Page 35 of Propriety
Her fingers danced along his collarbone, letting herself live in this moment, no matter the shame she should feel. “Not that I didn’t want to.” She continued, fingers shifting to curl in the tufts of hair on his chest. “I just thought — maybe that’s all there is for women like me. Duty. Performance. Obedience.”
She tried not to smile as his brow furrowed. She could almost see the arguments running through his head. “I’m glad it was you,” Gwen reached up to smooth the wrinkle between his eyebrows, a faint blush creeping up her neck as she settled back in his arms, head on his chest.
As they lay there, her eyes drifted across him to the noticeably large bulge in his breeches. Her breath caught, sitting up quickly. “Oh,” she whispered, the feeling of embarrassment creeping up.
Her hand drifted over the covered planes of his chest, sights set lower.
Lancelot quickly grabbed her hand, scowling.
“Let me return the favor, knight.” She said, trying to soundseductive and not absolutely boneless.
A little less than gently, he pulled her back down to his chest. “No.” He murmured into her hair, a large hand splaying across her back, keeping her anchored. “You are not a transaction. You deserve to be worshipped and have to give nothing in return.” His voice was so stern, it bordered on comical.
She allowed her eyes to close, mesmerized by the sound of his racing heart. She searched for shame, for guilt and for fear — but found none.
Guinevere wasn’t sure she had ever felt so wholly… herself. “I think that might have been a sin of the highest nature.” She spoke, the words unbidden from her mouth.
Her knight laughed beneath her, free hand coming up to gently cradle her jaw. “Nothing with a taste so sweet could ever be holy, my love.”
15
It was when she awoke with a lightness in her bones and in her soul that the fear crept in. But — it wasn’t fear of Arthur, or the repercussions for her infidelity…
It was the fear that she might never feel the way she did right now. A fear that whatever was blossoming between her and the knight under her touch… would never come to fruition.
It wasn’t the first time Guinevere had wished that someone else had been vowed to Arthur… but this time; it felt personal.
“You’re thinking too loud.” A rasp came from beneath her cheek. “The sun is hardly up, Gwen. Go back to sleep.”
Her fingers grazed the skin on his neck, reveling in the way she couldtouchhim. “Don’t we have to go?” She asked, but she nestled deeper into the warmth of his body, pulled the blanket tighter around the both of them.
“No.” He tipped her chin up, his hooded gaze meeting hers. “I paid for two days. You deserved a day of rest.” And a tinge of blush painted his cheeks.
“Wait a minute-” Gwen sat up, eyes narrowing. “Did youknowlast night was going to happen?”
“Your highness.” His hand snaked around her waist, tugging herback down to him. “Can you blame me for hoping?”
Swatting at him playfully, she sighed. “No, but I can blame you for premeditation, you rake.” But she laughed, and the sound coming from her mouth almost brought tears to her eyes.
He didn’t attempt to argue, just took his far hand and placed it on her neck, fingers threading gently through her ratted curls. “You won’t get a rise out of me, highness.” He whispered, and a lump formed in Gwen’s throat.
He wastender. His hands touched her with so much reverence, it felt like her skin was alight.
As if, once again, sensing the shift in her, Lancelot ran the pad of his thumb along her cheek. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Guinevere.”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” She finally said, feeling foolish for thinking of Arthur at a moment like this.
Lancelot shifted them, rolling over on his side so he could face her. He gently brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “I don’t either — I want to talk aboutyou. What’s going on in that head of yours, Queen?”
She closed her eyes, unable to hold his deep blue gaze much longer. “I’ve always… I’ve always done what was expected of me.” She whispered, tears springing up quickly. “Smiled when I should, held my tongue, sat on a throne that never really felt like mine.” She shook her head, drawing in a steadying breath. “I thought that was enough. That maybe… thathadto be enough.”
Lancelot didn’t speak, but she felt his fingertips graze her cheek. Just enough to reaffirm that he was here, that she wasn’t alone.
“He didn’t use to be a cruel man,” she continued, fighting back the urge to just collapse back into him. “He hasn’t always been unkind,he just…”
A breath.
“He doesn’t see me. Not really. Not when we talk, or when we dine. Not when we-” She felt her throat tighten, emotions that she had long since tucked away bubbling up. “Not even when he touches me. It’s like… I don’t know, something symbolic?” She shook her head.
