“I had thought the same, and if the Witan is in session I will put the formal petition afore them. But I suggest you start referring to John as our son if you want people to believe the tale.”
Eadyth thought of telling him that the noble ladies belowstairs, did not believe his claim of paternity one whit, but decided he had enough to worry about now.
Eirik moved to the bed and picked up his akerton, the padded undertunic which would protect him from the chafing of the metal coils of his armor. She moved closer and offered, “Can I help you?”
Eirik looked at her thoughtfully, holding the garment in midair, as if he had just realized something.
“The marriage has not been consummated, Eadyth, and those who feast below must know that. It could be a danger.”
Eadyth could not stop the flush of embarrassment that heated her neck and moved up her face.
Eirik laid his tunic back on the bed and moved closer. “We could do it quickly now.”
“What?” Eadyth cried in a voice shrill with alarm. She needed time to prepare herself for that ordeal.
Eirik laid a hand on her arm and pulled her forcefully into his embrace. Eadyth twisted futilely, trying to escape his iron clasp and his close scrutiny. It was dark in this section of the room, but she could take no chances.
“Nay, I wouldst wait, my lord, ’til we have more time. The danger is not truly so great, in my opinion. I have been in your room alone for so long now that some, no doubt, believe the deed is already done.”
Eirik regarded her with amusement before putting a palm to her chin, holding her face in place. His other arm wrapped around her waist. With a jerk, he pulled her forward into the cradle of his outspread thighs, and Eadyth inhaled sharply at the first touch of his manhood against the apex of her womanhood, at the caress of his bare chest against the thin silk fabric over her breasts.
Eirik chuckled softly and took advantage of her gasp of surprise, lowering his mouth to hers, using the tip of his tongue to do that intimate thing to which he had alluded earlier. First, he brushed the wet tip against her mole, than traced the edges of her parted lips with deliberate, lazy languor, sighing with seemingly exquisite pleasure.
Eadyth forgot to hunch her shoulders. She forgot to flinch at his touch. She forgot to scowl. She forgot to protest in a shrewish, cronelike voice.
In truth, Eadyth forgot everything except the sweet, sweet sensation of warm, firm lips moving over hers, shaping her lips to his satisfaction. When his mouth finally closed over hers in a mind-consuming kiss, Eadyth could not stop herself from arching against him. He sucked the very breath from her, but Eadyth could not care. She parted her lips wider, wanting more. Eirik groaned against her lips, then tested the new territory of her mouth with his tongue. Eadyth welcomed his entrance, unfamiliar with such tongue kissing, but liking it ever so much.
When Eirik’s tongue plunged deep, then withdrew slowly, then entered once again, Eadyth’s knees buckled, and Eirik released his hand from her chin, using both hands to hold her upright. He smiled against her lips, then pushed her back slightly. With his forehead pressed to hers, he waited for several long moments, eyes closed, breathing raspily. When he finally seemed to have calmed down, he moved away from her with a soft laugh, but not before brushing his fingertips across her cheek in a regretful caress.
“Ah, wife, I think we may be more suited than either of us ever thought.”
The only sound in the room was the sputtering of a torch, which finally went out for lack of oil, throwing the room into even more shadows.
“You are right, Eadyth,” Eirik continued in a low voice, ’tis not the time for a hasty coupling. Be forewarned, though—on my return I intend to resume that kiss where we left off.”
Now that Eadyth’s roiling passions had settled slightly, she felt vulnerable, standing alone in the middle of the room, facing Eirik’s back. He stood near a small table, pouring a goblet of ale, which he downed in one long gulp before turning back to her. His eyes still blazed with passion, and the hard ridge between his thighs bespoke a raging arousal.