A MARRIAGE IS CONSUMMATED
Rubina walked into the sickroom. It was two weeks after Camden had been found. He was propped up on the pillows and he smiled at her.
“Good morning!” she said, feeling happy just to see him. “You said you had something to show me?”
He nodded. “I did.”
She watched in amazement as, shifting to the edge of the bed he put his foot down and carefully put his weight onto it. He was standing. Holding onto the post of the bed, he took a slow, lurching step. Then another. He was walking.
“Camden!” Rubina clapped her hands onto her cheeks in amazement. “My dear! That's remarkable!”
It was remarkable. With the extent of the burn wounds to his legs, she would never have expected him to be able to walk after so short a time. The burns were still partly open, though some of the weeping, angry flesh was white-pink and puckered round the edges where the burns were starting to heal.
“I could go downstairs, almost,” Camden said.
“Whist!” Rubina chuckled, walking over to stand beside him. “No, you mustn't. I'm not letting you do anything foolish until that skin has healed over. You're precious to me, Camden.”
He was a hand's breadth away from her. Close enough for her to see his eyes widen and then narrow in surprise.
“I am?”
The melting look of surprise on his face tugged at her heart. She chuckled.
“Yes,” she said and, slowly and tenderly, she leaned forward. He must have had the same thought. He leaned against her and, warm and tender, their lips met. She breathed out sharply. The soft slide of his tongue over the parting of her lips made something in her abdomen clench with wanting.
She looked into his eyes. He nodded.
He took her wrist and leaned back and, slowly, gently, pulled her onto the bed. He was wearing a clean linen nightshirt and, this close, he smelled of spices and musk. She found herself in his arms, her face buried against his shoulder, breathing in his scent.
“Rubina...”
She sat up, grinned and flushing. “Wait,” she reprimanded gently. He looked after her with stricken eyes as she stood.
“Why?”
“I need to close the door,” she said.
Relief flooded his face. He smiled at her and she couldn't help grinning back. She walked over, feeling warm inside. She sat down beside him, feeling a delighted laugh escape her throat. It was morning, the sun pale in a cloudy sky outside. However, it was their wedding night.
“Camden McInvering,” she said with a warm smile, “I think I should advise caution, as your healer.”
His eyes danced with warmth as he looked into her own. “And I, as your patient, am inclined toward being reckless.”
She smiled. “I think I like the sound of that.”
Her breathless giggle died under the firmness of his lips. He thrust his tongue between them, pushing her down onto the bed. She gasped and her gasp was stopped by his firm kiss. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him. He might be injured, but his grip was strong.
She felt her fingers stroke his back. He had become thinner since the injury and fever, but the muscle was still thick, cording his back like rope. She felt her heart thumping excitedly as he leaned forward and pushed her down onto the pillows, gently stroking her hair.
“Rubina,” he murmured. “My sweetest one.”
“Camden,” she whispered. “Oh! My dearest.”
She felt her heart swell even as her body leaped with excitement as his hands, slowly and tenderly, explored her shoulders. He reached behind her for the button of her gown and she sighed as he unfastened it, and then the next.
She shivered as the cold air brushed her skin. He was looking into her eyes as he unbuttoned the gown behind her, one button at a time. The look of focused intensity, of intense desire, made her shiver and she felt it resonate with the intense longing she felt, a slow flame in her womb.
He drew the dress down her body and she reached up and pulled his lips to hers so that as he unfastened the buttons down her back, their lips clasped and they breathed unanimously.
She felt her body melting into his chest, hard and muscled, as he clasped her to him and slowly, carefully, worked the dress down her body. When it reached her feet he let it fall to the floor. She lay back on the pillow in her under-dress.
He smiled down at her. “At least now we are at an equal advantage,” he said, looking with sparkling eyes at his own nightshirt. She raised a brow.
“Well, if I take it off, I will claim the advantage again.”
He laughed, his eyes bright with wonder. “Indeed, my lady.”
“Well, then?” she smiled languidly and reached for his shoulder.
“I will take the challenge,” he said gallantly and stripped off the nightshirt. She stared.
His body was all muscle – it was lean and sinewy now, since the fever, where once she imagined it was sleeker and more bulky – but it was nonetheless irresistible to her. She reached out a hand and ran it down his chest between the thick pads of muscle there, stroking down his breastbone to his hard abdomen.
He smiled and his eyes brightened with longing.
“My lady,” he said. His voice was a growl of excitement.
She felt that voice shiver down into her bones. She closed her eyes and shivered with wanting as he, slowly and deliberately, drew the shift down from her shoulder and untied the neck.
When she was naked, he sat back and looked down at her. Rubina felt herself flush, but it was a blush of warmth, of pride. She loved the way it felt to have him look at her like that. She saw how his gaze lingered on her body and she felt happy to share that joy in it.
“My lady,” he said hoarsely. “You're beautiful.”
“So are you,” she whispered. She meant it. He blushed. Their eyes met.
He reached out a hand and, slowly, deliberately, stroked it down her body. He reached her thighs and gently parted them. She tensed, and then relaxed as he moved back.
“I will never hurt you,” he said. “Trust me?”
She nodded. “We promised, remember?”
He smiled. “So we did.”
What he did next surprised her. With her legs gently parted, he moved down the bed. His lips lit fire in their wake and when he moved them to the parting of her thighs her eyes clenched tight in ecstasy.
She felt him touch her, lick her gently and her body was pulsing and shivering, her tummy filled with a sweet, tickling urgency that built and built and built.
The feeling blasted through her, enveloping her in warmth. She cried out, part agony and part ecstasy, as it flowed into her and through her and carried her away.
When she opened her eyes again, he was kneeling up between her thighs. He smiled at her.
“You're well?”
She chuckled. “I have never felt better.”
Her own voice sounded drowsy and so happy that it made her want to laugh. He smiled.
“Good,” he said gently.
She looked at his hard, lean body and as he parted her thighs and gently leaned forward, she felt a slight frisson of worry. He looked into her eyes and positioned himself.
When he slid into her, she gasped with wonder. It felt remarkable! He pushed in further and it hurt, suddenly. She moaned and he took her hand and gently pushed in further. The pain stopped and the bliss that followed it was so intense that she groaned aloud.
“My dear,” he murmured as he withdrew and pushed in again. “My dearest dear.”
He moved, she moved, and then there was no border between them as their bodies learned each other and responded like a single creature. She felt herself shivering and the feeling that she knew now, only more intense, began to course through her, just as she saw on his face and heard in his sigh that he felt it, too.
She cried out just before he did. He collapsed onto her. His hips moved once or twice and then he lay still, spent. She held him in her arms and they lay together. Soon, they fell asleep.
She woke to hear him saying her name. They kissed and then made love again, and again, and it was only when the sun had shifted, shining onto the bed at late afternoon, that they woke and realized, with surprise, that almost all the day had passed. It was their wedding night more surely than any other thing could be. Their love was realized at last and they were so happy together.