by Sandra Hill
"Garment? What garment?" She scanned the room and saw nothing except the beekeeping veil hanging on a peg. When understanding dawned on her, she choked out, "You cannot mean—"
"Yea, I can." He took the veil in one hand and a pair of shears in the other, deftly cutting a rough neckline in the fabric. He handed it to her. "Either you put it on, or I will."
Eadyth watched her husband as he turned away from her. Her eyes darted about the room, searching for an escape. Or a weapon. There was neither.
Reluctantly, she donned the wispy gown, which was worse than no garment at all. It covered her from neck to ankle and wrist, but its sheerness made her feel more naked than bare skin.
Eirik proceeded to light at least three dozen of her costly beeswax candles. Her lips curling ferally, Eadyth made a mental account of the number he wasted and decided to bill him for them in a few days. Hah! He probably considered them his property now. Just like me. She bit her bottom lip to stop the tears from welling in her eyes at that horrid thought.
Laying the tinder on a table, Eirik turned, and his mouth dropped open. He gaped at her in open appreciation as his eyes traveled from the top to the bottom of the revealing garment.
To Eadyth's satisfaction, Eirik did not look so cool and angry now. A wistful smile tugged at his lips. "I have been dreaming of you in that garment for a long time, afore I even knew of your beauty."
"Keep on dreaming, lackbrain, because 'tis all you will do."
"Do you think so?" he challenged, moving closer.
"I do not want you, Eirik."
"You wanted me earlier today... with a passion," he reminded her.
To her chagrin, Eadyth felt a blush heat her face. "I was besotted with lust then. Now that I know your true intent, it will not happen again."
"I say it will."
"So rape and imprisonment are to be my punishment."
"I have never forced a woman in my life and have no intention of starting now," he snarled, clenching his fists at his sides. "But, God's Bones, you tempt a man to violence with your shrewish tongue."
"You did not mind my shrewish tongue earlier today."
Eirik shook his head in amazement at her quick words. "Ah, but then your tongue was engaged in more pleasant duties. In truth, I had planned on teaching you a novel exercise for your tongue this eve." And he proceeded to tell her a most scandalous thing that men and women could do to each other with their tongues.
"Oh... oh... you really are a wicked man. When did you last attend confession? Surely, the priests must wring their hands with glee when you arrive in the confessional. No doubt, you are weighed down for weeks afterward with heavy penances."
"Always," he replied, unabashed.
Eadyth stared at him, speechless, trying hard not to imagine the scandalous sins he might have to confess.
Eirik raked his hands through his hair, seeming to search for the proper words. Finally, he stared at her levelly. "Eadyth, I would like to make love with you. Very much. Will you let me?" he asked in a low, raspy voice.
"Nay." Dear Blessed Mother, keep me from being tempted. Dear Blessed Mother, keep me from being tempted. Dear Blessed...
"Please."
Eadyth bit her lower lip and dug her nails into the palms of her fisted hands, trying desperately not to remember the way this wicked man had made her feel earlier that day.
Eirik stepped a little closer, and she almost moaned aloud at the sweet need she saw in his parted lips. His pale blue eyes swept her almost nude body like a delicious, sensuous caress. And every spot they touched turned warm and yearning. Eadyth felt herself weakening and tried even harder to resist his charms.
"Not even if you stand on your head, totally naked, and wag that tail that stands to attention betwixt your legs," she asserted brazenly, hoping to shock him away with her crudity.
Instead, he laughed appreciatively. "You will never let me forget that tale I told of the caliph and his mud ugly wife, will you?"
"That was not the caliph story, you dimwit. That was the merchant from Micklegaard, and his wife looked like the back end of a mule," she corrected him.
Eirik raised both brows. "The brilliance of your memory stuns me."
"I would like to stun you, all right. You and all the ridiculous stories you told me. Twelve times! You must have been laughing yourself into Kingdom Come at my gullibility."
"Twelve what?" he asked, puzzled, and moved a little closer.
