Chapter Nine

“Who are you looking for?”

Nicola gasped as the voice came from behind her. She’d been peering from the doors where Caledonia and Thor had disappeared, trying to catch a glimpse of them, and someone had snuck up behind her. Whirling around, she came face to face with Darius de Winter.

“It’s you,” she said, hand on her chest to ease her pounding heart. “I was looking for Thor.”

Darius threw a thumb in the general direction of the gatehouse and apartments. “I am certain he is gone by now,” he said. “If I had a new wife, I would not spend my time in a hall talking to other men. I would be with her. Always with her.”

The mood rapidly turned into something warm and wistful. Painful, even. Nicola’s gaze drifted over the big, handsome knight, a man she’d been in love with for the past two years, if not longer. She’d only been sixteen when she fell for the brawny, dark de Winter son, a man who served her brother, but she hadn’t hinted to her mother about him until about a year ago, mostly because she knew that her parents would say she would have to wait because her older sister, Diara, wasn’t betrothed yet. Happily, Diara was now betrothed to a d’Avignon son, a marriage that was to take place in the autumn when the leaves turned colors.

That left the path open for Nicola now.

“I know you would,” she whispered. “I’ve not spoken to you in two days. I’ve missed you.”

“And I’ve missed you,” Darius said in that sweet, low voice. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Nicola looked down at her blue silk dress. “This is your favorite dress.”

“It is.”

“I wore it for you.”

“And it is much appreciated.”

She looked at him again. “Do you suppose you can meet me tomorrow?” she said. “I can break away from the princess for a short time. Mayhap you can meet me by the river in our usual place?”

He nodded, but his expression was serious. He took a step toward her. “I shall, but seeing your brother marry has made me realize that I no longer wish to waste time,” he said. “I have done as you have asked. I have refrained from speaking to your father. But you were eighteen years of age last month, Nica. I want to ask your father’s permission to marry you. May I, my dearest? Is there any reason we must still wait?”

Nicola went to him, wrapping her hands around his as he held them against his broad chest. “He may be feeling sentimental with my brother getting married,” she said softly. “And my sister is marrying in a few months. I’ve always felt we should wait until Diara marries before we speak with him.”

Darius wasn’t happy with that answer. “I fail to understand why,” he said. “It is not as if our feelings are any secret.”

“I know.”

“Your father knows I am going to ask for your hand.”

“I know.”

“Then why the delay?”

“Because she is my youngest daughter and I am a selfish man.”

It wasn’t Nicola who replied, but Gage. He stood just a few feet behind them, but they’d been so wrapped up in one another that they never heard him approach. They were tucked over in a darkened corner of the hall and the ambient noise had masked his movements. Nicola gasped and yanked her hands out of Darius’ grip, but her father had seen them. He knew they had been holding hands. In fact, he’d seen Darius approach Nicola as she peered from the doors, looking for her brother, and that was when he’d left the dais and headed for them. He had to chuckle at a daughter who thought he hadn’t seen the obvious.

“Christ,” he muttered, looking at Darius. “Did you get rope burn on your palms with the speed with which she removed her hands?”

Darius smiled weakly, holding up both hands, palms out. “Am I bleeding, my lord?”

Gage pretended to peer more closely. “Not that I can see,” he said. Then his gaze moved to his daughter. “Nica, surely you do not think I am oblivious to this. I’ve known for a while now. You needn’t pretend any longer.”

Nicola tried not to look guilty. “I am sorry, Papa,” she said. “I wasn’t pretending anything. At least, I wasn’t trying to.”

“But you think I did not know?”

“Did Mama tell you?”

He pointed to his face. “I have eyes, lass,” he said wryly. “I would have had to be blind not to see what is going on between you and de Winter. When I asked Thor if there was something I should know, he said that it was not his secret to tell. And your mother did mention something, but very little. Of course I figured it out. I am not a fool.”

Nicola went to him, putting her hands on his arm. “Are you angry?”

Gage shook his head. “Angry? Nay,” he said. “But I would have been angry if either one of you had spoken to me about this before you came of age. Darius, the time has come to be plain. Am I to assume you have intentions toward my daughter?”

Darius wasn’t prepared for this conversation. Not really. He’d been planning it in his mind for nearly two years, ever since he became aware that the flame-haired de Reyne sister couldn’t take her eyes off him, but she had been adamant that they must wait until her older sister was married. Now that the sister was planning her nuptials, Darius was more prepared to move forward, but he hadn’t expected it at this very moment. He’d been caught off guard. Yet the moment was here and he stood straight, focused on the mighty Earl of Ashington.

His future father-in-law.

He hoped.

