Chapter 41 #2
“But I just undressed you.” He grabbed the chemise and yanked it away.
Gwen tilted her chin up. “Can you stand it this time, my lord?”
He swallowed. “Aye.” He met her gaze and smiled. “’Tis been many, many years since the sight of a woman threatened to make me spill myself. Not since I was an untried boy…”
“You do not find me repulsive?”
“Repulsive? Have you gone daft, woman?” he demanded.
Gwen laughed with sudden relief. “I thought you could not look at me because my scars repelled you.”
“What scars?”
“These,” she said, splaying her fingers across her middle.
He bent closer. “You call those scars?” He shook his head. “Leave it to a woman to exaggerate the tiniest thing.”
Gwen kissed him. “You are impossible.”
“And you are beautiful.” He picked up the end of her braid and removed the thong. When he’d unbraided her hair, he ran his fingers through it, separating the silken strands until they fell to her hips. “Lie down.”
Gwen lay back on the blanket and planted her feet against his mailclad chest. She felt deliciously wicked with the summer breeze wafting over her skin and the man she loved staring at her so hotly.
He lifted one of her legs, pressing his lips to the soft flesh of her inner calf. Gwen closed her eyes and moaned. He worked his way down, spreading her legs and lowering himself until her knees rested on his shoulders.
“Richard,” she breathed, lifting her hips.
“Is this what you want, love?” He kissed her fiery thatch of curls.
“Yes, yes…”
“Then look at me. Watch me while I love you this way.”
Gwen did as he commanded. It was exciting, erotic, to see his dark head between her legs.
“I have missed you,” he said. “The scent of you, the taste of you…”
Gwen shuddered. The things he did to her, the way he made her quiver inside! Lord God, she would do anything for this man, anything at all.
He pleasured her with his mouth, slowly, exquisitely. She watched him, crying out “I love you!” at the height of her climax.
He straightened. “Help me out of this armor before I explode.”
Gwen fumbled with the buckles and straps, frantic to release him. His fingers were no surer than hers, and it took an interminable amount of time to get him out of the hauberk and leggings.
Gwen pulled his gambeson and tunic off while he tugged at the laces to his braies. He didn’t take the time to pull them off, just shoved them down and pushed her back on the blanket.
“I cannot wait any longer,” he said, his gaze locking with hers as he positioned himself between her legs. Despite the urgency of his tone, he entered her slowly.
Gwen held her breath, reveling in the feel of him. He was so huge and so hard, filling her in a way she’d craved for all the months they’d been apart.
“I am afraid,” he said, gritting his teeth. “’Tis been so long and I am afraid of hurting you. I want you too much to be gentle.”
“I do not want gentleness,” Gwen said. “I want you. Do not hold back, Richard.”
Her words freed him. Richard thrust into her, hard, deep. He couldn’t stop himself now if he wanted. “I have dreamed of you, of this moment,” he said in her ear. “You did not have to make me vow to be faithful, cariad. I want no one but you.”
“I love you,” she cried.
The last of his control shredded, and he found himself driving into her so hard they sprawled off the blanket and into the grass.
When release finally came, he collapsed on her, shuddering.
She smoothed his sweat-dampened hair from his forehead, sighing contentedly. When he found the energy, he rolled onto his back and threw his arm across his brow. “You have killed me,” he said.
Her warm lips nuzzled his chest, trailed down his abdomen. His manhood stirred. “Nay, you are not dead yet,” she said against his skin, cupping the growing length of him. “You are very much alive, I would say.”
Richard groaned. “The rest of my body disagrees.”
But he had to admit being within her again was worth the effort it would take. He pulled her on top of him. “I cannot stop you from taking advantage of me,” he said.
Strangely enough, his energy surged anew. When her inner muscles spasmed, he tumbled over the edge with her, shooting his seed into her with such force he knew he would not be able to move for quite some time.
But as she lay on top of him, kissing his neck, her sheath quivering around him, he hardened. She lifted her head, her eyes widening. “Again?”
