Twenty-Four

 

The moment the bedchamber door closed behind him, Molina opened her mouth to share all her worries with Lubos, not least of all the strange man who'd stopped her spinning wheel, but Lubos pressed a finger to her lips.

"I must leave in the morning, to finish my quest for the king. The sooner I go, the sooner I may return and we can be married. I know you have much to tell me – I could tell you much about my travels, too – but neither is important right now. We have one night together, and I wish to spend it sharing as much love as possible, so that the memory will warm us both when we are far apart." He looked longingly into her eyes. "I will make love to you any way you wish, from now until dawn, and I swear the next night we spend together shall be our wedding night. My father has agreed, and so it shall be."

The very thought of him inside her once more kindled a fire within her brighter than she'd imagined possible. Why, it seemed her insides burned to feel him again. Lubos was right. She didn't want to waste these precious hours with words.

She hitched up her skirt, layers of silk and linen, until she was bare to the waist, but for her stockings. She hooked one leg around his hip, sliding her hand up under his tunic for his hard length. Her fingers tangled with his, intent on one purpose – uniting them. He thrust inside her, cupping her bottom as he lifted her, pushing deeper to her moaning satisfaction.

"Oh God, Molina," he said as he backed her up against the wall. "So long I've been dreaming of you like this."

She fastened her legs around his hips, holding his gaze as he filled her. "And I you. Make the first time hard and fast. If we have all night, we can take our time."

He chuckled. "Hard and fast you shall have, but I think you have forgotten something. My lady must come first." He pinned her to the wall, as full of him as she was with child. Without taking his eyes off hers, his thumb found precisely the right spot at the apex of her thighs, rubbing hard and fast until her vision dissolved into stars. Only then did he move again, maintaining the same rhythm until they cried out for joy together.

She was too busy gasping for breath to protest when he withdrew from her. But then he carried her to bed, and began to unlace her gown. He peeled away layers of fabric until he'd bared her breasts, which he covered with kisses. With her nipples already far too sensitive, thanks to her pregnancy, the moment he decided to suck on one was almost enough to send her over the edge, and she cried out.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked immediately, pulling away.

"No, of course not. Please, don't stop," she said.

He grinned and lowered his lips to her breast again. His hands dipped lower, bunching her skirts up until he'd bared her legs. Legs she parted willingly at a touch, for she knew the magic that dwelled in his fingers. Magic that soon made her cry out his name, over and over, until she was too hoarse to speak.

Only then did he finish undressing her, dragging her skirts down and throwing them to the floor, heedless of what happened to them. When she wore nothing but her silken stockings, he paused.

"Would you like me to take them off?" she asked, feeling incredibly self-conscious as his eyes devoured her otherwise naked body.

"No. They stay," he said, sitting on the bed beside her. "Now, come sit in my lap and help me take my clothes off."

He didn't wait for a response, lifting her easily so that she sat astride him, just like on their very first time together. And he was rock hard between her thighs, ready for her. She reached down, ready to guide him inside her, but Lubos caught her hands and lifted them to the buttons at the front of his tunic. "I'll take care of that. You see to my clothes."

Her hands shaking with anticipation, she worked at the fastenings on his tunic. Never had it taken her so long to free three buttons from their loops, and she almost cried when the third one finally came free. As if that was his cue, Lubos thrust into her partway, holding tight to her hips when she tried to squirm down the length of him to drive him deeper inside her. "My clothes," he reminded her.

Reluctantly, she pulled his tunic up over his head.

He slid in an inch deeper.

She took a deep breath, tugging his under tunic off, too.

He filled her completely and she let out a sigh of pleasure.

"Don't forget my hose," he said, grinning.

Molina glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, he wore thick woollen hose, the cloth scratchy beneath her bottom. Yes, they had to go. She managed to get them down past his knees by rising up onto her own knees, but in order to pull them off entirely she'd need to lean right back. One glance at his grin told her he had no intention of helping.

Wrapping her legs securely around his waist, she bent backward, arching her back up as she stretched her arms behind her to push his hose down his calves and off his feet.

"My God, you're beautiful, Molina." His finger stroked the nipple of one upthrust breast. A delicious sensation that made her cry out again. "Here, I'll help you up." One strong hand splayed across her back, while his other fastened around her hip, crushing her against him. But instead of lifting her up, he fell back on the mattress, pulling her with him until she sat astride him while he lay supine on the bed. "If I had a choice, I would spend every moment of the rest of my life like this with you. Hard and deep inside you, while you ride me to the peak of your own pleasure, with your breasts bouncing just like that." With his hands on her hips, he lifted and lowered her, thrusting up to meet her until she caught his rhythm, leaving his hands free to caress her breasts until she screamed.

But they didn't stop.

Not until dawn stole him from her, and she collapsed, empty and aching, in his lonely bed. For nothing was quite as heartbreaking as holding her husband to be and losing him, all in one night.