Page 378 of Historical Hotties
He cleared his throat softly, perhaps even nervously. “Does it matter?”
She shrugged vaguely. “I have saved myself for my husband,” she said. “I suppose no wife likes the thought that another woman has touched her husband before she has.”
He was silent a moment, tracing a big finger down the soft side of her neck. “If it matters, no one has touched my heart or mind in such a way,” he said. “Men have urges that women donot. It is a force of nature and not of the heart. I have never had someone mean anything to me before, certainly not the way you are coming to mean something to me. For a wife I never wanted, now I cannot imagine my life without you.”
It was a sweet thing to say, a tender moment that touched her deeply. When his great head dipped down, his lips brushing against hers, there was nothing left to say. He had eased her, made her feel comfortable and wanted, and she realized that she was ready to give herself over to him because, come what may, she had already given her mind and possibly her heart over to him. Now, it was time to give her body over to him.
Bastian’s lips slanted over Gisella’s gently at first, acquainting her with his taste and touch, before growing more bold in his attention. His kisses become more forceful, his tongue licking her lips, begging for an invitation inside. When she didn’t understand what he needed, he showed her, listening to her gasp as his tongue invaded the sweet recesses of her mouth.
As he distracted her with sweet kisses, coaxing her awakening desire, he began to carefully remove her from her shift. Between the covers being over them and his rather forceful kisses on her lips, face, and neck, Gisella hardly realized when he slipped her shift off of her shoulders and pulled it down her body. She became aware only when she felt it slide off her buttocks. But the covers were still up around her so she didn’t feel exposed, and the feel of his hot flesh against hers was both curious and exciting. She didn’t fear it. In fact, she was interested enough to put her hands on his shoulders, feeling his warm flesh for the first time.
Bastian could hardly hold himself in check. He’d never been with a more desirable woman in his life and the feel of her, the scent of her, was intoxicating. He sucked her neck and her earlobe, gently, feeling her tremble beneath him, as his handsmoved down her arms to her belly, stroking the soft flesh before moving to a full breast and gently cupping it.
Gisella gasped with surprise at someone other than herself touching her breast, but Bastian returned to her mouth, kissing her firmly as he pinched a tender nipple. It wasn’t long before Gisella settled down and enjoyed the attention as he kissed a blazing trail down her neck, onto her chest, and took a hard nipple into his mouth to suckle firmly.
Gisella gasped and squirmed with delight, utterly at the mercy of Bastian as he wedged himself between her legs, parting her thighs with his knees. At this point, all she could do was experience what he was doing to her, overwhelmed with it all, and his kisses moved from one breast to the other, tasting and touching, while his fingers moved to the warm, moist folds between her legs.
Her body was responding to him and she didn’t even realize it. All Gisella could focus on was the ecstasy he was creating within her. Her body, young and nubile, knew what it needed even if her mind did not. With his big body covering hers, Bastian brought up her knees and carefully mounted her.
The first thrust brought a sting but Gisella didn’t utter a sound. Her eyes were closed and her back arched, and Bastian thrust again, feeling her tight, wet body draw him in. It was more than he could have ever dreamed of, more beauty and lust than he could have ever comprehended, and he began to thrust into her, loosening her body up to receive him, showing her how it felt for a husband to join with a wife. No fear, no pain, only genuine desire and joy.
Beneath him, Gisella’s hands latched on to his forearms as he braced himself and he felt such arousal in those small fingers clutching him. He watched her as he made love to her, slightly elevated from her body now, and it was too much for him to take. Her perfection, her full breasts jarring every time his pelvisbumped against hers, drove him over the edge and he spilled himself deep inside her.
But he wasn’t finished and he certainly wanted her to feel what he had experienced, so he stroked her wet folds with his fingers as he continued to thrust into her, feeling her release mere seconds later. She had been so highly aroused that it hadn’t taken much at all. Her body convulsed and the sounds of her frenzied gasping filled the air as Bastian eased her down off of her first release, his mouth eventually fusing with hers, kissing her with all of the emotion he was starting to feel. And he realized, as he kissed her, that he was feeling more for her than he had originally suspected. There was something about her that was burrowing deep inside him, heading straight for his heart.