Eadyth sidled to the left, uncomfortable with his nearness, even though he had promised not to force her in the bedding. "Yea, twelve times, you dolt. You told me a man could... you know... that peak thing... twelve times. Hah! Two times was an ordeal for you."
"Oh, so now you taunt me about my manly capabilities, do you? A dangerous game, Eadyth. Very dangerous. Mayhap I planned to complete the 'peaking' thing when we returned to Ravenshire. After all, there are twenty-four hours in the day, and we only spent one hour in that glen."
Eadyth frowned, unsure if he was serious or teasing her again. He was rubbing his hairless upper lip in his usual manner, still missing his mustache, and she could not see the expression on his lips. Twelve times! Was that really possible? "Well, little difference it makes to me if you grunt and groan once or fifty times, it will not happen again with me."
"Grunt and groan! Really, Eadyth, you have a way with words that is not seemly for a woman."
"You knew my language was unseemly afore you married me."
"But I did not know how beautiful you are, and now that I do, I want to make love with you."
Eadyth's heart skipped a beat at his enticing words. "Will you take away your lackwit rules?"
Eadyth thought she heard the grinding of Eirik's teeth.
"Nay, my 'lackwit rules' stand... for now. Will you trust me, Eadyth, that I know what is best... for now?"
"You ask too much," she said on a soft groan
He threw his hands out in resignation. "I will not beg." He turned then and walked away from her toward the bed.
Her eyes widened, but she could not turn away when he sat down and removed his leather boots, then drew the wool tunic over his head. He held her eyes the whole time as he stood and unlaced his braies, letting them drop at his feet.
Eadyth gave a quick intake of breath at his wonderful body, with all its hard surfaces of muscle and sinew, silky hair and masculine curves... and hard, hard manhood standing out in invitation to her. She should close her eyes to shut out the temptation. She did not.
"I know how Eve felt in the Garden of Eden," she admitted ruefully, despite her better judgment.
"Tempted are you, Eadyth?" he asked huskily. "Are you likening me to Adam?"
She came to her senses immediately. "Nay, the snake."
He chuckled softly and lay down on the soft mattress, watching her.
"I cannot sleep next to you."
" 'Tis your choice. Sleep on the stool, or on the floor, or in the bed. I already promised not to touch you against your will."
Eadyth moved closer to the bed and removed her veil-gown. Then she edged herself onto the mattress on the far side, complaining, "There are no bed linens. What will I use if it turns cold?" She immediately regretted her words.
"Mayhap you can seek my body heat. I swear my skin is hotter than Hades right now."
"I would rather grow icicles on my nose," she declared stubbornly. "And best you keep that icicle of yours on your own side of the bed."
He laughed. " 'Tis more like a hot poker right now."
She made a sound of disgust and turned onto her stomach, burrowing into the mattress as she tried to get comfortable. "I cannot sleep without a bed linen covering me."
"I could cover your cold body with my 'hot poker'."
"You are as vulgar as a hog in heat."
"Do hogs go into heat? Or is it sows? Hmmm. I did not know that. But then you know so much more about these domestic matters."
"How would I know if hogs go into heat?" she exclaimed sharply, her nerv
ousness gaining the better of her emotions.
He chuckled.
The boor.
"Did you know that hogs have a cock shaped like a twisted, spiral bore, and that it grows to be as long as a man's arm when it is erect?"
"Liar."
"I swear, 'tis the truth. Ask any farmer. And then there are turtles, of course. Did you know that their male parts turn inside out in the mating? And Tykir told me once that he met a man who had two, but I do not know if I believe that."
"Oh, you are outrageous! I am not listening to you anymore. So go to sleep," she said, putting her hands over her ears. "Go and snore your head off."
"Mayhap I will pleasure myself, instead."
She gasped and turned angrily on him, revealing that she could hear his words even with her hands over her ears.
He lay with his hands folded behind his head, grinning arrogantly back at her, his manhood standing up in the air.
"Did you want to watch?"
