Medieval Brides. Anne Herries
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‘Cross-gartering,’ he said, trying out the words. ‘Cecily?’
‘Mmm?’
‘We don’t need cross-gartering either.’
‘Oh.’ She moved to unwind his leg-bindings, and as she did so her breasts shifted to peep out of the low-cut shift. Adam groaned, and leaned forwards to press a swift kiss on the scented warmth of her breast. She made a small sound, part-gasp, part-sigh. Her fingers stumbled over his bindings, then resumed.
‘That’s it, Princess.’
‘Princess?’
Adam’s cheeks burned. ‘That’s what you look like out of your convent habit—a princess, a Saxon princess.’ Taking his leg-bindings from her, he dropped them onto the floor, and reached for her hips. ‘My princess.’
He kissed her nose and her mouth and her body melted into his. Pressing closer, he let her feel the desire his body felt for hers. She moaned. Innocent, yes, but not cold. A maid, but not an ice maiden.
Taking one small hand, he pushed it under his tunic to the ties of his hose. ‘Help me. We definitely don’t need my hose or my braies.’ Her cheeks went scarlet, but she tugged at the ties of his hose and pushed the fabric of both garments down.
Adam sat up and made a point of lifting the hem of his tunic.
‘W-we don’t need that?’
‘No. Too hot,’ he said. ‘It is a furnace in here.’ He held up his arms, and after a brief pause she hauled his tunic up and over his head.
She drew back, eyeing his shirt. It was now his only remaining garment, as the shift was hers. Wrapping her arms across her chest, she frowned at him. ‘Adam, you agreed we’d keep some clothes…’
With a grin, Adam turned away long enough to blow out the candle on the bedside coffer. ‘Blow out your candle, if you please.’
Still frowning, she pinched out her candle, and became at once a shadowy figure, vaguely outlined by the soft glow of the braziers. Her hair gleamed pale gold through the dark.
Adam swallowed down a lump, and guided her hands to his shirt. ‘Cecily, we really don’t need this…’
Her breath came out in a shuddering sigh, and there was another pause during which Adam could hear the drums below, could feel the blood pounding in his veins. His manhood ached.
She tugged off his shirt.
‘And now you,’ he whispered. ‘Let the darkness clothe you, Princess.’
Moving closer, he brought his head to hers, raining kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, her mouth, quickly, quickly, hoping that in her innocence she would be distracted and not notice how his hands were running down over her hips, nor how they were tugging at the silk undergown, lifting…
‘There,’ he said, a note of triumph in his voice, as finally the silk undergown joined his tunic and shirt on the rush matting. ‘That didn’t hurt, did it?’
‘N-no. But, Adam!’ She gave a shaky laugh. ‘You promised!’
He silenced her with a kiss, and brought his naked body to hers. As flesh met flesh, both of them gasped. Trembling in his eagerness, Adam eased her onto her back. ‘Oh, Cecily, the feel of you—so soft, so…’
In the glow of the braziers Adam could see more of her than she most likely realised. Her skin was creamy, her breasts high and firm. Her eyes looked dark, dazed. She was the most beautiful creature in the world. Burying his face in her neck, he let his hand drift down over her breast. Immediately her nipple peaked under his fingers.
‘Adam!’
Her voice contained shock, but no displeasure. And that nipple was a temptation he could not resist. Smiling, he kissed a path down her shoulder and over her breast, so that he could take it deep into his mouth.
‘Adam!’ Her hands were in his hair, stroking, caressing, holding him to her. She liked it. She liked it…One small hand was sliding under his armpit, tugging him back up, urging his mouth back to her.
‘Adam…’
Her mouth opened under his and she continued to move restively under him. Her scent filled his nostrils, more intoxicating than any wine, and her hands slid down his sides. When she pressed him to her, and thrust her hips instinctively at him, Adam heard himself moan. ‘Sweetheart, yes…’
‘Show me, Adam. Show me what to do.’ Her hand was inching round to his front, but it was too much, too soon. He felt ready to burst. If he was not careful it would be over in seconds. Catching her hand, he eased away and set it back on his waist.
‘Adam?’
‘Not yet, love,’ he muttered, quivering with tension. ‘You will spoil it.’
‘Adam?’ Her breath caught and she turned her head away, her voice small. ‘You don’t like me touching you?’
Gently he brought her head round and kissed her. ‘No—on the contrary, I like it too much. You…you excite me.’
In the dim light of the braziers her eyes went wide. ‘I do?’
Clearing his throat, he gave a shaky laugh. ‘Too much, I fear. You unman me, Cecily.’
‘I…I don’t understand.’
‘Here.’ He kissed her cheek and her collarbone. ‘This first time, let us start with me pleasuring you.’
There were questions in her eyes, but he settled his lips at her breast and ran his fingers over the silky skin at her sides and down her thighs. They parted at his lightest touch, and when his fingers found her secret woman’s place she made a sound that was part-gasp, part-moan.
‘That’s…Oh! Adam, that’s…Yes, that. Adam, don’t stop, please…’
She was making tiny incoherent sounds—sounds that made him think he could wait no longer. Gritting his teeth, fighting his own instincts—instincts that were prompting him to roll onto her and push himself deep, deep inside—Adam kissed, he stroked, he teased, he caressed. He kept reminding himself that his bride was innocent, that she was a virgin, but it was hard for him to remember because she was panting, her breath coming in short gasps, and all the while she clung to him.
‘Adam—Adam, please.’
His innocent wife’s nails were gouging holes in his arm and shoulder, and then it happened. Her breath stopped and her whole body went tight as a bow. Under his fingers the warm flesh throbbed.
She let out a sigh and her body went slack. ‘Adam, wh…what was that?’
‘Pleasure, I hope.’
Another soft sigh. ‘Pleasure indeed.’ She gave his shoulder a gentle bite and licked it.
He groaned, utterly lost. The musky scent of her arousal filled his consciousness. In all the world there was only Cecily and himself. When her hands started to explore his body again, Adam could wait no longer. ‘Now?’
‘Mmm…yes!’
He moved over her, positioning himself carefully, with his weight on his elbows. She writhed. ‘Stop, Princess, stop. When you do that—’ Gritting his teeth, Adam rested his forehead against hers. ‘It is too much. You must hold still—please hold still. I am trying not to hurt you.’
She smiled at him through the dusky light, and as he readied to push she pressed a series of kisses to his mouth, took hold of his hips.
‘Careful, love. Steady, or you’ll—’
Another smile, and she pulled him to her. Inside. He was inside. It felt like coming home. He moved once, twice, before he remembered: innocent, she was innocent. Somehow he froze and managed to lift his head. ‘You moved. I hurt you.’
‘Only