His head was spinning. The white-heather scent surrounding her filled his senses. He remembered their first encounter. It had been fierce and rough with the need he felt to conquer her. But he hadn’t conquered her at all. He had awakened her passions, as she had awakened his. They had feasted together that day on their mutual lust. But he would not lose his control in this hour before the dawn broke. He would be gentle, because he wanted to put Ian from her mind, and he knew that each touch, each kiss he gave to Cicely caused her to compare him with his cousin. But she was his now!
He worked his way down her torso, kissing, licking, nuzzling. He could feel her trembling ever so slightly beneath his lips. Her thick auburn bush was before him. He cupped her with a hand, pressing down upon her mons, and Cicely shuddered. Kier smiled wolfishly, and then, removing his hand, he buried his face in those tight curls, inhaling the female scent of her. Raising his dark head, he gently pushed her thighs apart. He stared down, debating what he would do next; then, deciding, he licked the soft inside of one thigh and then the other with slow, leisurely strokes of his tongue.
Cicely purred. This was something Ian had never done. The tongue continued to move across first one thigh, then the other, and then it was pushing between her folds. “Oh!” She gasped as the pointed tip of his tongue found her love button. Her eyes widened as he shifted his position so that his dark head now lay between her milky white thighs. The skillful tongue taunted her until Cicely was whimpering with her need, which seemed to grow and grow with every touch, every stroke of his tongue. She dug her fingers into his thick, dark hair, kneading his head.
And then he stopped, leaning back to press a finger into her sheath. The finger moved back and forth slowly, slowly, teasing her. Cicely bit her lip until it bled, but then, unable to contain herself, she whispered one word: “More!” He said nothing, instead withdrawing the single finger and pressing into her again with two fingers, which again moved slowly, slowly, finally gaining speed. She rode his fingers eagerly, and then cried out as she released her juices to him.
Withdrawing the two fingers, he cuddled her in his arms, one hand caressing her head. She squirmed within his embrace, but not to escape him. He had stoked her lust, and now she was more than ready to take him into her body. “More?” he whispered into her ear, and his tongue licked the whorl of it.
“Aye!” she said. “More!”
He pulled her to the edge of the bed so that her legs fell over the side. Rolling her onto her belly, he elevated her bottom with a pillow beneath her. Then, standing behind her, Kier levered her legs apart, grasped her hips, and thrust himself deep into her.
Cicely gasped. Blessed Mother!
Her gasp told him what he wanted to know. There would be no comparisons made within her mind between himself and his deceased cousin. A sojourn in France and Italy had taught Kier Douglas much. He began to pump himself within her now, slowly at first, then with increasing rapidity, and when he felt her near to peaking he slowed his pace. His fingers should have drawn the edge off of her lust, and he was of a mind to take his time.
Cicely’s head was spinning. Blessed Mother! He was so big, and yet she easily absorbed him. And never had she been probed so deeply. The tip of his cock touched an extraordinarily sensitive spot within her, and she felt her juices flowing again. Her sheath clasped and unclasped him, sending ripples of sensation throughout her body. He groaned, and his teeth sank into the sensitive nape of her neck briefly. Her back seemed to be arching instinctively, allowing him even deeper access.
Kier was having a difficult time controlling himself. She was an unknowing seductress, a witch! Her sheath wrapped itself around his cock, embracing it, clasping it tightly, as if to force his juices from him. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips as he attempted to control their situation. He forced himself deeper, and she retaliated, the muscles of her sweet, hot maw enfolding his manhood, exhorting his boiling juices to come forth. He was lost! His seed ejected in a fiery explosion of pleasure.
And it swept over them both. Cicely could feel the staccato bursts of his lust filling her. She cried out his name. “Kier! Oh, Kier!” She had been well and thoroughly fucked in a manner she had never imagined.
He somehow managed to keep from collapsing on her. His legs weak, he flung himself down upon the bed and, turning his head, looked over at her. Cicely lay as he had put her, head turned to one side, eyes closed. Kier heaved a gusty sigh.
