Medieval 01 - Untamed

her.
    â€œAye,” she whispered.
    Dominic’s long fingers slid deeply into Meg’s hair as he drew closer for a kiss.
    â€œDid I?” Meg asked against his lips.
    â€œDid you what?”
    â€œPlease you.”
    â€œAye.” He kissed her. “And aye.” He kissed her again. “And aye once more.”
    â€œAre you certain? Marie says men get little pleasure of a virgin.”
    â€œHammer Marie,” Dominic said, biting Meg’s lower lip with exquisite care. “She knows little about virginity and less about men.”
    Meg looked uncertainly at Dominic, wondering if he were joking.
    â€œI beg to differ, my husband. Marie knows a great deal about men.”
    â€œShe knows a great deal about spreading her thighs,” Dominic said bluntly. “It’s not the same thing. But if you don’t believe me, give me your hand.”
    Meg blinked. “Which one?”
    â€œEither will do nicely.”
    She held up her right hand. Dominic took it, guided it beneath his mantle, and pressed her palm against his rigid arousal. He smiled at the startled sound she made, and then he groaned as he urged her hand even closer. Slowly he guided her hand up the hard ridge of flesh. Even blunted by layers of cloth, the sensation was enough to make his blood pound like thunder through his body.
    â€œMen can lie about many things,” Dominic said huskily, “but not this. A man’s body can’t lie about desire.”
    The clear skin of Meg’s face revealed the blush that claimed her, but she didn’t pull her hand from beneath Dominic’s.
    â€œYou pleased me in the forest,” he said deeply. “Just remembering what it was like to press into you is enough to make me harden. You were sleek and tight and untouched, yet you wept your passion for me. You were magic. A virgin spring that welled up at my touch.”
    With a stifled groan Dominic dragged Meg’s fingers from beneath his mantle and kissed them a bit fiercely.
    â€œWill you let me undress you?” he asked.
    â€œOf course,” Meg said, turning around so that he could reach the laces of her dress. “It is your right as my hus—”
    â€œNay.” Dominic’s voice was sharp. “You are Glendruid. I have no rights but those you give me.”
    Sadness ached in Meg’s throat. “So that is why you are so careful of me. The Glendruid curse.”
    His fingers paused on the laces of her emerald dress.
    â€œI would woo you with great care in any case,” Dominic said.
    â€œWould you? Ah, yes, of course. Men get no heirs of wives who have no pleasure in the marriage bed.”
    Dominic hesitated, shrugged, and said, “I don’t believe that superstition.”
    Laces slipped from eyelets with a hushed, whispering sound.
    â€œYou think a woman who has no pleasure of her partner can conceive?” Meg asked.
    â€œI know she can.”
    Meg turned and looked over her shoulder at Dominic. “How so? Did you once force a maid and get her with child?”
    â€œIs that what you think of me?” Dominic asked levelly.
    With a sigh, Meg turned away. “No, my lord. For all your warrior nature, you take no pleasure in another’s pain.”
    There was silence but for the whisper of laces coming undone. After a few moments Dominic spoke in a low voice.
    â€œOnce a knight of mine found a young Saracen girl alone. She was a virgin. He left her so torn and bleeding from his brutal rutting that we barely saved her life. I know for certain she had no pleasure of him, yet she quickened with his seed.”
    â€œDear God. ’Tis little fair in that.”
    â€œâ€™Tis little fair in being born a bastard,” Dominic said. “But my brother and I were both born such.”
    â€œAs was Duncan of Maxwell.”
    A lace whipped through its eyelet.
    â€œDo you have a penchant for bastards, my lady?” Dominic asked tightly.
    Meg made an odd sound. “I? Nay. Rather I would say that bastards have a penchant for Blackthorne Keep!”
    Dominic’s hands stilled as he fought for control of the anger and despair that claimed him whenever his wife spoke of the terms of their marriage.
    â€œI cannot change how we were married, or why, or what I seek in the way of heirs,” Dominic said when he trusted his voice again. “Nor would I if I could. What about you, my reluctant wife? Would you want a marriage that