The Seducer

“May I ask you to make haste and sate your lust once we arrive in the turret? I would have this duty behind me as soon as is possible. I have no need for sweet words or kisses.”

What kind of female had he wed? Maids, mistresses, wives…all women loved kissing. And in truth, he enjoyed the sweet beginnings, the flutters and starts of learning a new lover, searching for the unexpected touch that had her sighing and squirming.

They came to a landing. And Elaina had enjoyed her first kiss, that he knew with utmost certainty. He reached for her shoulders, spun her around, and found her mouth with his.

She stiffened and pummeled his ribs.

Refusing to be daunted, he stroked her spine, sipped on the soft satin of one lip, tickled a tantalizing corner, and explored the dimple in her chin.

He kept his movements light, tempting her to open more. Her rigid back softened, and he touched the tip of her tongue with his. Unable to resist, he cupped a breast and thumbed her nipple into full blossom. She shivered and her mouth opened. He swallowed her surprised huff, tasting her deeply.

She let him have his way, quieting like a cooing dove, snuggling into his groin. Her legs trembled against his, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. She rubbed against him, and he suckled her lip. Her fingers fluttered on his neck. He stroked her tongue. She gripped his tunic, and a low sound bubbled between their fused lips, a soft, sweet moan.

Slowly, he loosened his hold, kissed the tip of her nose and one winged brow, then wrapped his arms around her back. “You may not need the sweet words and kisses, Elaina, but I do. Are you rested enough to continue?”

He heard her teeth snap together, grinned, and let go of her. Such fire meant passionate bedsport.

She shook out her chemise. “I have no need of resting again. I will climb to the top without stopping.”

“Have mercy on me lady, for I will most cert need to catch my breath at the top of each turn.”

Elaina seemed ready to beat the angels to the turret, and Jarvik quickened his footsteps. She sprinted, her gait fierce and pounding. He feared she would tangle her feet in her hem. He lurched to the same step on which she stood and embraced her from behind.

She tried to elbow away from him, and he tightened his hold.

“And are you maiden, sweet wife? I would know now. You have been without a man’s protection for some time. Have any taken you by force?” He caged her loosely against the wall, smelled her hair, and touched a finger to her shoulder. “Are you a maid or not? Aye or nay. You need not say more.”

“Aye.”

He kissed the top of her head, shifted, and drew her cheek to his chest. “’Tis a boon I had not expected.”

A strangled sound escaped her lips. “I know not why you do this.”

He caught her wrists, turned her palms up, and kissed first one then the other. “’Tis a move on a Fox and Geese board, our marriage this eve. A move I had not anticipated.”

“So Máel Coluim leads the game with the sacrificial goose. Me?”