Bliss

Hethe hesitated, his gaze moving over his wife's body wrapped in the damp linen. He had seen her nude, her skin unblemished, on their wedding night when he had ordered her into the tub. He had also seen her dressed, prepared beautifully for their wedding ceremony. Now, he was staring at her standing before him, a wet linen clinging lovingly to her curves. Undoubtedly, this half-covered view of her was the most erotic. The cloth was extremely thin, turning transparent where it was damp, and it lay upon her like a gossamer web, driving his imagination wild.



Muttering under his breath, he dipped his hand into the healer's anti-inflammatory salve, then paused again. Where to begin? His gaze slid over his wife's bare shoulders, down over the linen hugging her damp buttocks, then to her bare calves and ankles where the fabric stopped. She had nice ankles. She had nice shoulders, too. And he was to rub all of her, not just her ankles and shoulders.



Shaking his head, he set the bowl of salve down, inserted a finger between the skin of his wife's back and the linen covering it, and tugged. The covering dropped away, pooling at their feet. He didn't miss the little gasp she gave before instinctively trying to cover her front. Fortunately for Hethe, he wasn't facing her front. He stared at her back and behind and gave a little sigh of pleasure. Had he really thought just a moment before that she looked sexier half-covered than she did in nothing? He'd been a fool.



Wee Hethe raised his head in agreement with that thought, and Hethe glanced down at his tenting breeches with a frown.



Helen bit her lip and stared at the fire before her, waiting in an agony of anxiety for her husband to begin to salve her back. She had half a mind to stop him, but she couldn't find the voice to do so. It occurred to her that if he applied the salve to her, there was probably no way he would actually want to consummate their marriage then, and get all sticky himself. Part of her thought that was a grand thing. The other part really didn't want to suffer all this again; it wanted to stop him from applying the balm and delaying any further.



The cowardly side of her won. Helen held her tongue and nearly sagged in relief as he began to smooth the cool cream over her shoulder. She was safe. Her deflowering would be put off for another night.



Of course, Templetun would not be pleased about that - but he did not have to suffer being poked by an ungreased pig!



Hethe finished applying salve to her shoulders, and his hands slipped down to slide over her back.



Hands? Aye, he was using both, and she could feel them spreading the cream around. The decision was good of him, really as it would be done much quicker this way. Unconsciously, she relaxed and leaned into his touch. It was really very nice. The salve was soothing what few itches still remained after her bath, and her husband's touch was firm and warm, almost causing her to melt beneath it. She let her eyes drift shut, absorbing his caresses as his hands slid down her back and up her sides. His fingers brushed lightly over the sides of her breasts, and her breathing gave a little hitch, but then they slid past, rising right up beneath her arms. A moment later, in descending, his fingers brushed again past her breasts.



A little shiver running through her, Helen leaned further backward and sighed slightly. His hands clasped her waist briefly, then slipped down over her behind, massaging and kneading as they went.



Helen blinked her eyes open, some of her relaxation leaving, but quickly his hands were gone. She heard the wooden bowl of ointment scrape a small ways across the floor; then his hands were back again, and he applied fresh cool salve to the backs of her ankles. It was only then that Helen realized that the salve had grown liquid in his hands from the heat of his touch.



She was distracted from such unimportant considerations by the way his hands were soothing and caressing her lower legs, slowly making their way upward. He spread the salve over the skin of her calves, and Helen almost giggled at the ticklish sensation; then he moved on and began to work on the backs of her upper thighs. She felt herself tremble, and her breathing seemed to turn shallow as his fingers ran along the inside of her thighs and skimmed upward. The oddest little tingles were set off between her legs, and Helen felt herself grow alarmed, but then he stopped again.



She waited tensely, listening to the quiet movements behind her, then released a sigh of relief when cool cream again touched her back. Apparently he hadn't finished there. She shivered as his breath skimmed her shoulder and stirred her hair. He had moved closer. I can almost feel the heat from his body , she thought vaguely; then his hands ran up her sides again. This time, however, they did not skim the sides of her breasts; they slid right under her arms and closed over the generous mounds.



Arms dropping away, Helen stared down at what he was doing, spreading whole handfuls of the salve over her breasts. This wasn't part of the bargain! He was only to do my back , some bit of her mind cried out, but Helen wasn't listening. Her eyes were glued to his hands as they massaged and caressed, squeezing so lightly that salve oozed through his fingers, then rubbing that excess on the undersides of her breasts. He was most meticulous, not missing an inch of skin. He even applied it to her nipples, rolling them between salve-covered thumbs and forefingers.