But the kisses softened and eventually faded away, and Bastian withdrew himself from her and pulled her against him, holding her close. The experience of their first coupling had gone better than he had dreamed possible, as if she was made for him and he for her, and they had accepted each other without trouble.
As he lay there, staring at the fire over the top of her dark head, a rather loud and rattling snore filled the room. Since it wasn’t him, he could only assume it was his delicate new wife, and he broke out in soft laughter, giggling harder when she snorted in her sleep. It was laughter of pure joy, for he was coming to feel quite inferior around her, thinking she was a perfect angel. The snoring, at least, made her more human.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t get much sleep that night, but he hardly cared. As far as he was concerned, he had found paradise.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Ithought thiswasn’t a military fortress,” Sparrow said, peering through the window of Braidwood’s reception room and out into the courtyard beyond. “There are hundreds of soldiers out there.”
Pale with angst, Gisella stood beside her friend, watching her husband and his knights organize a large collection of new troops that had arrived over the past hour. It was nearing the nooning hour but troops arriving in the courtyard had been going on since before dawn. There were knights in armor, too, several of them, and Gisella watched with mounting distress as an army was assembled before her eyes.
“This is my fault,” she hissed quietly. “Had I not struck Thomas, none of this would be happening. Men are going to die because of what I did.”
Sparrow knew the entire story, mostly through Gisella’s rather disjointed tale that morning when they converged on the kitchen for the morning meal. By that time, all of the knights save Braxton had been out in the courtyard, so breakfast was a small meal shared by Gisella, Braxton, Sparrow, the king’s physician, and the king.
Henry, in fact, didn’t seem too upset given what was going on around him. He had expected to be taken back to the Tower this morning but that trip seemed to have been delayed. More to the point, he seemed rather happy about it and ate nearly everything that was put before him– eggs with cream and cheese, several hunks of warm bread and butter, and strips of pork that had been fried crispy. He stuck close to Braxton and seemed quite at ease with the man, and even managed to start a conversation with Gisella about his desire for a lovely prayer book. She responded politely, speaking of a beautiful Italian prayer book that Lady Gloucester had, something that interested Henry greatly. But throughout the conversation, Gisella’s thoughts and mind were with her husband in the courtyard. She simply couldn’t shake the sense of dread.
They moved out to the big reception room after the morning meal was finished and Sparrow sat with Henry, teaching him how to play a game called Bone Ace from a deck of beautifully painted cards that had once belonged to Aderyn de Russe. It was a numbers game and Henry was good with numbers, so he quickly ended up beating Sparrow several hands whereupon she turned the game over to Braxton, who played gleefully against the boy who was trying very hard to beat him. This left the old physician hovering behind his young charge, watching the game, as Gisella and Sparrow watched the courtyard, worrying over what was to come.
“It is not your fault,” Sparrow said, sympathetic. “I would have done the same thing. What a nasty man to say such terrible things about your husband.”
Gisella could see her brother speaking with Bastian and another knight she recognized. Sir Andrew Wellesbourne was in their midst, having come with the other troops that morning. He was dressed for battle, and Gisella was nearly sick with what wastranspiring. Her husband was obviously building an army in that small, manicured courtyard.
“I am going outside,” Gisella said when she could stand it no longer. “I must speak with Bastian.”
Sparrow held on to her, refusing to let her go. “You must not,” she said. “Nothing you can say to him will change his mind, will it?”
Gisella’s featured twisted into a pout. “I must try,” she insisted. “I cannot let men die because I slapped a ridiculous young lord. It is not worth men’s lives.”
Sparrow didn’t let go of her but she could see how upset her friend was. She wasn’t particularly surprised. Gisella and Bastian had spent a good deal of time together as of late and Sparrow could only go on the assumption that something good was blossoming between them. Certainly, Gisella wouldn’t be so distressed if she didn’t feel something for the man she married which was surprising given their rocky start. Still, it was wholly wonderful because Gisella deserved such happiness. She stopped gripping Gisella’s arm and looped her hand through her friend’s elbow.
“Walk with me,” she said softly.
