Arching her back, she thrust forward in the rhythm he’d taught her. He slid into her with ease. Della let out a loud moan of satisfaction, propelling him forward with a mighty thrust of her hips. She was so hot and her liquid caused his shaft to glide freely. Brant grunted his animalistic demands into her heaving breast as he continually sheathed himself within her.
Della seized another tree branch above her head for support as his movements became more fervent. His lips grazed the opposite breast, giving it as much attention as he had its twin.
“Yea, Della,” Brant encouraged with another violent thrust. “That’s it, accept me within you. Let me ride you.”
He plunged in and out of her softness, his shaft possessing her very core with its thick length. She treasured the potency of her husband as he claimed her. He was so strong, so powerful. His size dominated her. His strength commanded and controlled her. She gripped the branches as his hands supported her backside under the heavy gown she wore, squeezing and spreading the mounds. The rhythm of his hips quickened, urging her to her release.
Della screamed as she neared the trembling end of her agony and the beginning of her zenith. His hips attacked with the unrelenting persistence of a conquering army, pumping deeper and faster inside her. Suddenly, his barbarous yell joined hers as he released his seed, their joined flesh trembling in perfect unison.
As the quaking subsided, Della’s limbs weakened and dropped from the tree onto the support of his shoulders. Her heavy breath mingled with his.
“It’s a good thing one is only allowed to do that once a night, lest it might get addicting.” Della sighed against his shoulder, completely sated. She was too weak to be self-conscious. “It might be I who shackles you to a bed. Methinks I may make you my prisoner.”
“Ah, my poor misguided wife.” Brant chucked as he kissed her brow. “We shall see how many times a night one can do that.”
“You mean?” She leaned back as he set her on the ground. He nodded as he fastened his braccas at his waist. A heated flush came to her features, but her eyes flashed with excitement. “How many times?”
He leaned over and picked up the rest of their discarded clothing. Looking up through the long strands of his blond hair, he shot her a devilish smile. “Come, wife, let us go abovestairs. We shall find out together.”
* * * * *
“M’lord?” The midwife looked up in mild surprise. “How did you get in here?”
“Never you mind how.” Stuart slipped off his wet undertunic and threw it on the floor near the small fire. The full moon had outlined the hard lines of the castle and he had seen the lax castle guards easily in the pale blue light. They didn’t expect intruders, instead watching the distant competitions in the exercise yard, jesting and wagering at their posts. He’d swum the freezing waters of the moat and scaled the rough stone of the newly constructed wall to get back inside Strathfeld. The stonemason had yet to completely smooth the stone, making it easier to climb.
Stuart shook the water from his short hair and gave the woman an irate look. She crushed herbs and paused to scrape at the powder she prepared with her long fingernail to test its consistency and dig out a few unwanted specks. “I wasn’t about to sleep on the ground without the benefit of my servants, who even now slumber soundly within the keep.”
Serilda nodded and motioned to the bed. “Then sleep if it’s why yer here, m’lord.”
Even her flattery in using the title that was not his didn’t cheer him.
“Why did you not send word sooner, Serilda? Do you know how much harder things are now?” Stuart pouted in anguish, ignoring her invitation for sleep as he scowled.
“No, why don’t you tell me how hard things are?” Serilda glanced to where his shaft lay between his thighs and gave him a catlike smile. She busied herself grinding another handful of herbs into powder, crushing them onto a slight piece of marble with a flat stone.
“This isn’t amusing,” Stuart fumed. “I have spent my entire life catering to her fears, becoming her friend, so much so that five years ago I could take it no more and disappeared. I trusted you to keep me informed.”
“You soon forget,” Serilda said bitterly. “You also left me five years ago.”
“Nay, I have been back since then. Do you forget our nights together so easily?”
“Nay.” Serilda hid her emotions from her eyes, instead choosing to flash him a relaxed smile. “Though one can hardly claim that once or twice a year is being attentive, m’lord.”
“I never stopped you from finding pleasure elsewhere.” Stuart said with a lustful smirk. “In fact, I remember watching you get it elsewhere on occasion.”