“A maid,” he muttered. “Aye, you will have need of one. Would this Edna wish to join our household?”
“I cannot see why not. She has neither kin nor lover here to hold her back. ’Tis very bright,” she squeaked when he started to tug aside her covers.
Thayer preferred it bright but knew it was best to cater to her modesty for now. He rose to douse all the lights save for two candles by the bed. As he returned to bed he smiled crookedly at the wide-eyed look upon her face. Inwardly he shrugged. They were married. She would have to get accustomed to his looks. There was nothing he could do to improve them.
Despite the heat of her blushes, Gytha watched Thayer. She knew her opinion was biased, but she found him lovely. The bright hair and battle scars did not repulse her. Her gaze lingered on broad shoulders, a trim waist, slim hips and long, muscular legs. He had a lean, strong body which held an animal’s grace. He was also fully aroused. She could not stop herself from wondering if her small frame could accommodate him. Despite her efforts not to, she eyed him a little fearfully when he rejoined her. Reluctantly, she eased her hold on her cover as he reached for it.
Seeing her fear, Thayer ached to vanquish it, yet felt his need would be hard to control. That feeling was confirmed when he threw back the covers to view his new bride in the faint candlelight. A flush of modesty tinted her creamy skin, and she fluttered her hands in an attempt to cover herself. Gently, but firmly, he grasped her by the wrists and held her hands to her sides, his gaze roaming freely over her delicate beauty.
The rosy tips of her full, high breasts hardened beneath his gaze. He judged her waist small enough to be encircled by his hands. Her gently curved hips tapered into slim, well-formed legs that looked long despite her lack of height. His gaze briefly rested upon the nest of golden curls at the juncture of her lovely thighs. Drawing a shaking breath, he lifted his gaze back to her face.
“Ah, Gytha, my wife, you are indeed beautiful,” he murmured in a thick voice, then bent his head to kiss her.
She quickly slipped her arms around his neck and parted her lips for him with no hesitation. When he partially covered her body with his, she shuddered. The feel of their flesh meeting sent shivers through her from head to toe.
Slowly, he began to move his hands over her lithe curves as she lay in his arms. She began to feel drugged by his kisses. A soft noise akin to a purr escaped her when he slipped his hand over her breast. His calloused palm and long fingers teased her nipple until it ached. It felt as if liquid fire was being poured through her veins. When his mouth left hers, she gave a soft cry of protest, which changed swiftly to a cry of delight as his warm lips touched the frantic pulse point at her throat, caressing the life-giving vein with his tongue.
Feeling her tremble as he traced her collarbone with kisses, he said, “I will be gentle with you. Trust me, Gytha.”
“I do,” she whispered, her voice as husky as his.
Glancing up at her, he could read no guile in her look. “Then why do you tremble with fear, little one?”
“’Tis not fear.” It was hard to speak when he still fondled her breasts, his touch stealing all clear thought from her mind. “I am not really sure what ails me.”
“What do you feel, sweeting?” He slowly moved his hand over her abdomen feeling her shudder faintly beneath his touch.
“Afire. ’Tis as if my blood runs hot. That does afright me some.”
Choked with elation that his touch could affect her so, he found it hard to speak, and his voice became little more than a raspy whisper. “There is naught to fear in that.”
“I do not wish to fail you. Ah, Thayer.” She clenched her hands in his thick bright hair when he flicked his tongue over the tip of her breast.
“You will not fail me, dearling. B’Gad, how could you?” he murmured before covering her hard, pink nipple with his mouth.
She squirmed beneath him as he lathed and suckled her full, taut breasts. What fear she did have was soon swamped by passion. Shyly at first, she moved her hands over his broad back and strong arms. The feel of his warm, smooth skin stretched tautly over hard muscle added to her rising desire.
The way he caressed her thighs produced a strange heaviness in her legs. Her passion was checked slightly when he touched the curls that lay between them. She jerked away from his touch. Her eyes wide with shock, she met his gaze.
“Hush, love.” He brushed kisses over her face, soothing her. “Open for me, sweeting, give me your secrets.”
Gytha found she had no choice. Her body ruled her. He trailed hot, moist kisses from her lips to her breasts and back again. The intimate stroking of his hand restoked the inner fire her modesty had briefly tamped down. The caresses she gave him grew somewhat frantic. She was so caught up in the sensations conquering her body that she was hardly aware of his shift in position. When she felt the solid proof of his arousal press against her, she moaned, rubbing her body against his in mindless urgency. It was not until he began to ease into her that any further check occurred in her passion. The tension of anticipation crept over her.
Thayer grasped her slim hips to hold her steady. Deciding a pain was easiest to endure when it came quickly, he possessed her with all the speed he could. He winced when she softly cried out. He met the barrier of her innocence and ploughed through it. Trembling with the effort, he kept still, holding her close as he tried to restir her desires.
Lying still, Gytha stared up at him. His eyes were nearly black. Something had tautened the lines of his face and he looked slightly flushed. The brief, sharp pain he had inflicted was a fleeting one. She grew fiercely aware of how their bodies were joined, of how they were now one. The strange heat he could invoke was again racing through her, resurrected by his feverish yet gentle kisses.
“I feared you would not fit,” she blurted out in an unsteady voice, then blinked in surprise at her own outspokenness.
Tracing the delicate lines of her ear with his tongue, he laughed softly. “Aye, I fit. And a sweet haven it is. Wrap your pretty legs around me, sweeting.”
“Like so?” She firmly encircled his hips with her strong legs.
“Aye.” He moved slowly within her and heard her gasp. “Did I pain you?”
“Nay.” She clutched at his shoulders as pleasure forced her to close her eyes.
Resting on his forearms, he watched her as he fought to maintain a slow, gentle rhythm. “Parry my thrust, dearling. Aye, aye.”
