Eirik held her face above his in the cradle of his two palms. “Eadyth, do not make promises you cannot keep.”
Eadyth could see the pain in his wonderful blue eyes, pain she had caused with her dishonesty, no matter how well-intentioned. “I want to try,” she said.
He nodded in acceptance of her pledge. ” ‘Tis good enough for now.” He pulled her head down to his then and kissed her with all the pent-up passion of the past sennight of their separation. When he finally tore his mouth from hers, panting for breath, he told her in a thick voice full of emotion, “I have missed you, dearling, more than you can ever know.”
“I never want to lose you, Eirik. You must help me, though. I have a tendency to try to take over and manage things, just as you have complained ofttimes. And… why are you grinning?”
“Because there have been a few times when your ‘managing’ has not been too difficult to abide.”
Her eyes widened as she remembered the scandalous way in which she had “managed” a seduction of her husband one night. And she marveled at the changes this man had wrought in her cold life and disposition. Good changes, she decided.
Eirik’s fingers were busy meanwhile with some managing of their own. He undid her belt and lifted her tunic and chemise over her head, stopping here and there to kiss a shoulder, to nip a breast, to touch the tip of his tongue to her mole.
When she was naked, he stood her before him and removed his own clothing, holding her eyes the entire time. “Can you see me in this dim light?” she asked tentatively, knowing how sensitive he was about his eyesight.
He chuckled softly. “Well enough to see the rapid rise and fall of your breasts. Well enough to see your nipples peak with their own sweet ache. Well enough to see your lips parting in anticipation of my kisses. Well enough to see the dew of—”
She stepped forward and put her fingertips over his lips, stopping his next words. Then she tried to loop her arms around his neck, but he put her away from him with a gentle kiss. “Not so fast. I want to open my wedding gift from Tykir first.”
“Wedding gift? Oh!” she said, blushing hotly when she recognized the purchase Tykir had made for her in the market yesterday. “He told me it was a gift for me.”
Eirik took the silken harem garment out of its wrapping and handed it to Eadyth. It was really only a series of transparent scarves draped together with tiny bells along the edges. “Will you dance for me, Eadyth?” he asked in a suddenly raw voice.
Shyly, Eadyth donned the flimsy costume for her husband, wanting to cover herself with her hands, but stopping herself from doing so when she saw the look of pleasure in Eirik’s eyes as they swept over her.
“I cannot dance. I never learned how,” she confessed. “But I could sit on your lap while you tell me one of your caliph stories.”
Eirik thought that was a splendid idea.
But they only got through the beginning of his story before the floor was littered with silken scarves. When he was buried in her woman folds, she held him close, forestalling the onslaught of spiraling passion which would overtake them soon. She cherished this oneness with her husband, this moment out of time, where only he and she—man and woman, husband and wife—existed.
Eirik seemed to cherish the special moment as well. Bracing himself on his straightened arms, he looked down at her adoringly and declared on a heartfelt whisper, “I love you, Eadyth.”
“I love you, too, Eirik. Nay, do not move yet… oh!” She put her hands on both his buttocks to hold him in place, but closed her eyes for a moment until the spasms of sweet pleasure at their joining place stopped. With a sigh, she then took one of his hands in hers and laid it on her stomach. In an emotion-choked voice she told him, “With all the wedding gifts you and Tykir have given me, I have not yet given you any. Here ’tis, and I hope you will cherish it as much as I value all those you have given me.”