Boyett-Compo, Charlotte - Wyndmaster 1 (10 page)

"He's going to be so angry," she said.

"Let him," he said and shifted so he could lie facing her. He held his breath for the pain was worse than

he expected.

"No," she said and sat up, gently putting her hand to his shoulder to press him down flat again. "That puts

too much strain on your wounds."

The sheet slid down to his hips—barely covering the thick hair at his thighs. He was unaware the

material had tented up around his erection until he saw her gaze drifting downward.

"May I look?" she asked, color flooding her cheeks.

He couldn't have answered had his very life depended on it. All he did was nod.

Hesitantly, she picked up the edge of the cover between her thumb and index finger and carefully lifted

it. He saw her eyes widen. "Oh, my," she said, letting the sheet drop. She slowly swiveled her gaze to

his. "Is it supposed to look like that? I mean be stiff and hard looking like that?"

Sierran groaned. "Milady…" he began.

She lifted the sheet again and took a longer look. "And it seems to be leaking something from the tip.

Should it be doing that?"

"Milady!" he hissed, snatching the sheet from her. "You shouldn't…you can't…." He felt his face

burning.

Celeste frowned. "Well, how am I to know these things if you don't tell me?" she asked. "You are my

husband, after all. You should be instructing me, shouldn't you?"

Sierran was grinding his teeth together. His cock was as rigid as a steel bar and aching so fiercely he

forgot about the other pains plaguing his body. He was clutching the covers as though he were a virgin,

himself, and hiding from the lecherous view of a young woman intent on seducing him. That she was

seducing him with every look, every whiff of her sweet body, every movement she made as she lay there

turned toward him, her gaze wandering over his chest like a velvet glove, was evident to him if not to her.

"Milady, please don't look at me like that," he whined.

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like you're about to make a meal of me," he complained.

"Well, pooh, Sierran," she exclaimed. "How am I supposed to look at you, then?" She flopped to her

back, folding her arms over her chest. "Would you prefer me to be a simpering miss afraid of her own

shadow as well as your dangly?"

"Dangly?" He nearly choked on the word.

"That's what it's called, isn't it?" she asked. "I once heard the scullery maids discussing a man's parts and

she called them danglies and droopies. Once I watched the scullery maid and her lover when they were

making love." A crease formed on her forehead. "Are droopies those things hanging down beneath the

dangly?"

That was simply all he could take. He was staring at her with his mouth open, his eyebrows lifted. She

was staring up at the ceiling and some wild, savage little imp made him toss the covers back.

"Look all you like, wench," he said around a clenched jaw.

Celeste grinned and sat up.

Sierran thought he would come from just seeing her lush breasts. Pert and full, they drew his eye like a

magnet and he had to tear himself away from ogling her when he realized she was looking down at his

cock.

She stared unabashedly at him—taking in everything from the mat of dark curls at his thighs to the

dangly standing at attention before his two soft-looking—though wrinkled—droopies. Her eyes went

down his long legs then snapped back to that which interested her the most. She glanced up at him.

"May I touch it? Please?"

"By all means," he said, his teeth locked together, his hands gripping the sheet beneath his hips. His gaze

had gone back to the coral nipples that were beckoning him like a siren's song.

Tentatively pointing a finger to his manhood, she just poked it—once, twice—pushing it to one side.

"Oh, for the love of Alel. It isn't a dead snake, madame!" he snapped. He reached out and took her

wrist. "Wrap your fingers around it!"

A pout on her pretty lips at his rude tone, Celeste did as he said. A strange look came over her face and

she looked up at him. "It is soft," she said, "but hard at the same time." She cocked her head to one side.

"How can that be?"

"He is engorged," Sierran said, hating talking about his cock as though it had an identity of its own.

"Engorged with what?" she asked innocently.

He didn't have an answer for that—or at least something he could say to an innocent woman like his

wife. "Stuff," was the best he could come up with on such short notice.