“I do, my lord,” he said with as much bravery as he could summon on such short notice. “Lady Nicola has forbidden me to speak to you until she came of age, and—”

“That was wise.”

Darius nodded even though Gage had cut him off. “Indeed, my lord,” he said. “When Lady Nicola told me the time was right, I planned to approach you and ask for her hand.”

“And?”

Darius took his eyes of Gage long enough to look at Nicola, who was gazing back at him with a hopeful expression. But not just any hope.

Hope for a future for them both.

Darius smiled faintly at her.

“I am not asking for just any hand,” he said quietly, returning his attention to Gage. “I am asking for the hand of a woman who is as kind as she is wise. Who is as beautiful outside as she is in character. The hand of a woman I would die for a thousand times over and cherish forever as my wife. The hand of a woman I will love with all my heart until the end of all things. That is what I wanted to say to you. Should you grant me permission to marry her, know that there is no moment in my life, now or evermore, that will be as important to me as this moment. The moment that the woman I love becomes mine.”

By the time he was finished, Nicola was teary-eyed and Gage had a smile on his face. It had been a powerful and touching speech, articulated by a man who had spoken from his heart. In fact, Gage chuckled softly.

“Good God, Darius,” he finally muttered. “Is that what you were going to say?”

“It is, my lord. Every word of it.”

Still smiling, Gage looked at Nicola, who beamed up at him with the anticipation that all young women in love had. He could read it in her eyes.

It would be difficult to refuse, in any case.

“And this is what you wish, sweetheart?” he asked. “This would make you happy?”

Nicola nodded, flicking a tear from her eye. “Look at him, Papa,” she said. “Is he not the most handsome, most wonderful man in all of England?”

Gage laughed softly, kissing her on the cheek. “He is fairly wonderful, aye,” he said. “If you are terribly sure, then I see no reason to deny him. Darius, you have my permission to marry Nicola. But let us wait until after her sister is married, please. Let this be Diara’s year. You two can marry next spring.”

With a shriek of delight, Nicola threw her arms around her father’s neck, knocking him sideways. He barely had time to recover his balance before she let him go and rushed at Darius, hitting the man so hard with a flying hug that he grunted at the impact. All the while, she was squealing with happiness. Rubbing his neck where she’d hit his throat, Gage chuckled at the unbridled display of joy.

“Nicola, show some decorum,” he admonished her, but he knew it was futile. “You nearly smashed your betrothed into the ground with that display. Did she break any ribs, Darius?”

Darius had one arm around Nicola as she danced around, trying to calm down as her father requested but being unable to do so. “If she did, they will heal,” he said, rubbing his sternum. “Thank you, my lord. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

Gage nodded, watching the two of them beam at each other. “Be happy together,” he said. “That is all the thanks I require.”

“I will do my best, my lord,” Darius said. “You have my word.”

“That is good enough for me,” Gage said. “But I am afraid I did not come here to only discuss a betrothal. I have come with some news that will see you two separated for a time.”

Both Darius and Nicola looked at him with concern as she stopped dancing about. “What is it, Papa?” she asked.

“My lord?” Darius said, overlapping her.

Gage could see how upset they were, right on the heels of having been so deliriously happy. He felt rather sorry for them.

“It is not terrible,” he said, holding up a hand to ease them, “but Thor wants to go to his new properties in the north and, Darius, you will be going with him. Henry has given his permission.”

Darius looked at Nicola to see her reaction before returning his gaze to Gage. “For how long, my lord?”

Gage shrugged. “I do not know,” he said. “As long as it takes Thor to survey his properties, I suppose. It will not be forever.”

Nicola reached out to take Darius’ hand, holding it tightly with both of her small, warm mitts. The poor woman looked as if she wanted to cry.

“Thank you for telling us, Papa,” she said. “And thank you… for your permission to marry. It means so very much to us.”

Gage smiled faintly at his struggling daughter. “He will not be gone forever, sweetheart,” he assured her. “You are to marry a knight. You must become accustomed to him leaving you from time to time. Lord knows I’ve left your mother enough times that I’m surprised she remembers me when I return. It is simply part of the profession.”

They were encouraging words, but Nicola wasn’t willing to give in to them. She was looking at Darius with sad eyes, and he wasn’t sure how to comfort her. They’d been separated before, but this was different. They were newly betrothed.

He didn’t want to leave her, either.

“Even if I must go, it will not be tonight or even tomorrow,” he told her. “Shall we go back into the hall with your father?”

Nicola nodded, but she still held his hand tightly. “Aye.”

It wasn’t exactly proper for her to be holding Darius’ hand as they returned to their seats, so Gage held out his hand to her, encouraging her to come with him.