Her mouth dropped open. In truth, she did not really know what he meant, but she was sure it was perverted. "You look... foolish," she declared, waving a hand at his nether parts, but refusing to look again.
"Do you think so? Some women do not share your opinion."
Eadyth turned away from him again, an odd tearing sensation pulling at her heart. He spoke of other women so easily. Would he go to Asa, his mistress, now that she'd turned him away? Or find another closer to home? Eadyth tried not to care. But she did.
Reluctantly, Eadyth recalled the sweet lovemaking Eirik had initiated that afternoon. The brute had taught her body how to respond to passion, something she had never thought possible. And she had allowed herself to hope that they could have a true marriage, one like she had dreamed of as a young girl.
"Eirik?" she asked softly.
"Yea," he answered, his tone equally soft.
"Can you not compromise? Cannot you allow for equality in this marriage? Would it be so bad to have a wife with a mind of her own? I would not want to usurp your authority, just share it. Can you not agree to that?"
A long silence followed.
Finally, Eirik exhaled loudly. "Nay, not now. Mayhap someday, but not now, Eadyth. Not now."
Eadyth's heart dropped. Clinging to her edge of the bed, she allowed the silent tears to stream down her face. So this was what the rest of her life would be like.
Eadyth did not allow herself to wallow in self-pity for long. In truth, her fate—a loveless marriage—was no worse than that of most women she knew, and better than some. Resigning herself, she tried to sleep, but could not. She tossed. She turned. Finally, she rolled over on her side and looked at her husband whose even breaths bespoke a deep sleep. Her lips curled into a sneer. How like a man! They riled a woman, made her angry and upset, then, in the midst of an argument, walked away or fell into a snoring slumber. Well, Eirik was not snoring yet, but he probably would. The mule!
And this coupling thing, Eadyth thought with chagrin, having thought about little else all day. Why was it a man's choice to make love or not make love? Why must men be the ones to initiate the loveplay and the women docilely await their whims? Those pleasures Eirik had made her feel that day... well, men, no doubt, kept this a secret from their wives so they would not demand more from them. It was one further way in which men controlled women, Eadyth decided.
But what if... hmmm.
Nay, I could not.
Well, why not?
He might awaken.
I could be very careful.
So Eadyth, ever the managing person, took matters into her own hands.
Chapter Fifteen
With supreme care, Eadyth edged closer to Eirik, who slept on his back, one arm thrown over his head. Through the light of the burning candles, Eadyth watched, fascinated, as he breathed deeply through parted lips. Even his breathing was enticing, sexual, Eadyth acknowledged with a rueful shake of her head.
Leaning her head on one elbow, Eadyth studied her husband's face. Fine laugh lines crinkled the edges of his eyes and the corners of his firm lips. She liked them. Yea, she did. The wrinkles added character to his face.
Now that she had become accustomed to Eirik's lack of a mustache, she decided she liked that, too. Some men looked better with a mustache because it hid thin, weak lips. Eirik's lips were full and sensuous, definitely not weak. Could she touch them without awakening him? Well, mayhap, very lightly. With the tip of her forefinger, she traced the sculpted edges and wished, very much, that she could press her lips against his. Not because she wanted to kiss the brute, she told herself, just to satisfy her curiosity about their firmness.
With reluctant admiration, Eadyth assessed the rest of Eirik's body, from his lightly furred chest to his big, narrow feet. With all its myriad scars, it was a soldier's body, finely honed with thick muscles and manly curves. Very nice. But then the loathsome lout no doubt knew that too well. 'Twas why he had such wordfame with women, she supposed. That and his talent for the "peaking" thing.
Just examining her husband's body had turned Eadyth's blood thick and her limbs heavy and aching. She looked down at her breasts, then over to Eirik's flat male nipples. How different they were, and yet the same. Tentatively, Eadyth touched a fingertip to one of his nipples. One touch was not enough. Checking to make sure he was still asleep, she leaned forward and enclosed one of the hard buds with the wetness of her lips. Then she stabbed it lightly with the tip of her tongue. She pulled away immediately when she thought she heard him groan. But, checking quickly, she saw that he slept evenly, though his parted lips had closed, and he now breathed evenly through his nose.
