“During the second hour, they would only kiss, but then there are many kinds of kisses, as you undoubtedly know. Involving all parts of the body.”
Eadyth gasped with indignation and stood as if to leave his abominable presence. “You… you—”
He pushed her back in her chair and continued, “By then, of course, she would have already had one of her… uh, peaks, and then—”
“Peaks?” Eadyth sputtered.
Now Eirik was at a loss for words. His naive wife, even though she had lain with a man and birthed a child, did not know what it meant for a woman to climb the mountain of sexual arousal and explode with erotic pleasure. He searched carefully for the right words before saying, “You are no doubt aware that a man becomes mindless with pleasure during the bed sport when the coupling comes to a, well, a peak. The same can be true for a woman.”
“Mindless! And that is a pleasure to be sought? I do not think so.”
Eirik grinned, rushing to finish before she throttled him, or something worse. “During the third hour, they caress each other’s bodies, learning all the secret places that heighten sensations. The woman would, of course, peak another time. Or two.” Are you listening, Eadyth? Or just trying to catch flies with your open mouth. God’s Breath, I can think of a better occupation for those luscious lips.
She finally regained her senses and snorted with disbelief. But she did not rise from her chair. Apparently, his story had caught her interest.
“During the fourth hour,” he went on blithely, “she must lie perfectly still while the man explores her breasts and the womanly folds between her legs.”
“Oh, you are a horrid, horrid man,” Eadyth cried, her face flaming bright red. “How could you say such perverted things to me, a lady?”
“Not a lady. My wife,” he corrected, “and ’tis not perverted, what goes on atween a husband and wife. Nay, do not leave ’til I have finished.”
She stood, glaring down her condescending nose at him. Well, he would finally bring her haughty chin down a notch or two. “During the fifth hour, the man would finally bury himself in her welcoming sheath, and she would no doubt peak and shudder into mindlessness another few times.”
Eadyth was scowling mightily, obviously no longer believing his tale. At that moment, her face had turned so purple with rage and crinkled with frown lines that he could almost believe she was as old and ugly as she pretended.
“And just how many times would the man be ‘shuddering’ and ‘peaking’ during all this excessive bed play?”
“Oh, ten or twelve times,” he lied with a straight face.
Her eyes widened in surprise. Eirik was amazed that his usually bright wife did not recognize the absurdity of his exaggeration. Best you be careful, man, he chided himself, or she will expect more of you than you can deliver.
Eadyth was staring at him, open-mouthed with astonishment.
“So now you know the story of the caliph and the five-petaled lotus,” he concluded with a flourish.
Forcing her composure back to its usual iron self-control, Eadyth mumbled something about loathsome louts as she picked up the soiled garments again and sailed indignantly toward the door.
“So will you make me a five-hour candle?” he called out to her rigid back.
“When hell freezes over and angels wear ice skates,” she replied frostily, never bothering to turn. She slammed the door loudly behind her.
Well, at least he had forestalled her confession. For the time being. But he knew he could not put her off forever.
So what could he do next to prevent her from telling all her secrets before Sigurd returned? And, of course, prickle her infuriating, so-sure-of-herself pride, at the same time?
Eirik smiled at a particularly delicious idea.
Chapter Twelve
Eirik was driving her mad.
“I have to talk to you,” Eadyth insisted as she crawled into his bed that night. She desperately wanted to confess her foolish masquerade. In fact, hour by hour, she was becoming increasingly fearful of her fate if she did not.
But concentration came hard when her husband’s nude body lay only a hairsbreadth from hers, and he showed absolutely no interest in consummating their wedding vows. If he yawned, open-mouthed and loudly, one more time, she might just shove their marriage agreement down his throat.