Cicely opened her blue-green eyes to meet his gaze. Then, to his great surprise, she smiled at him. “That was wonderful,” she said, dumbfounding him further. “Did you enjoy it as well? I hope you did, my lord.”
“Aye,” was about all he could manage to say as he lay breathing heavily next to her. He couldn’t think of what he might respond to her astonishing frankness.
She still lay on her belly, and she sighed gustily as she finally rolled over onto her back. “My experience is not great, but I think even a woman with a great familiarity with passion would consider you expert, my lord.” Then she sat up briefly before rising to her feet. “I see the sun is rising. I must hurry and get down to the hall, and so must you. The king will expect to hunt again today.” She walked across the floor and, fetching the pitcher of water from the hot coals of the fire, she poured some into her basin and began to wash herself quickly.
For a long few minutes he lay watching her. She seemed to evince no shyness this morning at her nakedness, although the chamber was growing light with beams of bright sun starting to push through the cracks in the wood shutters. Finally satisfied with her ablutions, she moved back to the bed and picked up her chemise from the floor, drawing it over her head, lacing it neatly. Then, flinging open the window’s shutters, she tossed the contents of her basin out the window before refilling it with warm water. “Come, my lord, you must not lay abed,” she said, and then she continued dressing herself, opening the trunk at the foot of the bed to pull out a bright yellow houpeland, which she quickly donned. “Kier, get up!” she scolded.
“I think we would be forgiven if we did not go into the hall this morning,” he said.
Cicely laughed, pleased. “Then I have pleased you too, my lord. I am glad. Hurry now, and get dressed.” Then Cicely hurried from her bedchamber.
Kier Douglas continued to lie abed, contemplating what had just happened. His bride being a widow, he had taken her roughly for his own pleasure. There was no maidenhead to have a care of, and he had fucked her once previously. Still, she had praised him. Was Cicely mocking him? Or had she really enjoyed the lustful play between them? He was totally bemused by her. What game did the bitch play with him? At least she hadn’t compared him again to his cousin Ian. That was some improvement, for the mere mention of the previous laird’s name seemed to anger him.
God’s balls! Was he jealous? Jesu! Why would he be jealous of a dead man? Unless, of course, he was falling in love with Cicely. Never! A man in love was a weakling, and he would not allow her to weaken him, for a border lord needed his strength to keep his clanfolk, his lands safe. Ian had not been able to do either, because his love for Cicely took precedence over everything else in his life. “I will not make that mistake!” Kier Douglas swore aloud to himself as he finally arose from her bed.
Having reached the hall, Cicely was directing her servants. “Tam, make certain Mab serves a generous breakfast. The laird and the king will hunt today.” She had looked through one of the windows in the hall and saw that the day was fair.
“I’ll tell her, my lady,” Tam said, and ran off to the kitchens.
Cicely went and sat before her loom while she waited for her guests and her husband to join her. She looked at the piece she had woven so far. Its subject was Glengorm. She had finished the house on the hillside, the path leading to the village below, and some of the village cottages. She would complete it by spring. It would be hung behind the high board. And then she would begin a companion piece for it. The subject would show an antlered stag on a hillside above the loc
h, several does by the water drinking. She imagined herself with child as she wove the next tapestry. Aye, she would give Johanna a brother, for even if Kier didn’t like her, he liked fucking her.
The king and queen came into the hall from the new chamber behind it.
“You are up, madam,” the king said, seeming surprised.
“I would be a poor example if I did not care for my guests,” Cicely said.
“Good morrow, my liege,” Kier said as he entered the chamber. “ ’Tis a good day for grouse, I think. Will you join us, madam?” he asked his bride.
“I think I shall remain with Her Highness,” Cicely said. “We still have much catching up to do, my lord. And I shall see a fine meal awaits your return.”
“I have no doubt of that,” Kier replied somewhat dryly.
Mab had indeed supplied the high board with a very generous breakfast. And afterwards the king and the laird departed to hunt grouse.
