Fire Song (Medieval Song 2)

“We should have brought some wine and bread.”

“Kassia,” he said suddenly, “how do you feel?”

“My lord,” she scolded him lightly, “I am as healthy as my fat Bluebell. You needn’t concern yourself further!”

“Are you sore?”

“Sore?” She cocked her head to the side, a habit she had that he found charming.

“From last night,” he said.

“Oh!” She pressed her hands against her cheeks and shook her head.

“As I said,” Graelam continued calmly, “this is a very private place. No one will disturb us here.”

She looked utterly taken aback. “You wish to . . . couple with me now?”

“Aye,” he said baldly.

“But it is daylight! You can see . . . Surely you cannot—!”

“Hush, Kassia,” he said. “Come here.”

She had not considered that her husband would wish to take her again so soon. She supposed that one coupled occasionally, when the man wished it, but . . . “I feel so stupid,” she said, and stepped against him, her head lowered against his chest.

She felt his arms go around her, pulling her more closely against him. “Why do you say that?” he said, lightly kissing the soft curls over her temple.

“You will laugh at me, I know it,” she muttered. She raised her face and felt an odd longing course through her as she stared up into her husband’s dark eyes. “I d

id not believe that one coupled frequently. Perhaps just once, to create a babe.”

He looked startled; then he squeezed her tightly until she squeaked. “Creating a babe, Kassia, usually takes a lot of effort. It is a task that most men willingly seek. And, dearling, it will be up to me to make you want to couple too, quite often.”

She looked doubtful, but did not further question him, particularly when he lowered his mouth to hers. She stood passively against him, embarrassingly aware of his large hands stroking down her back to cup beneath her buttocks. Now that she knew about a man’s desire, she knew from his hardness against her belly that he wanted her. She remembered Blanche’s taunts about Graelam sleeping with other women. If a man was always so eager to couple, was a woman, any woman, merely a convenience?

Graelam released her and gently set her aside. She watched him silently as he spread two thick blankets on the ground and smoothed them out.

Never, Graelam thought again, had he approached coupling with less enthusiasm. He was well aware that Kassia had not responded to him and it made him grind his teeth. Damn her, she could have at least pretended! On the heels of that thought, he quickly retrenched. No, he wanted no acting from her. Indeed, he was pleased that she was too ignorant to feign pleasure. It meant that when he brought her to pleasure, he would know it. Patience, he reminded himself.

He sat down on the blanket and patted the place beside him, then leaned back on his elbows and watched her approach warily and slowly.

When she eased down beside him, he did not touch her. He was surprised when she said hesitantly, “Have you known many women, my lord?”

“There is one more that I would know,” he said. He turned on his side to face her and gently drew her down onto her back. “This morning, you were not afraid of me. You were, if I am not mistaken, quite pleased with yourself over sharing my bed, over becoming a wife to me.”

“Aye, ’tis true,” she admitted, frowning at his ease in reading her thoughts. “And I do not believe that I have ever really feared you, my lord.”

“When all I wish to do is give you pleasure, it is foolish for you to do so.” He was lightly stroking her hand as he spoke. Very slowly he eased his fingers over her belly and began to gently knead her.

Kassia had closed her eyes and she knew the moment he leaned his head over hers, for he blotted out the sun. Unconsciously she ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them. She heard him suck in his breath, then felt his lips, gentle and undemanding, explore hers. He did not have to tell her to part her lips. She felt an unaccountable urge to do so. He did not ravish her mouth, merely teased her with his tongue, lightly foraging, taunting her gently.

Kassia wanted to feel more. Without thought, she raised her arm and pressed her hand along the back of his neck and pressed down. He deepened the pressure and the odd, tingly sensations she had felt briefly the night before coursed through her.

“Oh,” she whispered into his mouth. He lifted his head and smiled down at her. “Please, my lord, do not stop.”

His fingers were pressed together, lightly resting in a wedge between her thighs. “What do you want me to do, Kassia?”

Her hips jerked upward against his hand, and she blushed at what her body had done. “Everything!” she gasped.