“God, aye,” she moaned against his cheek. “That feels good.” Without encouragement, she began to slowly move her hips.
’Twas the most seductive, alluring encounter he’d ever had with a woman. As she rode him, he caressed her breasts, her stomach and hips. With her hands on his chest, she clung to his tunic as she took her pleasure.
There was no false pretense on her part. No pretending, no play acting. His wife, this wee woman, was filled with passion and not afraid to show that most intimate part of herself to him. She was a confusing, confounding, beautiful creature and for the life of him, he didn’t know what he should think about that.
Earlier, before Richard had come to their bed chamber, Aeschene was fighting an inner battle of sorts. More specifically, ’twas a battle between what her mother had told her about joining with a man and what Marisse had told her.
Elspeth was quite insistent that the entire matter of joining with one’s husband was simply one of a wife’s many duties. As long as ye lay still and quiet, ’twill all be over before ye even realize it, her mother had told her. Close yer eyes and try to think of somethin’ else.
What her mother had said of loving and joining was in stark contrast to everything Marisse had told her. Och! ’Tis a most wondrous, delightful thing that happens betwixt man and wife.
When Aeschene had shared with her friend the advice received from her mother, Marisse laughed until she had tears in her eyes. Och! Do not just lay there, Aeschene! She had exclaimed. Enjoy every moment of it, because ye do not ken how long ’twill last. She was, of course, referring to her husband who had died after only three weeks of marriage.
So back and forth her heart went, betwixt her mother’s advice and Marisse’s. Growing cold with waiting for her husband, she had climbed in under the furs. She could hear the sound of thunder in the distance, a soft rumbling sound which reminded her of Richard. She dozed off and on as she tried to picture what it would be like to finally become a woman.
Her heart nearly cleaved in twain when Richard appeared and said he would leave her to her sleep. From where she drew the courage to speak her mind, she couldn’t say, but draw upon it she did.
When he finally admitted he did not wish to cause her physical harm, she grew bloody furious with him. I be not a cripple! She repeated over and over in her mind. I can do anythin’ any other woman can do, including join with her husband. She wished she’d been a bit braver and put her protests to voice.
When Richard pulled her in for the kiss, her anger fell away in an instant and she decided to listen to Marisse’s good advice. She would savor and enjoy every moment of joining with her husband. For far too many years, she’d been alone and lonely. Too many years of wondering what could have been had she not lost her sight. Too many years spent trying to be the good and dutiful daughter, guilt ridden for not living up to her father’s high standards, and wasting away. ’Twas an awful existence and one she was quite happy to be away from.
There was a moment or two, when she was struggling to rid herself of her night dress, and again when she urged him to remove his clothing, that she wondered if she should not slow herself down. The last thing she wanted was for her husband to think her a harlot or a woman of questionable moral character. All she knew was she needed to be free of her nightclothes. More than anything, she wanted to feel her skin pressed against his.
She struggled to rid her husband of his tunic. The material scratched against her bare skin. Holding her hand tightly to keep her from tearing it away, he whispered into her ear. “Nay.”
Deciding it best for now to hold her tongue, she stopped her attempts. Mayhap ‘twould be best for him to lead the way.
Richard pressed sweet, tender kisses on her cheeks before moving to her neck. With gentle hands, he caressed her stomach, thighs, and arms. When she remembered to breathe, she discovered she rather enjoyed the way his calloused hands felt against her skin. His lips were warm and soft.
’Twas as if he were on a great exploration of sorts, trying to discover what pleased her.
But the physical ache deep in her belly took a tight hold and before she knew it, she was on top of her husband, giving way to passion and desire. She had much to offer this world, much to offer her husband. She refused to play victim or innocent or cripple. Nay, she demanded with her actions that he look upon her as a woman. A strong, capable and desirable woman.
“God’s teeth, ye’re goin’ to kill me,” Richard muttered as she tried to slow her pace by placing his palms on her hips.
Aeschene came to an abrupt stop and opened her eyes. “Ye can die from this?” she asked, most sincerely.
’Twas all he could do not to laugh at her distress. When he saw her wounded expression, he caressed her cheeks with the backs of his fingers. “Do not fash over it, lass. I was only jesting.”
She made a mental note to tell him later, much later, not ever to jest when they were joining. Before she could think another thought, Richard rolled over, taking her with him.
Slowly, rhythmically, he moved his hard member in and out while he continued to caress her skin. His kisses were hot and she was quite certain bordered on sinful. But she didn’t care and she didn’t want this moment to end.
Oh, how she wanted to feel his bare skin against her own, but he refused to remove his tunic. The linen fabric and leather ties rubbed against her tender skin. ’Twas naught more than a nuisance, for the pleasure she was feeling elsewhere overpowered any other sensation.
His lips left hers, kissing a hot trail down her cheek, her neck, and shoulders. When his lips settle around the taught peak of her breast, she sucked in a deep breath. Slowly, his tongue twirled the outer edges until she thought she’d go mad with desire. All the while he continued to thrust in and out of her slowly.
A sensation unlike anything she had ever felt before began to build deep within her. Hot, demanding, and intense. It grew and built with each flick of his tongue against her breast. Unable to stand the slow pace, she urged him to go faster, increasing the rhythm of her hips.
“God’s teeth,” he whispered against her breast. “Ye are so hot, so beautiful.”
That deep, intense sensation continued to grow, especially after he whispered those sweet words. Grinding her hips against him, she no longer worried over anything, least of all whether or not he thought her a harlot. Her body took over and she finally found what it had been searching for.
He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted her. Richard had fully intended to simply join with her in the hopes of making an heir. But as soon as he felt her soft skin against his calloused hands, every previous thought fell to the wayside.
Passion and desire consumed him.
While he would have rather enjoyed taking his time to explore her glorious curves, Aeschene would have none of it. With each touch, he was met with her uninhibited, unbridled passion, her soft sighs and moans of pleasure. When she was on top of him, ’twas one of the most sensual, exotic moments that he could ever remember experiencing.
He’d been with countless women in his youth, before the mangling of his face. Aye, he had thoroughly enjoyed each and every one of those experiences.
But this? With Aeschene? Nay, joining with her was so different. It damned near bordered on the celestial.