REUNITED AT HOME
Alf rode into the courtyard at Bronley, his heart light with joy. He couldn't yet believe that he was here! He had returned to Ambeal. Last time he was here, he had expected he would meet his end. He had not thought he'd return here. Yet now he had. Somewhere, in the castle, she was waiting for him. Ambeal.
As he thought of her his loins tensed with longing. He wanted her so badly. He wanted to hold that sweet, curvaceous body to himself and kiss those soft red lips. She had haunted his dreams for so long now. He needed to know her truly.
“My lord!” a guard greeted him. Alf nodded.
“Glennan. Good to see you. Is his lordship in the great hall?”
“No, my lord,” he said. “He's in the turret. At the books.”
“Well, then,” Alf said grimly. “I'll seek him out there, then.”
“Good, my lord.”
As Alf went into the fortress, he felt his anger, which he had held back for the entire journey, begin to surface. He was furious. He marched in, prepared to confront his lordship.
“Alf!”
He heard a woman's voice call his name. He stopped. His heart melted and anger dissolved. She was in the hallway and she ran to meet him, her face alight with love. His heart soared.
“Ambeal.”
He was laughing then, and he drew her to him. He held her close, shivering as his body pressed against those smooth, lovely curves. His mouth sought hers and he kissed her.
Her lips parted softly under his probing tongue. He tensed, feeling the soft warmth of her mouth draw him in. He tasted the sweetness of her warm lips – marzipan after luncheon, he guessed – and he wanted more of her. He could feel his body responding and he knew that he had to have more, had to discover what she looked like under that gown, to sample all her pleasures.
“Ambeal,” he whispered.
“Alf.”
He looked into her eyes and she held his gaze. It seemed as if she could read what he was thinking, for the look she gave him was part apprehension and part wonder. He nodded.
“My dear,” he whispered. His mouth was dry as if he had eaten lemons. “Shall we go up?”
She looked up at him and, slowly, nodded.
He followed her up the stairs. It was mid-afternoon, but under the clouds it seemed much darker. He followed her to her bedchamber. Outside the door, he looked into her eyes. He would not impose his wishes on her. If she was not ready, he could wait.
I do not know how, but I can. It could be the hardest thing he'd done, but he'd manage.
Ambeal nodded. She looked into his eyes and he reached for her, hunger rising in his veins like a warm tide. He drew her against him firmly and his mouth clamped onto hers. She leaned against him and her breasts pressed to his chest, the softness of them against his hard body a new excitement.
She was yielding and ready, her mouth clinging gently to his tongue. He felt her curves soft under his hands and he pushed open the door, leading her inside. There, in the fire-lit dark of the bedchamber he kissed her again.
“Ambeal,” he whispered. His hands stroked her body, reaching up to touch her marble-white cheek. He kissed her there, too, amazed by the soft warmth of her skin.
Then, gently, he leaned against her, pushing her back towards the bed. She fell back with a little huff of surprise. The sound made his body ache with need.
It was his wedding night – truly and finally.
He lay down on the bed. Propped on one elbow, he kissed her surprised, eager mouth. He thrust his tongue in eagerly and she responded, yielding to his probing exploration.
His hands moved to her hair and he stroked it gently. It was soft and she made a little sound of pleasure as his hands stroked her. He tensed.
Gently, he lowered his lips to her neck. He kissed the tender white skin and then moved lower. He could smell her soft perfume – strewing-herbs and rosemary – and he breathed it in eagerly, wanting to drown in the scent from her.
He tickled fingers down her neck and she giggled. Then he reached for the button of her gown.
“Yes?”
She nodded. Her eyes were big and a little wary. He recalled she'd never done this before. He must go slowly. He didn't want to scare her. He wanted everything to be perfect.
He undid the top button and then moved the dress down a little, exposing a pale shoulder. Then he eased it down further. He undid the next button. He could see her collarbones now, and the faintest hint of cleavage. It excited him beyond anything he had ever known.
Smooth, soft and full, her two breasts met in a gentle curve, the sort that drew on his loins and made him want to investigate it with his tongue.
He wanted to go slowly, teasing himself by revealing her body to him bit by bit, but he found he could not restrain himself any more. He undid the next button and the next and to his amazement she was making sounds of urgency, clearly as in need to have the dress gone as himself. He drew it down over her body and let it slide to the rug.
Then he kissed her clavicles and moved downward, moving lower until he grazed the top of her under-dress with his lips. He could feel the fullness of her breasts and he stroked them through the soft linen of the fabric, making her moan.
She gasped and he drew the under-dress down in one smooth motion, pooling it at her feet. Then he reached down with his hand to remove her underclothes. He was shivering as he did so, his whole body overcome with the profound need to feel himself inside her, to see her loveliness revealed.
She was naked before him. He stared at her. Her body was the loveliest thing he'd ever seen before. Her breasts were full and taut, the nipples pale pink. Her waist was small and her hips curvy, leading down to beautiful soft thighs and well-formed calves. Even her feet were beautiful – white and pink and lovely. He would never have imagined that every part of a person could be so wondrous.
He leaned down and, shivering, unable to believe this lovely body was his to explore, took a nipple in his mouth. He sucked gently, relishing its fullness between his lips. She gasped and the sound drove him to new wildness. He stroked her breasts, unable to get enough of their plump fullness. He went lower, kissing his way down her body. He could smell the spiced scent of her and he felt driven to a level of desire he'd never thought existed.
He moved down to the parting of her thighs and stroked her gently, making her part her legs. Then he licked her.
She moaned as his lips teased and tickled her, and then her cries became more urgent as he tasted her. He loved the feel of her soft skin, the taste of her.
She was crying out now, monosyllables of wonder, and he could wait no longer. He tore off his own clothing and knelt between her thighs.
She was sobbing with pleasure and he looked at her face, smiling to himself. Her eyes met his.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “Oh, yes.”
He smiled again. Gently, knowing he could hurt her and not wishing to, he pushed inside.
He felt the smooth warmth envelop him and then stopped. He paused. Then, gently, with even pressure, he pushed on.
She gasped, face registering pain, and then, as he pressed through, pleasure again.
He felt the tension drain from him. He had not harmed her. She was still willing.
He pushed into her and then pulled out, losing all restraint. All he wanted was to feel her and carry on feeling her. To feel that warm wetness as he filled her faster and faster.
He felt her shudder under him even as he began to lose awareness of anything but the rising sensations in himself, and then, suddenly, they were both crying out, gasping and sobbing as the feelings of intensity and wonder crashed over him and filled him and left him, spent, in her arms.
He lay against her, relishing the wonder of how he felt. He had never felt so complete, so wonderful, so calm, in his life. He didn't want to do anything or go anywhere, and only wanted to stay here in her arms, knowing only this moment.
She lay below him and, shuddering with the intensity of his emotion, he kissed her. Her lips enfolded around his tongue and he felt his whole body throb in utter bliss.
Later, he rolled off her and lay beside her. He looked into her eyes.
She was smiling at him. She reached out and touched his face.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too.”
His joy was complete. He slept beside her, her body pressed to his, and knew he knew utter bliss.