by Speer, Flora
Thomas understood. He gathered her into his arms and lifted her off the bed. Holding her up with one arm, he pulled down the coverlet and the linen top sheet.
“Cristin!” He began to laugh. Arianna had been gazing at his beloved face. Now she looked down to see the source of his sudden mirth.
Pink and white rose petals and branches of lavender had been scattered across the lower sheet.
“When I said I’d like a few flowers in our room,” Thomas informed her, still laughing, “I didn’t mean in our bed, too. Cristin always was overenthusiastic.”
“I think it’s lovely,” Arianna murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. “They smell wonderful.”
“But this might scratch you.” Thomas pulled out a long piece of lavender, then found another. “We should remove all the lavender before we get into bed.”
“I think you are right.” Arianna was out of his embrace, reaching across the bed, picking up the stiff branches. “Cristin did this with love, Thomas.”
“I know. You needn’t worry; I’ve no plans to scold her.”
By the time they had gathered all the lavender, the coverlet and top sheet had been pushed down to the foot of the bed to reveal the full extent of soft pink rose petals which drifted all across the bed. Thomas took the lavender branches from Arianna’s hands and scattered them onto the floor. He let his robe drop to the floor, too, before he turned to face her.
He was so beautiful. He was all she had ever dreamed of or wanted. His tall, firm-muscled body was perfect to her eyes. His golden hair shone in the candlelight, his blue gaze held her a happy prisoner.
He picked her up again, holding her close for a moment before he laid her down upon the new linen sheets and the fragrant petals. He stretched out beside her in the perfumed atmosphere of their marriage bed. And then, at last, he kissed her. His mouth caressed hers gently at first, until Arianna herself deepened the kiss by opening her lips. His tongue plunged into her with a sudden fiery burst of passion. She welcomed him, giving back her own awakening desire.
His hands were on her body. Thomas had never touched her like this before, not in their brief stolen embraces while he still belonged to another, nor later, when he might have done as he wanted because she was promised to him. He had carefully kept his distance during their two months’ betrothal, and now she knew why. It was because if he had touched her, if he had put his hands on her breasts as he was doing now, or kissed her throat while her head was thrown back across his arm, or stroked along her back, or caressed her legs in just this way, she would have done what she was doing now. She would have let her legs fall open and moaned while he kissed her knees and thighs. She would have begun to touch him, too, with her hands running through the crisp hair on his wide chest and across his shoulders and then down his back when he leaned over her to kiss her hungry mouth once more.
If he had touched her before this night they would have made love at once. They would not have been able to stop themselves, and then this precious, sacred night could not have happened. But Thomas had known, and had kept himself from her until the time was right for them to come together.
He kissed every inch of her delicately trembling body. He told her over and over again how deeply he loved her. And she responded with all the tenderness and passion she had hidden for so many years.
“I love you,” he whispered, nibbling at her fingers again, then slowly working his way across her palm to her wrist and up her arm to her shoulder. She was close to fainting from the exquisite tension he had generated when he stopped – to begin again, on her other arm this time.
“You are my very heart.” She could just barely hear his words, for his face was buried between her breasts, and his hands – ah, his hands! And his mouth! She did cry out then, and reached for him, but he moved away.
“My darling.” His mouth was on her cheek, his voice a broken, husky whisper in her ear. “Please stop what you’re doing. Take your hands away. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you continue I’ll lose all control. Arianna, you must stop.”
She realized then that all the time he had been touching her, she had been caressing him in return, though she had not been fully aware of what she was doing, and she knew with a deep, feminine instinct that he was poised on the very edge of a wild, loving madness. She knew it because she felt close to madness herself. But she had to reassure him, had to let him know he could do anything and she would accept him with all the love she felt for him.
“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she whispered, pulling him nearer. “Thomas.” His name on her tongue was a sigh of deep longing, a last faint echo of the time when he had not been hers to love.
He heard that echo and knew it in his own heart. He pulled her closer still, pressing himself against her. She yielded, opening to him with a happiness that filled her soul and heart.
