Epilogue
The next day
The caves of St. Agnes
His hand was underneath the skirt of her borrowed gown, moving to the tender junction between her legs even as he faced her towards the wall of the cave. Samarra groaned as Rhodes’ fingers probed the dark curls.
“Bend forward,” he hissed in her ear. “Put your hands on the wall.”
He was quickly driving her into mindless ecstasy with his expert fingers. “On… on the red stain?” she gasped.
“On the red stain.”
Rhodes has his mouth on her neck as he bent her forward so that her hands were on the wall of the cave, touching what a local man had told them were the exact stains of the lost lovers, people he’d referred to as Kael and Aelwen. Having just married the woman that morning, Rhodes thought it might increase their chances of a true and lasting love if they were to consummate their marriage in the cave, something Henry thought was somewhat ridiculous but he was waiting outside just the same, he and his men keeping any curiosity seekers away.
But Rhodes, who had initially scoffed at the entire legend of the lost lovers, now found it a very powerful aphrodisiac as he bent his wife over, threw up her skirts, and untied his breeches. The breeches came down and his rigid manhood sought the tender, wet folds of the woman he’d just married. With a little help from Samarra, his flesh sword found its mark. When he thrust into her, it was with such force that he nearly smacked her head into the cave wall.
But Samarra braced herself firmly, her hands on the red-orange stain that was the source of the legend of the caves. Rhodes had her by the hips as he thrust into her but his hands wandered a great deal, drawn to the thatch of damp curls between her legs or to her full breasts beneath the surcoat she wore. It was more pleasure than Samarra had ever experienced, being filled by a man she had married at the door of St. Agnes’ church earlier that morning. Truly, the moment was not lost on her, for she’d grown up hearing of the legend of the caves. She had no doubt in her love for Rhodes, but it never hurt to have a bit of assurance.
Even from a legend.
Rhodes’ thrusting began to slow because he could feel his peak building quickly and he didn’t want to relinquish this moment. He wanted it to live on forever, joining his body with a woman who set him on fire, a moment that seemed as if it were the culmination of every dream he’d ever had about a wife or experiencing feelings of adoration for someone. Eventually, he pulled Samarra up into a semi-upright position and picked her up, still joined to her, and put her next to the cave wall so she was pressed against it. He continued to thrust into her from behind, his lips suckling on her earlobe, his hands holding her fast. Between him and the cave wall, Samarra grunted with pleasure at every thrust, every withdrawal.
“Do you think they see us?” she breathed.
Rhodes was lost to his lust, placed one hand on her groin as he held her body against his and his other hand next to Samarra’s on the bloodstained wall to ensure that they completed the legend. “Who?”
“The lovers.”
He thrust deep and then ground his pelvis against her while rubbing his fingers across her sensitive nub, causing her to shudder as she experienced her first release with him. Her gasps of pleasure echoed off the cave wall and Rhodes came to a halt, feeling her body tighten up around his manhood. When the tremors died away, he resumed pounding into her sweet body.
“Mayhap their spirits still linger,” he murmured, his lips against her ear. “Mayhap they see our feelings for each other and will give us their blessing for a long and happy life together.”
“I hope so.”
A few more thrusts and Rhodes released himself into her body, so forcefully that his final and most powerful thrust ended up lifting her right off the ground. He held her tightly against him as his seed filled her, the mark of a husband into the body of his wife. He found himself wishing for a son from this powerful and remarkable woman, a son that would surely be a force to be reckoned with. A legacy from a woman who belonged to him now as if she’d always belonged to him. He couldn’t even remember his life before he met her.
Their bodies cooled and the sound of the sea filled the cave. Water began to rush in at the changing of the tide. Rhodes looked down, noticing that water was beginning to pool around his boots. Carefully, he put Samarra on her feet and helped her straighten her gown, a garment she was terribly uncomfortable with. He’d borrowed the gown from one of the wenches at The Meadery for the event of their wedding and it was a fine piece of goods. Samarra looked wonderful in it. He pulled up his breeches, his warm gaze on his wife.
“No more breeches for you,” he told her. “I like you much better in gowns.”
Samarra looked at herself in the gown that fit well enough on the top but it was too short on the bottom. “You do?” she asked. “I have never really worn a gown in my life. This is a first.”
“It suits you.”
She continued to look at the garment, brushing on the skirt to smooth it. “I will admit, it is easier.”
“To wear?”
She grinned as she looked up at him. “For you to have, shall we say, access,” she said. “We could not easily do what we just did if I was wearing breeches.”
He laughed softly, putting his arms around her and giving her a squeeze. “Then I shall have a thousand gowns made for you,” he said. “Not only do I want my wife well-dressed, but access is most convenient for a married couple. I shall want access quite often.”
Samarra gave him a smirky little look. “All you need to do is ask, my lord.”
His smile faded as he looked at her. “I shall ask daily, sometimes twice a day,” he said. Then, he shook his head. “This all seems like a dream to me. I cannot believe that you are mine.”
Samarra wound her arms around his neck, gazing into those big blue eyes. “And you are mine,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his. “And the legend of the lovers – whether or not you believe it, I am glad we came here. For certain, it would be a glorious thing to be as deeply in love with you for eternity as I am now. For those two lovers who were never able to be together in life, mayhap in some way, some of their endless love will live on in us now.”
Rhodes nodded, kissing her on the forehead. “I am looking forward to such things, Missy.”
“Call me Lady de Leybourne.”
Laughing loudly, he swung her into his arms and carried her from the caves, out into the big world beyond where their limitless future beckoned.
Where the curse of two lovers became a blessing to a reluctant bridegroom who was reluctant no more.
The End