Then all thoughts were wiped away as her rhythm picked up speed and her motions became more forceful. She ground her pelvis into mine, and I could feel the friction she was building against her sensitive bud. I loved watching her command her pleasure, controlling it, building it. My cock throbbed in response, and I began thrusting upward in time with her downward motions.
"Oh!" she cried out with every thrust, and leaned forward to cover my body with her own. I held on to her round, soft ass and pumped her up and down as I moved more rapidly in and out of her. She moaned and panted into my mouth as our tongues dueled and my motions became frenzied, my release so close.
"Yes! Yes!" she shouted, arching her back as her own climax rushed over her. The tightening of her sheath threw me over the edge as well, and I pumped my seed into her and trembled from the force.
She smiled down at me, eyes half closed in blissful satisfaction. "Good morning, my King," she said in a throaty, sensual voice. I laughed softly as she climbed off me and lay down beside me.
It was just in time she did, for as soon as she pulled a gown around her shoulders the door to our chamber opened ever so slightly. We both knew who it was, and waited for what we knew was to come.
"Mummy!" we heard, and our three-year-old daughter Vanessa ran into the room. She was a ball of energy, always preferring to run rather than walk. She rushed to the bed and held her arms up to be lifted. Anabelle leaned down and pulled her onto the bed, and she giggled when I tickled her.
"Good morning, daddy!" Vanessa giggled, and kissed my unshaven cheek. She was the light of my life, to be sure, and a joy to all who knew her. Her red curls, so like her mother's, were all higgledy-piggledy and she was still clad in just in her nightgown.
"Did you just awaken?" Anabelle asked her, and went to her dressing table to fetch a brush for our daughter's hair. Vanessa smiled and nodded.
"Mummy, will I wear my new gown today?" she asked, for what seemed like the thousandth time. Ever since she had been fitted for a little gown to wear during Morgan's marriage ceremony, she had counted down the days until she got to wear it. Today was that day.
"Yes, love, today is the day your uncle is to be wed. And you will be the most beautiful princess at the ceremony," Anabelle said as she brushed Vanessa's hair.
"Even more beautiful than Auntie Cliona?" she asked. Cliona was Anabelle's sister, she who was to be wedded to my brother; she was famed throughout the kingdoms for her great dark beauty. But to me, none were more beautiful than the two ladies currently in my bed, and I told my daughter this.
The door to the chamber opened wider, and I saw a pair of green eyes peering into the room. Anabelle heard the door as well, and she and I exchanged a knowing smile.
"It is a sorrow that Kellen is not here with us," Anabelle lamented, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "For I was going to tell him that he could spend a short time at the feast tonight."
"I can?" we heard, and Kellen barreled into the room and jumped onto the bed. We both laughed.
"Yes," Anabelle told him, "but you must remain seated at my left hand, and only for one half hour. You'll take your meal with us instead of in your chambers with your nurse. But then you must leave when I say – no questions. Can you promise you will behave?"
Kellen's eyes grew round. "I promise, Mother. I promise, Father," he said, solemn. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at his very serious expression. At nearly five years old, he was every bit as willful and headstrong as his father; however, he also possessed a sweet nature reminiscent of his mother. He wanted to please us. He just sometimes forgot. I tousled his blond curls affectionately.
Vanessa, meanwhile, was every inch her mother's daughter. She was lively and vibrant and endearing, but had a streak of temper in her that could make a grown man's blood run cold. Her tantrums were legendary throughout the castle. I knew that she would make a fierce Queen one day … if, of course, the man worthy of her hand was ever born. I highly doubted that this would ever come to pass, naturally.
The children's nurses came in then, to fetch them for their meal and their bath in preparation for today's ceremonies. I started to rise for my own preparations when the door was closed, but Anabelle took my hand and pulled me back.
"My love … " I whispered, and nuzzled her neck. "I wish we had the time to indulge a little more, but I fear we will be late if I give in to your charms."
She laughed – that tinkling, enchanting laugh I had first fallen in love with. "No, my love, that is not what was on my mind … though you're quite tempting." She pulled away and looked me in the eye.
"I wanted to tell you something," she whispered, and I knew from the shy, joyful look on her face what the news was. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I am with child," she confirmed. I took her in my arms and laughed joyously. Another child. Gods be thanked.
Later that day, we witnessed the joining of Scotland and Ireland for a second time as Morgan and Cliona were wed. I laughed to myself as I watched Morgan fidget just as I had the day of my own union . And just as I know mine did, my brother's face lit up when he saw his bride approach.
It was a rare occasion that I had the chance to get the upper hand on my brother, and I pounced on the opportunity when he announced that he wanted to wait for Cliona's sixteenth birthday before they were wed. She had been promised to him five years earlier and could have been his wife within the year, but he decided to wait as I had.
"I thought you didn't care for going against tradition," I teased him at the time.
He had blushed, then spoke more honestly to me than he ever had. "I want what you and Anabelle had together in those early days. She brought you much joy, and pleasure, and was a mate for you from the first day of your marriage. I would rather wait for my mate to be woman enough to live up to being the wife of a dragon than wait for her to mature after our union has been made."
As always, he managed to seem wise even when he was going against his own long-held opinion.
From appearances, Cliona had indeed been worth waiting for. She had all of her sister's pure, radiant beauty; the fair skin, delicate features and green eyes were much the same. They were also quite similar in height and figure. But while Anabelle's hair was a rich, deep red, Cliona's was a dark mahogany. Some said she surpassed her older sister in beauty, but of course I begged to differ. Still, there was no denying that the radiant happiness on her face made her appear even more exceptionally beautiful than ever.
Angus led her to her groom just as he had Anabelle. The leader of Clan Flannery was in fine, robust health and looked especially hale and hearty on this day; I suspected that a bit of early toasting with his men may have added to the ruddy color in his cheeks, however. His wife was just as fair and lovely as ever, albeit over five years older than she'd been at the first wedding. She and Rhiannon had enjoyed themselves immensely throughout the month of preparations; even more so, I was sure, since there was not the threat of dark magic hanging over the occasion.
No one had heard anything of Arthur in the years since our battle. I couldn't help remembering from time to time Rhiannon's certainty that he still existed, still roamed somewhere. Biding his time until his powers could be regenerated.
At the time, Gaeth had expressed doubts; however, he did agree with my mother that such deep, ancient hatred was not easily destroyed. I begged to differ at the use of the word "easily" – after all, I had nearly perished as a result.
Had it not been for Gaeth's wisdom, of course, I would have perished; and, had Arthur's full plan come to fruition, so would my brother, wife and unborn child have come to their end. I thanked him profusely as soon as I first saw him during the days of my recuperation. I also named him to my council, along with Syeira; I knew that as a gypsy, Syeira and her people would be loathe to stay in one place for an extended period of time, so she and I agreed that we would write to each other regularly in order to keep her abreast of affairs of the kingdom. Of course we both knew the real meaning behind our words. She would keep her senses open to the presence of Arthur, and I would be sure to alert her to any happenings within the kingdom.
Now that we knew the full story of Arthur's centuries of deception, we felt ourselves better prepared. Gaeth spent many weeks following the battle summoning up the spells that would make it possible for no visitor to the kingdom to deceive us as Arthur had been able to. The protection spells and other magic he cast immediately alerted us to the presence of any additional magic in the kingdom. I hoped that it would be enough.