“Let us return and see what course is next,” he said. “Henry told me that there were at least fourteen courses for the feast, so let us see what delicacies are in store for us.”

But Nicola shook her head. “Not at the moment,” she said. “Will you let me have a few moments alone with Darius, Papa? Please?”

Gage looked at Darius, who seemed rather hopeful about having a few moments alone with her, too, so he relented.

“Just a few,” he said. “And when you come back in, do not be holding hands, please. A proper distance, at least until the betrothal is announced.”

“When will that be, Papa?” Nicola asked.

“Soon,” Gage said. “We will have a celebration just for the announcement, as befitting the House of de Reyne and the House of de Winter. This will be a great union.”

Nicola snorted. “I am marrying a man, not his family.”

Gage snorted softly. “You think so, do you?” he said. “I will let Darius explain that one.”

With that, he headed back toward the dais, leaving Darius and Nicola alone in the shadows. When he was out of earshot, Nicola turned to Darius.

“I am going with you when you leave with my brother,” she said.

Darius frowned. “You cannot go with me.”

“I can,” she insisted. “The new Lady de Reyne has no ladies-in-waiting. She will need my guidance, so I am therefore going with her. I will convince my brother that it is necessary. It is simply coincidence that you are going, too.”

He grinned. “You are a clever little devil, Nica.”

She smiled arrogantly. “I know,” she said. “But you like me that way.”

His smile softened. “I love you that way,” he murmured. “And you cannot possibly know how happy I am right now.”

She squeezed his hand. “I do,” she whispered. “Because I feel that way, too.”

“Shall we return to the hall?”

“With pleasure.”

Standing a few feet apart, they came out of the shadows and made their way through the hall and the crowds of men as the next course was brought out, which happened to be fish in a sweet sauce. Perhaps it wasn’t their betrothal feast, but it would do. Their love, and their joy, would finally come to fruition.

For Nicola and Darius, it was the best night of their lives.

*

“What did yousay?”

“I said it has been one of the best nights of my life.”

Caledonia stared at Thor a moment before breaking into a grin. “I thought that was what you said,” she said. “I suppose I had to hear it twice to believe it.”

“Why?”

They had reached Thor’s chamber, the one with the windows that overlooked part of Westminster’s outer bailey, and Thor was in the process of lowering the oilcloth blinds that would keep out the light and dust and weather as Caledonia stood awkwardly near the end of the bed.

“Because you speak of our wedding night,” she said. “It is true that tonight has been quite pleasant. Surprisingly so. But my only experience with a wedding night, with Robert, was hellish. It is difficult for me to think of any night that has to do with a wedding as a wonderful thing.”

Thor smoothed down the end of the oilcloth he was working on. “Given how de Tosni treated you, I can only imagine how bad it was,” he said. “If you wish to tell me, that is your choice. I will not force you to.”

She lowered her gaze. “I feel as if all I do is complain and tell you horrible things, but the reality is that everything I tell you is the truth.”

“Then what is the truth about your wedding night with de Tosni, if only so I do not make the same mistake?”

She drew in a long, pensive breath. “You will not,” she said. “But the truth is that my father sold me to Robert. I was a bride for a price.”

Thor secured the bottom of one of the oilcloths to the nail on the windowsill. “He sold you?”

She nodded. “De Tosni had been married before,” she said. “His wife died and he had two daughters, who also died, so he offered my father a high price for me—and my father, being greedy, accepted. Instead of Father paying Robert a dowry, Robert paid a groom’s dowry that went straight into my father’s coffers. On our wedding night, Robert got drunk and wanted a son so badly that he insisted the priest who married us pray over us as we consummated the marriage. I lay on my back as my husband forced himself upon me, and all the while a priest stood over us and prayed that I would conceive a son. Our eldest daughter was born exactly nine months later.”

Thor was looking at her in horror. After a moment, he shook his head in disgust. “God’s Bones,” he muttered. “I am so very sorry that happened to you, Caledonia. You did not deserve that.”

There was something vindicating in his sympathy, something that made her feel comfortable in telling him the horrors of what she’d experienced. She’d never really spoken of them to anyone, and Thor was so easy to talk to that it simply came out whether or not she wanted it to.

“That is not the worst of it,” she said, trying not to feel ashamed. “My husband bedded me six times during our marriage, and each time, he had the priest come and pray over us. Every single time. Once I conceived, he would not touch me again until he wanted another child.”

