He moved slightly to fit his fingertips on her hard nub and started the slow circling movements he knew she craved.
Quickly, the pain recessed and pleasure returned. Pleasure and a strange new pressure. A fire was building deep within her, threatening to overwhelm her.
He was moving over her, slowly pushing in and pulling out—an even staccato that was raising the heat and pressure. When the two collided, the climax burst through her body, shaking her to her core.
Her body sang with new music it had never felt before and with Knightley’s last thrust, she knew he had felt the same.
For a long time, they lay on the bench entwined in each other’s embrace. At some point, the gondolier had begun singing an Italian ballad of long-lost lovers reunited forever.
Knightley shifted and she moved with him. When his warm hand cupped her face, she opened her eyes to find him watching her earnestly.
“I have a confession to make, too,” he said. His eyes were the color of warm chocolate. “I’ve denied it again and again. It was too impractical. You were too young. I was a monster.
“But the truth is…there could be no one else for me. It has always been…and will always be…you.” He caressed her face as he tried to express the words in his heart. “Emma, dearest Emma, call me a fool if you will…I love you.”
The hope in his eyes reflected the sentiment deep within her soul. Her heart fluttered with pure joy.
“I can assure you, you are no fool. I have known all along.” Her hands smoothed away any lingering lines of worry.
“Knightley…George, I love you.”
They kissed, just lips meeting lips and hands touching faces until the rest of their bodies jealously demanded equal attention.
Devlin stroked a stray hair from his wife’s sweet, smiling face. During the storytelling, she had nestled up to him in a perfect spoon.
“I achieved the desired results?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes, you have.” Her closed eyes crinkled at the edges, wetness leaking at their corners. His story had touched her soft heart.
Without warning, she rolled away, throwing back the quilts and bouncing barefoot to the cold floor. He leaned back, watching her curiously.
“I have quibbles,” she stated, unbuttoning the top of her red pajamas.
“But, of course,” he replied, quoting:
‘No, as then, ’tis simple truth
Sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth!’
“I saved the last stanza for just this purpose. Let’s hear them.”
“You take an awful amount of dramatic license running roughshod right over irrefutable facts.”
Her pajamas unfastened, she wriggled out of the top, exposing her bare breasts.
“What is history if one cannot retell it to suit his own purposes?” His voice, however, sounded less cavalier than his words. He was staring drymouthed at Maeve’s hardened nipples.
“You broke the Charlie’s Angels rule.”
She dropped her pajama pants, revealing lacy black panties.
“I am but a man. I have no other defense.” His gaze moved to her covered triangle.
“And you mock my much-esteemed Jane Austen.”
Folding her arms under her breasts, she tried but didn’t quite succeed in giving him a hard look. Really, all she managed was to accentuate her pointed tips.
“I hold your precious Jane Austen in the highest esteem, simply because you adore her.”
He opened his arms and she crawled into them.
“You did get Knightley’s first name correct. You must have read Emma closely, just for me.”
His hand lowered over her bottom.
“Let’s see what other facts I did get right.”
Discover more of Maeve and Devlin’s naughty tales in other Spice Briefs on sale now:
THE QUEEN’S TALE
THE PIRATE’S TALE
THE TALE OF THE DANCING GIRL
Hungry for more? Spice Briefs to suit every taste are available now at www.spicebriefs.com.
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ISBN: 978-1-4268-5068-4
Knightley’s Tale
Copyright © 2010 by Jennifer Clark
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