Page 11 of The White Knight

As I turn toward my bedroom, Arthur takes my hand in his again. “Are you too tired to stay up a bit longer?”

The sparkle in his eye tells me what he wants. Though I am completely knackered, I still feel emotionally frazzled and in need of relief. “My bed or yours?” I respond with a kiss.

Before I can pull away, Arthur pulls me to his chest, lifting my head to his lips again for a kiss filled with urgency. I hold on to him, pushing him toward his bedroom. Tonight, I need to indulge in his body. My thoughts for the past two weeks have fallen into the depths of my sorrow, missing Lancelot, needing his touch, his love, his smile.

We tear each other’s clothes off as we reach the foot of Arthur’s bed. Before I can make my move, Arthur throws me face down on the bed. I feel his hardness as he straddles me from behind, entering me fully in one quick lunge.

I yell into the covers from the intrusion. Though I am willing and ready, I’m caught off guard by Arthur’s demanding body. He knows I was thinking of Lance, which is why he takes me from behind. Arthur surprises me often with his ability to see into my soul. Knowing I crave the touch of my first husband, he gives me the illusion.

Using each other’s bodies has become a normal part of our relationship. We both lost a beloved spouse. Lovers our hearts still miss. Our pain strengthens us. I can talk to Arthur about everything and he returns his own sentiments.

Moments like this, when we get lost in our heated passions, threaten to tear my soul to bits. And I let it. I need to let myself go. Breaking down my walls brings me closer to Arthur. Healing my heart more and more every time I pull myself back together.

Arthur shifts his weight off me, moving his hands to my hips, guiding me onto all fours. This position allows him to thrust even deeper, and I take him, all of him. Showing me what he wants with his hands, he pushes me away from him, then at the same steady pace, pulls me back until my entrance reaches the root of his cock. I moan with delight, begging for more as he releases his hands from my hips.

I follow his lead, slowly pulling him out and pushing him back in. It is blissful torture. A hand caresses the peaks of my breasts, causing a loud moan to escape from my throat. I sit up, quickly wrapping my arms around his neck behind me, grinding into him for release.

His hand massages my breasts erratically in delightful pain. Just as I reach my climax, I feel his own release beginning to stir, sending vibrations through my body. He bites down on my neck, hard. It’s painful but makes the orgasm stronger, sending me into eternal bliss.

We fall down onto the bed together, still attached from behind. As Arthur curls his arms around me, I feel his cock slowly slide out, a soft moan tickling my ear.

“Do you think of him when we—”

“Not all the time.” I interrupt Arthur before he can finish his statement.

“Were you thinking of him now?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like what I do to you in bed?”

“Yes. Except maybe the bite.”

“I am sorry if I hurt you. That was for me.”

“I know. It didn’t hurt too bad. The bite.”

“Sometimes I want to be the one you think of. I want to remind you it is me inside of you.”

I turn around to face Arthur, needing to look him in the eyes. “I know it’s you. I’m sorry I so often think of him. I don’t think I will ever forget him, Arthur. It’s been eight years, and he still consumes me. And when I look into Galahad’s eyes…”

“I know. I am not asking you to forget Lancelot. I will never ask that of you. And you very well know that I often think of my late wife. How different our lives would be if we had not lost them.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” My lips brush his cheek with a quick peck. “I do love you, Arthur. I had my doubts at first, if we could make this work. You’ve been wonderful to me, to Galahad. You’ve fulfilled all your promises and more. And yes, I wish with all my heart that Lancelot was still alive and we could live happily ever after at Joyous Gard. That doesn’t mean I’m not happy here, with you. And I know you feel the same.”

“Good. That is just want I wanted to hear.” Arthur kisses me on the forehead. “Now get some sleep. We both need to be well rested for tomorrow’s festivities.”

“Are you going to let Galahad battle tomorrow?”

“Yes, but only in a mock battle. Gaheris will feign injury to Galahad’s training sword.”

“As long as no one gets hurt,” I say, anxiety pouring out of my mouth.

“Gaheris may hurt himself by falling dramatically to the ground. He will be fine though. Do not worry yourself.”

“Easier said than done.”

Chapter 8

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