Chapter Six #3
His fingers snaked underneath her sheath, lifting it up as he went.
Her skin was like velvet to his rough-hewn fingers, and he literally had to stop himself from trembling as his hand trailed up her thighs to her buttocks, moving further to her hip.
When the sheath came up as high as her groin, he felt her hesitate and modestly try to keep it from coming up any further.
His lips left her earlobe and went to her mouth, kissing her until she could hardly take a breath.
It distracted her enough so that he was able to lift the sheath to her waist. His mouth still on hers, he put both hands underneath the sheath and lifted it over her head in one clean motion.
In the same action, he lifted up the side of the coverlet, covering her enough for modesty so that she would not feel exposed.
It was a considerate thing to do, but Matthew, unlike most men, had always been intuitively considerate.
Perhaps it was his mother’s influence, the gentle Audrey; whatever the reason, he was thoughtful in a way that Alixandrea would benefit from.
She never felt exposed or uncomfortable as Matthew covered her and removed his boots and breeches.
Somehow, it all came off in the heat of passion and soon they were both nude beneath the turned up corner of the coverlet.
Matthew never said a word as his mouth returned to her, only now it explored beneath her neckline.
Her shoulders, the swell of her breasts, and her arms were all targets for his tender lips.
Alixandrea lay there, smothered by his enormous body and tented with the coverlet, feeling the predominant emotions of comfort and satisfaction and something she could not yet define.
Having never been intimate with a man, the painful tingling in her arms and legs was something she’d never known, and every time he suckled her skin, it made her want to gasp.
A few times, she did. But when Matthew’s mouth latched onto a nipple, she achieved an entirely new level of sensation she’d not yet conceived of.
His hot, moist mouth nearly brought her off the bed.
He put his hands on her arms, holding her to the mattress as he suckled.
First one breast and then the other; Alixandrea’s head was spinning with exhilaration.
Matthew’s attentions were becoming more and more insistent as he held her down while his mouth ravaged her.
Soon he released her and his hands joined in the plunder.
Alixandrea lay beneath him, too upswept with the new experience to be of much use.
But when his hand moved to the fluff of soft curls between her legs, she instinctively flinched.
“’Tis all right, sweet girl,” he murmured. “I promise that I will be gentle.”
His voice, so soft and soothing in her ear, gave her courage. It also sent chills up her spine. Everything was so new and consuming. She would have to trust him; he’d not failed her yet. In fact, he had gone out of his way to make sure she was secure.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
He shifted his body so that he wedged himself in between her luscious legs.
His hands were on her, everywhere; he could not seem to touch her fast enough, tenderly enough.
She was so delectable that he was like a starving man at a feast; everything was appealing.
He wanted to gorge himself. But he had to remember that she was oh-so-new to this, and that constant reminder tempered his rampage.
But not entirely. He wanted to feel himself inside of her.
He kissed her hard as he eased into her, feeling her slickness against his member.
He played with her, easing in, withdrawing, making way further and further inside of her each time.
Finally, he could stand it no longer and he pulled back and drove hard, seating himself deep inside of her.
The most she did was draw in a sharp breath; there was nothing more.
No crying, no hysterics. Relieved, encouraged, his kisses softened against her mouth as he slowly began to move.
It had been a long time since Matthew had been with a woman.
So long, in fact, that he could not remember when last he touched female flesh.
But gazing down at Alixandrea’s face, it was as if no other woman had existed before her.
It was a struggle not to erupt immediately into her sweet body; he wanted to savor it, to feel it, and he wanted her to do the same.
In the soft afternoon light that drifted in through the lancet window, Matthew gazed down at her body, shielded by the coverlet that covered them both; her breasts were round and firm and peaked, her stomach flat, her slender legs parted to receive him.
It was too much to take. He shouldn’t have looked at her.
One hand supporting himself and the other hand on her buttock, his thrusts grew more insistent.
He knew his pleasure was coming quickly and he did not want to stop it.
The hand on her buttock moved between them and he stroked the damp curls, feeling the place where their bodies melded.
Gently, his fingers played with her and he could feel her body stiffen beneath him.
Another few strokes with both his maleness and his fingers and Alixandrea gasped loudly, her body arching against him.
He lost himself, spilling within her, driving home with all of the power and passion he was feeling.
Too soon, it was over. Too soon, their bodies cooled and their passion banked until they lay in a heap, intertwined, dozing away the minutes as the world went on around them. The calm after the storm had arrived, and it settled heavily.
Yet Alixandrea was not asleep. She lay beneath Matthew’s enormous body, thinking that of all the things she had imagined this moment would be, it did not compare with the reality of it.
She had heard the female servants telling stories of pain and devastation at the hands of inept men.
