Fire Song (Medieval Song 2)

Never, he thought, somewhat dazed himself, had he seen such a look of disappointment on a woman’s face. Woman. Aye, he thought, tonight he would make her a woman. As he watched her move shakily back to her chair, he wondered if she wouldn’t attack him before the game was through.

He continued to study her as she regained her wits and gazed at the board. He remembered, with some pain, how she had been so open and trusting of him before he had forced her. Would she admit the truth to him once he regained her trust? He wanted her to beg him to take her. His jaw tightened, and the next kiss he gave her was quick and passionless.

After some fifteen more minutes, Kassia had lost all but her king and two pawns.

“An exciting game,” Graelam said. “I am tired,” he continued, rising and stretching. “I wish to go to bed.” He saw her look warily at him, but ignored it. “Unless you wish for another game?”

“Nay,” she said quickly, plucking nervously at the folds of her gown.

“One final kiss for the winner. Come here, Kassia.”

She walked slowly toward him, her eyes never leaving his face. He gathered her gently to him, leaned down, and lightly touched her lips. She parted her lips without any instruction from him, and despite his intentions, his hands stroked down her back to cup around her buttocks. He drew her up until her belly was pressed against his swollen manhood. She wrapped her arms about his neck, unthinking now, only feeling. And wanting to feel more, much more. “Please,” she whispered.

“Please what?” he asked, molding her more tightly against him, his fingers caressing the curve of her hips.

“I . . . I don’t know.”

Her voice was nearly a wail.

“And if I give you what you want, will you finally admit the truth to me?”

She stared up at him blankly; then her face flooded with color, and her arms fell away from him.

If he could have kicked himself, he would have. She was stiff and cold and withdrawn.

“Come to bed,” he said harshly, and turned away from her.

He lay on his back, staring up into the darkness. He heard her sobbing in harsh little gasps, and imagined that she had stuffed her fist into her mouth. He listened until he could bear it no longer.

“Kassia,” he said softly. “Come here. I promise I will not hurt you.”

He waited patiently until she rolled toward him. He drew her into his arms, feeling the wet of her tears against his chest.

Her sobs eased as he gently stroked her back.

“I will say nothing more about it,” he said finally.

But you will never believe me!

“I want to come inside you, Kassia. I don’t think I can hold back another night.”

He felt her quiver at his words, but he did not know whether it was in fear or in anticipated pleasure. He had spoken the truth. His body was aching for release. He quickly pulled off her bedrobe and groaned with the pleasure of her naked body against his.

“You are so small, so delicate,” he whispered against her temple as his hands stroked over her breasts and belly. “Part your legs, Kassia.”

She felt his finger ease inside her and her muscles clenched convulsively. “You are ready for me,” he said. When he withdrew his finger, she felt her own wetness against her belly.

He wanted to caress her, to make her cry out for him, but his body was wound tight as a bowstring. When she moved against him, he thought he would lose control. “I cannot wait,” he gasped, and moved between her legs. Gently he eased inside her, feeling her stretch for him, feeling himself slide easily into her. He moaned at the unbelievable sensation, and thrust his full length into her. He leaned over her, cupping her face in his hands. He wished he could see her eyes. “Am I hurting you?” he asked softly into her mouth.

She shook her head. “It feels . . . odd.” Actually, she thought, as he moved slowly over her, if coupling were always this way, it was quite bearable. The thought was surprising, but more surprising was the slow ache that was building low in her belly, separate from him, yet also a part of him.

“Graelam, I . . .” Her voice suspended in bewilderment when he thrust his tongue into her mouth, just as his manhood was delving deeply into her belly. The urgent heat was building deep within her, and she moved beneath him, arching her back upward, her arms tight around his waist.

“Kassia, do not!” But it was too late. He could no longer hold back. He moaned raggedly, deep in his throat, and thrust into her. For an instant, as she felt his seed explode within her, filling her, she felt a pounding need to respond. But as he quieted over her, the need slowly faded, leaving her vaguely disappointed, not knowing what it was that she sought.

She stroked her hands over his back, kneading the thick hard muscles, enjoying the feel of his man’s body. She heard his breathing slow, felt his body relaxing over her. His weight was great, but she did not mind. No, she thought drowsily, coupling was not too bad. It didn’t hurt.

Graelam raised himself on his elbows and looked down at her shadowed face. He knew he had moved too quickly, that she had not gained a woman’s release. He cursed softly at his loss of control. She stiffened.