Arianna gave a soft, choked gasp. Thomas breathed a deep, long sigh, and they were one. As her instant of slight distress passed, Arianna looked into her husband’s eyes and knew they would never be separate again. She knew now what consummation meant. It was this fulfillment, this joyful union with her beloved Thomas, and it was worth everything they’d both had to endure in order to reach this moment. And she knew something more: it would never end. Indeed, it would grow deeper and richer with every day, with every year that passed. The singing fire in her veins, the closeness of his warm body, and the spiraling delight she now experienced were all because of Thomas. She cried out his name in a breathy whisper and gave herself up to love.
She wakened far into the night, when the setting full moon was sending streaks of silver light across the bedroom floor. The sheet had been pulled up to her shoulders to ward off any chill. Arianna turned over, opening her eyes. She saw Thomas standing by the windows, pulling back the woolen curtains and opening the shutters. It was the sudden light that had wakened her. She slid out of bed and went to him, treading along a path of moonlight and lavender. His arms enfolded her, and they stood watching the moon and listening to the sounds of woods and stream and the soft footfalls of the guards patrolling the castle walls.
There was no need for words. They had loved each other well and fully opened their hearts to each other, and Arianna knew it would always be so. They stayed together in contented peace, Thomas’s arms around her, keeping her warm and safe within the circle of their strength.
“Guy will send us to Kelsey next week,” Thomas said after a long, quiet moment.
“Away from Afoncaer?” Arianna drew back a little, the better to see his face in the moonlight. He was laughing down at her.
“It’s only for a short time,” he said. “The seneschal at Kelsey is old and needs to be replaced. I’m to see to his retirement and the choosing of a new man, while you are to supervise improvements in the domestic arrangements. I think Guy believed we would enjoy a few weeks away from family and close friends, time to ourselves before we take up our usual duties again. We must be back at Afoncaer before King Henry comes to Wales in late summer.”
“King Henry,” Arianna murmured. “I remember the morning when he knighted you. I thought then that you were the most handsome man I had ever seen. I know now that you are without a doubt the finest knight he ever made. You are all that a knight should be, Thomas.”
“Once I wanted to be a perfect knight. I dreamed of it all through my boyhood,” Thomas said. He laughed again, ruefully. “I am not perfect, as you will learn, my dear wife, after you have lived with me a bit.”
“We shall have sons,” Arianna told him, “boys like you. And one or two daughters, like Cristin. Meredith has told me about you when you were little.”
“Lies, every word of it,” he teased. Then, “Daughters, with your spirit and gentleness, and your enduring love. We’ll make Afoncaer a happy place, Arianna, not just for the Normans, but for the Welsh on our lands, too. For years I’ve wanted a wife I could love as
Guy loves Meredith, and now at last I have one.” He kissed her, a long, deep, tender
kiss that turned into something more than tenderness.
“You smell of roses,” he said when he caught his breath again.
“So do you, my gentle knight,” Arianna murmured as he picked her up and carried her back to their bed.
Those who went about their business in the great hall of Afoncaer that morning noted with knowing, understanding smiles that Thomas and his beloved lady did not leave their chamber until the day was nearly done.
About The Author:
Flora Speer is the author of twenty-two full-length novels and two novellas.
She writes historical, futuristic and time-travel romances. Born in southern New Jersey, she now lives in Connecticut. Among her favorite activities are doing research for the next book, gardening (especially herbs and flowers used in medieval gardens) and amateur astronomy. She believes in space travel, and wishes the U.S. would restart its space program.
Flora can be reached at [email protected] and at www.floraspeer.com/
Other Books By This Author (all on Smashwords)
Historical:
By Honor Bound
Much Ado About Love
The Viking Passion
For Love And Honor
Rose Red
Castle Of Dreams
Castle of the Heart
Two Turtledoves (Christmas novella)
Time-Travel:
Twelfth Night (a Christmas novella)
Christmas Carol
A Time to Love Again
A Love Beyond Time
Timestruck
Love Just in Time
Love Once and Forever*
Paranormal – Medieval Magic
Heart’s Magic
The Magician’s Lover
A Passionate Magic
Love Once and Forever*
Futuristic
Venus Rising
Destiny’s Lovers
No Other Love
Lady Lure