A soft "oh" slipping from her lips, Helen found herself leaning backward. It wasn't until she felt a hardness nudge her bottom that she realized he had removed his leggings and was applying the salve while naked. A sudden picture of how they must look popped into her mind, and Helen closed her eyes with a moan. Oddly enough, shutting her eyes only seemed to intensify her other senses. She was keenly aware of his chest rubbing against her shoulders, his legs brushing her own, his pelvis grinding gently against her backside.



As he suddenly stopped, she couldn't hold back a murmur of disappointment.



"Turn around."



Helen obeyed that husky order automatically, turned to find him squatting to scoop up more lotion. She felt a moment's discomfort when he raised his head and peered up the length of her naked body, then shifted to kneel before her and glanced down at her feet.



"Brace yourself on my shoulders," he ordered, then bent to lift one of her feet onto his knee.



She was grateful for her hold on those strong, wide shoulders a moment later as he began to massage the salve into her foot. It tickled and put her off balance, and she stumbled slightly, releasing a small giggle as he slid his fingers between her toes. Her laughter faded as his hands skimmed up her leg, gliding over her calf, her knee. Her hands tightened on him as those fingers slid higher up her thighs, his eyes following. She was terribly aware of how open and vulnerable to his eyes this position left her body.



A moment later, the side of his hand nudged against the center of her. She bit her lip and closed her eyes as a rainbow of startling sensations shot through her. Once again, she found herself startlingly disappointed when he stopped what he was doing and set her first foot back on the floor.



Opening her eyes, Helen watched him scoop up more salve, then catch and lift her other foot for the same treatment, applying the ointment to every bit of her foot, her ankle, her calf and upper leg. Then he started up her thigh. This time, however, when he reached the top, he did not stop. The hand on the inside of her leg continued higher, spreading salve before it. Helen gasped and stiffened as he massaged the very core of her, the salve seeming cool against her overheating flesh. She was so concentrated on what he was doing, she didn't even notice when he urged her foot off his knee, setting it back on the floor before rising before her. She did notice when his lips closed over hers.



Helen opened her mouth eagerly, inviting his invasion. He accepted the invitation with an ardor that increased her own, continuing to rub one hand between her legs, his fingers slick and hot.



She felt him cup her breast briefly and arched into that, even as she moved against his hand, but he released her and slid that hand down and around to cup her behind, squeezing and kneading there briefly.



As his other hand slipped from between her legs to cup her other buttock, she groaned in disappointment, but it turned to a gasp as he lifted and spread her thighs, pressing her up and around him so that she straddled his waist as he crossed the room.



He tumbled them both down onto the bed, and Helen quickly realized that he was as slick and salve-covered as she. So, perhaps she had been wrong; he did not seem to mind getting messy. Their bodies slid across each other, their legs tangling, then untangling as he kissed her again and again, devouring her mouth with his own.



"Spread your legs," he murmured. Enraptured, Helen quickly did so, sighing and gasping when his hand slid between them. Oh, yes, she liked this, she thought vaguely as she raised her pelvis upward into his touch. Oh, yes. Yes, she - Oh!



She cried out in amazement as her body suddenly convulsed, her legs clamping instinctively around his hand and squeezing as a series of spasms rocked her body. She was aware of his hand slipping away, but was too wrapped up in the sensations convulsing her to care. Then he nudged her legs apart, slid between them and pressed into her.



Helen's eyes opened in shock at this sudden intrusion, and for a moment she feared he would not fit, but he pushed all the way in with one hard thrust that caused the tiniest pain within her. She glanced at his face to find him watching her; then he bent to kiss her again, and began to rock against her.



Pulling himself out, then pushing back in, he began to show her even more wonderful sensations than she'd known could exist. Helen clasped her arms around his shoulders and held on as he took her on a wild new ride.



The knock on the door sounded early. Too early. Hethe grunted, rolled onto his shoulder sleepily, and bellowed, "Go away!"



The knock sounded again, louder this time, and he shifted grumpily. "I said - "



Hethe paused, his mouth hanging open briefly, his eyes sharpening on the body in the linens next to him, his wife. Memories of the night before suddenly filled his mind, and his mouth closed, curving into a satisfied smile. He had performed magnificently, last night, if he did say so himself. And more than once.



