"Well, he'll not with me, my lady," Megan said pertly with a grin. "I'm not one of those kiss-me-quick lasses he's used to pursuing." She curtsied prettily. "If you're certain it's all right to leave you, my lady, then I'll bid you good night."
"Run along," Wynne told her, smiling as Megan almost flew out the door. There was a definite romance brewing between Einion and Megan. She snuggled down into the big round tub, murmuring with pleasure as the hot water soothed her tired shoulder and neck muscles, which were sore from bending over her work all day. Fragrant wildflower steam arose from the water, perfuming the room. The fire crackled comfortably while outside the winter winds howled and sighed about the castle. Wynne closed her eyes and relaxed. Suddenly from behind her closed eyelids she sensed she was not alone.
"Do you wish to join me, my lord?" she asked, not even bothering to open her eyes.
"It would not distress you?" he queried her.
Now Wynne did open her green eyes, and she looked direcdy at him. He was naked and he was beautiful. She had never seen a grown man naked, and yet she was neither surprised nor distressed by the sight. His body matched his fiercely handsome face. It was all bone and muscle. His legs were hairy, but the rest of his body was smooth, except for the thickly tangled thatch of dark curls springing from his groin where his manhood lay framed.
Wynne swung her look back up to his face. "Our ancestors saw nothing wrong in intimacy, Madoc. You are my betrothed husband. I am your betrothed wife." She smiled encouragingly at him. "Come, the water is delightful. Bring the brush and I will scrub your back."
"Once again you surprise me, dearling," he told her, and she laughed.
"Our marriage will be celebrated on the first day of May, my lord. I have been at Raven's Rock over three months. Yet although I find my desire for you grows daily, and I have indeed grown to love you, it is not enough. I must remember that which was between us before we marry. You admit that we were once lovers. Perhaps if we are lovers again, my memory of those times past will be returned to me and we may complete what is uncompleted between us before formally rejoining our lives once more."
"Wynne," he began, "do you know what it is you are saying?"
"Deny me not in this, Madoc," she replied seriously. "I am not afraid to become a woman. Does it displease you that I would be one?" He had entered the tub, and she now moved to face him, winding her arms about his neck provocatively. "Tell me you are not angry with me, Madoc." Her small, firm breasts pressed against his chest.
Lost. He was totally and completely lost in the depths of her forest-green eyes. Her mouth shimmered before him, coral-pink, berry-sweet, and ripe for kissing. They called him sorcerer, and yet it was Wynne, Wynne in her innocence and ancient instinct, who was a sorceress, beguiling aned enchanting him until he could no longer resist. Madoc knew he had the power to renew the deep, secret memories of their past which she had repressed within her heart and mind; but right now all he wanted to do was to make love to her. She lured him on. He could feel her hand against the back of his neck, drawing him down to her deliciously tempting mouth.
"I won't be able to stop," he whispered desperately against her mouth in a final attempt at sanity.
"I would not start this if I expected you to stop, Madoc, my love," she murmured back, nibbling at his lower lip. "I am no coy maid to tease a man onward only to cry off at the crucial moment. I am yours!"
With a groan he surrendered. His mouth took hers in a hard, almost brutal kiss. The power of victory sang in his ears. She was his!
Wynne returned his passion kiss for kiss. The time for maidenly modestly was long past. Her own blood ran hot with her desire to be possessed completely by this man. To learn how to possess him in return. In this aspect of their relationship everything was perfect. She parted her lips as he had taught her and tasted his tongue mingling with hers. Her lithe body pressed against him as their mouths mashed together frantically and wetly.
Jesu! He had to regain control of the situation before he took her right here in their tub. She was a virgin. She deserved better than that her first time. He pulled his head away from her and drew several breaths to clear his senses before setting her firmly back from him. The hurt in her eyes astounded him.
"What is wrong?" Wynne begged.
He smiled to reassure her and then said, "There will be times, my love, when I may make love to you here in our bath; but not this time. Tonight it must be perfect for you. At least as perfect as I can make it. It is every woman's right when she gives up her virginity, and I will not take that from you. Now scrub my back, Wynne, and we will adjourn to my bedchamber, where I will endeavor to give you the sweet pleasure all women should have."
