Two Passionate Proposals (11 page)

Henry pulled back again. “You learn
quickly.” His breaths came sharply, and his eyes shone with an emotion she
could not read.

“Do not stop,” she begged.

He rewarded her with a laugh. “Patience, my
lady.” He lifted her once again from the coffer. She wrapped her legs around
him and squeezed her thighs; he groaned, capturing her lips with his own. He
carried her to the bed, kissing her, and bumped into the table along the way,
sending it crashing to the ground. Then he knocked against the bedpost, and her
nightgown tumbled to the floor. He tossed her onto the bed so she bounced
slightly on the thick feather mattress, then, laughing, he fell on top of her
and pinned her to the covers.

“Get out of this,” he teased, catching her
hands and restraining them above her head.

He was heavy, lying full length upon her,
but his weight was wonderful, and delight rippled through her. She squirmed
beneath him, grinding her hips against his. “I do not want to.” She pouted, feeling
the tip of him pressing up between her legs. She caught his bottom lip between
her teeth, biting gently, then parted her legs so she was open and ready for
him.

Henry growled like a wolf and rolled,
bringing her on top and pushing her shoulders up so she sat astride him. “You
do it. As slowly as you want.”

She couldn’t have been more shocked. She’d
only ever made love with Geoffrey lying on her back. “You wish me to be on top?”

He laughed. “Absolutely, my lady.” He
caught her hands again, bringing them above his head so she leaned over him.

Catching her nipple in his mouth, he ran
his tongue over it, and she groaned. She could feel him pressing against her,
and this time, he didn’t seem to want to stop. Eleanor pushed her hips, moving
a little from side to side until she felt the tip of him enter her. Slowly, she
slid down him until he was fully inside her.

Henry gasped, held his breath, then let it
out slowly as she began to move on top of him. His tanned skin glowed,
beautifully lit by the fire. She ran her hands up the defined muscles of his
chest, across his wide shoulders, along his firm arms. She traced the scar at
the top of his ribs and lowered her head to kiss it gently. Henry sighed, and
she kissed up to his mouth again, teasing his tongue with her own.

He raised his hands to caress her breasts,
and she arched her back in response, letting her hair fall onto his legs, brush
his thighs. He tangled one hand in the locks, running his fingers through it.
He wrapped the tresses around and around his hand, as he had with her braid.
She dipped her head, and he claimed her lips once more. She could feel the heat
searing through him, setting him alight.

It wasn’t enough; she wanted more. Now she
knew her power, she wanted to use it to make him burn. Her desire swept through
her, carrying with it an urgency refusing to be stilled. She kissed him hard,
taunted him with her tongue, opened her mouth to welcome him. Spreading her
thighs, she let him drive deeper inside her. Part of her was shocked at her passion,
at her lack of inhibition, but a greater part was aroused, fanning the flame of
her fever.

Henry was starting to lose control; she
could sense his animal instincts taking over. Clasping her close, he rolled her
beneath him. They’d forgotten how near the edge of the bed they were, however,
and with startled laughs, they barely stopped themselves from falling off the
side.

Thoroughly enjoying herself, she exclaimed
in delight as he wrapped her legs around him and got to his feet, still inside
her. He took a few steps toward the wall, and her back met the tapestry with a
bump. She looked to one side, momentarily coming to her senses as she realised
what she leaned against.

At her wry smile, he pulled back. “What is
it?”

“I was thinking about Geoffrey.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That is not exactly
what a man likes to hear when he is in the middle of making love to a woman.”

She gave a husky laugh. “I used to count
the stitches in this tapestry while he pleasured himself.”

He lowered his head until his lips were a
hair’s breadth away from hers. “And now?”

“What tapestry?” Her giggles were soon lost
amongst more kisses, passion taking them over once again. She grabbed for the
tapestry and knocked her jewellery box and other knick-knacks off the nearby
shelf, so he lifted her clear of the wall and carried her to the sheepskin rug
in front of the fire, where he lowered her carefully.

She could see by the intensity in his gaze
that all amusement had now faded. Lying half on her, he wrapped her leg around
him and plunged into her more deeply, thrusting more rhythmically, looking into
her eyes.

A familiar feeling began to build in the
pit of her stomach. For the first time since he’d undressed her, she felt
unsure. The hall had been dark, and she’d been in a semi-dream state. Now, she
could see clearly in the firelight, and he’d be able to see every emotion
passing across her face. The thought of having that intimate feeling with Henry’s
dark eyes fixed on her, with him actually inside her, brought a warm flush to
her cheeks.

“No,” she whispered, only half meaning it.

“Yes.” He continued to thrust, relentless,
insistent.

The pleasure was building, and she realised
it was too late, too late. Her breathing quickened, her muscles tightened in
her thighs and belly, and she closed her eyes, a wave of pleasure flooding over
her. Henry stopped his movement and held her tightly as she went rigid, the
muscles rippling in repeated, exquisite contractions. She gave small, sharp
gasps, digging her fingers into his skin. And then the wave was gone, and she
went limp in his arms, breathing heavily, damp with sweat and desire.

She opened her eyes to see him watching
her. He looked, she thought, rather smug. She glared at him. “Oh no, do not
think you are going to get away with it.”

Moving herself under him, she wrapped both
legs around his waist. He balanced himself on his elbows above her, eyes dark,
as he began to move again. As he did so, she wondered what she could do to
drive him nearer to the brink. Carefully, she tightened her pelvic muscles.
Henry grunted, and his pace quickened. She did it again, and he groaned, his
eyes closing.

“I am going to watch you, this time,” she
whispered in his ear, slowly raking her nails up his back.

