She swallowed and nodded.
He trailed kisses all the way down her leg to her toes. Then ever so slowly, he worked his way back up again. Her heart raced and her breath came fast in anticipation. His hand moved ahead of his mouth, up the inside of her thigh. Finally, his fingers reached the spot where she was aching for him to touch her.
Even as her body responded to the circling motion of his hand between her legs, she was aware of his lips and tongue inching up the inside of her leg. She forgot to breathe as he moved closer and closer to her center.
When his mouth replaced his hand, new sensations rocked through her. It felt so good.Oh God, oh God, oh God.Had she said that aloud? Fleetingly, she hoped she would not be struck by lightning for her blasphemy. Then that thought, along with all others, left her. All she knew was his tongue moving over her. And then he was sliding his finger in and out of her and sucking.
As the tension grew inside her, she tossed her head from side to side. She wanted to tell him, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” but she could not form the words. Every muscle was taut; every part of her was focused on his tongue, his mouth. The tension grew and grew until she wanted to scream in frustration.
Then her body convulsed in waves of pleasure so intense she thought she might never recover. After, she lay limp, her limbs boneless.
When he came to lie beside her, she rolled weakly to her side. He enveloped her in his arms from behind. She heard his harsh breathing in her ear.
“I love you,” he said, and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
He ran his fingers lightly over her skin, sending tingles through her. He kissed her neck, her cheek, her hair. When he reached around to cup her breast, she felt his erection against her bottom, and she moved closer. He pressed more insistently against her, and she wanted to feel him inside her again.
His hand was between her legs, his breath hot in her ear.
“You are the only one, Kate. The only one I want. The only one I’ll ever want.”
When he entered her, she was engulfed in his warmth, his desire. She could no longer tell where he ended and she began. They moved as one; they were one. When he cried out, his cry was her cry, too, and she was swept away with him.
She dozed with his arms wrapped around her, happy and at peace. He wanted her back. He loved her.
When she awoke, she turned in his arms to look at him. In the firelight, he was all sharp angles, golden skin, and long sinewy muscles. How she missed seeing him like this. He was so beautiful he took her breath away.
He cupped her cheek with his hand. His dark honey eyes were intense, serious, as they gazed deep into hers.
“It almost killed me to lose you,” he whispered. “I could not bear it again.”
She put her arms around him and buried her head in his neck, wanting to comfort and reassure him.
Soon they were kissing. Warm, long, wet kisses. Melding, merging, deep, deep kisses. Then he was inside her again, and they were moving together. This time, the intensity of emotion between them was almost overwhelming. Catherine let down every barrier. She gave herself up to him utterly, absolutely, holding nothing back. She let his passion and love surround her, complete her, and make her whole.
She awoke hours later to a gush of cold air. She stretched and sat up as William came through the door with a heaping platter of food and a heavy pitcher. She smiled at him as she pulled the bedclothes up around her shoulders.
“The weather has turned bad,” he said, draping his wet cloak over a chair by the fire. “I was told Robert left yesterday to beat the storm.”
The smell of warm bread and roasted meat set her stomach rumbling as she joined him at the small table. Judging by the way he fell to his breakfast, William was as ravenous as she. They ate in silence for some minutes before he spoke again.
“I know you are anxious to be home and see Jamie,” he said, “but we shall have to wait another day for this storm to pass.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded.
“Will you be angry if I confess I am glad to have my wife to myself for another day?” He leaned across the table to give her a slow, lingering kiss. “Tomorrow is soon enough for putting on clothes and traveling with the men.”
William had not wanted to ask questions—or hear answers—that might spoil the complete happiness between them while they were ensconced in their bedchamber at Beaumaris. Lost in their passion, they spoke little there beyond love talk.
So it was not until they started on the long ride home to Ross Castle that they began to share details of their time apart. William gave her the mundane news of Ross Castle first. Gradually, he turned the conversation to her weeks of captivity.
He asked first about her time with the Tudors, since he knew she had not suffered unduly there. For a time, she entertained him with stories of the antics of little Owain. Then her face grew serious.
“If you had come a day later, I would be back at Harlech.” She clutched her cloak tightly about her as she rode and stared off at the horizon. “It was a close thing.”
He asked about Glyndwr. From the way she spoke of him, it was clear she admired the rebel leader.
“Maredudd told me Glyndwr can always tell a falsehood, but I managed it.” She gave a light laugh, and he heard the pride in her voice. “I got better each time. When I told him I was not with child, I looked straight into his eyes—and this man has eyes that see right into your soul.