With trembling hands Wynne scrubbed him, rinsing him off with a soft cloth; and then to her surprise he did the same for her. "You speak of pleasing me, Madoc," she said low, "but I would learn how to please you."
"I will teach you, my dearling, but tonight, Wynne, I alone will be the master of our pleasure, for to give you joy, my love, is to receive it myself. You cannot quite understand that at this moment, but within a short time you will." He kissed her softly, stroking her jaw lightly with the back of his hand. Then stepping from their deep oak tub, he lifted her out, setting her upon the warm stones of the floor. Madoc reached for a piece of rough toweling and began to slowly rub her dry.
"You will catch cold," Wynne said softly, taking another piece of toweling and imitating his actions.
"I'll be hot soon enough," he teased gently, sliding to his knees before her, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing.
Trembling just faintly, Wynne bent slightly over to dry his broad shoulders, gasping with surprise as, reaching up, Madoc caught one of her breasts in his hand and, fastening his lips about the nipple, began to suckle her. "Ohhh!" Her little cry was almost a squeak. "Ohhh!" It came again as the prince transferred his attentions from the first small breast to the second. The sensations generated by the actions of his mouth were delicious, she thought, but why did she also have a tingling sensation in the secret place between her thighs?
Madoc stood up, putting his arms about her as he did, and drew her close against him. Wynne looked up unafraid into his face, her hand reaching up to stroke his cheek; a single finger moving softly over his fleshy underlip. Gently he bit that finger, his deep blue eyes holding her green eyes captive now, daring her onward. She lay her cheek against his shoulder, rubbing it softly with her head; and Madoc, in answer to her unspoken words, bent down to lift her up into his arms. He carried her from their bathing room to his own bedchamber, setting her down upon her feet for a moment while he poured them two goblets of rich, red wine which he placed upon a low table near the fire.
Wynne looked quickly about the room, for she had never been in it before. It was large and spacious, with a great fireplace which burned brightly, warming the room most comfortably. A great bed was set upon a raised dais. It was covered in a deep blue silk coverlet with a wide hem embroidered with gold thread and small jewels. Behind the bed, hanging from the ceiling to the floor, was a large, colorful tapestry depicting purple mountains and green forests filled with animals, both real and fabled, as well as birds that fluttered and flew about the scene. Windows looked out onto the mountains; she could tell by their direction, although those mountains were now obscured by both the night and the storm. There were beautifully carved chairs, and tables and chests of warm golden oak set about the room, which for all its elegance was simple.
Madoc took Wynne by the hand now and led her to a large white sheepskin rug which lay on the floor before the fireplace. Gently he drew her down so that they knelt facing one another. Taking her face into his hands, he kissed her mouth, gently at first, than a bit more fiercely as his ardor rose. Her arms had been quiet at her side. Now she lifted them and, palms smoothing slowly up his chest, she slid them tightly about his neck, drawing him down with her as she lay back upon the soft sheepskin. His lips never left her all the while, and he thought that she was wonderfully bra
ve in her innocence.
He was careful not to put himself atop her lest he frighten her. Instead he slid himself sinuously down alongside of her. Kneeling back on his haunches, he took one of her slender feet into his hands. He kissed the top of her foot, nibbling playfully at her dainty toes, cradling the foot in his warm palms, massaging it gently before paying equal court to its mate. Wynne could not help but giggle, for the sensation against her skin was deliciously tickly.
"First you would gnaw on my fingers," she whispered, "and now my toes. Do all men love their ladies so, Madoc?" Then she gave a little squeal, for his tongue was licking the arch of her foot and the feeling was most sensuous.
"A wise man," he said, nuzzling her ankle, "loves a woman from the soles of her pretty feet to the top of her head, Wynne. To do less would be tragic. A woman is more than simple surcease for a man's randy cock." He fondled her calves with strong, warm fingers.
