Rosehaven (Medieval Song 5) - Page 100

She whirled about so quickly she fell on her bottom. She had pulled up a primrose by accident he had startled her so. “Oh, dear, I would not have picked it so soon. But still, it is very lovely.” She began stroking the primrose as if she were its lover. Severin stared at that damned flower and felt his loins tighten. She stared up at him. “I don’t wish to be punished, Severin. I wish you would go off and fight with one of our neighbors or join the king against the Scots or the Welsh. Surely that would take your mind off me.”

He appeared to ponder that quite seriously. “There are no enemies right now of any count. Aye, you’re right, long stretches of peace are difficult. Do not you fear that I might fall in a battle?”

She hadn’t thought of that when the words jumped out of her mouth. “Nay, I do not wish you to get hurt. I might not be near enough to you to heal you.”

“It pleases me that you do not want me dead.”

“You are known. Why would I prefer the unknown?”

He pictured another man as her husband. It didn’t please Severin, particularly if he were dead. “You have spoken all around the core of the apple, Hastings. It must be done. Do not try to dissuade me.”

“No, I shan’t try that. You are more single-minded than Gilbert the goat. Ah, you have the rope, Severin?”

He shook his head. “Nay, my father always said that a man should not repeat his punishments. To use your own words, it is the matter of the known as opposed to the unknown. The fear of a punishment diminishes if it is known. Damn you, Hastings. Don’t you dare pretend that I’m abusing you. You know that I put off punishing you until after the stitches were cut out of you. You know that you deserve it. You escaped Oxborough, put yourself in grave danger, and wasted my time finding you.”

“That is my biggest crime, is it not? Wasting your valuable time?”

“Give over, Hastings. I will not allow you to anger me, not today.”

“Why not today? Perhaps you are riding with Marjorie? Mayhap to the beach where you can discuss the future? You want to be certain that your bile is sweet and gently flowing?”

How did she know what Marjorie had said? Alice, doubtless Alice had overheard them. He shook his head and lightly laid his hand on her shoulder. “No, I do not have the time. I asked her if she would like Gwent to accompany her, but she refused. I suppose I must speak to her soon, however.”

He did not sound like a man so smitten by passion that his eyes were nearly crossed with it. No, he merely sounded harassed. May

hap Alice had been right. Mayhap the love potion didn’t work. She brightened. Mayhap their plan would also work. She was still a bit taken aback that it was her mother-in-law who had decided upon this particular advanced strategy. She had no particular faith in it, but she would try. By Saint Ethelbert’s elbows, she would certainly enjoy trying. She was more adept now. She knew what to do. There would be no fumbling about, no guessing. She would know quickly enough if it was working.

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself when I am trying to decide on how to punish you?”

She lightly stroked the primrose against her cheek. Like the softest velvet, she thought. Rich enough for the king himself. She looked up at him through her lashes. “I enjoyed your mouth on me last night, Severin.”

He froze to the spot. He was staring at her mouth.

“Aye, and when you came inside me and I pushed my hips up against you, you came deeper and deeper. You made me want to weep with the pleasure that you—my husband and known to me—gave me.”

He ran his tongue over his lips. He was still staring at her mouth. “You are with child,” he said finally.

“Aye, were I not, then I would be now. You were inside of me, Severin, inside my body, touching my womb. It is a feeling that makes me want to hold you even now and stroke you with my hands and bring you into me again. I am truly sorry that you have no time.”

“By Saint Eggbert’s nose, you will kill me with your thoughts. Nay, continue to think, it will not harm me, but perhaps it isn’t wise for you to speak your thoughts aloud. What did you say you wanted me to do to you?”

“It’s what I want to do to you. Let me touch you with my mouth again just as you touched me last night. Remember when I held you in my hand and wouldn’t let you go?”

He actually shook as she spoke. “Aye, I remember. I would have laughed had I not hurt so much. I remember that first time you took me into your mouth. It”—he swallowed, feeling awash with lust—“pleased me.”

She rose slowly, gently laying the primrose against his chest. She pressed herself against him. She slipped her hand between them and found him. He was already hard as the wooden stake that held up her irises.

She outlined him with her fingers. “I should like to do that again, Severin. Soon now, very soon.”

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He thought he’d die. “Do what exactly?”

“My hands on you, my mouth on you, everything.”

He grabbed her wrist. He pulled her hand away, but he didn’t want to. By Saint Elbert’s toes, he didn’t want to. “Many of our people are doubtless watching.”

She leaned up on her tiptoes, whispering into his mouth, her hands clasped behind his neck, “Take me into the forest and punish me as you will there.”

His dark blue eyes dilated.

Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical
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