Whisper To Me of Love (45 page)
Read Whisper To Me of Love Online
Authors: Shirlee Busbee
They might have stood there indefinitely staring besottedly at each other if Chambers, a broad smile on his face, hadn't coughed discreetly and murmured, “Sir, madam, since it is very fine, I have taken the liberty of having Cook prepare a picnic supper for you.” Not quite looking at them, apparently fascinated by the architecture of the staircase behind them, a staircase he had seen
numerous
times before, he added casually, “I believe that the lake is quite pleasant this time of day.”
numerous
times before, he added casually, “I believe that the lake is quite pleasant this time of day.”
Royce couldn't help laughing at such overt manipulation, and turning to look at his butler's now carefully bland face, he said jestingly, “If Wellington had men of your caliber with him at Waterloo, it is no wonder that Napoleon was defeated! Such expert maneuvering, I have never before encountered!”
Chambers's lips twitched, but he bowed and asked, “Would you like me to bring you the basket?”
Glancing at Morgana and seeing her pleased expression, Royce nodded. “An excellent idea!” he replied instantly, wanting very much to keep his bride happy.
Carrying a large wicker basket and some blankets and soft pillows, Morgana and Royce left the house a short time later, sped on their way by a beatifically smiling Chambers. Leisurely they strolled down one of the many flower-lined, winding paths that crisscrossed the property, enjoying the sweet scent of violets and roses that drifted in the warm summer air. They wandered aimlessly, having no particular destination in mind, stopping every now and then to admire an especially pretty view or an eye-catching blossom or bush.
Eventually they settled on a spot, out of sight of the house, near the shore of the lake, and they spread their blankets and scattered the pillows under the wide, spreading arms of a magnificent English oak tree. The light meal that Ivy had prepared had been deliciousâcrusty meat-filled tarts, an artichoke pie, mild yellow cheese, a loaf of bread still warm from the oven, and for dessert, juicy purple grapes and plump red strawberries glistening from their dusting with sugar. Royce detected Chambers's fine hand in the three bottles of superb hock they found in the hamper, and having done a fairly decent job of demolishing the repast, Morgana popped one last sweet strawberry in her mouth and declared blissfully that she had never eaten a meal that tasted so good.
Together they repacked the basket, Royce keeping out the half-full bottle of hock which was all that remained of the wine, and then they settled themselves comfortably on the blanket, content just to enjoy the solitude and tranquillity of the waning afternoon. Morgana, a soft pillow behind her shoulders, rested against the trunk of the oak tree, Royce's head in her lap, and her fingers toyed gently with his thick, tawny hair. Dreamily she stared down into his relaxed features, almost painfully conscious that she had never been so happy in her entire life. She wanted to hug this moment to her, to capture it, to always be able, no matter what the future might hold, to live again this time of sweet contentment.
Royce suddenly caught her straying fingers and, bringing her palm to his mouth, pressed a decidedly erotic kiss against the soft flesh, shattering the tranquil spell that had overtaken them. “Now that my stomach has been satisfied, I think there are other, ah, appetites that we should consider appeasing, don't you?” he murmured against the tingling skin of her palm.
At his words and the touch of his lips against her flesh, Morgana was instantly aware of an inescapable stinging heat cascading through her body; her breasts suddenly seemed heavy and aching, the nipples tightening, and where Royce's head lay cradled by her thighs, she was conscious of a throbbing, insistent hunger that burst into being. Her cheeks flushed, her fingers ceased their movements, and mesmerized by the hungry glitter in his golden eyes, she stammered breathlessly, “H-H-Here? Outs-s-side?”
Royce shifted slightly, and pressing his open mouth against her breast, he muttered, “Why
not
here? No one can see us from the house, we are totally alone, and Chambers will have made certain that we are not disturbed... .” His teeth closed gently around her peaking nipple, and through the fabric of her gown, Morgana felt the heat and moistness of his mouth, the gentle bite of his teeth, and she shuddered with desire.
not
here? No one can see us from the house, we are totally alone, and Chambers will have made certain that we are not disturbed... .” His teeth closed gently around her peaking nipple, and through the fabric of her gown, Morgana felt the heat and moistness of his mouth, the gentle bite of his teeth, and she shuddered with desire.
