Page 53

“Yes,” he breathed. “No. I want you to take off your shift.”

Gunnilde straightened up and pulled her shift up over her head, discarding it over the side of the bed.

“Is this better?” she asked archly, covering her breasts with her hands.

Well, the nipples at least. Her breasts were too large to be confined by her palms. The sight had his cock straining against his braies.

“Come back here,” he entreated. “I want to feel you in my arms again.”

Carefully, she lowered herself back on top of him, and he drew the blankets up around her at once, caressing her back. “It’s a shame to obscure the view,” he murmured, “but I should not want you to grow cold.”

“James, if I squash the breath out of you, you must tell me,” she fretted.

“Trust me, I’m a good deal stronger than you imagine,” he soothed her, his hands sliding forward to cup and fondle her heavy breasts. “ Gods. Your breasts, Gunnilde.”

“Yes?”

“They are so wondrously abundant.”

“Hmmm.”

“You have no notion how they tortured me in the early days of our marriage!” he admitted raggedly as he plumped and made out their shape.

“Tortured?” She sounded startled.

“Aye, for every time you undressed for bed, I could see their outline in your shift.”

“Ohhh,” she whimpered faintly as he pinched and rolled her nipples. “Did you wish to make free with them, as you do now?” she whispered.

“ Gods , I could scarcely imagine such a state of affairs where I could be so fortunate. That I could be so privileged...” He shook his head. “I would ne’er have believed it possible.”

“What did you imagine, then?” she enquired breathlessly, pushing her breasts further into his hands. He made a noise of appreciation deep in his throat.

“You brushing them against me in the night,” he admitted hoarsely, glad it was dark. “And my spilling in my braies at the barest, featherlight touch...” He swallowed. “I could have, you know.”

“James,” she whispered. “Would you like to touch me somewhere else?” The words hung for a moment between them as James sucked in his breath.

“Gods, yes.” Swiftly he rolled her onto her back. Gunnilde made a sound of protest to surrender the uppermost position, but as soon as he had his fingers between her legs, she gasped and widened her thighs to give him access. “You’re so wet,” he told her gruffly. “Gods, Gunnilde.”

“Oh James.” She gave a little sob, arching into his hand.

James felt his chest pound. Breathe , he reminded himself as he petted and rubbed her glistening folds. “There?” He circled the little nub of flesh. “Tell me, sweeting, so I know what pleases you.”

She inhaled sharply. “Yes, James! Oh yes !” His heart swelled as her legs tensed and shook before she collapsed with a cry, limp and sated against the mattress.

He crowded closer to kiss her brow, her cheeks, her pretty mouth.

“Was that nice?” Suddenly it was imperative that he heard her say so.

He felt her lips curve into a smile, even as he kissed the corners.

“Oh yes,” she murmured languorously. “And now ’tis your turn.” She let her thighs fall apart to accommodate him. “You will remember to breathe though, won’t you?” He nodded. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said, stripping off his braies.

Gods, he’d have to concentrate though...

The sight and feel of her, even in the shadowy bedchamber.

She was all warm to his touch, no doubt flushed and rosy.

He had not thought to bring candles into the bedchamber as there had been light enough when they had entered.

Now though, he wished he’d had the forethought.

Darkness fell thick and fast at this time of year.

“James?”

“Mmm?”

“Come here.” Apparently, he was not moving fast enough. He lowered himself into her open arms. “Can I kiss you?”

His heart stuttered. “Yes, of course.”

“You’re not too close?”

“No,” he asserted, for it turned out the witch was right.

Practice was helping him build up a resistance to pleasure.

His lips found hers, and they exchanged kisses, which started out wet and lingering and then turned increasingly frantic, at least on his behalf.

He tore his mouth from hers. “Gunnilde—”

“Yes, yes, all is well,” she urged him on. “Do not delay. Not on my account.”

Thankfully, he reached down to set his cockhead at her glistening entrance and without more ado, started the slide home.

Gunnilde’s breath hitched, and he felt her palm come to rest over his heart.

Its pounding must reassure her , he thought as he pushed his way inside her, by exquisite increments until, finally, he was fully sheathed in her welcoming depths.

He let out a shaky groan and filled his lungs with air. “Gunnilde,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“Do not pass out, I beg you.”

“Pass out?” He gave a shaky laugh. “Nay, I could not bear to miss a single instant spent in the paradise of this body.”

Gunnilde gasped beneath him as he started to move, though whether it was from his words alone or his actions, he could not say.

“James,” she whimpered moments later as the momentum built.

“I’m breathing,” he promised through clenched teeth. “I’m pacing myself.”

“Oh!” Her hands flew to clasp his sides. The bed jolted as she started moving beneath him, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck,” he wheezed.

“James, don’t you dare!” she shrilled. “Oh, don’t you dare to stop now!”

Stop? Why the hells would he stop? The whining noises she was making were making him quite frantic.

She clutched his arse, dragging his body closer still, urging him on.

He grabbed the back of her knee, shoving it out, pressing it into the mattress, so he could get closer, deeper, he could not get enough of her.

“Oh, James!” she cried out, and he felt her body’s tight clasp of him clench and convulse, precipitating his own violent release. This time though, he did not black out. Just held on for dear life and rode out the wave of almost unbearable rapture that broke over him.

He slumped over Gunnilde, breathing hard. “Are you—?”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes.”

Gathering her in his arms, he pressed ardent kisses to her neck and shoulder, more words quite frankly beyond him at this point.