Wolf threw his wife a half-grin. “What happens if she has a son?”
Beth turned to frown at him. He exercised his own control by not laughing.
“Thank you, Beth.” He clearly stunned her by offering his appreciation.
Camelee came to his side in a show of unity and took his hand. “Yes, thank you.”
They waited for all the women to leave. There was an endless line of fourteen of them. But the door finally closed. Wolf leaped forward and slammed the bolt home, locking them in.
Camelee tossed him a playful smile and dashed off. He gave chase and stopped, facing her when she reached the steamy bath. She kicked off her shoes. He did the same with his boots.
He gazed at her face, into her eyes. She gazed into his. He never thought it would matter if his wife loved him very much. But he found that he never wanted Camelee to gaze at him with anything less than what she exuded at this moment.
He moved in to kiss her, but she held him back and began to pull off his léine. She wanted to delight in him, too. It fired his blood. He lifted his arms while she stripped him. He moved closer when his chest was bare and settled his upstretched arms around her.
He untied the laces of her gown behind her back and dipped his face to kiss her while he pulled the gown off her shoulders. He scraped his teeth down her chin and throat to her shoulder. When he tugged her gown lower and exposed her round breasts, she lowered her gaze. He smiled. “Come now, Wife. You should be staring boldly at me, sure in the fact that you are more beautiful than anyone my eyes have ever seen.”
“As are you, Wolf.” She stroked her fingertips across the flat of his lower abdomen, below the crooks and hills everywhere else.
She pulled at his belt and loosened it until it slipped from his hips. Then she started on the laces of his pants. He pulled her gown down around her ankles and came back up with his lips pressed to her thigh, her hip, and the hollow above it. He straightened and kicked off his pants, and then, wanting to make certain the water wasn’t too hot for her, he stepped into the bath first then held her by her waist and helped her in near him.
Holding hands, they sank in and smiled at each other. The water was perfect. She went willingly when he slipped her around and sat her between his legs with her back resting against his chest.
“Camelee?” he said against her ear.
“Yes, my love?”
He smiled at her endearment behind her. “I do not want to make you live in my longhouse in Denmark.”
“What?” she asked, sounding surprised and turning to look at him. “Wolf, have you been worried about this?”
“No. I simply realize that a princess should live in…someplace bigger than what I have.”
She slapped his arm softly and turned her back to him. “I’m willing to try it. I like the idea of you keeping me warm in bed every night.” She stiffened in his embrace. “You do have a bed, don’t you?”
“Yes, I have a bed, Wench.”
“Oh, now I’m Wench, not Wife?” she asked with a playful—maybe—warning in her voice.
“You are both,” he growled like a bear and began roving his soapy hands over her body. He hardened at the way her nipples grew taut at his touch. He widened his legs and she fit perfectly between them, except for one thing.
He wanted to wait and play with her a little, but he felt as if he were on fire. The instant her body touched him he almost lost himself. He lifted her and set her down atop him under the warm water. He used his fingers to gently massage her hard nub. She squirmed going down, enflaming his blood, his flesh further, hotter. He pressed her down and rubbed until she tightened around him and made him spend himself deep within her.
The more she gasped out his name in her pleasure, the more he filled her. It was as if he filled her with years’ worth of himself.
He sat with her cradled in his arms. They breathed and laughed softly at nothing, or about everything. He wasn’t sure which. He didn’t care. He was expecting things to happen quickly since he hadn’t been with a woman in years. But not that quick!
“I would like to live in your longhouse, Wolf. Tell me, what’s a longhouse?”
He smiled and leaned in to smell her hair. He loved her. It surprised and frightened him how much. He turned her in his arms so that they faced each other in the still warm water. “I like it here.”
“You mean to live?”
He shrugged. “For as long as we like. We do not age here. You cannot tell me that does not appeal to you.”
She smiled, turning away. But there was nowhere to hide. “We could stay for a little while. With all the magic going on, we might hate it here.”
He grinned at her and shook his head. He passed her the small, silver bowl of liquid soap and lathered up his hands. She felt irresistible in his hands, slippery and sensitive to his touch. As he was to hers. When she gripped him in her small hand and pumped him almost to overflowing, he snatched her up and set her down, impaling her to the hilt.