This was something she had most certainly not known, Wynne thought. His hands were so skilled, and they sent such wonderful little shivers of pure pleasure throughout her body. It was quite a delightful revelation. She stretched and purred her contentment of his continued actions, then giggled again as he kissed her rounded knees. "You are mad, my lord!" she half laughed.
He kissed them again, murmuring, "Poor little knees. They tell me that they have never been kissed before, but they quite like it." Then to her great surprise, he turned her quickly over onto her stomach and began caressing her buttocks with soft hands that pressed gently into her flesh and fingers that teased her skin with feathery touches.
She felt his mouth on her, kissing. His tongue, warm and stroking. A shiver raced through Wynne. This was different. Very, very different from the previous teasing caresses. Kisses were being placed all along her backbone to be slowly followed by the wet warmth of his stroking tongue. She squirmed nervously against the soft sheepskin rug as she felt him lay half atop her. His teeth nipped gently at her ear, and he murmured hotly into it, causing her to shiver again.
"Don't be frightened of me, dearling. I love you," he reassured her. "Remember, there is nothing for you to do this night but enjoy my attentions. Later on I will teach you how to pleasure me even as I now pleasure you." His lips found the soft sensitive back of her neck, and when he had paid it the homage he felt it deserved, he rolled Wynne over again onto her back. "Tell me."
She knew at once to what he alluded, and answered, "I am assailed by a plethora of emotions that buffet at me like the winds in a storm buffet this castle."
"You do not say if they are pleasant or unpleasant, dearling."
"More pleasant, I think. What unnerves me is what I find unfamiliar," she replied thoughtfully.
He caught her hand and, turning it over, kissed the palm passionately. "Are you brave enough now to continue on without further explanation, trusting that I will not harm you, my love?" he asked her. The look he gave her was a tender one, yet she could see the banked fires in his eyes. I
My love. How those two simple words thrilled her. Her own wisdom told her that when the dawn came she would once again begin to wonder exactly what it was that really bound them together in time; but for now she did not care. "I would be your wife, Madoc, in every sense of the word. Rid me of my dreaded virginity that we may explore new worlds together," Wynne told him. Then she pulled his head down to her and kissed him fiercely.
She was forever surprising him, he thought briefly as he began to return her kisses; drinking greedily from her mouth; scoring the straining flesh of her throat with his burning lips; his own lips and his hands finding her sweet young breasts. Tenderly he caressed her, his mouth fastening over each sentient little bud, drawing upon it sensuously until her nipples were sore with an undefined longing.
Wynne sighed deeply and arched her body up to meet his mouth, aching all over with the pure pleasure he was giving her. She protested when his lips began to once again move away from her swollen, tender breasts and wander down her torso. Still, his kisses and the gentle tonguing he employed were beginning to send her senses reeling. The tip of his tongue teased at her navel. She murmured nervously again as his head brushed against her closed thighs, which had instinctively pressed themselves tightly together.
"No, dearling," he scolded her gently. "You must open yourself to me. I would prepare you fully for our joining."
Wynne forced herself to relax. Her slim thighs fell apart even as he rubbed his cheek against her belly. She started edgily as his fingers grazed her nether lips, then gasped as they penetrated gently between them. "Madoc!"
"It's all right, Wynne," he reassured her. "Trust me, dearling."
A finger touched that most particularly sensitive nub of her and she gasped again. Never before in her life had she felt anything akin to the sensations now beginning to build up in her. That single finger began to move in a tiny circle of flesh and she shuddered hard. Madoc moved himself between her trembling thighs. His mouth was, to her great shock, where that teasing finger had been but a moment before. She felt his tongue snake out to touch her and was unable to stop the soft moan that seemed to well up from the deepest part of her. His lips closed over that tiny bit of flesh and he began to gently suckle on her. Waves of heat suffused her body leaving her weak with a want she couldn't quite understand.
"I do not think I can bear this!" she cried out to him, but instead of ceasing the sweet torture, Madoc seemed to redouble his efforts. "Ohh, please!" she half sobbed, realizing with blinding clarity even as she pleaded with him that she did not want him to stop, and he knew it. She was wracked by a series of distinctly pleasurable bursts. Then suddenly he was astride her. It would have been so simple to simply drift off at that moment, but instead Wynne opened her eyes and, looking up at Madoc, reached forth to guide his lance into her well-prepared sheath. "Do not delay," she begged him, her gaze one of intoxicated passion. "I would be yours!"
