He moaned and lifted his head after a long while. His manhood felt like twas about to leap out of his breeches. He had never been so aroused before in his life.
Not even close.
And all he'd done was kiss her.
He stared down at her flushed face. Her eyes were soft. Her lips bruised. Her breathing as belabored as his.
He wanted her.
She wanted him.
In truth, there was no reason not to have her, here and now. No one need know but them and God.
And surely God would forgive him. He was only human after all, not a man carved of stone. He could not stand strong against such delicious temptation.
"Ye know I intend to wed you, do you not?"
She nodded, her eyes shining.
"Aye."
He squeezed her slender waist.
"And is it what you wish as well?"
Again she nodded, and something broke open in his chest, filling him with love.
"Aye Geoffrey. It is."
<><><><><>
She'd meant to tell him the truth about her dowry. She'd meant to. And yet she'd hesitated when the moment had come. And when he'd kissed her like that.
She'd never known such passion.
She'd been lost.
Now she was writhing beneath him on the bed, feeling things she'd never felt before.
Heat.
Hunger.
Desire.
Desperation.
Aye, she was desperate. Desperate that he stop making her feel this wild clamoring hunger. Desperate that he not stop, not ever. Desperate to be his.
His hands were all over her, seeking and finding the spots that inflamed her. She heard strange breathy noises erupting from her own lips as he traced the outline of her breasts through her dress. Then his hands were at her laces, tugging at them when he froze. He stopped kissing her, his lips poised just above hers. Isabel sensed his hesitation and cried out.
"Nay, do not!"
He lifted his head above her, his eyes blazing with love and desire for her.
"Do not what Isabel?"
"Do not stop."
He moaned and pressed against her again, his body fitting to hers as if they had been made for each other. Swiftly he unlaced her dress and before she knew it, her skin felt the cool air. He peeled down her chemise and the cool air was replaced with his hot mouth, kissing and laving her breasts.
Her dress seemed to disappear like magic over the next hour, as did Geoffrey's clothes until their bare flesh pressed against each others. The smooth hard lines of his body filled her with wonder as her fingers grasped the skin of his back. His shoulders were so broad they blocked everything from her view.
Everything but him.
Their legs intertwined as they tangled on the bed, rolling this way and that in an effort to get closer to each other. Then suddenly things changed. His fingers found the secret place between her legs and all thought ceased. He toyed with her endlessly, making her circle her hips against his wicked fingers.
Isabel's eyes flew open when she felt his tongue at her apex.
"What!"
"Hush- tis alright. I just want a taste..."
They both groaned as his mouth closed over her, his lips kissing, his tongue probing her honied depths. She gasped at the exquisite sensations he was causing, her hands in his hair, her hips rocking against him.
She flew off the bed as she climaxed, white light filling her being. Isabel seemed to float back toward the bed. Geoffrey held her in his arms until the trembling stopped.
His manhood pressed against her side, hot hard and insistent.
He moaned as she twisted in his arms to face him.
"Isabel... I can't wait any longer..."
She nodded and parted her thighs, welcoming him. He groaned as their bodies touched intimately, his blazing hot shaft pressing against her slick folds. She closed her eyes as he guided himself just inside her sex. For a moment they were both still, their breath commingling as her body adjusted to the strange feeling of fullness his manhood created.
Then he drove forward. A searing pain tore through her as he opened her, stretching her wide. His shaft felt enormous, as if he might split her in two. He kissed her face again and again as tears spilled over her cheeks.
"Nay sweeting, don't cry. Tis over. I will give you only pleasure now."
"I'm alright Geoffrey... don't stop. Please..."
Her body was aching now but in a different way. With a grunt, he started to move above her. His shaft slid in and out of her with greater ease. Her body convulsed, clamping down on him as another climax took her by surprise.
Everything about this night was surprising.
With tender urgency, Geoffrey took her, riding her to yet another release. And then he quickened, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Inside her, she felt him grow even larger and then she'd been filled with a hot, wet liquid.
His seed.
They held each other, both overwhelmed by what had passed between them. It wasn't long before they were kissing again. And then she'd felt his shaft, hard again, and pressing again her eagerly.
"Again?"
"Aye, sweeting. If you'll have me."
Shyly she nodded.
"Aye. I'll have you."
Nine
Geoffrey drove into Isabel again and again. Twas the third time they'd made love. He replayed it over and over in his mind in bright, vivid detail. His eyes were closed as he rode toward the castle, recalling every moment of their night together. He could still feel the force of his release, even though it was several days ago. He'd never experienced anything like it.
He could still feel her flesh against his, soft as the finest silk. Still see the soft glow in her eyes after he'd brought her to pleasure again and again. Still taste her lips and the sweet nectar from betwixt her legs.
They'd spent the night making love, only drifting off as dawn lit the sky. He'd snuck out and stolen a few moments of sleep in the stables with the other men. Only Richard had acknowledged his absence with a sly wink.
No one else dared.
They'd travelled swiftly those last few days, as they neared the King's Palace. Now they would be there within the hour. As the time to introduce Isabel to the King drew close, Geoffrey's anticipation grew.
He would tell the King of his intension to marry the Lady Isabel.
He would ask to be released from his duties.
He would live happily ever after in the countryside with his beauteous bride.
Perhaps a wedding could be arranged this very day! That would put her back in his bed by nightfall. Aye, twas entirely possible turn of events.
He was smiling as they entered the castle gates.
"Sir Geoffrey! The King eagerly awaits your return!"
He dismounted and assisted the Lady Isabel to the ground. He stared down into her face, seeing the fear there. He smiled reassuringly, sure that all would be well.
"Come my love and meet your King."
<><><><><>
Isabel walked forward, her hand clasped firmly in Sir Geoffrey's. He was walking rapidly, clearly eager to secure the King's approval for their wedding. She stifled a giddy laugh.
Twas a bit late for getting approval!
Even now, Sir Geoffrey's babe might be growing in her belly.
The thought filled her with a quiet pride and a joy that took her by surprise. Who would have thought that this would happen? The image of the Mother Superior's knowing smile sprang unbidden to her mind's eyes.
She had known! The wily old woman had this outcome in mind all along. Isabel could not help the secretive smile that crept across her face as they were shown into the King's chambers.
She curtsied immediately, but not before she got a good look at him.
King Philip was a tall, sharp faced man, not handsome but striking in appearance. He was strong and well built, with the nose of a hawk. His dark piercing eyes revealed little as he gazed upon them.
"Rise."
Sir Geoffrey's hand guided her to stand again and she smiled at him. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and stepped forward.
"My Liege, may I present the Lady Isabel Saint Claire. Formerly of the Sisterhood of the Southern Gate."
The King tilted his head to the side, staring at her as if she were a bug on the carpet.
"Formerly?"
"Aye. I have asked the Lady to become my wife."
The King stood and walked forward, looking her over.
"This is the Nun I asked you to bring me?"
Geoffrey glanced at her, uncertainty showing in his eyes.
"Yes my liege. But she has yet to take her vows."
King Philip's rage was palpable.
"You fool! I told you to bring me a Nun and you brought me a young girl with the face of an angel!"
"I'm sorry my liege-"
But King Philip was not listening to Sir Geoffrey. A heavy feeling of dread was settling in Isabel's innards. She wanted to set backwards, to run away but she forced her feet to stay in place.
"What will the people say when they see her burnt at the stake! I wanted an old woman to sacrifice- to warn the people against defying me as those damnable Nuns have done- the outcry will be palpable if the people see this young beauty tortured thus!"