The Penwyth Curse (Medieval Song 6)

, pushed Brecia’s heavy hair away, and nibbled on her ear.

She turned quickly, laughing, and grabbed him. “This is madness, prince. It’s magic, what you make me feel so quickly.”

“No,” he said, his mouth against hers, “it’s us. Just us.”

She laughed as she squeezed him tightly against her. “Then why can I streak my fingers through a cloud?”

Present

Penwyth Castle

Bishop felt a bolt of lust so great he nearly fell out of his chair. He didn’t understand, but he didn’t care, not a whit. He lifted Merryn’s hair away and nibbled her earlobe. She turned, laughing. “What is this, my lord?”

In the next breath, she was looking at his mouth, breathing hard, and pushing out of her chair to get closer to him. Her eyes were nearly crossed, she was trying so hard to kiss him anywhere she could reach.

It didn’t matter that the great hall was filled with people, that conversations were slowing, stopping, as their people stared toward the dais. Nothing mattered but that they have each other. Fast.

Bishop couldn’t stand it, couldn’t wait another second. He leapt up from his chair, grabbed his wife, who he happily saw was in as bad shape as he was, and dragged her across the great hall, but only for a couple of steps. She was soon running beside him. The racket of so many voices raised in laughter didn’t really touch them. All is well, Bishop thought as he raced up the stairs to their bedchamber, Merryn breathing hard beside him. Aye, all is well everywhere.

And in every time.