Richard grinned. “Oh yes, again. I cannot get enough of you. I will never get enough of you.”
Her legs wrapped around him and he pressed his lips to her throat, professing his undying love over and over.
When he had made love to her for a fourth time, he lay on top of her, catching his breath and glorying in the feel of her. He had to leave again in a fortnight, this time to Shrewsbury for Dafydd’s trial. But he would not tell her just yet.
“I believe I will have some of that wine now, cariad. Do you want some?”
She mumbled something unintelligible and he lifted up to look at her. Her lashes fanned across her pale skin. Her mouth, ripe and swollen from his kisses, was soft in sleep. She turned her face to the side and he kissed her temple and cheek, then gently nibbled her earlobe.
She swatted at him. He laughed softly, then left her and went to get the wine. When he returned, he gathered her against him, his hands roaming over her body of their own accord before sleep claimed him as well.
William’s laughter reached the solar before his father’s footsteps. Gwen was helping Alys to embroider her wedding gown when she heard it. She looked up as Richard ducked through the doorway, a giggling child clinging to him.
“Richard! ’Tis too high up!” she cried. “You will make him sick.”
William perched on Richard’s shoulders, hands firmly entwined in his father’s hair. Both of her men looked at her like she had lost her wits.
“’Tis not, Gwen. Besides, he loves it.” Richard smiled. Gwen heaved a sigh. It didn’t matter which of them it was—all either of them had to do was smile and she was as malleable as dough.
They were a handsome pair. Looking at them together, it was hard to believe Richard had been so wary of his son at first. William had taken to his father immediately, but Richard had been afraid to even hold him.
It was over a sennight since Richard had come home. After he’d made love to her in the garden that day, they’d retired to their chamber and spent time with their son. He wouldn’t hold the baby when Gwen urged him and she’d finally gotten him to admit his fear.
It still brought a smile to her lips. Her big, powerful, warrior husband had been frightened of a tiny babe. No longer, though.
He walked to the windowseat and bent over, depositing William on the cushions. Alys and Gwen exchanged a look as Richard fussed over his son.
Alys covered a smile. “Sometimes ’tis harder to decide which of them is more adorable,” she whispered.
Gwen nodded, biting her lip to hide her own smile.
Alys cleared her throat. “I believe I forgot to do something, my lady. If you will excuse me.”
“Of course, Alys.”
The old woman winked as she gathered her dress and left the room.
Gwen crossed to the windowseat. Richard sat on the floor while William crawled over the cushions. She stood beside Richard, entwining her fingers in his hair. He looked up and smiled. “Sometimes I look at him and I cannot believe we made him.”
“Aye, ’tis the same for me,” she said softly.
He pulled her into his lap and kissed her. William screamed. Richard broke away. “What is wrong with him?”
Gwen frowned. “He likes to be the center of attention.”
“You have spoiled him.”
It was true, but Gwen was indignant anyway. “And you have not?”
“I have not been home long enough!”
“Yes, well who is it who carries him on their shoulders? Or took him for a ride on Sirocco? Which I might add I did not approve of!”
“And who let him sleep with us when he awoke crying?” Richard demanded.
“It was only once!”
As if on cue, William started crying. Gwen stood and picked him up. He cried harder. “Now see what you have done?”
“I have not done anything!”
William stretched his arms toward his father. Gwen walked away, rocking him, soothing him with soft words. His chubby face was red, his screams growing louder.
“Give him to me,” Richard said softly.
She turned and William reached for his father. She let him go. The baby quieted almost instantly, his screams turning to hiccoughs. He sniffled and buried his face against Richard’s surcoat.
Gwen viewed the whole exchange with mixed emotions. On the one hand, she felt as if her son didn’t need her. On the other, she was more than pleased he needed his father.
Richard sank into the windowseat and lay back, settling William on his chest. Within minutes, the baby fell asleep, his thumb in his mouth while Richard rubbed his back.
“You are right,” Gwen said. “I have spoiled him. I do not know how to say him nay.”