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He kissed her ear, nuzzling at her throat until she raised her head and gave him her mouth.
“It’s odd, you know. I’ve always thought kissing a woman was pleasurable, but nothing more, really. But you, Daria, your mouth drives me mad. Aye, I’ll kiss you until God removes me from this earth.”
And as he kissed her, she lightly laid her hand on his hip. He jerked and kissed her harder. “And what will you do if I touch you here, Roland?” Her hand dipped to his flat hard belly. She could feel his muscles tensing, feel the crisp groin hair beneath her finger and his smooth hot flesh. “And here?” she whispered into his mouth as her fingers lightly closed around his member.
Roland had not believed it possible, but at the touch of her warm fingers closing around him, he swelled until he was pressing against her palm, pushing, thrusting against her fingers.
“This is what I’ll do,” he said, and fell onto his back, bringing her over him. “Ride me, Daria. Take me.”
When she neared her release, he pushed her, and she went wild, bringing him with her.
He was stunned at this mating. It should have been slow and tender, but it had been as frenzied as the first time.
She nuzzled her face against his chest.
He was thoughtful for a moment. “This is very strange,” he said at last. “Never in my life have I taken a woman so many times in so many short minutes.”
She raised her head and frowned at him. “But I thought that perhaps we could—”
He slapped her buttocks. “You’re lying and you just don’t do it well.”
“No, I’m teasing you, Roland. You enjoy me. I like that.”
She looked so pleased with herself that he was obliged to chuckle. “Aye, I enjoy you. Now, however, we must see to ourselves, somehow, before Salin sends out a party to search for us.”
“Must I try to stand up?”
“Aye, and so must I.”
He smiled as he helped her up. They stood facing each other, dirty as urchins, smiling, smelling of sweat and sex and grass. He sighed and stepped back. “There’s no hope for it,” he said, glancing about at their strewn torn clothes.
No one said anything when the master and mistress came into the inner bailey looking like they’d been attacked and rolled in the dirt.
Roland had stroked his fingers through her tangled hair, but it had done little good. Daria was very aware that a multitude of eyes were staring at them and knowing what had happened. And if they didn’t know immediately, her downcast eyes and the bright flush on her cheeks gave them away. Roland, curse him, was smiling like a fool.
She quickened her step and looked at her toes. Her other slipper had somehow disappeared. Roland chuckled beside her, then leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Are you are ready to race me to our bedchamber?”
“I’m a wom
an, Roland. I have great endurance.” He leaned down, cupping the back of her neck in his hand, and kissed her, in front of all their people, in front of the children, in front of all the dogs and cats and goats, and because kissing him was more wonderful than nearly anything else she could imagine, Daria kissed him back, pressing upward against him.
She dimly heard a raucous cheer and flushed from her hairline to her dirty toes.
He continued to kiss her until he was satisfied with his result. Then he raised his head and gave her the most insolent grin imaginable. And he said softly, smiling down at her flushed face, “You’re mine, all mine. Never forget that, ever. Have water fetched for us. I shall join you in our bedchamber very shortly.”
“I would say that things have improved between your daughter and Roland.”
Katherine turned smiling eyes to Sir Thomas. “Aye, it would appear so. She looks so at ease with herself.”
“She has the look of a woman well and truly pleasured, Katherine. Her eyes appear even greener. Were her father’s eyes that startling color?”
“Nay, her grandmother had eyes as green as spring grass. She shares nothing at all with her father.”
“You should be proud of her. She’s a lovely girl. If she continues to be so well-pleased with her husband, I doubt not that another babe will soon be here.”
Oddly enough, Roland shared that thought nearly at the same time. He was watching Daria chew on a braised meat bone with great thoroughness. Her teeth were white, her tongue pink, her concentration profound. He wanted her again; he wanted her to kiss and fondle him with such absorption as she was giving that damned meat bone.
It was perplexing, this effect she had on him, and as mystifying as it was belated. He’d kept his distance from her, both mentally and physically, since their marriage. Until today. Until she’d run out of the great hall screeching at the top of her lungs and jumped on Rollo’s back, uncaring about herself, wanting only to save her husband. A woman who didn’t love a man wouldn’t do that. Even as he’d felt anger, then amusement, in the depths of him, he’d felt valued, he’d felt incredibly cherished. And now everything had shifted, changing even before he’d had time to question it. He suspected this damned change was irrevocable. He’d never before considered himself a man to be a slave to his sex, as were some men he’d known. Even when he’d been in the Holy Land and played the indulgent owner of six women, each of whom was eager to do nothing but please him, he hadn’t been controlled by lust. And yet here was his wife, too thin, but with flesh softer than a summer rain, her cheeks rosy from the sweet wine she’d been drinking, and he wanted to jerk the meat bone out of her hand and take her here, this very instant. He was hard, and he was vastly relieved that the full-cut tunic covered him. He shifted in his chair.