With a groan he sank into her, and she was as sweet as a split peach. When he encountered her maidenhead and stopped a moment in his intent, Wynne thrust her young body up hard, encasing him fully within her ripeness. He kissed the silent tears upon her cheeks away. And then certain the initial pain of Wynne's deflowering had eased, Madoc began to move on her, pressing forward slowly, withdrawing as lingeringly to ensure her a full measure of pleasure.
The pain of his initial entry had exploded blindingly before her eyes and, unable to refrain from her cowardice, Wynne closed them. Then, as suddenly, the sting and the burning she had felt were gone. Wynne began to relax, deciding that Madoc's movements were really quite delicious. He had told her that she need do nothing but enjoy his attentions. Now free of her previous fears, she did. Whimpering with a need she still did not quite understand, her fingers kneaded at his shoulders, digging into his flesh more sharply and with greater urgency as she felt a rising tide of ecstasy sweeping up to overwhelm her.
Every new sensation assaulting her was an acute one. She could actually feel his manhood, warm and pulsing with life, within her own body. Each stroke of it seem to push her further and further away from reality. Yet his hungry possession of her body was the greatest reality of all. Like a song bird she glided higher and higher, seeking a pinnacle she had never known. Then as suddenly she found it. Great shudders racked her from the deepest chasms of her body, even as rainbows of light burst wildly upon her from behind her eyelids. Wynne opened her mouth gasping for air, and having gulped some, expelled it almost immediately before fainting dead away, her last sensation being that of being flooded with total warmth.
Madoc groaned with satisfaction as his own passions burst forth at precisely the right moment. He rolled half off her as he shuddered a final discharge of ecstasy. For the first time in his life he was transported himself into a semiconscious state. Never before had he known such bliss with a woman as he did with this woman. Nothing had changed in that respect, he thought hazily. Then he allowed himself to float free for a few minutes, reveling in the sweet sensations that assailed him
like an afterglow. As his mind grew clearer he began to realize that Wynne, an untried virgin, had galloped the entire course of passion in her first attempt. She was amazing and obviously had an incredible capacity for loving. This shadow between them had to be dissolved.
She began to stir beside him, and pulling himself up into a seated position, Madoc gathered his betrothed wife into his arms. He cradled her gently, smoothing her wonderful long black hair away from her face, for it had come undone and tangled with their love play. It was such beautiful hair, he thought. Soft, smelling of white heather and silky beneath his fingers.
Wynne opened her eyes and studied the fierce features, suddenly gentle with his open adoration for her. "Will it always be as wild between us, my lord?" she asked softly. "Will I die a little death each time you pleasure me with your skillful lance? Will you show me how I may pleasure you as greatly, for having opened such a wonderful world to me, Madoc, I now find I am in your debt."
"Your pleasure is my pleasure," he told her sincerely. "There is nothing more."
"No ways in which I may offer equal bliss?" she pressed him. "Did you not say you would teach me? Do not deny me the right to give you the same pleasure that you gave me!"
He smiled ^reassuringly into her distressed face. "I will teach you how to give delight with touches and kisses, Wynne, but my greatest pleasure does indeed come with your own pleasure. I swear it!"
"But I want to see your happiness even as you saw mine!" she protested.
"That is possible, for sometimes one lover may move more quickly than the other. Then, too, it is also possible to give and take multiple delights in a bout of passion," he told her.
"Oh, yes! Teach me that, my lord!" She almost wriggled with her excitement, very much like an eager young puppy.
Madoc laughed, charmed with her enthusiasm, which, in all his years of watching over her, he could have never guessed. Perhaps, however, he should have and would have had he not been so entranced with her. Wynne had a great capacity for life and for living. Then he sobered. This experiment in passion had been performed for the express purpose of jogging her memory. "Tell me, dearling," he questioned her, "have you remembered anything of times past now?"
A Moment in Time Page 17