They had no sooner left the hall than the queen dragged Cicely to the chairs by the fire. “What happened?” she asked her friend. “Tell me all! Leave nothing out!” She sat down, putting her feet upon a stool. “Is he a good lover?”
“You know my knowledge is not great,” Cicely said, “but I believe him to be a magnificent lover,” she told her friend.
The queen’s blue eyes widened. “What did he do?” she demanded to know.
“I think the question would be, What didn’t he do?” Cicely said, smiling.
“Blessed Mother!” Joan Beaufort responded, and she leaned forward in spite of her big belly. “Tell me, Ce-ce!”
Cicely giggled, and then she began to speak in hushed tones so no one else might hear her recitation. She left no detail of their late wedding night out, and the queen was fascinated by it all.
“Has he been in your ass yet?” she asked her friend.
“Nay,” Cicely said. “Is such a thing possible?”
“Aye. I’m not particularly fond of it, but sometimes Jamie wants to do it, and so I allow it,” the queen explained. “Your husband, if he is as adventurous as he seems, will want that pleasure eventually.”
“I hope not,” Cicely said, looking dubious.
“How long did he fuck you?” the queen inquired.
“Forever, it seemed. I thought he would go on until Twelfth Night. He seems to have reasonable stamina, Jo. And he went so deep.”
“He’s long then.”
“Aye, and big too,” Cicely responded.
“There is nothing like a stiff, manly cock,” the queen agreed.
“I complimented him,” Cicely said.
Joan Beaufort giggled. “Blessed Mother! I’m sure you quite startled him.”
“Are you not supposed to tell a man when he pleases you?” Cicely wanted to know. “Ian always seemed so happy when I told him.”
“It cannot hurt a man to know he is appreciated,” the queen replied. “But I am certain it does embarrass him, for men are like that. Do what pleases you, Ce-ce.”
“Indeed I shall, Jo. Since he doesn’t like me, it doesn’t really matter,” Cicely answered the queen. “I’ll be a good chatelaine and a good wife to him. I will bear his children and give him the respect he is due. He’ll have no complaints in me.”
“Doesn’t like you? Oh, no, Ce-ce, you are quite mistaken,” Joan Beaufort told her friend. “Kier likes you very much, I suspect. But like most men he thinks he must be strong, and being strong means showing no weakness. Men think love a weakness.”
“Then why does he tell me he doesn’t like me?” Cicely wanted to know. “I don’t understand such a thing. Ian always said he loved me. He showed no hesitation in doing so, Jo. But Kier is most blunt in his dislike of me.”
“Have you said you don’t like him?” the queen asked.
“Of course I have. I do not want him to think me so weak and simpering a little fool that I cannot manage without being assured of his love. I don’t need his love to do my duty to Glengorm,” Cicely said stubbornly.
“In other words, he hurt your feelings when he said he didn’t like you, so you retaliated by telling him you didn’t like him,” Joan Beaufort replied.
“Aye,” Cicely agreed, and then she laughed. “I was a little fool, wasn’t I, Jo?”
“But you do like him, don’t you?” the queen pressed her friend.
“Aye, I do,” Cicely admitted. “He is very different from Ian.”
“Blessed Mother, leave your former husband, God assoil him, in the grave, Ce-ce! No man wants to hear the virtues of his predecessor,” the queen advised her friend.
“But they are similar, at least where Glengorm is concerned,” Cicely said.
“And in bed?” the queen queried softly.
“Different,” Cicely admitted. “Ian took a special care of me. Kier is almost demanding. I’m not quite certain what he desires, Jo.”
Joan Beaufort laughed softly. “I think he probably wants you to love him,” she said. “Jamie learned from Sir William that when Kier was a very young man he fell in love. But the girl’s father didn’t consider him worthy of her. I believe it hurt him, and I think he was ashamed because of the circumstances of his birth. He never again professed tender thoughts for any female. But I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you, Ce-ce. He wants more than a respectful and dutiful wife. Can you give that to him?”