"Stuff," she said and when he let go of her wrist, she ran her hand lightly up and down the rigid length.

"And that stuff comes out when you…" She cocked a shoulder. "You know."

"Aye, wench, I do know," he said. "But do you?"

She slid her thumb up to the moist droplet that clung to the tip of his cock. "This is the stuff. It's what

makes babies, isn't it?" She unhanded him and brought her hand up to look at the moisture clinging to her

thumb. When she sniffed at it, that was his undoing.

"For the love of Alel, Celeste!" he said. "You are killing me here!"

She met his gaze. "How am I killing you, milord?"

"Look at it!' he said. “He wants you and you're sitting there with your beautiful tits teasing me and your

lips all full and…" He whimpered. "I want you, Celeste!"

"You want to put your dangly inside me?" she asked.

"Oh, gods, do I want to put my dangly inside you!" he replied fiercely.

"All right," she said brightly, completely unafraid of what might come. She lay down and spread her legs

for him. "I am to wrap my legs around you when you climb atop me, aren't I?" she asked.

Sierran didn't think his face could turn any redder but at her words, he thought the flesh would slough off

from the heat infusing it. "How the hell did you…?" He shook his head. "Never mind," he said,

remembering that she had told him about her father’s servants. "The scullery maid."

She giggled. "I watched from my window."

"And she and her lover were a veritable font of information, eh?" he snapped.

"They seemed to be enjoying themselves," she said with a comical hitch of her shoulders.

He realized he was quivering from head to toe and it wasn't merely from the wild lust that was driving

him. He was acutely afraid of lying atop her and pressing the cuts that her father had sliced into him.

When he hesitated, she seemed to read his mind.

"Oh, Sierran," she said, sitting up again, her breast jiggling in such a way he thought he'd explode wanting

to suckle the rosy tips. "You can't lay on me!"

"Why not?" he demanded. If it killed him, he was going to have this tantalizing chit—one way or another!

"I'll have to climb atop you," she said in a matter-of-fact tone and before he could stop her, she'd raised

up and straddled him, giving him enough of a view of the crisp curls between her legs to make his balls

feel as though they'd explode. "Can't I stuff it in me like this?"

He never got a chance to answer for she grabbed hold of him and impaled herself upon him. His eyes

went as wide as hers did.

"Ouch!" she cried out. "Ouch, ouch, ouch! That hurt!" She would have peeled off him but his hands

slammed down to her hips to hold her still.

"It's supposed to hurt a bit, wench," he said, grinding his teeth. "It won't ever hurt again."

She wriggled on him, her face showing both her displeasure and her uncertainty. "Are you sure?" she

asked.

"Oh, gods, I am so sure," he said, groaning as her sheath clamped around his rigid rod. "It will only feel

good from now on."

She lifted herself just a little—seemed to be testing what he said—then settled down on him again. She

smiled tentatively. "If you say so, Sierran."

Her hips beneath his palms were like warm silk and he caressed her, looking up at her beautiful breasts

and aching to run his hands over them.

She cocked her head to one side. "What do I do now?"

"Just sit there," he said in a husky voice as he slid his hands up her ribcage and onto the lush mounds that

beckoned him.

"Oh, yes," she said, nodding. "I remember he touched her like that. Are you going to suckle me, too?"

He could not have imagined his cock could get any harder but at her innocent question his shaft leapt

inside her.

"Ooh," she said, her eyes widening. "Do that again!"

As he ran his trembling hands over her breasts, he made his rod pulse once more and he heard her sigh

with contentment.

"I like that, Sierran," she said and shifted her hips upon his.

"Wench," he said with a warning growl. "If you don't stay still, I'll come and you won't get the pleasure I

want to give you."

"Come?" she said innocently.

"Come," he said with exasperation. "As in releasing my….stuff!"

"Oh." She stopped wriggling against him.

He ran his thumb over her nipples and he could tell it was all she could do to remain still. Her head fell

back—thrusting her breasts fuller against his hands—and she groaned.

