Medieval 03 - Enchanted

bathe in your fragrance.”
    The look in Simon’s eyes sent a ripple of
awareness chasing over Ariane. Nervousness came in its wake.
    “I feel you tugging at the reins,” she
whispered.
    “Do you trust me not to run away with
you?”
    Ariane’s breath caught. Then she sighed,
nodded her head, and began applying balm.
    “Thank you,” Simon said.
    “For the balm?”
    “For trusting me.” He smiled slightly.

“Although I appreciate the balm as well. No matter how
cleverly made, chain mail always chafes.”
    Tentatively, then with more assurance, Ariane
rubbedher hands and the balm over
Simon’s bare chest. Once she got past the unfamiliarity of
such intimacy, she discovered that touching him felt quite nice.
Intriguing, even.
    Pleasurable.
    As Ariane rubbed in more balm, she realized that
touching Simon was much more than merely pleasant. It made her
shiver with enjoyment.
    And a bit of apprehension, her nightmare seething
with warnings.
    “You are so warm,” Ariane
whispered.
    “When you touch me, I burn.”
    A single look at Simon’s heavy-lidded eyes
told Ariane that he was speaking the truth. Another odd shiver
worked through her body. Heedlessly her hands flexed, pressing her
nails against the muscular pads of flesh that made Simon’s
breasts so unlike her own.
    His breath hissed in.
    She jerked back her hands.
    “I’m sorry,” Ariane said quickly.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
    “Then do it again, nightingale.”
    “What?”
    “Test me with those sweet claws.”
    “It doesn’t hurt?”
    “Only when you stop.”
    Hesitantly Ariane’s hands settled on
Simon’s skin once more.
    “Go ahead,” he whispered against her
forehead. “Test me. And yourself.”
    Fingers flexed. Nails lightly scored skin.
    Simon’s breath quickened as a sensual shudder
raced through him, tightening his loins.
    “Are you certain you like it?” Ariane
asked doubtfully.
    “Aye. Someday, I will show you how much you
like it, too.”
    The huskiness of Simon’s voice intrigued
Ariane.
    “Someday?” she whispered.
    “When you no longer draw back in disgust when
I touch you.”
    “You don’t disgust me,” Ariane
said.
    “Only in my dreams,” he said beneath
his breath.
    “What?”
    “If I don’t disgust you,” Simon
challenged softly, “would you kiss me while you touch
me?”
    “How? Like this?”
    The warmth of Ariane’s mouth—and then
her tongue—against Simon’s shoulder drew a low oath
from him.
    Ariane straightened quickly.
    “Isn’t that what you wanted?” she
asked.
    “’Tis exactly what I wanted and more
than I expected,” he said huskily.
    “Oh. Would you like another?”
    “And another and another and—”
Simon reined in his hungry words. “Yes. Please. Another kiss
from your warm mouth.”
    With a sigh that sent her breath rushing over
Simon’s chest, Ariane bent her head and caressed him with her
mouth once more. While her hands stroked healing balm into his skin
and tangled sweetly in the thatch of hair that covered his chest,
her mouth explored him with a growing urgency she didn’t
question.
    The sleek texture of Simon’s skin stretching
over supple muscle intrigued Ariane’s tongue, as did the taut
line of tendon up Simon’s neck. She decided that his beard
was made for nuzzling and nibbling upon, as was the soft lobe of
his ear.
    Without understanding why, Ariane closed her teeth
on the rim of Simon’s ear and bit delicately.
    The sensual laughter that met her caress—and
the fact that Simon wasn’t forcing her in any way—made
Ariane more confident in her explorations. Soon she found herself
tracing Simon’s ear with the damp tip of her tongue,
following the curves down and in until she could go no farther.
    Ariane’s tongue probed repeatedly, her teeth
biting gently all the while. She enjoyed the shivers of sensation
that coursed through her own flesh while she explored Simon. As her
mouth caressed, her fingers returned to the tiny male nipples that
she had felt harden when she had first stroked the curly hair on
his chest. Sucking lightly on his neck, Ariane plucked and teased
his nipples.
    “Who taught you?” Simon groaned when he
could take no more.
    Reluctantly Ariane lifted her head from its warm
nuzzling of his neck.
    “Taught me what?” she murmured.
    “This.”
    Simon lifted Ariane’s hair aside. His teeth
and tongue caressed her ear until she shivered and sank her nails
heedlessly into his skin. Delicately his fingertips circled