Chapter 12 #2
He stood with her still in his arms and carried her to the bed. She waited until she was under the coverlets before she shed the robe and tucked it under her pillow.
Richard’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he began to strip. Gwen watched him, breathless, then turned away at the last second, flushing at his low chuckle.
The mattress shifted as his weight sank onto it. Gwen had to hold on to keep from rolling into him. Her skin tingled with his nearness. She could actually feel him breathing!
And then she felt him behind her. His body didn’t touch hers, but he was close enough that his heat scorched her anyway.
She stifled a gasp when his lips touched her shoulder.
His fingers traced a searing path down her side—shoulder to curve of waist to flare of hip to thigh.
Gwen felt a tremor of excitement wash over her.
“Good night, Princess,” he murmured in her ear. Then he turned on his side, and promptly fell asleep.
For a while, Gwen did not think she would be able to do the same.
Her body was on fire. Her breasts tingled, and the damp heat between her thighs pulsed.
It was a very long time before the rhythmic sound of his breathing lulled her into a sleep that was troubled by dreams of him touching her in those places that burned for him.
Gwen awoke, still enclosed in the cocooned semi-darkness of the bedcurtains. A sliver of light cut through a narrow opening, caressing Richard’s body from the waist down. She waited, but he did not move.
It was odd, waking up beside a man. He lay on his back, one knee bent to the side, his head turned away from her. She could feel the heat coming from his body and she longed to curl up beside him. She wanted to see what he looked like and what he felt like.
Curiosity began to get the best of her the longer she lay there. What did he look like down there anyway? She wormed her way toward him, easing across him to look at his face. His eyes were closed.
She lay back, exhaling slowly. Now, all she had to do was lift the covers and the mysterious male sex would be revealed. She took a deep breath. Slowly, she lifted.
The black hair that had tapered down to the waist of his braies branched out again, hiding what she sought. She frowned. Maybe if she sat up a little. Her face flamed at her brazenness.
Gwen clenched her stomach muscles, raising herself.
“Can I help you find something, sweet?” His voice was drowsy, but amused.
She dropped the coverlet and fell back. “I was just going to get out of bed.”
“Then why did you not get out on your side?”
Gwen could think of nothing to say.
Before she realized what he was doing, he rolled her beneath him, making sure the sheet separated their bodies. Gwen gasped. It wasn’t enough. She felt every excruciating inch of his skin as it burned into hers.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispered.
“No.” She couldn’t allow him to steal her senses as he had last night.
Whenever he kissed her, she was in danger of losing herself, of drowning in him.
She had the upper hand now. His guilt would not allow him to touch her without permission.
She was going to make sure he paid for all the horrible things he’d done to her.
“You don’t mean that,” he murmured, nibbling her ear.
Gwen closed her eyes. Sweet Mary! If this was how life with him was going to be, she would never endure it. Her body betrayed her without a trace of remorse, awakening to the hot ripple of his breath in her ear.
“Let me kiss you,” he whispered again, fiercely, urgently. She turned toward him, seeking him.
Her answer was lost as his mouth descended, claiming hers. In a rhythm she now knew well, she parted her lips, moaning as their tongues met.
Even as she felt his manhood growing and stretching, her body responded. The sweet ache tortured her, begged her to join her body with his.
As if he knew what she was thinking, he ground his iron maleness against her, rubbing slowly. She sucked in her breath as sensation bolted through her, then raised her hips to meet him.
He groaned, and for a minute she thought she’d done something wrong, but then he was trailing hot kisses down her neck, whispering against her skin, words she only half caught.
He dragged the sheet down, exposing her breasts. Her breathing quickened as his tongue flicked across her nipple. When she thought she would die from the anticipation, he took it in his mouth, licking and sucking. The sharp tingle reached all the way to her toes.
“Richard,” she whispered. “Oh God, Richard.”
“Let me taste my name on your lips.” His voice was throaty, masculine.
“Richard,” she whispered again. He crushed his mouth to hers. She succeeded in wrenching her arms free of the tangled sheet, and she wrapped them around him, stroking the hard muscles of his back, drowning in a whirlpool of sensation.
Dimly, she heard voices. She decided her mind was playing tricks when the sound abruptly ceased.
“My lord?” came Alys’s voice beside the bed. “My lord?”
Richard raised his head. “Go away, Alys.”
“My lord, the ladies are here to inspect the sheets.”
“Send them away. They can come back later.”
“I already have. Twice, my lord!”
“Then do it again.”
“They have brought the queen this time, my lord.”
His eyes flashed in the dim light. Gwen squirmed beneath him, her passion ebbing when he was no longer mastering her senses. God above, whenever he touched her she behaved just like the whore he’d accused her of being!
He looked down, realized she was fighting him, and rolled away. Colorful Welsh curses issued from his lips as he threw open the hangings and grabbed for his braies and chausses. “Jesú, if it’s so pressing, tell them they can inspect the goddamn sheets!”