The Marriage Parley

CHAPTER SEVEN

Margaret forced herself to stay the course as Richard drew her closer.

Hubert had been an old man, his breath fetid. Fortunately, he had not kissed her much past their wedding vows.

But Richard could not be more different from Hubert. Here was a strong man, one young and virile. A physical man who would expect that part in their marriage.

Their agreement was struck, and she mostly believed him. Still, heirs were begot only one way and she would uphold her part.

Her heart beat faster as he drew her to stand between his spread thighs. In this position, their heads were even.

"You place your hands here." He lifted her hands to his shoulders. Then he put his on her hips and brought her even closer. "While I put my hands here."

Fearful as she was, it was absurd enough to wring a small laugh from her.

His pale blue eyes blazed with heat. "I want to kiss you, Maggie. I have wanted to kiss you since I first saw you."

He was waiting for her permission, showing her he would stand by his word.

"You may..." Awkwardness strangled her voice and she cleared her throat. "You may kiss me."

A smiled tilted a corner of his stern mouth. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Here?"

"Aye." His lips against her brow felt smooth and warm. She could break his light grip on her hips whenever she chose.

He moved to her cheek, his breath warm against her skin. "How about here?"

"That is fine." Being this close to him made her aware that he smelled of wood and leather and clean skin. Her belly tightened and she wanted more of what he offered.

"Where to now?" He nuzzled her cheek and slid his hands around her to bring her closer yet. His breath against her ear sent a bolt of heat streaking to her core. "Here?"

He sucked her earlobe into the warm, wet heat of his mouth. Continuing the onslaught, he moved down her neck, and across her jaw. Sucking kisses, which made her burn.

Margaret's knees buckled and she tightened her grip about his neck. Her breasts ached to press against the hardness of his chest. His hands lay on the dip of her back and she wanted them to own her flesh. As she had once seen a man in her village do to his sweetheart, she wanted Richard to palm her flesh in his big hands and drag her against him.

"Kiss me." She dared to fasten her hands in the silky hair at his nape and tug his face up. "On the mouth. Kiss me on the mouth."

"With pleasure." He growled and sealed his lips over hers. The kiss started light as he tested her lips before he teased them open.

Then came his tongue and she froze. This was what he had spoken of and it disconcerted her.

His tongue grew bolder, toying with hers, teasing her to join the dance.

Her awkwardness vanished under the tumult of sensation their kiss set off. It built until she wanted more from him.

All he had.

He stroked her buttocks and pressed her against his cock. Hard and full, it rubbed against her woman's place. This was nothing like Hubert. She hadn't thrilled at the feel of Hubert or wanted him to lift her skirts and gain access to where she wanted him most.

She ached for Richard. Like a wanton, she rubbed against him. Her breasts against his chest, her core against his rod.

He broke their kiss with a groan. "Maggie."

"Nay." She pressed her mouth against his. This time, her tongue breached the gap of his lips and plunged into his mouth.

"Jesu." He gripped her thigh, lifting it over his. His hand cupped her breast and squeezed.

Arching her back, Margaret pushed deeper into his caress. A woman widowed and this was the first time she had experienced the like.

The power of her own need nearly terrified her.

Richard gripped her hips and thrust her away from him.

He panted through his lips, color rode his cheeks, and his gaze ate at her as if ravenous. "If we do not stop now..."

She didn't want to stop, and then the voices outside the tent reached her. "They come to demand answers."

Richard pressed a quick kiss to her mouth and then put her from him. "It is a good thing, then, that we have them."