They had not made love since the night before he had left for London, and Royce had spent most of this day in an agony of impatience, wanting emphatically to be alone with her, to kiss her demandingly and find solace in her slender body from the merciless, urgent demands of his flesh. He had come home from London nearly bursting with desire for her, but last night her brush with death had banked some of the fire of his passion, and sensing that it was comforting that she had needed most and not his urgent possession, he had made himself content with a few hungry kisses before she had eventually fallen asleep, cradled protectively next to his big body.
His voracity for her had grown all through the day, the knowledge that she was his wife intensifying the passion he felt for her, and feeling the tremor that shook her body as his teeth closed gently around her nipple, Royce finally allowed the fierce, aching passion that he had so carefully kept tightly reined all day to surge violently through his body. “I don't,” he said thickly, urgently pulling her down to lie next to him, “think that I could control myself long enough for us to reach the house!” His lips brushing tantalizingly against hers, he added mockingly, “And just think how shocked Chambers would be if he opened the front door and found me having my wicked way with you right at his very feet!”
Morgana giggled at his words, and Royce's eyes narrowed. “Ah, you find my condition amusing, do you, wench? Well, let's just see if I can arouse an answering fire in you.”
His kiss was devastatingly erotic, and blissfully Morgana gave herself up to his embrace, their location the last thing that was on her mind as the familiar tide of passion rolled over her. He kissed her deeply, his tongue plundering the warm confines of her mouth as if it had been months since they had last made love instead of mere days, and with his big body half lying on hers, she could feel the swollen hardness of him pressing conspicuously against her thigh, making her dizzyingly aware that his earlier comments had not been totally in jest.
Precisely how they came to be lying completely naked on a blanket beneath the dappled shade of an oak tree, Morgana never quite remembered. Vaguely she could recall Royce furiously removing his boots and jacket and her little, pointed-toe slippers, but when her gown and chemise disappeared, or who divested him of the remainder of his clothing, remained somewhat hazy. All she clearly remembered of that afternoon was the fierce sweetness of his lovemaking.
The patches of golden sunlight that filtered through the thick green foliage of the tree were warm where they touched her, but no warmer than the intoxicating heat of Royce's mouth as it moved from her lips to her breast, nor warmer than the sensual glide of his hand up her thigh. The wine, the warmth of the fading sunlight, were drugging, but no more drugging than the pull of Royce's mouth against her breast, no more drugging than the beat of her blood as his hands explored her pale, slender body. She was boneless beneath his skilled touch, melting in a welter of wanton sensations, her mouth aching for more of the fierce pressure of his, her nipples tight and hard, yearning for the feel of his lips and hands, and between her thighs, oh, there the lascivious, insidious demand for his touch, for his powerful possession, was the strongest....
Willfully her fingers explored the wide expanse of his muscled chest with its whorls of tight, tawny curls, and a fission of delight shivered down her spine when he groaned as she teased the stiffened nipples she found there. But her explorations did not stop at his chest; her brazen fingers continued to caress and skim across the warm, hard flesh of his steel-muscled body, the long sweep of his back, the tightly bunched mass of his buttocks, and she smiled dreamily when her seeking fingers trailed low across his stomach and she heard the harsh, swift intake of his breath. Of its own accord, her hand slid lower until it encountered the rigid magnificence of his swollen organ, and sighing pleasurably, she curled her fingers around the warm, solid width of him.
There was great pleasure to be had in stroking her husband this way, in exploring his lean, tall body, in discovering the things that gave him pleasure, but this fondling of him, this intimate examination, only increased her own passionate longings. Wordlessly she arched up against him, wanting his touch, desperately wanting him to give her succor from the hungry demands of her own flesh.
Royce did not deny her, his mouth compulsively reacquainting itself with the sweet curves and gentle slopes of her slim body, his hands gliding with increasing urgency over her flesh, inflaming her further, teasing her with the promise of the shattering pleasure only he could give her. He kissed her timelessly, his lips locked on hers, his tongue stabbing hotly into her welcoming mouth, giving them both a heady prelude of what he meant to do to her with his body. But he did not content himself with mere kisses; his hands cupped and kneaded her small, hard breasts, his thumb rubbing arousingly across her throbbing nipples, increasing the warm, aching yearning between her thighs.
