Chapter Ten #4
Encouraged, I took as much of him as I could, increasing the light suction, easing him in and out of my mouth, tasting the salty essence of him as my hands continued to stroke and explore.
“Stella,” he rasped. “Hellfire and damnation, I can’t hold on to this. ’Tis too much.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. But I was soon to find out.
As I took him deeper once again, suckling him in a gentle rhythm, he groaned as though he were being burned by the hellfire he spoke of.
Hot liquid filled my mouth in jetting, milky pulses.
His rush had overcome him, and here it was.
As he had done to me, prolonging my ecstasy with his mouth, so I did to him.
I took his essence, swallowing his bliss, licking and kissing and playing him with my lips and my tongue until he was completely spent.
After a time, he pulled himself away, tilting my head up with his hands.
In his eyes I saw amazement, and tender revelation.
He rid himself of his low-strung trews, kicking them away.
He took the knife from where it lay on the bed and placed it on the bedside table.
Then he gathered me into his arms, against his skin, laying me back and covering us with the furs.
He wrapped his long limbs around me, settling me close to him in a comforting, all-encompassing embrace.
My head was tucked against his chest, so I could hear the steady beat of his heart.
I could feel his soft kisses against my hair.
I was more content than I had ever been, and my eyes closed.
* * *
I WAS AWAKENED by the silky touch of Kade’s thick hair brushing along my thigh, his wandering fingers playing.
I was positioned on my side, my knees bent, with one leg propped up and slung across his brawny shoulder.
His head rested on one of my splayed thighs as the soft, nuzzling wetness of his tongue stroked me open, infusing me with restless, awakening rapture.
I tugged on his hair, and my husband chuckled, even as his tongue slid deeper into my body, possessing me as he gripped me with his ironlike hands, pulling me closer to his mouth, feeding on my pleasure.
His unholy tongue stroked me open, lapping against my secret petals, parting me to his hungry persistence.
He licked a small circle around the sensitive bud, flicking and teasing before his mouth fixed upon it, sucking strongly in cyclical pulls.
With each tug, a rising bolt of sweetness rose from within me.
“Kade,” I moaned, my hands on his head, in his hair.
“Please.” I was sobbing. ’Twas too much.
I couldn’t contain the overloading tide, which spilled from my core in rushing, clenching bursts that seemed endless in their intensity.
I rode the undulating wave, rolling my hips to quell the excesses.
Still he wouldn’t relent. He pushed his tongue deep inside me, delving along to the rhythm of my body, igniting fresh, torturous ecstasy.
My inner muscles clamped voluptuously around his wicked tongue.
He kissed my swollen, sated flesh, licking me, whispering against my body.
“Nectar,” he murmured. “Heaven on earth.”
After many minutes of this attentive, unhurried appreciation, my husband crawled up my body to lie next to me, propping himself up on one crooked elbow.
He regarded me with a smug, lazy grin and narrowed eyes.
I felt the connectivity of our locked gaze in my heart as a small ache that I could not name.
But then he disengaged, rolling away and rising from the bed.
His manhood was no less pronounced that it had been the night before, but he made no move to cover himself.
I wondered what it must be like to walk around like that all day.
Was it painful? Distracting? He seemed to take little notice of it as he retrieved something from an open trunk.
He’d yet to unpack all his belongings. It was just one of the many jobs to do.
He returned to the bed, holding a small leather bundle. “I’ve made something for you,” he said. “I want you to keep this with you at all times.”
“What is it?” I asked, sitting up.
“A knife,” he said, holding it up. It was a miniature of his large bone-handled knife, with its own fitted holster and small belt.
Its blade caught a flicker of light. “I’ve sharpened it well.
It will inflict a fatal wound if used correctly.
I’m going to strap it to your leg, where it’s hidden from view.
No one will know you’re armed. Yet you have protection, if you happen to need it. ”
Kade strapped the small belt to my thigh just above my knee, cinching it and placing the knife securely in its pouch.
It felt strange to be naked like this, with him, my only adornment a small yet lethal weapon.
Yet I didn’t feel uncomfortable. Already, I was adjusting to this closeness, this familiarity.
Because I had been given time to get used to him, and because I knew that he would allow me all my hesitations and respect my limits, he’d effectively banished my reservations.
I felt no residual fear. His presence offered me only comfort now, and promise.
And I felt touched that my husband had prepared this for me. He’d been thinking of me.
Kade leaned over me, and a tiny surge of excitement pricked my intimate places.
He withdrew the knife from its small scabbard.
He held its sharpened blade in his closed fist and I almost reminded him to be careful.
But it occurred to me, of course, who I was speaking to.
He hardly needed reminding of such things.
Reaching for my hand, Kade placed the handle of the knife in my grasp, wrapping his own hand around mine.
The knife’s glinty tip was pointed at him and he placed it against the skin of his side, above his hip and below his ribs.
“Here,” he said. “If you are ever threatened in this way, this is where you strike. Gouge deep—and put some effort into it. Muscle is more resilient that you might expect. Up and in. Twist and slice. Like this.” He twisted the knife in our collective grasp to show me the motion. “All right? Show me.”
He let go of my hand, watching me. I mimicked the movement he’d shown me, twisting, gritting my teeth, giving him what I hoped was a look of ferocious menace.
He smiled widely, flashing white teeth. Then he laughed. I thought it strange that I would feel his laughter in my deepest depths, feeding the small excitement that lurked there at the sight of his blatant, rampant desire.
“That’s good,” he said, “although you need to concentrate more on your technique than your scowl. Like this,” he said, holding my hand and jerking the knife in a more forceful thrust as he twisted it in one fluid motion.
He was more satisfied by my second demonstration, and he rose from the bed as he watched me. “Keep practicing when no one’s about.” He pulled on his trews, tucking his massive manhood into place with some difficulty before fastening the ties.
“Husband,” I said, and I couldn’t hide the shyness in my voice, even though, by now, I had little cause for it. “Would you like me to—”
His heated gaze speared me with its intensity, and I paused, not entirely sure how I would articulate my offer. “Aye, wife. I would. But that will have to wait until later. I’m needed below.”
“But your—”
“I’ve been walking around like this since the moment I laid eyes on you, lass.
The daily swims, alas, have little effect.
I’ll be glad when this month is over,” he said wryly.
Then he pulled his tunic over his head, slid on his boots and secured the three weapons belts he always wore, plus an extra one. “And you’ll be well occupied.”