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Jordan was almost incoherent with pure ecstasy. Unbeknownst to her, tears of joy were streaming down her temples as he paid delicious attention to her ripe breasts. When he finally pulled himself away and dragged his mouth down her softly rounded belly, she knew he was seeking the very core of her and her legs parted for him intuitively.
He lay between her legs, his hand gently stroking the dark blond curls. “It has only been six weeks, love,” he said hoarsely.
“Are you sure I will not hurt you?”
“Nay,” she said faintly. “There has been enough time, and I am healed. Byron removed the stitches long ago.”
He had to see what she was talking about, see for himself that he would not re-tear the wound she received giving birth. He spread her thick lips, his finger running along the tiny, pink scar now slick with lubricant from her body. She was indeed healed and perfect and he was constantly amazed that such a small passage could accommodate him so beautifully, as well as birth two large babies. She was, as always, remarkable.
He would wait no longer. Pulling himself up, he pulled her thighs up around him and drove into her. She stifled a moan at his entry, but she was so tight from disuse that it took him another surge to fully embed himself into her hot passage. He shuddered with satisfaction, feeling the walls of her core wrap around him.
“God, Jordan…,” he breathed, withdrawing almost completely before ramming back into her.
The process was exquisitely maddening. His thrusts were sweeter and more powerful than she had ever remembered and she was instantly responding to him, her hips meeting his with blinding force. Sweat coated their bodies, mingling, as they moved with one another, achieving the ultimate climax together and maintaining a bit of heaven for a small eternity until they floated, reluctantly, down to earth once again.
He fell atop her, holding her beautiful body close to him for long minutes, wanting to remain there forever but knowing his knights were still in the other room. He had to smile when he wondered if they were all crowding about the door, listening. He didn’t care if they were or not.
“English,” she whispered. “Yer men are going to begin to wonder what has happened to ye.”
He propped himself up to look at her, still embedded in her. “If they have any brains, they know what has happened to me.”
She blushed and slapped playfully at him with embarrassment. He laughed low in his throat and kissed her.
“Have no fear, love, for they will say nothing,” he said, withdrawing to moans from both of them. He sighed heavily with the pleasure. “Not even if they heard our screams of passion would they mention them.”
She grinned, running her hand over his face. “I love ye.”
His gaze turned incredibly soft and loving. “And I love you.”
They rose and dressed, Jordan fighting off a blush for she knew the moment she walked back into the antechamber, all heads would turn to look at her. On the other side of the closed door, she could hear a baby crying.
“ ’Tis Troy,” she said, brushing her hair quickly. “He is hungry.”
William looked sheepish. “And I ate his dinner.”
She laughed. “The wet nurse is in the nursery, so have no fear that they will go hungry.”
They went back into the antechamber and William retrieved both sons, kissing their little heads gently before passing them over to their mother. It was the first time he had held them since they had been born. Jordan avoided making eye contact with the knights simply because she was terrified she would flush a bright red if they as much as smiled at her.
She quickly took the babies back to the nursery. When she returned, William was speaking to the knight she did not recognize, the new one that had come with them from Northwood, who had made himself practically invisible during the reunion.
William saw her come back in and turned to her. “Jordan, I would like you to meet someone,” he indicated the well-built young knight. “This is Sir John Gainsborough. Gainsborough, this is my wife, Lady de Wolfe. Sir John is Captain Payton-Forrester’s second-in-command.
Jordan bobbed a curtsy. “Sir knight, ’tis a pleasure.”
He bowed gallantly. “The pleasure is mine, my lady. I am honored to finally meet The Wolf’s lady wife.”
He seemed nice enough, but she wondered what had happened to Lewis and Adam. She didn’t want to ask her husband again for she knew he would tell her when he was ready.
Jordan ordered a large meal and shortly they were all seated, enjoying the finer foods from the king’s kitchens. It was a tremendously enjoyable meal, and Jordan could not remember being more happy or gay. The knights joked and teased one another, and her as well, and she felt as if she were sitting with her family, except she had never loved her family the way she loved these men.
As they were enjoying the last of the meal, there was a knock at the door. Jordan rose, insisting that the knights they remain seated and keep eating. Going to the door, she was stunned to see de Troiu standing in the door jamb.
“Jordan!” he exclaimed. “I must speak with you, dearest. I had to threaten your man before he would let me through, but I simply must speak with you.”
Jordan’s mouth was agape as she glanced over de Troiu’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of d’Vant. He stood several feet away and gave her a devilish grin before turning away. In that second she knew that the baron had no idea her husband and his knights were in the room behind her. The open door furthermore blocked his view of the eating table.
Jordan wasn’t sure if she should let him in or tell him to run for his life. He made the decision for her by putting his hands on her upper arms insistently.
