Medieval 01 - Untamed

skin around one nipple. The contrast between hair and skin must have pleased her, for she returned to circle the nipple again. When it hardened into a tiny point, she lifted her hand, startled.
    â€œAgain,” he said huskily.
    â€œYou like it?”
    â€œThe only thing I would like more is your warm tongue.”
    The memory of how Dominic had caressed her own nipple went through Meg in a liquid wave of heat.
    â€œAye,” she whispered, eyes closed. “I remember.”
    Dominic pulled off the leather shirt. Beneath it was nothing but the warm skin, muscle, and springy hair she had been enjoying. Eyes still closed, she explored him with her fingers.
    â€œYou are…beautiful,” Meg whispered.
    â€œNay,” Dominic said, running his fingertip around her lips. “You are the beautiful one. I am scarred from head to heels.”
    Meg blinked and opened her eyes. For the first time she saw the scar running across Dominic’s chest and shoulder. Her breath came in with a low sound as she thought of the pain the wound must have caused him.
    Silently cursing himself for his stupidity in undressing beneath full sunlight, Dominic reached for the shirt he had so recently cast aside.
    Meg’s hand darted out, preventing Dominic from pulling the shirt over his head.
    â€œGive way, wife. I’m better seen in darkness than in light,” he said flatly.
    â€œNay,” she said. “You are a pleasure to my eyes.”
    â€œYou can barely bring yourself to look at me. Let me dress.”
    â€œIt was the pain.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYour pain cries out from the scar,” Meg said simply. “I wasn’t expecting that. I won’t be taken by surprise again. Let me see you, my warrior.”
    Let me heal you .
    Slowly Dominic’s fist opened, giving up the shirt. Meg put it aside and looked at her husband. After a taut, silent moment she began tracing the muscular lines of his body with caressing fingertips.
    â€œI have sensed your male power before,” Meg said after a time. “I have felt it when you lift me. I felt it differently just a few moments ago, when you were as warm and supple as a cat beneath my hands. But I have never seen your naked strength before now.”
    Dominic’s eyes narrowed against the violence of the passion surging through him at each delicate caress from his wife’s hands. Meg was looking at him with an admiration that was more than sensual and less than innocent.
    â€œYou are splendid, my warrior. Quite…magnificent.”
    Delicately Meg stroked the length of the scar with her fingertips. The caress dragged a low sound from Dominic, for there was nothing of horror in his wife’s voice or touch. He knew as clearly as he knew his own heartbeat that he was beautiful in her eyes.
    The realization stunned Dominic, for he also knew that only great emotion could overlook the ugly scarring that war had left upon his body.
    â€œThis is part of your power,” Meg whispered, tracing the scar once more. “I would take the pain from you if I could, but I would not take the mark of honorable battle. Never fear going naked beforeme, husband. I find you as handsome as you are strong.”
    A shudder ran the length of Dominic’s muscular body, pleasure and something even more powerful, a yearning of the spirit that ravished him as gently as sunlight.
    â€œYou are unraveling me,” Dominic said huskily.
    â€œThen I will have to knit you up again. But without the pain, my warrior. Without the pain…”
    As Meg bent to kiss Dominic, her hair fell like cool flames over his skin. He threaded his fingers through the silky mass and pulled her close for a deep, lingering kiss. When he finally released her, she was flushed with pleasure and her fingers were hungry on his chest.
    â€œYou are like tasting sunlight and warm rain at once,” Dominic said.
    â€œAnd you are like wine,” she whispered. “You make my senses spin.”
    â€œThen you should lie down.”
    With one hand Dominic gathered up the silk and fire of Meg’s hair. With the other he pulled her close as he turned over, taking her with him, kissing her until she clung to him as though to life itself. When he dragged his mouth from hers long enough to look at her, she was lying half beneath him, her eyes were languid, and her hair was a smoldering fan spread out over the midnight of his mantle.
    â€œAre you less dizzy