marriage.
Jory became so frenzied she began to bite him. It turned the
42
tide instandy for both of them. One minute she was drowning in need, the next she was soaring on the crest of a wave of pleasure, her body dissolving in liquid tremors, sheathing his scalding, marble-hard manroot as it burst, spurting his male essence up inside her like molten sparks of fire.
When they were both fully spent, he rolled on his back and took her with him. Jory's eyes gazed down into his, devouring him. The cataclysmic mating had shaken her, changed her. She had always known she was sensual and feminine. Now she realized sensuality paled beside what she experienced with this man. He could do anything to her and she would welcome it, crave it. Her heart soared with her newfound knowledge. He was the magnificent Robert Bruce and she was a perfect match for him!
His eyes traveled up her body as if he owned it, then came to rest on her heart-shaped face. His nostrils flared at the mingled scent of their bodies. She was so fragile, ethereal almost, he marveled that he had not shattered her. He had wanted her beneath him since he'd seen her at Newcasde. Nay, he'd wanted her sheathing his cock five years ago when she was seventeen. "I'm sorry, lass."
Jory's eyes clouded momentarily, then a smile lit up her face. "You lying bastard!"
He laughed then. "Nay, I'm not sorry, I am triumphant."
She touched her lips to his heart, licking the sweat glistening there.
He lifted her off his body and laid her on her back beside him. Then he came up on his knees, straddling her, his eyes smoldering as his fingers began to explore the prize he had taken.
"Robert, not again!" she gasped.
"Jory, we only fucked. Now I'm going to make love to you."
She felt as if her very bones would melt.
The lovers looked like complete opposites, one so strong, the other fragile; one so big, the other petite; one dark and swarthy, the other so unearthly fair. But under the skin they were perfecdy matched, not only sexually, but temperamentally.
43
The Bruce's lovemaking was slow, unhurried, and completely thorough, but the moment their appetites were slaked and they were both satisfied, he was off the bed and dressing.
"Carry me off to Carlisle," she whispered.
"Don't tempt me."
"Temptation is in my blood." For the space of a heartbeat, she thought he would take her, then the truth of the situation dawned on her. "You won't be staying at Carlisle, will you, Robert?" she asked wistfully.
He scooped her from the bed and enfolded her against him with massive arms. "Soon I go to topple a king from his throne and to take back my castles, then Annandale."
Robert Bruce's resolve and ambition were so powerful Jory almost felt awed by them. "And then take Scotland?" she asked breathlessly.
He searched her face with his dark brilliant eyes. "You've seen inside my heart and read its secrets." He kissed her swiftly, then spun her about and slapped her bottom. "I'm a bloody fool to let a woman come that close. Hurry and dress."
******************
A week later, Jory knew she could stay indoors no longer. The hills and dales were dotted with
lambs, an early spring had brought everything into bloom, and the game was plentiful. She decided to go riding, mayhap even organize a hunt. She picked up her skirts and went to seek Alicia, thinking she must be just as ready for diversion as Jory herself was.
Alicia had chosen beautiful rooms in the front wing overlooking the Cumbrian Mountains. The magnificent Skiddaw, whose peak disappeared into the clouds, seemed close enough to touch from her chamber windows. Marjory tapped lightly on her door and waited. When no one answered her knock, she assumed Alicia must be downstairs. Then she heard a low moan.
Jory moved closer to the door and called Alicia's name softly. Again, she heard a moan of distress and immediately
M
turned the knob. There were times when Jory found Alicia Bolton extremely tiresome, but she was filled with concern
Jory became so frenzied she began to bite him. It turned the
42
tide instandy for both of them. One minute she was drowning in need, the next she was soaring on the crest of a wave of pleasure, her body dissolving in liquid tremors, sheathing his scalding, marble-hard manroot as it burst, spurting his male essence up inside her like molten sparks of fire.
When they were both fully spent, he rolled on his back and took her with him. Jory's eyes gazed down into his, devouring him. The cataclysmic mating had shaken her, changed her. She had always known she was sensual and feminine. Now she realized sensuality paled beside what she experienced with this man. He could do anything to her and she would welcome it, crave it. Her heart soared with her newfound knowledge. He was the magnificent Robert Bruce and she was a perfect match for him!
His eyes traveled up her body as if he owned it, then came to rest on her heart-shaped face. His nostrils flared at the mingled scent of their bodies. She was so fragile, ethereal almost, he marveled that he had not shattered her. He had wanted her beneath him since he'd seen her at Newcasde. Nay, he'd wanted her sheathing his cock five years ago when she was seventeen. "I'm sorry, lass."
Jory's eyes clouded momentarily, then a smile lit up her face. "You lying bastard!"
He laughed then. "Nay, I'm not sorry, I am triumphant."
She touched her lips to his heart, licking the sweat glistening there.
He lifted her off his body and laid her on her back beside him. Then he came up on his knees, straddling her, his eyes smoldering as his fingers began to explore the prize he had taken.
"Robert, not again!" she gasped.
"Jory, we only fucked. Now I'm going to make love to you."
She felt as if her very bones would melt.
The lovers looked like complete opposites, one so strong, the other fragile; one so big, the other petite; one dark and swarthy, the other so unearthly fair. But under the skin they were perfecdy matched, not only sexually, but temperamentally.
43
The Bruce's lovemaking was slow, unhurried, and completely thorough, but the moment their appetites were slaked and they were both satisfied, he was off the bed and dressing.
"Carry me off to Carlisle," she whispered.
"Don't tempt me."
"Temptation is in my blood." For the space of a heartbeat, she thought he would take her, then the truth of the situation dawned on her. "You won't be staying at Carlisle, will you, Robert?" she asked wistfully.
He scooped her from the bed and enfolded her against him with massive arms. "Soon I go to topple a king from his throne and to take back my castles, then Annandale."
Robert Bruce's resolve and ambition were so powerful Jory almost felt awed by them. "And then take Scotland?" she asked breathlessly.
He searched her face with his dark brilliant eyes. "You've seen inside my heart and read its secrets." He kissed her swiftly, then spun her about and slapped her bottom. "I'm a bloody fool to let a woman come that close. Hurry and dress."
******************
A week later, Jory knew she could stay indoors no longer. The hills and dales were dotted with
lambs, an early spring had brought everything into bloom, and the game was plentiful. She decided to go riding, mayhap even organize a hunt. She picked up her skirts and went to seek Alicia, thinking she must be just as ready for diversion as Jory herself was.
Alicia had chosen beautiful rooms in the front wing overlooking the Cumbrian Mountains. The magnificent Skiddaw, whose peak disappeared into the clouds, seemed close enough to touch from her chamber windows. Marjory tapped lightly on her door and waited. When no one answered her knock, she assumed Alicia must be downstairs. Then she heard a low moan.
Jory moved closer to the door and called Alicia's name softly. Again, she heard a moan of distress and immediately
M
turned the knob. There were times when Jory found Alicia Bolton extremely tiresome, but she was filled with concern
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