Aye. It had been rather impressive. They had made love all night and had not left the room once. They were well and truly married now, and there was no doubting it. Perhaps Templetun would finally leave him alone.



His gaze slid up the linens to the mass of golden tangles poking out of the top. There was no sign of a face, just those curly tresses poking every which way. Hethe's smile softened. His wife was so adorable.



Sexy as hell, too, he added, his gaze sliding back along the curve of what he presumed to be her side and waist. Scooting forward in the bed, he pressed himself against her back, his hand resting on her hip and rubbing it through the linen.



She moaned and shifted against him sleepily, pressing herself against his erection which had suddenly sprung to life.



He knew the exact moment she woke up. Her body went quite as stiff as a board, then she flipped onto her back, tugging the linen down to stare at him. Hethe managed not to wince at the sight. Her face was streaked with dried ointment, and her hair, having dried while they slept, was a holy mess about her head.



She gaped at him briefly, then tugged the bedclothes back over her face.



"What are you doing here?" she asked. Her hair trembled in syncopation with that muffled hiss from under the linens.



"I am your husband, and this is my bed," Hethe answered with a laugh, then slid his hand up her leg a top the linen, then along the inside of her thigh. His voice was husky when he asked, "Surely you haven't forgotten already?"



For a moment, she was as still as death; then she released a breath she had been holding, the linen billowing a bit as she did. "I did."



She pulled the cover down to peer at him consideringly. He arched an eyebrow as her gaze slid over his shoulders and chest, then across the bed sheet that still covered him from the waist down.



Hethe fancied he spotted a spark of desire in those blue eyes of hers as she found the bulge in the linens that signaled his own. She had opened her mouth to speak when another knock sounded impatiently at the door.



"Come in," he called out cheerfully, chuckling when Helen ducked beneath the linens again with a squeal of dismay. Rolling onto his back as the door opened, he eyed a timid Templetun with amusement. The man was hesitating by the open door, sniffing the air cautiously.



"You needn't worry," Hethe told the king's chaplain dryly. "The healer, Mary" - he made himself recall and say the girl's name; it was time he started being a proper lord around here - "she used some herbs in the bath that stopped the itching and removed the smell." His gaze slid to the lumpy linen beside him and he added slyly, "The girl appears to be much better than the healer employed by Tiernay."



An outraged squawk sounded from beneath the sheet, which Helen pulled down far enough to glare at him. "My Joan is as fine a healer... better even than Mary. Although," she added quickly, "while Mary needs more training, I am sure she will be as fine as Joan someday."



"Then why was my Mary able to get rid of your scent, whereas your Joan could not?" Hethe taunted.



"Perhaps Joan thought I wished to keep it," Helen answered sweetly, and Hethe burst out laughing. A small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips, too, before she glanced past him. She promptly flushed bright pink at what she saw, then ducked beneath the linen again.



Hethe glanced toward Templetun, his eyebrows rising as he saw that William was with the man. He supposed his first had been stuck out in the hall when the king's man had hesitated at the door, but Templetun had made his way cautiously into the room once Hethe had assured him there was nothing to fear. His first had apparently followed.



Hethe started to sit up, pausing when Helen immediately began to squeal and claw for the linens he was dragging with him. Biting his lip to keep from laughing, he shook his head and pushed the covering away, then stood up and grabbed for his breeches. "What are you doing here, William? I told Edwin to tell you - "



"Leicester and his Flemish mercenaries are captured. The king released us," William explained.



Hethe grunted as he pulled his breeches on; then straightened, picked up his tunic and headed for the door. "I needs must speak to Stephen."



"He is not here," William said.



At the same time, Templetun protested; "Now, just a moment, my lord."



Hethe paused and glanced from one man to the other. He decided to deal with Lord Templetun first.



"What?" he asked the man bluntly.



"Well." The king's chaplain appeared taken aback at Hethe's sharp, challenging tone. "W-we have not settled this yet."



"Settled what ?" Hethe asked, turning his tunic about in his hands. The shirt was inside out from when he had tugged it off last night. He took the time to put it right side out.



