Medieval 01 - Untamed

wounds?”
    â€œYou look quite wonderfully healthy,” Meg said. “But I will stroke you anywhere you please.”
    The change in his wife’s voice from tight to husky both surprised and disarmed Dominic. He looked at Meg in time to see the sensual appraisal in her smile as his loins vanished into the bath. With hungry eyes he watched her remove her mantle and outer tunic, scoop up a handful of her own soap, and walk to the bath.
    The water was hot and smelled like Meg’s herbal. The soap was soft and smelled like Meg herself. The aches and bruises Dominic had gathered from battle dissolved, but not the hunger that held his body in a sensuous vise, nor the stark arousal that pulsed more heavily with each motion of Meg’s hands as she bent over him.
    In a low voice Meg sang the Glendruid chant of renewal while she bathed Dominic, washing away the mistakes and pains of the day, coaxing hope to come and live within her warrior’s powerful body. When Dominic could bear no more of the tender torment, he took one of Meg’s hands and dragged it down his chest to the part of him that ached more than any bruise could.
    At the first touch of Meg’s fingers on his aroused flesh, Dominic groaned. When her hand curled eagerly around and stroked from base to tip, he thought he would burst like a wineskin overfilled.
    â€œ Meg …”
    The word sounded as though it had been torn from Dominic unwillingly.
    â€œYes, husband?” she murmured.
    â€œSimon tells me I’m beastly after a battle.”
    â€œSimon is correct.”
    Meg pulled her nails delicately over Dominic’s eager flesh, drawing another groan from him.
    â€œBut now that I know how to pull the thorn from my beast’s paw,” she added, “I will be more understanding.”
    â€œThat is not a thorn.”
    Soft, feminine laughter agreed with Dominic.
    â€œAye,” she whispered, stroking him. “’Tis a very fine, very magical sword.”
    â€œMagic?” Dominic’s breath hissed in as pleasure lanced through his whole body. “How so?”
    â€œThough your sword is hard indeed, it is hot rather than cold, it brings pleasure rather than pain, joy rather than sorrow…life rather than death. That is a very great magic.”
    With a throttled groan, Dominic tilted his head back against the rim of the bath and fought for control.
    â€œI have never before been a jealous man,” he said, “but the thought of you touching Duncan like this makes me want to kill him out of hand.”
    As Dominic spoke, his fingers went beneath the hem of Meg’s inner tunic. He heard the sudden intake of her breath when he caressed her ankle. Smiling, he stroked his long fingers up the curves of one leg and down again.
    â€œFor a knight who is renowned for his logic and tactics,” Meg said breathlessly, “your jealousy makes little sense.”
    Dominic’s eyes narrowed into glittering gray slits as his palm stroked up the length of Meg’s leg again. But this time he didn’t stop at her thigh. His fingers sought the frail layer of cloth that lay between him and her sensual heat. He pulled once, sharply, and the barrier tore. An instant later his fingers were tangled in the warm thatch between her thighs. The shivering sound she made pleased him as much as the liquid fire his touch drew from her softness.
    â€œWhy shouldn’t I be jealous of this?” Dominic asked. “A man would kill for such sweet fire.”
    Meg gently squeezed Dominic’s masculine flesh as she asked huskily, “Do you think me too slack-witted to know the difference between paradise and a childhood friend?”
    â€œWhen you hold me thus, I can’t think at all.”
    Smiling, Meg stroked from blunt tip to base and beyond, cradling the twin spheres wherein his seed strained to be released.
    â€œIn your arms I taste paradise,” she whispered. “Duncan is my friend, Dominic. I have never touched him thus. I never would. It is only your sword that pleasures me.”
    â€œGod,” Dominic groaned. “You are killing me.”
    Meg gave him a startled look, then understood he was speaking of sweet torment rather than true agony.
    â€œYou’ll have me full to bursting all over again,” he said thickly.
    â€œIs that so terrible a thing?”
    â€œNay.”
    Dominic’s burning gaze went from Meg’s mouth to her breasts, to the