“I know naught of presents, but come back and I will show you how to make me feel better.” He scratched his naked stomach as he fell back onto the bed.
Serilda laughed as he dropped the unopened package and pulled her to his chest. Strange and colorful lights began to dance around them. “Do not worry. Soon, there will be no one to stop you. I have seen the future.”
“Yea, witch.” Stuart let the drug take him over completely. “I have seen it, too.”
Chapter Fourteen
Della languidly stretched her arms above her head, sliding against the soft fur coverlet. A contended sigh whispered dreamily from her parted lips. She refused to open her eyes, satisfied to lie in the soft cloud of the bed. Her body still stung with pleasure from the night of lovemaking. Brant’s stamina had been tireless and Della swore she could still feel the brand of his touch over the whole length of her body.
By the end of their fourth joining, Brant had explored every inch of her. She in turn learned the workings of his desire. His lips, his skin, his appetite, everything had been so new to her. He’d shown her repeated pleasure until her body refused to move, and he’d shown her positions from which her limbs would surely never recover. When he was sated and finally let her rest, she’d drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep at his side.
She felt him breathing next to her naked body. His knee came between her legs from behind and his arm wrapped around her so that his hand rested possessively on her breast. He flexed his fingers gently against her nipple. A wave of longing shot through her.
Again? She smiled, liking the idea. She wondered if he still slept.
Opening her eyes, she saw it was indeed late in the day. She couldn’t remember when she’d lazed about so long in bed—probably because she never had.
“Brant?” Della’s eyes sparked with naughty pleasure. “Lord Blackwell, are you awake?”
When she received no answer, she disentangled her legs from his and turned in his arms. He slept quietly, his chest rising and falling in a deep, even sleep. She took her finger and ran it down the center of his chest, watching his eyes to see if he stirred. Her sex grew moist as she thought of him inside of her.
Leaning back, she peeked at his member. It lay limp and soft on the bed. Della frowned in puzzlement. It had looked much bigger at night and had been very hard.
I’ve broken it! Della gasped.
She watched his face to see if he showed any signs of pain as she flicked it with the tip of her finger. He didn’t move and he didn’t seem to be hurt. Growing adventurous she touched it more fully. It was silky and pliable and the skin moved peculiarly when she rubbed it. Della tried not to laugh as she glanced back up. Brant’s chest still rose and fell in sleep.
Mayhap it only works at night, Della concluded. Her heart dropped a bit in disappointment. But then she felt his shaft twitch in her hands and quickly looked down to see what had happened.
Before her eyes, it started to grow and form in her palm. The more it grew, the firmer it became. Della moved her hand to the base of his shaft. She wrapped her fingers about the width and squeezed gently while running her hand to the tip. Almost instantly it sprung to capacity. Her breathing deepened as she recalled the delight he had been able to give her. Grabbing his butt, she pulled him toward her hips.
“Methinks you are up to no good this morn, wife,” Brant grumbled sleepily. He’d felt her turn in his arms. It had been part of his war training to be able to wake quickly and look as if he still slept. When his mind had determined there was no need for him to be too on alert, he’d relaxed enough to let his wife explore his body. It had taken all of his might to hold still and let her touch him. Lifting one eyelid to study her, he asked, “Are you not sated, wench?”
Della blushed prettily, but didn’t stop her bold advances. “It’s your pagan curse, m’lord. If you have complaints, take it off me.”
Most women of little experience were too self-conscious to make such bold confessions. He was amazed, though greatly pleased, by her assertiveness and by the quick change in her temperament toward him. She’d softened dramatically. Brant moved his hand over her smooth hip. In one deft motion, he lifted her leg with his hand and rolled so he could enter her. “Nay, wife, if you are cursed, I will you to remain so.”
Della shifted her hips to accept him.
“Nay, not yet.” Brant gave her a purposeful growl. He still wanted her, but after the night of love play he was finally able to control his lust. During the night, every time she’d moved to accept him, he had been unable to resist. “Let us play a little game.”