"The bedding," Templetun snapped. "I must be sure - "



"Good God, Templetun!" Hethe interrupted, a little annoyed at the man's persistence. He was like a dog, sniffing about where he wasn't wanted. "What do you think I was doing up here all night? The minute Mary managed to remove my wife's smell, the problem was solved. The marriage is consummated. Now let it go." He turned his attention back to his tunic, before glancing sharply back up to add, "Actually, now that I think on it, there is no need for you to waste your time here any longer. I am sure you must be eager to return to the king's side."



It was an invitation to leave Holden, and not a subtle one. Lord Templetun scowled slightly, then peered toward the bed. "Lady Helen?"



A moment passed; then she lowered the linens enough to peek out from them.



"Is the marriage consummated?" the old man asked quietly.



She nodded, her forehead and the tops of her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Templetun hesitated briefly, looking unsure whether to believe her or not; then his gaze suddenly sharpened and moved from Helen's salve-streaked face to Hethe's chest. He relaxed at once.



Glancing down, Hethe saw what had soothed the man's worries. His torso was streaked with dried salve. Hell, his whole body was probably streaked with the stuff, as was hers. The linens were quite a mess, too. They had been having a rather jolly romp, after all. Hethe looked over at Helen to see that she had also noticed the telltale marks of their activity.Flushinga bright red, his wife fell back, pulling the bedclothes over her face with an embarrassed groan.



"Very well," Lord Templetun conceded with satisfaction as he moved to the door. "William, you are my witness. These two both admit that the wedding is consummated. The marriage stands. I shall be leaving immediately after I break my fast."



"Have the servants bring up a fresh bath," Hethe called after the man as the door closed behind him. He was wondering if Templetun had heard and would do as he asked when William's shifting drew his gaze.



The knight was sidling toward the door. "Where is Stephen?" Hethe asked abruptly, bringing the man to a halt.



Sir William grimaced. "I am not sure. He had something he said he had to take care of. I know he left the bailey on horseback," he answered slowly, his gaze moving between his liege's grim countenance and the lump on the bed. "Is there a problem?"



"Aye." Hethe crumpled up his tunic, tossed it on the foot of the bed, then began stripping off his breeches. As he had suspected, the dried salve covered him everywhere. He had to clean himself up. He couldn't go around looking like this.



"What sort of problem?" William asked, and Hethe scowled at the thought of his underling's treacherous actions.



"He has been doling out punishments unsanctioned by me."



"Nay!"



Hethe nodded at his first's shock. "That is what was behind Lady Helen's letters of complaint. He has been abusing his power here and blaming it on me."



"Stephen?" William asked doubtfully. Hethe could fully understand the man's incredulity at such a betrayal. It was hard to believe. But there was no reason for Helen to lie about what she'd told him.



Besides, while he had not ordered those punishments given, Hethe did have a vague recollection of letters from Stephen mentioning the incidents she had listed, requesting directions on how to deal with them. He didn't recall what orders he had given the young knight, but knew it had not been to cut off anyone's hands, breasts or legs.



"Aye. Stephen," he answered solemnly. "I want to see him as soon as he returns to the keep."



"Shall I go find him? Bring him back to you?" William asked uncertainly. He appeared as troubled by the news as Hethe himself had been.



"Nay. It will wait until he returns," Hethe decided wearily, then glanced toward the bed. His anger faded somewhat at the sight of his wife lying there, so he turned back to his first. "Go on below and break your fast. I will join you shortly."



He waited until William left the room, then moved around the bed to Helen's side and gave her a light pat on the hip. Smiling to himself, he sat on the edge of the bed. When she pulled the linen down to peer at him questioningly, Hethe swooped in to press his lips to hers.



Helen remained still under his kiss at first, then relaxed against him. Her hands crept up to slip around his neck as she obviously remembered the night before and began to respond.



"Mmmm," Hethe murmured when he finally broke the kiss. "Good morning, wife."



"Good morning, husband," she said shyly, toying with the hair at the back of his neck.



He found himself grinning for no reason. She was just so adorable with her hair all over the place, her face salve-streaked and sleepy looking, and her lips swollen from his kiss. He raised a hand, caught the edge of the bedcover and dragged it down to her waist. His wife blushed but didn't protest, and he reached up to draw a finger between her naked breasts, then cup one gently.



"Your rash is nearly gone," he murmured, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger.



"Aye." She arched slightly to press her breast more fully into his hand, her own fingers reaching out to slide curiously over his chest.



