Page 65 of Unwanted Vows

As he undid my last shirt button, he peeled my blouse down over my shoulders, trapping my arms.

“Arrrgh,” he mockingly growls. “D’ye think that’s funny? Yer a disrespectful wench, you are!” With that, he scoops me up, still trapped in my blouse, and gently tosses me onto the bed.

I bounce a little, but the springs don’t squeak, showing that someone had paid attention to the small details of security — as in not sharing personal activities with the neighbors.

“M’lord,” I squeaked, getting into my role, “Methinks thou art a trifle overdressed for the occasion.”

“Oh ho,” he returned, in the same playful way, “Uppity, too, I see. Were you the kind of naughty child to unwrap your gifts on the sly? Be a good wench and lie still while I unwrap my present, then you can have your turn.”

With that, he deftly undid my jeans and slid them off me, leaving me clad only in bra and panties.

“Oh, and a sweet little package you are, too,” he adds, pausing in his labors to admire me. I shiver with anticipation. “Cold are ye? I’ll warm you up . . .”

I swallow hard. With my arms trapped, I feel . . . not afraid exactly, but powerless. My shivers increase in strength, and something must have shown on my face.

Andrew stops. He doesn’t let go of my blouse, but he doesn’t continue, either.

“Maddy,” he says, “I’m not a dread pirate. Do you want to fuck? Because I won’t force you.”

“I want to make love with you, my Wesley,” I say. “I suspect that fucking might be involved.”

He just looked at me for a moment. I can see he is trying to keep a straight face. Then he chuckles, “Oh, Maddy, you are a puzzle wrapped in an enigma. But I think I love you.”

“Am I your wild thing?” I ask. I don’t strain against my blouse. It is one of my favorites and I don’t want to tear it, but every part of me wants to throw caution to the winds, wrap my arms around his neck; no, I want to wrap myself around him, and become one with him.

“Yes,” he says, “and I have no desire to tame you.” He slides my blouse off my shoulders.

“What do you want?” I ask.

Andrew is gently sliding my panties down my hips. “I want to unwrap you slowly, like the best birthday or holiday gift. I want to cherish and savor every part of you.”

He runs his hands down my sides. I reach up to put my arms around his neck, but he catches my hands. “Slowly,” he says. “Slowly, slowly. We have time now.”

He slides one hand behind me, undoing my bra, letting it fall free. “You are so beautiful,” he says. “I could worship at your shrine forever, Blodeuwedd, Buttercup, Helena, Guinevere . . .”

I pull myself up, and gently kiss him on the mouth. “Shhh,” I say. “All those ladies put their lords through unspeakable trials. I just want to be me, making love to you. Right now, tonight, we don’t have to be anyone except Andrew and Maddy.”

I don’t mention that at least two of them practiced infidelity, and that the best of them was a bossy little thing scarcely worthy of her knight.

“Then that’s who we will be,” he says.

Then he begins planting nibble kisses down my front, stopping just short of the part of me that aches for him. “I dreamed of you, drew pictures, and . . . and thought of you in the late evenings after shifts.”

“Am I like your dreams?” I ask.

“No,” he says, “you are much, much better.”

He releases my hands, and slides his palms down my sides. I lift my hips, offering myself to him.

Andrew stops then, arms braced on either side of me, one knee on the edge of the bed, and just looks. The silence stretches out, and he just looks.

Finally, I say, “Like what you see?”

“Yes!” he says emphatically. He then continues with the nibble kisses, traveling down the slight swell of my stomach, ending just above the aching core of me. He blows out a warm breath over the curls protecting the heat at my center and then brings gentle fingers up to touch me. I gasp and arch into his touch desperately, pleasure zinging and tingling through my nerve endings from just this one simple brush of his hand.

He kneels at the edge of the bed, and drags me to him, my legs on either side of his head. Gravely, he smooths back the hair, and then he tastes me.

I only thought I was alive before! Every nerve in my body is awake with anticipation. I try to arch my hips to him, and I let my legs spread wide. I hear myself making little whimpering sounds, my breath caught in my throat as pleasure has its way with me.

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