Carefully, Eadyth sat up, then knelt on her haunches. There was a part of Eirik's body she wanted to look at a bit more closely. Making sure he had not awakened, she leaned forward and looked at "it" curiously. Nestled over his male sacs, the limp man-thing certainly looked different than it did when standing at attention.
She touched it with her fingertips and immediately drew her hand back, as if burned. She almost giggled aloud. It felt so soft and squishy, like a giant worm.
Getting more daring, she reached forward and this time wrapped her fingers gently around it. Oh, the skin is loose... and movable. How odd!
Then "it" started to grow under her fingers. Eadyth gasped and released "it" carefully. Slanting a look sideways, she saw that Eirik continued to sleep soundly. He must have drunk a great amount of her mead at dinner. Then she turned her attention back down and saw that his man part continued to grow, thicker and longer. Now the skin tightened like smooth marble and glistened. 'Twas like magic.
Well, not magic, really. Eadyth had lived in a household of rough men for too many years not to have heard of "morning lust" or "piss hard" male parts. Apparently, "it" grew for many reasons, not necessarily just for mating.
This coupling business was all a puzzle to Eadyth, a wondrous puzzle, one she could not yet fathom. Even looking at Eirik's body made her feel strange, rather restless. Wanton. She wanted to touch all of his body, learn his secret places, what brought him pleasure. And she wanted him to do the same to her.
Why did he have to ruin everything with his silly rules?
With a deep sigh of regret, Eadyth knelt upright and was about to lie down and try to sleep again when she glanced at Eirik's face and saw his eyes, wide open and staring at her.
Their gazes held for a long, interminable moment. He said nothing, but his glazed eyes and parted lips told her of his desire. Still, he did not reach for her or ask her to make love with him. Then she remembered. He had told her he would not beg.
"I do not want to make love with you," she said defensively, then realized she was kneeling before him, naked. She sat and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her calves.
Eirik said nothing, but his ragged breathing spoke for him.
She slanted a look at him. "Men make such a pother about their bodies. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."
He snickered softl
y in disbelief.
"Well, 'tis true. Besides, men are always assaulting women, forcing their favors on them, making them submit. I wanted to see how it would be to reverse the order, to be in control."
"So why stop now?" he asked thickly, as if he had trouble speaking.
"Huh?"
"Making love is not about control, Eadyth. But if you think you would enjoy being the aggressor, please... please, be my guest."
She blinked at him, not understanding. Then he leaned forward and lifted her over his body, high up, with her knees on either side of his hips. Before she could protest, he lowered her onto his hard staff, filling her, causing the walls of her womanhood to shift and expand to accommodate him. By then, Eadyth could not have protested if her life depended on it.
A light sleeper, Eirik had known the moment Eadyth moved to his side of the bed. With rigid self-control, he had forced his breathing to an even rhythm, his eyes to remain shut.
Eirik had counted to one hundred in his mind, trying desperately not to react to his wife's light touch. Easy, easy, he had told himself, and had been forced to start his counting over three times.
When Eadyth had taken his staff into her hand, Eirik had gritted his teeth. Surely, his eyes had been rolling in circles behind his closed lids. He had willed his body to stay motionless, but his staff had a mind of its own.
Eirik had lain with so many women he had lost count years ago, but he did not know how to handle this wife of his. She sat astraddle him, the hot sheath of her womanhood clasping him in welcome, her passion dew flowing over him like warm honey, but her pale violet eyes were wide with fear and confusion.
"I suppose you think you have won," she said.
"Won what?" he asked on a groan, having difficulty reining in his body's raging need.
"This war betwixt us. This need you have to control me."
"Eadyth, you have me pinned to the bed with your woman heat. My bones are melting for need of you. If I do not touch you soon, or taste you, I fear my mind will splinter apart. Now, I ask you, who is controlling whom here?"