Hethe cupped her other breast, too, squeezing gently. "Did you sleep well?"



"Well, but not long," she murmured, eyes suddenly sparkling. "Mayhap we should go back to bed."



"Back? You have not left bed yet," he pointed out with amusement. He let one hand slide down over her stomach and smiled when it quivered in reaction.



"True," she agreed breathlessly, squirming slightly as his hand continued across her hip, ran lightly down her outer leg, then fluttered up the inside of her thigh. Her legs spread for him, her breath catching in her throat, and her eyes dilated as he pressed his hand against the core of her.



"Are you coming back to bed?"



Hethe chuckled at the plaintive question and the way she was now tugging at his head with her hand, trying to pull him down for another kiss. Giving in to insistence, he leaned forward, kissing her as she wanted to be kissed, his tongue plunging into her mouth as he slid a finger inside her. He could feel her flesh close around him and shifting beside her on the bed, he drew his legs up, resting one across her shins while fondling and kissing her.



A knock at the door interrupted them, and Hethe was breathing heavily when he broke their kiss.



Raising his head, he glanced the length of their entwined bodies, then toward the door, debating whether to answer.



"Ignore them. They will go away," Helen gasped, trying to pull his head back down to hers, but Hethe resisted.



"It could be Stephen," he pointed out solemnly. "And I have neglected that situation for far too long."



Helen released a little sigh of regret as her husband's hand slid away. She knew he was right, of course.



It was morning. There were things for him to do. She was glad that he intended to take up his responsibilities here, but -  Her thoughts died as the knock sounded again. Anxious, she drew the linen back up to cover herself as Hethe shouted out, "Enter!"



It seemed Templetun had heard the request for a fresh bath. The door opened to reveal servants bearing another tub. As they entered, Hethe remained seated on the bed, completely oblivious of his nudity as he watched them quickly fill the tub with fresh warm water. Once that was done, the servants emptied out the used water from the night before, then lugged their pails and the used tub out and away.



Hethe waited until the door had closed once more before he sought out Helen's hand and stood, dragging her up with him.



"What are you - "



"You don't expect me to bathe alone, do you?" he asked wickedly, urging her across the floor to the newly filled bath. Helen glanced from his sparkling eyes to the tub with dismay.



"But there is not enough room."



"Want to wager on that?" Stepping into the water, her husband settled down in it, then drew her closer with the hand he still held. "Come."



"But..." Her protest died as he gave her a tug. Shaking her head, she stepped cautiously into the warm water, then stood eyeing him doubtfully with one foot on either side of his upraised knees. "There really is not enough room - Ah!" she shrieked as he caught her other hand and pulled her down. Caught by surprise, she stumbled slightly, dropped to sit on his knees, then slid down to rest on his hip, her eyes wide. She could feel his manhood beneath her, a hardening shaft pressed between their bodies.



"See? There is room," he said huskily. Cupping water in both his hands, he lifted it to pour it over her breasts.



"Not much," Helen replied with some amusement as he dug around the side of the tub until he found the soap. Rubbing it between his wet hands, he built a slight lather, then reached for her chest. A moment later, each hand found a breast and began to massage it expertly, spreading suds everywhere.



"You can wash my back, and I shall wash yours," her husband murmured, concentrating on what he was doing.



"That is not my back, my lord," Helen pointed out on a near groan, leaning closer with each breath.



Hethe didn't bother to respond, merely continuing to touch and fondle and soap her. She almost protested when his hands finally slid away over her stomach and arms. Opening eyes she didn't recall closing, she snatched up the soap from where it landed between their two bodies and began to return the favor. She had barely finished covering him with soapy lather when he pressed her nearer, so that they were chest to chest, and began to soap her back.



Helen squirmed against him, then leaned back slightly to peer into his eyes. "I..." she began, but he silenced her with a kiss, devouring her mouth as his hands slid over her. After a moment, his hands dropped lower. Cupping her bottom, he urged her forward, pulling her along his engorged shaft. Helen groaned into his mouth as the hard flesh caressed her, aware but uncaring of the water slopping out of the tub, as they shifted. She continued to grind against him when his hands left her, making a sound of protest as he broke the kiss and leaned to the side, but then she glanced over to see what he was doing. He was reaching for one of several full water buckets the servants had left behind. She had just enough time to close her eyes and mouth before he spilled it over them both, rinsing the soap away.



