Fire Song (Medieval Song 2) - Page 112

She smoothed the bedcovers under her shaking hands. “Nay,” she said quietly. “I have missed you,” she blurted out.

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sp; His heat shot up. She saw the gleam of pleasure in his dark eyes before he quickly made his expression impassive. “Why?” he asked bluntly.

He stood by the bed, naked, his eyes intent upon her face.

“I do not want strife between us, Graelam,” she whispered, trying not to gaze so hungrily at his body.

But she failed, and he knew it. “You know what I demand from you,” he said as he slipped into bed beside her.

“Aye, I know.” Do not cry, you stupid fool! “You said you would forgive me.”

“I will forgive you,” he said, his voice flat and cold.

“Then it was as you believe.”

He felt a searing wave of contempt at himself, and a surge of disappointment as well. He had wanted her to admit her quilt, admit that she had hired Dienwald de Fortenberry and given him the necklace, but facing the fact of her doing it made him almost physically ill. He rose on his elbow beside her and gazed down into her pale face. He saw tears shimmering in her eyes.

“I told you I would forgive you if you but spoke the truth. Why do you cry?”

I am so lonely! I cannot bear my loneliness! I will gladly take whatever part of you you wish to give me.

She could think of nothing to say to him. With a small, helpless cry, she flung herself against him, wrapping her arms about his back and burrowing her face against his shoulder.

“So,” he said, his bitterness sounding in his voice, “it is my body you wish.” He felt her soft mouth pressing light kisses against his chest.

“Please,” she whispered, “no more anger. I can bear no more anger from you.”

“It is not anger I feel for you now, Kassia. I will give you your woman’s pleasure, and we will speak no more about the past.” He gently pressed her onto her back and drew the covers down to her waist. Her heart was pounding so loudly she thought he must hear it. She felt his eyes roving over her body, and it both alarmed and excited her.

“Your breasts seem fuller,” he said. Very gently he stroked a fingertip around a pink nipple. She sucked in her breath.

“You do not find me . . . too skinny?”

Oh no, he thought, stifling an angry laugh. I find you all that I want. “You are fine,” he said. He lowered his head and gently kissed her. His hand slipped under the covers and began kneading her soft belly. “I like the feel of you.”

“Please, Graelam,” she gasped, lurching upward as his fingers probed lower.

His fingers touched her soft, moist swollen flesh. “You are so delicate,” he said into her mouth. “And you are ready for me.” She felt his fingers deepen their primitive rhythm.

Kassia was shuddering with need. “Please, love me. I cannot bear it.”

To her surprise, Graelam rolled onto his back and brought her with him. “I would have you ride me,” he said, laughing softly at her uncertain expression.

She felt him deep inside her, felt his hands about her waist, lifting her and lowering her. “Draw up your legs,” he instructed her. “You may move over me as you wish.”

Kassia had never imagined that such feelings could come from her body. When his fingers found her, she lost all hold on reason and cried out, her head thrown back, her back arched.

She vaguely heard him gasp her name, felt his fingers tense over her even as her body convulsed in the almost painful pleasure. He was deep inside her when she felt his seed filling her. She fell forward, her mind emptied of all regret and pain, holding now only the aftermath of complete belonging.

Graelam held her close to him and gently straightened her legs. She fell asleep, covering his body, her hand nestled in the hollow of his throat. He stroked her tousled hair and tried to close his mind to its tortured thoughts.

It is not enough, Kassia thought, aware yet again that Graelam was watching her, his expression brooding. He wants to hate me, but his honor keeps him to his promise. She wanted to shriek and cry at the same time, but she could not. She had done it to herself, and must now live with it.

He continued to be kind to her. At night she could imagine that he loved her as he gently took her body. She was so aware of him that if his eyes darkened, her body leapt in response. And he knew it. She wondered if he hated her for that too.

It is time to concentrate, Kassia, she told herself. She urged Bluebell forward into a gentle gallop, drew back the bow, and released the arrow at the target. It hit the center, and she turned in the saddle at Evian’s shout of congratulation.

Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical
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