Cicely sighed. “I loved Ian, but never in the way he loved me. And after his death I felt so guilty about it. Ian offered me everything he had to give. His heart. His name. His child. And while I cared for him, my passion was not great. Now I am brought to the altar again with another man. He is fierce, and he is passionate. He excites me. I believe I could fall in love with him, Jo. But he scorns me. How can I offer my heart to such a man as that?”
“Then you have come to an impasse, Ce-ce. Ian was a special man, but most men are more like Kier. And all men are babies. They will dash into battle without fear of death, but they are terrified to tell a woman that they love her. And heaven forfend that a woman hurts their feelings. Then it becomes impossible for them to speak up. Unless, of course, the woman speaks up first,” Joan Beaufort said. “If you come to love Kier one day then you must tell him so, Ce-ce. Only then will he admit what is in his heart for you. And believe me, it isn’t dislike.”
Cicely sighed. “We are of an age, Jo. How did you become so wise? James Stewart loved you from the moment he laid eyes on you. And you had no trouble loving him back. My father always claimed to love my mother, and those who knew them attested to the fact that he did indeed love her. Ian loved me, offered me that same love, but I demurred until it was really too late. Why, I wonder, did I do such a thing?”
“When your father sent you to our foster mother, perhaps you felt he was rejecting your love,” the queen suggested.
“Nay!” Cicely denied. “I understood why it was necessary for him to do it. He was saving my life, Jo. My stepmother, Luciana, truly hated me.”
“Your stepmother made him choose between you, Ce-ce. And your father chose her,” Joan Beaufort said. “Your practical nature excused the Earl of Leighton’s choice because you loved your father, and would not think badly of him. But at that moment your perceptions of love changed. How could they not? Love between a man and a woman, however, is a totally different thing. To love you must trust. Both you and Kier have lost faith in love because neither of you can trust in it. That, I suspect, is why you found it so difficult to love Ian, to accept his love. Mayhap you feared to lose Ian’s love one day. But now either you or Kier must take the first step if you are to discover the joys of love again. And you will also learn when you can love once more that passion with love is far more wonderful than just passion.”
Cicely looked at the queen curiously. “I don’t know how it could be,” she said.
“What did you do after you shared your passions?” the queen asked.
“I complimented him on his skill; then I got up, washed myself, dressed, and came down to the hall to see to
my guests,” Cicely replied.
The queen laughed. “Oh, dear,” she said.
“Jo, it was dawn! I would not be a good chatelaine had I not come down to see to my guests,” Cicely defended herself.
“Was Kier of the same mind?” the queen inquired.
“Nay, he was not,” Cicely told her friend. “He wanted us to stay abed. He said no one would think the worse of us for it, since we were just wed yesterday.”
“Aha!” Joan Beaufort said. “There is certain proof that he is falling in love with you, Ce-ce. If you would but encourage him just the tiniest bit, you could be as happy and my Jamie and I are.”
“You want me to be the first to say ‘I love you’?” Cicely said. “But I don’t love him, Jo. And the only care he has for me is as the mother of his sons.”
“He’s falling in love with you,” the queen insisted. “I know a man in love. Stop being so damned dutiful, Ce-ce, and let yourself fall in love with him. And when you do, tell him, and put the poor man out of his misery. Ian Douglas loved you, to be sure, but this Douglas will love you as well if you will just allow him to, dearest. Did our foster mother not love her King Henry? And he was her second husband. She wanted him, and she made no secret of it. That is the example you need to follow. Now, promise me that you will at least try, Ce-ce.”
Cicely laughed. “I promise,” she said. Reaching out, she took the queen’s hand and kissed it. “I am so glad we remain friends,” she told Joan Beaufort. “Are you making friends among the Scots ladies at your court?”
“Some are pleasant, but the truth is, I find they serve me best by what they have overheard. Some come to me, but with the others I just listen. I prefer to make my friends among the men. They are the allies the king and I might need one day. James is very outspoken, and offends without meaning to do so. Sometimes I can soften what he says, and soothe the ruffled feathers of his nobles.”
The Border Lord and the Lady Page 38