but she was not certain she could stop the terrors from visiting while she slept if his body was so near hers.
“That settles it then, ’tis the floor.” She would have objected or argued, she wanted to; however, she knew he could see her hesitation. “Dinna fash yerself, Anice. ’Twill take some time for us to adjust to this. I am willing to wait—so long as ye promise to visit me there when the mood strikes ye again?” He offered her a smile as he passed her. She could see he struggled to be kind.
Her love for him filled her heart. In every situation when he had a choice to make, he put her first. Torn by the love inside her and the long-standing fears that still fought for control, she could do nothing but return his smile and climb into her bed. Her empty cold bed. She pulled the covers over her and listened as he settled onto the floor.
“It did not hurt,” she said to no one in particular. First, she heard the exhalation of his breath. Then he spoke.