"What?" she gasped, pushing her now damp hair out of her eyes and peering at him in confusion. Hethe stared at her chest and smiled, making her glance down curiously. "What?" she asked again.



"There was something I wanted to do last night, but was not sure if I should," he explained. He set the now empty pail he was holding back on the floor.



"What was that?" Helen asked huskily. He met her gaze, a fire in his eyes she was beginning to adore.



"To lick and suckle your breasts," he answered slowly. "But I was not sure if it was safe with the salve on."



"Oh." Helen's eyes widened, her breathing becoming shallow as she suddenly imagined his head bent to her breasts, his lips caressing her in place of his hands. The image was incredibly erotic. Helen closed her eyes to enjoy it more fully, then popped them open as she felt his lips close warm and firm around one nipple.



Oh, dear. The reality of it was even more erotic than the imagining, and a moan slipped from her lips as she peered down at the top of Hethe's head and arched into his caress. Oh, yes, this was very nice. She felt his hands slide around her waist to pull her closer, then sighed as she was again rubbed intimately across his lap.



She caught his head in her hands, knotting her fingers through his hair as he suckled at first one breast, nipping and tugging gently, before moving to the other. Then she felt one of his hands drop down over her back, slide over her bottom and between her legs from behind. Fingers brushed lightly over the center of her, but he was at an awkward angle. She wasn't surprised when he drew his hand away, sliding it between them instead, and lowering it between her thighs.



She moaned at his first touch. Her legs instinctively tried to close but were stopped from doing so by his body. Tightening her hands in her husband's hair, she ground against his hand as he caressed her, tugged his mouth away from her breast to kiss him, aggressively plunging her tongue into his mouth as he had done to her countless times. Her kiss became desperate as his caress became more forceful, and she rode his hand, her movements instinctive rather than practiced. He was driving her mad - and she wanted more. Letting go of his head, she reached down between them, leaning into the kisses he trailed across her cheek to her ear, then down to her neck as she sought, then found, his manhood. Hethe stopped kissing her and leaned his forehead into her neck with a groan as she firmly clasped it. Unfortunately, she didn't know what to do with it now that she held it, but it seemed enough for Hethe.



"Witch," he murmured, slitting his eyes open as she curiously squeezed him. "Enchantress."



Helen smiled wickedly, but her mouth went round when, with the hand that caressed her so intimately, he plunged a finger inside. The sudden explosion of pleasure caused her to stiffen in shock, but a moment later he withdrew the finger and shifted beneath her. Before she could ask what he was doing, he had taken her by the waist and was rising out of the water, lifting her with him as he went.



Scooping her off her feet once he was standing, her husband stepped out of the tub and crossed the room, dripping water everywhere. Helen hit the bed with a bounce, and he came down on top of her, his mouth covering hers briefly before it slid away, brushing her neck, her collarbone, then taking turns at each breast as his hand worked between her legs.



Moaning and writhing, Helen clasped his shoulders and twisted her head, her hips jerking even as her legs closed instinctively around his hand. She felt him replace his mouth with his free hand at her breast; then he was pressing little nips and kisses across her belly, then to the crease of her thigh. She didn't realize where he was headed until he was there, and then she didn't care as he pressed her thighs further apart and his mouth took the place of his hand between her legs.



Helen cried out in desperate desire, her fingers clenching in the linens she lay upon and her head twisting wildly on the pillow as he feasted on her with his lips and tongue, pleasuring her in a way she had never imagined possible. She felt his hand slide up her thigh, then felt a finger slip inside her again; she nearly tumbled them both from the bed in her excitement. Hethe chuckled against her heated flesh, and she felt it all the way to her toes and back. Her body shuddered and convulsed, and she called out to him desperately, clasping him to her as she slid up her body and pressed his arousal against her spasming flesh.



His hard heat filled her, and as his mouth closed over hers. She rode the wave he set her on, her body tightening around him. He stoked her fire with long, slow strokes that seemed to prolong her pleasure, intensifying it even after its climax.



Swept away, Helen couldn't tell where the first wave of ecstasy ended and the second began, for he continued driving into her. Her body was singing beneath him.



Suddenly he shifted, straightening enough to draw her legs up over his shoulders. Leaning against them left his hands free to cover her breasts, and he took advantage of that, fondling her as he drove deeper inside her, each stroke coming harder and faster than the one before until they both cried out and found release.