All thoughts about scars fled away when she felt his hands caress her buttocks, her back and shoulders. Excitement, thrilling in its intensity, rushed through her veins. ’Twas difficult to breathe let alone to think.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, lifting her up and laid her on the bed. Not once did his lips leave hers. She sank into the feather mattress. Jagged breaths, hands exploring, soft caresses, passionate kisses.
He was over her, keeping his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her. His sweet, decadent lips leaving kisses along her cheek before moving to her neck. She wanted him, needed him desperately. Not once did he protest or pull her hands away when she explored his back, his torso with her trembling fingers. She ached for him.
Wriggling her hips in a silent plea, he refused her.
“Wheest, lass,” he whispered against her neck. “This night, I want to take my time with ye. I want to explore every glorious curve of ye. Please, do nae deny me my entreaty.”
She couldn’t deny him anything, not when he kissed her as he was doing. Willing her breaths to slow, she relaxed against the mattress, her arms falling away from him.
And take his time he did; kissing, nibbling, tasting her neck, her breasts, her stomach. He touched her in places he hadn’t before, driving her near to madness.
Scooping her up with one arm, he rolled to his back, bringing her with him. He squeezed her tightly before gently pushing her to sit. He said naught but placed tender kisses into her palms before placing each of her palms on his cheeks.
She felt the jagged scar; the scar that had tormented him the past many years. Tears pooled, threatening to spill, the ache in her heart was profound. “Who did this to ye?” she asked, her voice but a whisper.
“Does it matter?” he asked as he rubbed his scarred cheek into her palm.
“Aye, it does husband,” she said as anger started to bubble up.
“Why?”
“I would have the name of the man who did this so that I might kill him.”
Richard chuckled. “He is dead.”
“Good,” she said with a nod.
“I dinnae ken ye were such a vengeful lass.”
She touch her forehead to his. “When those I care for are hurt? Then aye, I am a vengeful woman.”
“Ye care for me?” he teased as he began to caress her back.
She drew in a deep breath, enjoying the way his calloused hands felt against her skin. “Aye, husband, I do.”
For not the first time he was glad she could not see. Her words, softly spoken yet deeply felt, nearly unmanned him.
“Richard? Can I ask a boon of ye?”
“I would deny ye nothing, Aeschene.” He continued to caress her back, his large hands splayed open, savoring the silky softness.
“I would ask that ye always be honest with me. Even if ye think yer words would injure me. Please, can ye give me yer word on this?”
“Aye, lass, I give ye my word. From this day forward, I will always speak honestly with ye.”
Tilting her head to one side, she said, “No matter what?”
“No matter what,” he agreed.
He sealed his promise with a kiss.
Dawn was hours away. Aeschene woke after the midnight hour to the soft crackling of embers in the hearth. Something heavy was draped around her waist. It took several moments before she realized ’twas her husband’s arm. A sense of contentment she knew she had felt before filled her to her core.
She snuggled more closely, soaking up his heat, blissfully gratified to know he hadn’t left. Closing her eyes, she listened to his steady breaths as they caressed her neck. This, this is what I have longed for. This.
Relishing in the feel of his bare skin against hers, she sighed most contentedly. He had loved her for hours last eve to the point her bones felt as strong as jam. Warmth enveloped her when she thought back to the delightfully wicked things he had done with his mouth. She cared not if what they’d done would be considered sinful or unseemly. What happened betwixt man and wife was no one’s business but their own.
Filled with a sense of peace, she drifted off to sleep again, wrapped in the cocoon of her husband’s warm embrace.
They didn’t leave their chamber for two solid days. Richard ordered all their meals brought to their room. On the eve of their second night in seclusion, he had a tub brought in. His men carried in buckets of steaming water and not a one of them said a word. Aeschene had buried herself under the furs to avoid having to speak with any of them for she was completely devoid of clothing.
Once the last bucket was poured, Richard pulled the furs away from her. Pressing a tender kiss to her temple, he said, “Yer bath awaits, my lady.”
Aeschene giggled, thoroughly enjoying more of their playful banter. So much had changed between she and he. Gone was the biting tension, the nervousness, the worry that had kept them from enjoying each other.
Taking her hand in his, he led her to the tub and helped her in. She sank into the steamy water feeling every bit an adored woman. Leaning back, she let her head rest against the tub, the water instantly soothing her tired muscles. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath and sighed most contentedly.
Her relaxation was quickly interrupted by her husband. “What are ye doin’?” She asked with wide eyes.
“Tending to my lady wife,” he drawled most seductively as he smoothed a bar of soap down her arms.
“Relax,” he said encouragingly.
“How am I to relax when ye’re doing that?”
He chuckled mischievously, never taking his eyes from her as he drew the soap over her arms and shoulders. Rivulets of water cascaded across her skin, glimmering in the candlelight. Lord above, he would never tire of loving her, of hearing her soft sighs of pleasure, of hearing her call out his name when she was in the wild throes of passion.
With great care, he poured water over her hair. Lathering soap in his hands, he washed every strand of her glorious locks. It took monumental strength not to pull her from the tub and make sweet love to her, especially when she moaned and sighed with delight. “That feels so very nice, Richard.”
His need burgeoned painfully. Not wanting her to think he was a lecher, he took his time rinsing her hair as he gently massaged her scalp. Part of him wanted this moment to last forever. Another part of him was trying to free itself from his trews.
When he could take no more, he helped her to stand. Her skin turned to gooseflesh as he poured more warm water over her shoulders. She began to shiver in the cool air. He wrapped a drying cloth around her and lifted her out of the tub. “God’s teeth, ye are beautiful,” he whispered on a gentle kiss.
He loved her quite thoroughly that eve, until they were both out of breath and their bones feeling as strong as jam. Aeschene had fallen asleep, curled and nestled next to him. Richard however, lay awake for a long while, thinking about how much his life had changed of late.
He loved his wife, he truly did. But something - and just what that something was he couldn’t quite put his finger to - kept him from giving her those words. It could have been simply fear that kept him mute. Fear that she didn’t love him quite the same way he loved her. Or, more likely than not, it could have been lingering guilt. Guilt that he was loving and enjoying his wife while his family lay dead in the cold hard earth.