"You like that?" he asked.

"Oh, aye, Sierran," she whispered. "I do, indeed, like that. I see now why the scullery maid was making

all those noises and…"

He lightly pinched her nipples between his thumb and middle finger and she nearly shot off his rod.

"I feel…" she said, lowering her head to stare at him with eyes as wide as saucers. “It’s itching down

there and there's this thing…" Her mouth opened. "Oh! Oh!
Oh!
"

Her climax rippled around him so unexpectedly he barely had time to clamp his hands to her hips to hold

her steady upon him.

"Sierran!" she cried out, her hands slamming down to his wrists as she bounced on her knees, pumping

her lower body instinctively up and down his rigid shaft.

He watched her breasts jiggling, saw the red flush that spread over her upper chest and felt her tight little

sheath milking him. There was no way for him to prolong his own release and didn't even try.

The moment her husband's shaft bucked within her and she felt him jammed as far inside her as he could

go, an intense sensation rocketed through her that threatened to take the top of her head off. She was

vibrating around him and he was squirting inside her and she was clawing at his wrists, pressing down

against him until the last spasm shook her.

"Oh," she whispered, breathing heavily, her entire body quivering. Her head was thrown back, her eyes

closed, her hands wrapped around his wrists.

Sierran lay there watching her and began to feel the strangest sensation flittering through his heart. She

was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her lush body fit his as though they had been fashioned

from the same mound of clay, meant to be together, and created as one.

"Can it happen that quickly?" he asked.

Celeste's eyelids fluttered open and she lowered her head. "Don't you know?" she asked. "You should

know more about such things than I."

He shook his head. "I don't mean the orgasm, sweeting. What I am feeling I have never experienced

before and never thought to."

Her sweet face broke into a gentle smile. "Are you falling in love with me, Sierran?" she asked.

"Aye, Celeste," he said, marveling at the tender emotion that was flooding him. "I believe I am."

"Then I suppose it can happen that quickly for I have a very strong feeling toward you, too," she stated.

She eased off him and lay down, stretching out beside him, careful not to touch the tortured flesh on his

chest. She turned so she could look at him. "You are all I could have wished for in a man."

Sierran chuckled. "And what was it you wished for, milady?"

Her eyes roamed over his face. "Well, he had to be handsome and you are that." She laced her fingers

through his. "He had to be strong and virile and powerful. I believe you fit those requirements. He had to

be determined enough to take me from my father and you certainly accomplished that."

"For perhaps the wrong reason at first," he admitted.

She shrugged. "Perhaps but you had every right to want to punish him for what he did to you." Her

lashes lowered over her vibrant eyes. "I no longer have any illusions about what my father is. All he ever

did was lie to me. I had no idea he was such a monster."

His hand tightened on hers. "He never had any intention of ever allowing you to live a normal life,

Celeste. If I never give you another thing, at least I gave you freedom."

She lifted her gaze to him. "And imprisoned my heart in the doing," she said quietly.

He had yet to kiss her and that sweet temptation of a mouth with its full, coral lips drew him like a bee to

honey. Turning with some effort toward her, he pushed himself up on his elbow and leaned over her,

slanting his mouth gently over hers.

Celeste did not know what to expect from a man's kiss so she did not open her lips when his covered

hers. His tongue was hot as he probed at her mouth but she had no idea what she was supposed to do.

When he began nibbling on her bottom lip, she giggled, and as soon as her lips parted, his tongue swept

inside, impaling her as his dangly had slipped between her legs.

Sierran put his hand to her breast and began kneading the satiny flesh, increasing the depth of his kiss as

he did. The fingers of his left hand were threaded with the fingers of her right but she reached up to rake

the fingers of her other hand through his hair, instinctively pressing his head toward her, deepening the

kiss even more. When he heard her little groan of pleasure, he inwardly smiled. He pulled back, releasing