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The need was more powerful than the law, protocol, or the very monarchy that resided within the walls. They had been denied their wedding night, they would have their night now.

William picked his wife up and carried her over to an overstuffed silk couch near the windows. He practically threw her down, pushing her skirts up while she fumbled with the stays on his breeches. When his huge organ was freed, red and throbbing, she massaged and caressed it, loving the smooth feel of him. He moaned, his tongue licking her pink mouth and tangling with her own tongue.

She was slick and hot when he pushed deep into her, filling her with the proof of his desire. Her legs hung over the sides of the couch as his rhythm took flight and they began to move together with such force that the legs of the furniture thumped methodically.

Jordan’s legs wrapped around his buttocks as if she could pull him deeper and deeper inside. His arms were braced on either side of her and she clung to his neck, holding him as he drove deep, deep, into her. The friction was building in her loins, a hot pressure increasing with every thrust until she finally felt the release she sought in warm, delicious convulsions of pleasures.

William, feeling her tighten and throb around him, lost himself in her with a scalding eruption. He could not have controlled it any longer even if he wanted to.

He put his legs down on either side of the couch and pulled her up to sit on his thighs, his arousal still joining their bodies. She cuddled against him, her hands inside his tunic and caressing his skin with blissful satisfaction. His chin was resting on the top of her head and he was in utter heaven simply to feel her, all of her, against him.

“If you had married this Galloway, I would have never met you,” he thought aloud, frightening himself.

She looked up at him, her hands still in his tunic. “Aye, ye would have. My Da was specific when he told Laird Galloway that I wunna be allowed to marry his son until I was twenty-one; I think because Da could not bear to part with me. I met ye on the battlefield when I was but twenty.”

He remembered the meeting better than anything else in his entire life. “I remember you said you weren’t married,” he sighed. “My God, do you mean to say that if Galloway hadn’t died and if I had waited a nominal amount of time to return to Scotland to thank you for your kindness, then your marital status would have been changed in that space?” he kissed the top of her head. “Lord, I would have run myself through for my stupidity and the damn luck.”

She grinned. “Ye wouldna been able to marry me, anyway, English.”

“You think not?” he said. “Had your father not consented, I would have simply kidnapped you.”

“Ye would have?” she looked up at him. “But…but I thought ye said ye would return to thank me for my kindness, not ask for my hand.”

He cocked his eyebrow. “Marrying you would have been your reward.”

Her mouth opened at his arrogance. “And what if I dinna want yer thanks? Lord, yer a conceited man.”

He smiled provocatively again. “You would have refused?”

She looked away coyly. “Mayhap. After all, ye’re a Sassenach.”

His hands found their way underneath the dress and he began to caress her soft bottom. It was no time before he was once again rock-hard within her and she began to ride him up and down. It was a sweet, erotic position and she found that if she stood tall on her knees and then plunged back down again, she could make him groan most wonderfully.

He came first this time, holding her hips down on his member as he erupted into her. When she felt his pulsations, her pleasure was almost instantaneous.

Limp with bliss, they clung to each other for long, contented minutes. Jordan had no idea when she would next see him and savored every moment, as did he. Therefore, they savored the moment.

Unfortunately, William truly had pressing duties. He felt guilty making love to his wife twice and then bolting up, but he had little choice. She understood, of course, or at least insisted she did and in a few minutes they were going their separate ways.

Deinwald escorted Jordan back to her chambers at William’s request. She was a bit apprehensive because she knew Aloria would be waiting for her and she was, frankly, afraid of the woman. She was simply as big as a man and from what else she noticed, she was attractive and probably a bit older than herself. She wondered apprehensively what sort of temperament the woman possessed.

She found Aloria in the antechamber waiting tall and silent. Jordan entered the room and Deinwald followed, his blue eyes glaring hostilely at the queen’s lady. Aloria curtsied to Jordan and eyed Deinwald.

“My lady, ’tis an honor to serve you,” she said. “As I am to understand it, I will have the privilege of guiding you through your new station.”

“Aye,” Jordan replied. “I hope I am a good student.”

Aloria nodded shortly before eyeing Deinwald again. “I am sure you will be, my lady. And as a first lesson, if I may, a proper countess does not allow any man other than her husband in her chambers. The knight must leave.”

Jordan turned to look at Deinwald. His face was hard and glaring.

“You’ll not tell me to leave, wench,” he growled.

Aloria didn’t back down as Jordan knew she would not. “Lady Jordan is entrusted to me now and anything that directly affects her well-being is my concern. If I say you will leave, you will leave, or I shall have you removed.”

“And just who will remove me?” Deinwald flared.

“I will, if I must,” Aloria replied calmly.