Frantically she encouraged his erotic activities; the spasmodic tightening of her fingers around his bulging shaft, the helpless twisting of her body, and the soft moans of pleasure she gave drove Royce onto greater excesses, his lips tenderly ravaging her breasts, his hands trailing slowly down her trembling body, to seek the silken flesh between her legs. With his wicked mouth hungrily pulling against her breasts and the insistent probing of his fingers at the very source of all her delirious yearnings, Morgana was nearly submerged in a turbulent sea of wanton delight.
Not immune to her blatantly seductive actions, Royce shuddered time and again beneath the sensual glide of her fingers along his swollen flesh, the exquisite torment of her stinging little bites at his ear and shoulders. His breathing ragged, knowing that if he did not take her soon, he would shame himself, he fought for control, wanting to prolong this sweet agony, wanting to increase her pleasure before their joining. With a mighty effort he twisted away from her all-too-arousing ministrations, and seeing the half-full bottle of wine lying above her head, a sinfully erotic vision suddenly danced before his eyes and he reached for the bottle.
A frankly carnal smile on his mouth, he glanced into her startled face and slowly poured the cool wine down the center of her slender body. Morgana gasped in surprise as the liquid touched her flesh, but Royce was mesmerized by the sight of the pale gold liquid sliding in sensual rivulets between her pink and white breasts, across her taut little stomach, down to the tight black curls at the juncture of her slim alabaster thighs.
Almost dazedly Royce tossed the empty bottle aside and hungrily began to trace the path the wine had followed with his warm, seeking mouth. Sipping the liquor from between her breasts, his lips straying now and then to her throbbing nipples, he muttered thickly, “Ambrosia! Pure nectar for the gods!”
There was something wildly titillating about the cool moistness of the wine followed by the heat and suction of Royce's mouth, and Morgana moaned, arching against the sweetness of his exploring lips, reaching out frantically to touch him. She was desperate for his possession, and with soft, incoherent sounds, she tried to tell him of her need, even as her arms tried to pull him to her.
Royce, too, was struggling against the tide of passion that threatened to overcome them, his body aching with the need to bury itself within her, but he was too powerfully addicted to the potent flavor of the wine sipped from her warm body to stop, and compulsively his searching mouth slid lower down across her stomach, to the black ringlets of hair at the juncture of her thighs. Shifting slightly, oblivious to the faint, shocked stiffening of her body, he slipped between her thighs, his hands sliding beneath her buttocks to lift her to him, his mouth and tongue hotly exploring the soft, wine-dampened flesh he found beneath the tight curls.
A piercing spasm of pure sensual pleasure arrowed up through Morgana's body at the first thrusting flick of Royce's tongue and she twisted violently upward, to her shameful astonishment, suddenly on fire for more of the decadent things he was doing to her. Her fingers clenched into the blanket as he continued to taste and probe between her legs with his knowing tongue, the most divinely erotic sensations splintering upward and through her entire body with increasing frequency and strength until Morgana was certain there could be no greater pleasure than this most sinfully intimate ravage-ment by her husband. She thrashed like an untamed creature beneath his hungry exploration, craving a release from the sharp, coiling need that seemed centered underneath his tongue as his hands gripped her buttocks tightly, controlling the helpless undulations of her body. Suddenly her entire body went rigid and a high, keening sound of utter joy was torn from her as sweet ecstasy exploded through her, wave after wave of intense pleasure crashing over her.
The exciting feel of her convulsing flesh beneath his tongue, the intoxicating sound of her release, was very nearly more than Royce could bear, and he fought to keep from spilling himself on the ground. It was only when the powerful spasms that racked her slender body stilled that he lifted his head and, sliding upward, pulled her into his arms, his hands caressing her, gently easing her descent to earth again.
Stunned, Morgana could only lie there in his arms, amazed at what she had experienced, hardly able to believe what he had done to her or the wonderful pleasure she had derived from such a wanton act. How long they lay there together, her head cradled against his shoulder as her body slowly returned to normal, she didn't know. It could have been a mere second or an hour, but suddenly, her thoughts still erotically hazy, she became aware of the rhythmic motion of his thumb as it rubbed her nipple, and more important, a quiver of renewed desire shot through her when she noticed the astonishing size of his swollen manhood against her hip.
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