“I know. I know ’tis the way of the world. I can learn to bear with it. I know I must. In truth, I learned it long ago, for my father and brothers have often ridden off to battle. But to sense how you will fare each time? Nay, that I pray I will not suffer.”
“Mayhap you sensed the attack came from Robert, from his wish to murder me,” he murmured.
“I do not truly think Robert wants to murder you. His uncle…”
“They are one and the same.”
“Aye. Mayhap I did sense it. I did hold a few doubts that your warning would be enough. When the attack came, it may have confirmed those doubts I thought I had shrugged aside.” She briefly pressed her lips against his chest. “I have no wish to be a widow,” she whispered.
“I have no wish to make you one.”
A weak laugh escaped her. It was a perfect time to speak what was in her heart, yet she held back. The knowledge was still too fresh, too frighteningly new. That final clarity about her feelings had come when she had seen Thayer weak and bloodied. For just a little while she wanted to keep it to herself, wanted to privately savor how it felt to be deeply, wholely in love with Thayer. So too did she wish to keep it untarnished by a lack of or an unsatisfactory response from him.
She murmured with pleasure as he slid his hand down to stroke her backside. “Your wound…”
“Has not crippled me.” He felt the hunger for a woman he often suffered after a battle, a hunger increased tenfold because the woman he held was Gytha.
Wondering how her passion could be so quickly, so fiercely, aroused when she had just been so distraught, she began to squirm beneath his caresses. “You should rest.”
“The battle has stirred my blood and you, sweet little Gytha, have set it afire.”
“Are you sure you have enough blood left to be stirred?”
Easily setting her on top of himself, he cupped her derriere in his hands, pressing her loins against his. “More than enough. But are you too weary to test my claim?”
The way he slowly, erotically rubbed her body against his had her gasping slightly. “I believe I can be persuaded.”
Sliding his hands up her slim body he cupped them around her face, tugging her mouth close to his. He teased her lips with swift, nibbling kisses until she burrowed her fingers in his hair, holding his mouth against hers and silently demanding a fuller kiss. Holding her close, he answered her demand, growling in soft delight when she matched his increasing ferocity. What little control he had over his hot need was lost when she continued to rub her body against his. Easing his hand down her soft midriff and between her restless legs, he did not need her husky purr to tell him she was ready.
“Mount your man, little one.” Grasping her by the hips he edged her into position for what he wanted.
Blushing, although she was not sure whether the heated color came from embarrassment over his blunt words or the rush of desire his husky command invoked, she glanced at him through the tangled curtain of her hair. “I am not sure I know what you want.”
“I want you to lead the dance. Set yourself on me, dearling.”
Slowly she did as he asked, easing their bodies together. What passion had been stolen by uncertainty and some awkwardness came back in a rush and grew rapidly as she felt him fill her. Carefully, she sat up straighter. The deep groan Thayer gave told her he found this position as exciting as she did. She was not sure how it was possible, yet it was as if they were more thoroughly joined than they had ever been before.
Tentatively she moved. It was only a gentle motion, yet it left her gasping, the sensation so exquisite it stole her breath away. She did not need Thayer’s grip tightening upon her hips to urge her to do it again. Her body demanded it of her.
Although pleasure struggled to close his eyes, Thayer forced them to remain open. The sight of her astride him, of the pleasure so clearly displayed upon her lovely face, gave him a delight no words could describe. He reached out to cup her breasts in his hands and her pace increased. Despite wanting it to last as long as possible, Thayer knew neither of them had the strength or will to tame their need.
When he sensed her release at hand he pulled her down into his arms, covering her mouth with his own. The way she mimicked the movement of her body with the thrusts of her tongue drove him wild. He clutched her hips, holding her tightly against him as her cry of release filled his mouth. Lifting her slightly, he sought to delve deeper within her even as he joined her in the blinding culmination of their desires.
It was several minutes before he found the wit or strength to do more than hold her close. Carefully, he eased the intimacy of their embrace, settling her sleep-weighted body more comfortably against him. The warmth of satisfaction could be heard in her every breath, felt in her cuddling movements. As always, it both pleased and amazed him. He could not stop wondering how such a delicate beauty could find such obvious delight with a man like him. Ashamed though he was to admit it, he knew that was one reason, however small, that he fought to watch her as they made love. Some part of him feared to see that it was all an act, that her pleasure in his arms was but a sham.
“How fares your wound?” Gytha asked, then hastily smothered a yawn.
“Nary a twinge,” he lied, for it did ache, but he deemed it a small price to pay for what he had just enjoyed.
She laughed softly and sleepily shook her head. He was not telling the truth, but she did not challenge him on it. If it did hurt, she doubted the pain was very great. She felt no weakness in his hold nor heard any hint of pain in his voice. Giving into desire had evidently caused him little real damage.
That brought her thoughts back to what they had just enjoyed. She had firmly grasped the reins of the lovemaking, acting wanton and wild. Memory brought hot color into her cheeks. It also made her frown.
“About what we just did, Thayer—does the church sanction it?”
He could not help himself; he laughed. “I doubt it, sweeting. I do not think it carries a very large penance, though.”
“Nay, you are probably right. Even if you are wrong, I doubt I will confess the sin. I should never get the words out,” she murmured, then smiled as Thayer laughed.
