Chapter Twelve #2
He smiled and she touched his lips as the uneven display split his face into two halves.
“Every man who sees you believes as I do,” he shifted her in his arms, reclining on his back and pulling her onto his mighty chest. “As for God and Fate, my lady, I believe that both have kept you sequestered for all of these years, waiting for the event of my arrival. Knowing that I was the only man worthy of your beauty, your spirit, and the only man intelligent enough to break you of your habitual stammer.”
She tore her gaze from his mouth, lifting a delicate eyebrow at his arrogant statement. “My, my, how confident we are in God’s Master Plan. T-Tell me, if you would, how we are to explain our introduction to our children? Do we tell them that God and Fate brought us together by magic?”
He stared at her a moment, his smile vanishing with unnatural speed. Summer could see the faltering of expression, the flash of pain, or mayhap panic, in his eyes and it puzzled her. Both hands to his cheeks, she endeavored to force him to meet her eye.
“W-What’s the matter? What did I say?”
He shook his head, unwilling to elaborate on the apprehension that filled his veins the moment she mentioned their prospective children.
God’s Beard, their entire introduction and courtship had been such a whirlwind of emotion and activity that he had never truly been given the chance to linger on the potential of offspring.
And given a moment to reflect, he realized the very thought scared him witless.
“Nothing, love,” he replied. “Nothing at all.”
Struggling to distract both her and himself, he kissed her firmly on the lips. But the effort wasn’t hard fought; the moment she responded to his seeking mouth, he forgot about everything but his growing feelings for her.
Genisa’s scarlet and gold gown was coming off.
Summer felt the stays as they loosened, the silken material as it slid over her shoulders and down her torso.
Bose’s warm, calloused palms were against her breasts, bare flesh to bare flesh, and she again groaned softly with the wonder of it.
When his lips left hers and moved tenderly to a swollen nipple, Summer did not protest the action.
An afternoon of private touches and awesome discovery had done well enough to prepare her for the event of his mouth upon her breast. He had fondled her a great deal beneath Grandfather’s oak, stroking her through the confining material of her gown and listening to her soft grunts of pleasure.
But he hadn’t merely touched her breasts; his seeking, curious hands had moved about her entire body, snaking up her skirt and caressing the silken flesh of her thighs.
The true jewel of his search, however, had remained untouched during the course of their time together.
A looming discovery that caused his hands to shake with anticipation as his scarred, course fingers danced underneath her skirts.
Suckling her breasts, his hands skimmed her shapely legs, moving beyond her knees and lingering in the moist warmth between her thighs.
Pushing her legs apart gently, he continued to blaze a trail up her silken thigh until the delicate brush of kinked hair tickled the tips of his fingers.
Beneath him, Summer lurched with surprise and Bose’s head came up from her beautiful breasts, his eyes glazed with desire. She met his gaze, her half-lidded expression fearful and curious at the same time. He smiled faintly.
“Do not be afraid, love. I’ll be gentle.”
She blinked as if pondering his statement. “I-I… I-I am not. But you did n-not touch me… earlier, b-beneath the tree, y-you did not….”
He shushed her softly, stroking her cheek with infinite tenderness. “There is no need to be nervous, love. Relax and take a deep breath. That’s my good girl.”
A faint flush mottled Summer’s cheeks as she did as she was told, calming the severe stammer that always accompanied an attack of nerves. After a moment, her half-lidded gaze of desire transformed into a more lucid, serious expression.
“There is so much I do not know,” she said softly, her fingers toying with his hair. “The ways of men and women… I know the physical aspects of coupling, but that is where my knowledge ends. You’ve been married before and….”
“And I fully intend to teach you everything I have learned if you will allow me,” he interrupted her quietly.
After a moment, he removed her fidgeting hand from his hair and kissed the palm gently.
“I will not continue if you do not want me to. I apologize if you believe my actions bold, for certainly, my sole intention was to demonstrate my feelings for you and nothing more. I never meant to frighten you.”
