Page 163 of Bride of Fire
But her throat ached. What if he said nay? How could she bear the thought of never seeing him again?
“’Twill take a few days to prepare for the journey home.” His voice was ragged with bitter defeat. “But we’ll delay no more than that. We must leave ere winter comes.”
It wasn’t much. But it was something.
Jenefer would just have to use every weapon of seduction in her arsenal in the coming days to convince him to stay.
Chapter 67
Beneath the tangle they’d made of the coverlet, Morgan felt Jenefer arch in ecstasy.
Her fingers clawed at the bedlinens.
Her astonished mouth fell open.
Between his legs, he felt the blood surge to his hungry beast, caught within the cage of her womb.
She moaned in need.
He growled in impatience.
They gasped together in growing wonder.
Then, just as he feared another instant of delay would make him explode, she shook with tremors of rapture, releasing him to shudder in his own welcome relief.
Their passion spent, they fell back on the bed in happy, breathless exhaustion. Again.
It wasn’t the first time he’d made love to Jenefer in the week since their battle with the English.
It was, however, the most comfortable location. With a fire crackling on the hearth and morning storm clouds outside the window, his bed—herbed now, he reminded himself—was definitely his favorite place for bedding.
Last eve, they’d trysted in the straw. Jenefer had lured him to the stable, telling him she wanted his opinion on enlarging it to accommodate knights for the tournaments she planned to hold.
Yesterday morn, they’d discussed reorganizing the armory and wound up swiving on a pile of targes.
The day before that, she’d led him down to the pond, explaining how it could be dug deeper for bathing. Naturally, she’d had to show him how shallow it was, peeling off every stitch of her clothing and wading into the freezing water. He’d had to warm her up afterward in a nearby thicket.
What she lacked in experience, the lass made up for in ambition. And her creativity was keeping him distracted from his responsibilities.
Yet the longer he delayed getting his clan ready to leave Creagor, the less he felt like leaving.
He could definitely get used to this.
If he lingered much longer, he’dhaveto get used to it. The lass’s appetite for love, like her appetite for food, seemed insatiable.
But he was running out of excuses to remain. And he knew it was pure selfishness that made him wish to stay.
He sighed as he glared up at the ceiling.
Yesterday, a small contingent of servants from Rivenloch had arrived to complement Jenefer’s household. In addition, her mother had gifted her with a flock of sheep, a few cows, assorted fowl, a pair of oxen, and even a handsome destrier. Six knights and six archers had moved into the armory with their weaponry.
Soon she wouldn’t need his protection.
Meanwhile, Morgan only tortured himself with procrastination.
Disgruntled, he rose up on his elbows. “I should go.”
“Go? What do you mean, go?” Did he imagine the subtle note of panic in her voice before she tempered it with a coy smile? “Don’t be daft. We haven’t even had breakfast yet.”
