Fire Song (Medieval Song 2)

Graelam laughed, a pure, deep sound, and hugged her against him. “You are too warm,” he said, and began to unfasten her tunic. She squirmed against him, unable to help herself. His movements were smooth and fast, and soon she was lying beneath him in naught but her thin linen shift.

For a long moment he merely stared down at her, his eyes roving from her face downward until they came to rest at her belly. Slowly he lifted her shift until she was naked to her waist. He did not mean to think her beautiful, but oddly enough, he found her so. Her legs were long and straight; he touched his hand to her white flesh and gently stroked downward. It was rare that he spent so much time seducing a woman, but he realized vaguely that somehow his own pleasure was tied to hers. Slowly, gently, he continued exploring her, then parted her thighs with his fingers. Her warm moistness made him smile triumphantly. Kassia trembled as his fingers neared the soft, hidden seat of her pleasure. But instead of giving her what she wanted, he rose suddenly and jerked off his clothes. Nearby he laid down a small jar of cream, not letting her see it.

“Sit up,” he said.

She did as he bid. He slipped her shift over her head, then pressed her again onto her back. He lay beside her, the heat of his body making her quiver, and let his fingers rove again over her belly. He kissed her, letting her deepen the pressure. He felt her hands frantically clutching at his back.

“Kassia,” he said softly, “I would love you now, and you will not say me nay, nor will you feel embarrassment or guilt.”

She stared up at him vaguely, not understanding, only knowing that her body was somehow an instrument she didn’t control. He watched her carefully as his fingers caressed her. When he dipped his fingers into the cream and slowly entered her, she gasped, her eyes flying to his face. She grasped his arm, but he merely eased more deeply into her, soothing her, easing his way.

His fingers pressed against her maidenhead, but not hard enough to hurt her. Her muscles tensed around his fingers, and he groaned at the thought of her doing that to his manhood. Damn, he thought vaguely, he had not felt such lust since he was an untried boy. He lowered himself over her, careful not to hurt her with his weight, and slowly eased down her body until he was on his knees between her parted thighs. She tried to jerk away from him when he nuzzled his face against her, but he merely tightened his hold, drawing her hips upward.

Despite what he had said, she felt consumed with embarrassment, her rising passion crushed. Surely he should not be doing that to her, not with his mouth! She tried to wriggle away from him, but he held her firm.

“Give in, Kassia,” he said, his warm breath touching her intimately. “Relax.”

Graelam teased her soft woman’s flesh, willing her to respond to him, but she did not. Time, he thought, it would take time to make her at ease with him. His lips left her reluctantly, and he felt desire roaring in his head. The softness of her, the sweet taste of her, her woman’s scent made him wild to bury himself deep within her. Slowly he parted her thighs and eased into her. The cream soothed his way.

He kept his eyes on her face. “Kassia,” he said, holding himself perfectly still.

Kassia felt the pressure of him inside her, but there was no pain, only a fullness that was not at all unpleasant. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him.

“Sweeting, I must cause you bit of . . . discomfort. Hold onto me. It will be over quickly.”

She clasped her hands around his back obediently not understanding. He tore through her taut maidenhead, seating himself to his hilt within her. He took her cry of pain into his mouth. Her body was quivering, but he knew he could not leave her, not again. He kissed away her tears, trying to concentrate on her, to keep himself in check. But it was no use. He moved slightly, feeling the tight sheath squeezing him, and that brought him over the edge. He possessed her, driving deep, rasping groans coming from his mouth.

It was many minutes before Graelam raised himself on his elbows and gazed down into her pale face. “You are mine now,” he said, and generations of possessiveness sounded in his deep, hoarse voice.

“Why did you hurt me?”

He kissed her lightly on her mouth, a slight smile curving his lips. “You were still a virgin, sweetheart.”

She blinked at him. “But last night . . . you came inside me, you . . .”

He carefully eased out of her and lay on his side beside her. “Last night,” he said slowly, “I did not finish what I started. I could not, for I was hurting you too much. That is why I brought you here today. I wanted to get the damned business over with. Kassia, did you feel any pleasure?”

She nodded.

“When next we couple, there will be only pleasure, I promise you. Will you trust me?”

“How can there be pleasure?” she managed, her eyes fastened on his chest. “You are large and will remain so.”

“ ’Twas the rending of your maidenhead that caused most of the pain, and now I promise you it is no longer there. That small barrier did not wish to allow a man within.”

“Even my husband?”

He smiled, relieved. “We will use cream until you are well used to me.”

He was stroking her tumbled hair and she turned her face to nuzzle her cheek against his palm. “Did I please you? I am so ignorant. I do not know what to do.”

“You pleased me. You will respond to me, Kassia, once you forget your embarrassment.”

“Do I not need skill, my lord?”

He thought of her killing hold on his manhood the night before, and grinned ruefully. “Aye,” he said, “I will teach you.”

“When?”