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She lied beautifully.
“In your sleep you do. What did you dream about?”
She scrambled backwards and the mastiff howled when she landed on his paw.
“Dream... I dreamt of nothing important.” She tried to cover herself with the blanket, but he had hold of the other end. He pulled hard, and she lost her grip. The loose blanket unravelled around her body, exposing her rosy breasts and fuzzy mound.
He rolled the blanket into a ball and threw it onto the window seat. “There. Let’s not hide you away. So, my beloved, my wife-to-be—”
“Maybe,” she pouted.
“A certainty, I’m sure. What did you see in your nap?”
“I can’t tell you.” She turned her flushed face away from him.
“What claimed you in your sleep? What kind of man tempts you when you dream? Answer me.” He added an edge to his voice, something that brought goosebumps out onto her arms.
She twirled a lock of apricot hair between her fingers. The long tresses, loosened during their frolic on the bed, reached her waist. It was the first time he’d seen her hair down and not bound up into a tight bun ready to be hidden under a veiled headdress.
“Is it so hard to describe? Were you alone?”
She shook her head.
“Where were you?”
“In the woods. I was chased there.”
“By whom?”
“More of a what. I never saw it. It crept upon me, pushed me down, and licked my back. And
bottom.” She lowered her eyes. “I’m ashamed to say it excited me. It should not.”
“Your naked bottom?” He liked the imagery. Such a dream would excite him too, although his perspective would be different to hers.
“Yes,” she squeaked. “I spread... I did what I did earlier for you in the tower, and something entered me.”
“And?” He leaned his elbows on his knees.
Her eyes shone brightly. “It stayed there.” She straightened up. “Then I woke up. Hungry.”
He laughed. “So I saw.” The laughter died naturally on his lips. She had a haunted expression, one to pity and admire, a beauty to conjure up his beast.
He rose and stood over her. With the tip of his finger, he tilted her head up and gazed into her eyes. It was brief interlude, the food, the talk, and now it was over.
“Get on the bed,” he growled.
Chapter Twelve
Even if reclaimed, the abandoned blanket would offer her no protection. She backed onto the bed, slithered along on her bottom, the heat still prevalent but the reason for it forgotten. By the pillows, she propped herself up on her elbows. She ensured her knees and thighs were glued together, locking out of sight what he desired.
Gervais’s cloak slipped onto the floor by his feet and once more, he demonstrated he was fully endowed. The member, which she’d not managed to sate, was taut and coloured with hot blood. He brought his knuckles down on the mattress and with raised shoulders and piercing eyes, he stalked her on all fours, using them as a wolf might when creeping up on an unsuspecting hare. She swallowed the trepidation stuck in her throat, and it filled her belly instead with dancing butterflies.
He collected on his way her legs, easily parting them, spreading them wide and up, until her knees were by her elbows. Open to him, unable to wriggle out from under the canopy of his body, she was under no illusion that this time he meant to fuck her. Her elbows collapsed, and she rested her arms above her head. There was nothing to hold, no means to hide her trembling fingers. She bit on her lower lip, but he saw it, the little gesture, and cocked his head to one side.
“Don’t you want it?” He eased the grip on the backs of her knees. His cock was close, hovering between her thighs, the tip of it poised to enter her.
“Yes,” she said in a murmur of confusion.