But Matthew was not inept; he had been kind and considerate and gentle and, above all, he had made her feel things that she had never imagined to exist.
“Are you well?” his mouth was against her forehead. “I did not hurt you, did I?”
She tilted her head back, looking up at him.
The more she saw of this man, the more handsome he became.
It wasn’t so much in his physical appearance, for she had seen men that were more beautiful.
But he had a certain quality she could not quite put her finger on that made him absolutely irresistible, far more attractive than any man she had ever known.
“Nay,” she said softly. “You were quite gentle.”
“I’d hoped to be. I did not want this to be a bad experience for you, as it is with some.”
“It wasn’t.” She snuggled against him, daring to be bold and pressing herself against him. He was big and warm and safe. “Would it be possible to stay all day here?”
He laughed, low in his throat. “It would be my most ardent desire, but alas, I cannot. I am mobilizing an army and…”
This time, she put her fingers on his lips to silence him. “Say no more, husband. I know that you are a busy man with much demand for your time and attention.”
He kissed her fingers. “But none more important than you.”
She gazed at him a long moment before laughing softly. “How can you say that,” she asked, “when you have only known me for two days?”
He put a massive arm behind his head, resting on it. “Because you are my wife. It matters not if I have known you two days, two months, or twenty years. By virtue of your station, you will always be important to me.”
She sat up, clutching the coverlet to her chest. With her mussed bronze hair, sweet face and creamy skin, he was indeed in danger of staying there all day. He reached out, pushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
“This is a contract marriage, Matthew,” she said softly. “You do not have to say things that you do not mean. You are not obligated to pay me lip service.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Is that what you think I am doing?”
Her head wagged back and forth, slowly. “I did not say that you were. But as we have both acknowledged, we’ve known each other only two days. We know so little about one another. How can you make declarations of my importance without even knowing me?”
“I told you. As my wife, you will always be important, even if we grow to hate one another.”
Her bronze eyes were fixed intently on him. “I pray that it never comes to that. I promise you that I will do all in my power to ensure that this marriage is pleasant for the both of us.”
He toyed with the ends of her hair. “I hope it is much more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged, those big shoulders lifting.
“Though we have known each other a very short time, I have seen much that I like during that time and very little that I don’t.
I may be many things, but a bad judge of character is not one of them.
My life has depended on it. I would be willing to wager that you are a woman of good character. ”
She was beginning to feel that wonderful warmth again, something he seemed so capable of creating between them. “Even though I do not like to tend wounds?”
He laughed softly. “Aye, even though you do not like to tend wounds.”
“And even though I do not like to sew?”
“Aye, even that.”
Her gaze continued to linger on him, drifting over the enormous bicep near his head, the muscular build of his bare chest. Being a proper lady, she should have been embarrassed faced with the bare flesh of a man, but found that she was not. She rather liked looking at him.
“What do you like to do, Matt?”
His easy smile turned gentle; he liked hearing his name come out of her mouth. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged and lay back down beside him; he gathered her into his arms and held her close. “I mean just that,” she said softly. “I like to tend flowers and sometimes I like to draw. What do you like to do in your leisure time?”
He thought a moment. “I have been a sworn knight since I was seventeen years of age,” he said pensively. “All I have known is war since that time. Seventeen years of battles. I suppose there hasn’t been much time for leisure.”
“But if there was time, what would you do?”
He tickled her nose. “Probably spend it with you.”
She giggled and swatted at his hand. “Aye, but doing what?”
He snorted, burying his face in her neck, his hot hands once again moving down the hollow of her slender back. “Doing what we just did.”
She laughed softly, pushing at him. “Be serious. I am attempting to get to know you, husband. You could cooperate.”
He pulled back and looked at her, though the blue eyes were still full of humor. Errant strands of bronze hair were in her face and he pushed them aside to get a better view.
“Sorry,” he said, though he really wasn’t. “I suppose if I had to think of one thing I like to do, ’tis to go fishing.”
“Fishing?”
“Aye. I used to do it with my father when I was a lad. In fact, I could fish before I could walk. There is much peace and serenity to fishing, far removed from the cries and violence of the battlefield. Fishing, to me, has always signified peace because I learned it at such a young age before I even learned to wield a sword.”
“I have never been fishing.”
“Then we shall have to remedy that.”
She grinned at him, a joyful smile which he easily returned.
He wanted nothing more than to make love to her again, but he refrained.
Better to bask in the wonder and joy of their first time together.
She was his wife now and he looked forward to a lifetime of opportunity to further acquaint himself with her lovely mind and body.
She fell back asleep in his arms. Though Matthew did not sleep, he stayed with her and did not move a muscle.