Chapter 23 #3
“Aye, I fully accept the blame.” He rose and pulled her up with him. “And now, if you do not object, I think I might like a demonstration of your wantoness since I have thought of nothing else all evening but your naked body underneath that fur.”
Gwen spread her hands over his chest. “How can I refuse my savior?”
His hands tightened over her arms. “Nay, Gwen, not for that. Never for that. Do it because you want me.”
She said the only thing she could say, the thing she knew instinctively she had to say. “I want you, Richard. ’Tis because I like the things, umm, the things…” She dropped her chin to her chest, her ears growing hot.
He laughed softly. “Ah, sweet, you are absolutely the most uninhibited recent ex-virgin I’ve ever known, but you can’t say the words, can you?
You can’t say that you like it when we make love, that you like the way it feels when I’m deep inside you, or the way I touch you, or the way my tongue feels on your hot flesh. ”
A fire raged in Gwen’s body, but she still couldn’t look at him.
“It makes a man crazy when a woman tells him the things she likes about his lovemaking.”
She raised her head. “Truly?”
He put his hand over his heart. “I swear it.” His brows drew together thoughtfully. “There is perhaps another English word I should teach you. Owain wouldn’t dare, and mayhap I should not either, but I don’t think I can resist the temptation.”
He smiled mischievously and Gwen’s curiosity was piqued. “What, Richard? Tell me, please? I want to know.”
“’Tis a vulgar word.”
“I know how to curse! Rh—my father’s warriors taught me.” She watched him for a sign he’d picked up on her near slip. He didn’t mention it and she was relieved.
“You cannot repeat it to anyone.”
“Very well,” she replied impatiently. “Tell me!”
“Fuck.”
“Fuck? What does it mean?”
“To make love.”
Gwen considered it for a moment. Richard watched her, one eyebrow quirked upwards, a lazy grin tickling the corners of his mouth. She sensed there was more to it than that, but she didn’t know what it could be.
“’Tis a rather strange word. But then, English is a strange language, I’ve found. So how do you use it? Do you say…?” She went through every combination she could think of, starting with ‘I want’ and ending with ‘will you’.
Richard led her to the bed while she rolled the foreign words over her tongue. His eyes glittered while she continued to talk.
Finally, he picked her up and laid her before him, spreading the white ermine to reveal her naked body. “Jesú, you are a delight. You’ve just managed to say things even a London harlot might think twice about.”
Gwen propped herself on her elbows. “Why you—!”
Richard pounced on her, pushing her back into the mattress. “Ah, cariad, ’tis incredibly exciting to hear such words cross your sweet lips. Forgive me, but I could not resist.”
Gwen wanted to be angry, but his smile was so disarming that she started to giggle instead. He laughed too, and Gwen caught herself thinking how much she loved the sound of his voice. “You are truly depraved, my lord,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Aye, I am indeed,” he replied, burying his mouth against the hollow of her throat. “And I’m going to make you every bit as depraved as I am. I want you to tell me what you like, and what you want me to do, and where you want me to touch you. I want you to tell me everything.”
Gwen cupped his face between her hands. “I like it when you laugh,” she said softly.
He smiled. “That was not the sort of thing I meant, but I’m glad you said it. I will laugh more often if it pleases you.”
“Aye, it does.”
“What else pleases you, my lady?”
“You please me.”
“Take my hand,” he said, holding it up. “Now, put it where you want it most.”
Gwen hesitated only a moment before setting his open palm on her breast. Before he could do anything, she slid his hand downwards, over her belly, and settled it between her thighs.
Her breath caught as his finger slipped into her cleft.
“Tell me you want me,” he growled.
“Yes, yes, I want you…”
His lips touched the skittering pulse in her throat, and Gwen was lost. She chanted his name as he trailed kisses down her body, then back up again, his garments rasping against her flesh, the touch of the cloth both erotic and maddening.
She tugged at his surcoat, aching, needing to feel his hot skin next to hers. She whimpered when he grabbed her hands.
He pressed his lips to each palm. “’Tis torture, is it not, cariad? But, is it not also exciting, having a man make love to you with all his clothes on?”
In truth, it was very arousing to lie naked before him while he remained fully clothed. She was open, vulnerable, and it made her realize she trusted him, at least in this. He wouldn’t harm her, her handsome knight, the man who had saved her.
Gwen’s hand found his hard length, rubbed it through the layers of cloth. She was rewarded with a low groan. He was less in control than he pretended, and that excited her even further.
“’Tis maddening, my lord.”
He closed his eyes. “And your touch is exquisite, my lady.”
Her nipples thrust against his tongue as he drew each one into his mouth and taught her the raw, hungry depths of desire.
By the time he knelt between her legs, she was moaning his name, begging him for fulfillment.
Holding her breath, she watched as he fumbled beneath his garments to release his chausses.
She couldn’t even see his male weapon when he lifted his tunic and fitted himself to her, entering her body in a long, slow glide.
All she could feel was him—pure, hard, rampant length, filling, filling. And then he was moving and she was riding the sweet waves of intense pleasure, taking him in, differently at this angle, but still wonderful, so wonderful.
She barely remembered the English words, but she managed to say them, and he groaned, thrusting into her even harder.
Wild excitement coursed through her at the sight of him, fully clothed, kneeling between her legs and giving her the same pleasure as if he were naked and lying on top of her.
His hands cupped her bottom, raising her to meet him. Gwen clenched her lower lip between her teeth. She had no idea it was her fingers that toyed with her nipples, or that the sight was driving him mad.
“My God, you are beautiful,” he said, his gaze locked on hers while she took all he had to give. His eyes finally drifted shut and his head tilted back, his breathing coming faster and heavier.
Then he leaned forward and braced himself over her, driving into her with hot fury. Gwen went with him, over the edge, tumbling headlong into the sweet, wild place she’d only recently discovered with him.
It was a long time before they were coherent, and an even longer time after that when Gwen helped him shed his clothes so they could crawl under the coverlets together.
“We can leave the hangings open a bit, if you like,” he murmured in her ear.
Gwen snuggled closer and yawned. She couldn’t believe how tired she was. It made her tongue loose, but she didn’t care. “Nay, I am safe as long as I’m with you.”
“I will protect you, cariad. Always, I promise.”