Pleasuring him did not take long, to her
satisfaction. She tightened her thighs twice more, and he shuddered, emptying
himself into her. She ran her hands up his solid biceps, over his pectorals,
fascinated with how big and strong he had grown.

Henry gradually relaxed, but didn’t
withdraw, seeming to enjoy her warmth and the closeness of her wrapped around
him. She followed his gaze as he looked at the devastation they had wreaked
around them. Together they burst out laughing.

“Did I do it right?” she asked, as he
finally withdrew from her and lay on his back in front of the fire, one arm
resting on his brow.

He turned his head toward her and smiled. “You
tell me, Lady Eleanor. It has never been quite like that before. I think you
have taught me a thing or two, tonight.”

A glow spread across her cheeks that had
nothing to do with the heat of the fire. “I feel sorry for the maids. Having to
clean up after us two.”

He laughed and lifted his arm, then lowered
it around her as she curled up against his chest. They lay for a while, letting
the fire warm them, and she thought about nothing but the moment and the feel
of his heart beneath her cheek.

*

Later, they arose from the rug, and Henry
poured them both a goblet of wine. Then they retired to bed, he curling around
her, nuzzling her ear as they lay there, warm and comfortable.

“You smell good.” He lifted her hair to his
face, inhaling the scent of her.

She smiled. “I smell of you.”

“So you do.” He laughed and kissed her
shoulder. “And I smell of you.”

She turned on her back and looked up at
him. “I will not forget you, Henry.”

He tipped his head. “You are no longer
calling me Hal?”

“You are too grown up. Though I loved the
youth, I want to remember you this way.”

His smile faded. He studied her, his
expression unreadable, and for a moment, she recalled him sitting on his horse
in front of his army, his plate armour glinting in the sunlight, a symbol of
power and strength.

She reached up and touched his face. “Thank
you.”

“For what?” He looked amused, brushing her
cheek with the back of his hand.

“For showing me what it should be like. At
last, I can appreciate the jokes and the comments made by the maids and the
castle guard. It always used to puzzle me why they seemed to think lovemaking
such an interesting topic. Now I understand.”

He smiled. “You are welcome.”

She shook her head. “I would not have
believed it could be so different from what it was like with Geoffrey.”

“How did you put up with him for so long?”

“He was away a lot. That helped.”

He smiled, but there was sadness in his
eyes. “I cannot bear to think of that oaf making love to you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, what we did was
not lovemaking, I realise that now. What you and I did, that was sensual,
erotic, passionate…”

“And we will be doing it again very soon if
you carry on like that.”

She followed his pointed gaze to where she
had been stroking his thigh, and her eyes widened, seeing him erect once more. “Again?”

“You thought that was it?”

“I…” The word trailed into a sigh as he ran
his hand up her leg and began to trail lazy circles in her pubic hair.

“You want me to stop?” He drew light
fingers over her stomach, making her shiver.

“Would you, if I said yes?”

“No.” He grinned, bringing his hand up to
her breasts and circling—but not quite touching—her nipples.

He had a mischievous look in his eyes that
told her he was enjoying playing with her. Had he had the same look when he’d
made love to Maud? Or the other women he’d bedded? She wondered what would
happen to him when she was married off to her next husband and sent to live in the
middle of nowhere. No doubt he would marry again. Some other woman would soon
be lying in her place, enjoying his touch as she was now.

Jealousy knifed through her heart. She
wanted to tell him she loved him, that she couldn’t bear to lose him again, but
she didn’t want to spoil the moment with pointless talk. It would only ruin
this special time—this day between days, wherein she’d stolen back a piece of
the life she’d once been promised.

Still, she felt tears welling and bit her lip,
trying to stop them falling.

Henry frowned. “No, no sadness.” He began
to cover her in light kisses, starting at her mouth and moving gradually along
her body. “It is not tomorrow yet.”

He was right, she thought, and pushed the
worry about her future to the back of her mind, concentrating on the feelings
his mouth aroused in her as he kissed across her stomach. His lips brushed the
line of her pubic hair, and she held her breath. Surely not. But he continued
his kiss to one of her hips, then began to move down her thigh. She released
the breath slowly. She didn’t think she could have coped with him kissing her
there
.

He planted soft kisses all the way down,
then ran a light tongue around her ankle before switching to her other leg and
continuing the journey there. He kissed back up her calves, every now and again
touching his tongue to her skin, making her shiver under its light wetness.

He traced a path with his mouth, up her
inner thigh, and her breath grew shallow again.

“You would not…” She didn’t realise she’d
spoken aloud until he lifted his head and showed her the mischievous light in
his eyes.

“I would…”

She covered her face with her arm as the
heat flamed. She hadn’t known men did such things!

He brushed her hair with his lips again,
then slid his warm tongue gently all the way up her most intimate parts. She
felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room. All her concentration
focused on the sensations he caused.

She’d never felt anything like what she was
feeling now. With his mouth so warm, and the gentle stroking of his tongue so
delicious, she felt as if she were melting. She bore his touch for several
minutes, repeatedly catching her breath, then groaned as her stomach muscles
began to tighten. He stopped then, however, and the feeling subsided. She gave
a shivery sigh.

He shifted and removed her arm from across
her face, sliding it under him, then reclined next to her, his hand resting on
her thigh.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. He
watched her as he ran light fingers into her pubic hair. She inhaled, letting
the breath out shakily as he lifted his hand.

“Do you want me?” He let his hand hover
above her body.

“I want you,” she whispered, wondering how
his eyes seemed to look right into her very heart.