She watched him as he nibbled on her hand. “I am not frightened,” she said softly, a half-truth. “B-But this is all happening so fast that I can scarcely comprehend all of it.”
He smiled, reading her uncertainty and deciding not to force himself on her this night.
If all went according to plan, they would be wed shortly and he could spend the rest of his life teaching her the finer arts of lovemaking.
Until then, however, he was perfectly content to wait.
At least, he would make an attempt to maintain a proper patience.
But, God’s Beard, the wait would be a difficult one.
Pulling her skirts down, he shifted his massive frame so that he was looming over her, well removed from the temptation of her forbidden zone. Summer met his gaze, seeing the beads of sweat upon his brow and not unaware they were the results of a passionate fire raging wildly out of control.
“Forgive me for spoiling your passion,” she said softly. “I certainly did not mean to.”
He shook his head, kissing her delicious lips. “You did not,” he whispered against her mouth. “’Tis proper that we should wait for the marriage bed, of course. If your brothers demand bloodied sheets that I am unable to supply, I suspect you will be a widow before your next birthday.”
She giggled softly, returning his gentle kisses. “You may continue to touch my breasts if that will help control your lust.”
He cocked an eyebrow, passing a lingering glance at her beautifully full breasts pressed against his chest. “I… I do not believe that to be a wise action, but I thank you for the invitation.”
“B-But why?” she was genuinely puzzled by his rejection. “I thought you wanted to touch them. This afternoon, your hands scarcely touched anything else.”
He sighed, scratching his chin as he pondered the proper words to explain himself. “Believe me when I tell you that touching your breasts will not bank my passions, love. Touching them will only stoke the fires.”
Her brow furrowed. “I do not understand.”
He sighed again, clearing his throat for good measure as he groped for the correct wording.
“You see… Summer, love, your breasts arouse me terribly. Here,” he took her hand, putting it to his groin.
Through his breeches, Summer could feel his rock-hard arousal and her eyes widened.
Meeting her astonished gaze, he nodded faintly.
“Do you feel my want for you? A want that will only be sated when I join my body to yours. If I continue touching your breasts, the want will build and build until I explode. But if I refrain from touching you and we change the subject, the want will naturally fade.”
“And you will n-not explode?”
He grinned. “A figure of speech, love. But I most certainly will wish I could explode if my loins grow any harder.”
Her warm hand lingered on his pulsing bulge a moment longer before removing it, seemingly lost in thought.
After a moment, she shook her head with wonder.
“T-This is all so new to me. I have seen dogs mate, of course… and once, I happed upon a soldier and a serving wench in the alcove near the kitchens. There was a good deal of grunting and squealing and…” she shook her head again.
“When we mate, you will spill your seed into my womb, will you not?”
He nodded, amazed that she was thinking so clearly and clinically about a most personal subject.
Even this afternoon, when he had touched her breasts and explored her body in a limited fashion, she had showed surprisingly little resistance or fear.
Certainly, the subject of physical interaction between a man and a woman was hardly a worthy focus of conversation for an innocent young maiden, but she was obviously unembarrassed by such discussion and he endeavored to answer her inquisitive questions honestly.
“I will,” he replied. “That is how children are conceived.”
“I know,” she responded softly. “Kermit told me.”
“Who is Kermit?”
He swore he saw a flash of pain in the darkly gold eyes.
“He was my father’s steward until his d-death last year.
He taught me everything about life and schooled me in various subjects,” suddenly, a mischievous sparkle appeared in her eye, quickly replacing the tinge of sorrow.
“I swore that I w-would name my first born son after my dearest friend and tutor. I rather like the name Kermit de Moray.”
He cocked a disagreeable eyebrow. “And I do not. Hardly an appropriate name for my….”
Abruptly, he found himself unable to complete the sentence.
Hardly an appropriate name for my son. Once again, feelings of anxiety descended upon him as he allowed himself to imagine Summer conceiving a child, enduring a horrific pregnancy implanted with a babe far too large for her small frame to carry.
An infant the size and power of his illustrious father, bringing yet another de Moray wife to ruin and death.