Thor grunted in revulsion. The more he heard about Caledonia’s life, the more pity he felt for her. He was a man with a heart, something he’d struggled with as a mercenary those years ago because mercenaries were men who were, by definition, heartless in most cases. They were only in it for the money. It was true that Thor had been driven by coin because, as a second son, he had to earn his way in life, but he struggled with the unconscionable things that mercenaries sometimes did. He endured it for a few years before he finally came home, eager to return to a position that was more honorable than fighting for money and not faith or loyalty. But even in all of the situations he’d experienced in his life, some good and some bad, Caledonia’s tales of woe were difficult to hear.

The demons she had went deeper than he’d thought.

“I am glad that you feel you can tell me these things,” he said after a moment. “I cannot imagine it is easy for you to remember them, much less speak of them. You honor me.”

She looked at him. “I tell you because I think you should know,” she said. “We are married and you should know that right now… What we are about to do… I am so terrified that I want to run. It is taking a great deal for me not to.”

He went to her, reaching out to take her hand. “You have been, since I have met you, one of the most courageous people I have ever known,” he said. “You are fearless as few people are. You speak of horrors from your past without breaking down and screaming about them, and I cannot imagine how much control that takes. But I want to promise you that although we must consummate this marriage, I will make sure you are comfortable with it.”

She looked at him, contemplating his words. They were strong and sincere. “Are you truly this kind?” she finally asked.

He laughed softly. “You have asked me that before,” he said. “Would you prefer I push you around and shout at you?”

She grinned. “Not particularly, but I keep waiting for you to lose your temper or do something unsaintly,” she said. “Truly, you are too good to be true. You are an angel. Mayhap I should call you that instead of Blue.”

“I’m no angel,” he assured her. “Remember—I was a mercenary. I kill on command. And a host of other unsavory things I will not discuss.”

“But you will not have a priest stand over us tonight when we… as we…?”

He shook his head so she didn’t have to finish. “I’d throw him out the window if he tried,” he said. “What we do tonight should only be between the two of us. We do not need an audience.”

That seemed to give her comfort. At least she was convinced that this wouldn’t become a spectacle. She looked at the chamber, at the dresses that were still lying on the bed where Nicola had left them, at shifts and shoes and other things that were lying about.

“Then I suppose I should pick up these things your sister brought so we can clear the bed,” she said, moving to collect the yellow and blue and red garments. “I like her, by the way.”

“Nicola?”

“She’s very sweet.”

“She’s a pest and should be swatted away,” he said sternly, but he saw her grin. “But… she is kind when she wants to be.”

Caledonia put the garments on the nearest table and began picking up the shoes on the floor. “Thank you for sending her to me.”

“You are welcome.”

“Does she live in London all the time?”

“Mostly.”

“A pity,” Caledonia said. “I feel as if we could be friends. A pity she cannot go with us to Edingale.”

He was standing over by the bed, loosening his belt. “Would you like that?”

She looked up from the table of clothing. “That would be impossible,” she said. “Your sister serves at court.”

He shrugged. “I can speak with my father,” he said. “It might help you to have Nicola around while we are settling in. She could be of great assistance.”

Caledonia didn’t want to get her hopes up. “Do you think she would be willing to leave court?”

“She has been here for a few years,” he said, removing his belt and slinging it across the nearest chair. “It’s possible she would be pleased with a change of duties and a change of scenery. Besides… Darius is going with me. If she knows he’s going, she’ll want to come.”

“Darius?”

“The man she is in love with.”

Caledonia nodded in understanding. “She mentioned there was someone special,” she said. “From the House of de Winter?”

“A very powerful family that mostly resides in Norfolk,” he said, moving to remove his heavy tunic. “Do you know of them?”

“I confess that I do not.”

Thor loosened the laces on the blue tunic. “A big family with several branches,” he said. “Most families are like that. Mine certainly is. But de Winter has two main branches—Davyss de Winter, son of Grayson, who was Henry’s champion years ago, and then Hew de Winter and his sons, Darius and Dirk and Rafe. Hew and Grayson were brothers. There are more de Winters scattered about, but those are the main branches of the family.”

As he was talking, he’d pulled the tunic over his head, exposing his naked torso. Caledonia found herself staring at him, hearing his voice but not hearing his words. Everything seemed to get fuzzy and her face suddenly grew quite hot. He had a magnificent chest, broad and powerful, and his arms were heavily muscled. Even his shoulders and neck had muscles. The man was, quite honestly, one of the most perfect specimens she’d ever seen—and given her regular visits to Gomorrah, she’d seen plenty.

“Caledonia? Callie?”

It occurred to her that he was calling her name. Speaking to her. She’d been so consumed with staring at the man’s naked flesh that she hadn’t heard him at first. Sheepishly, she tore her eyes away from his chest and looked him in the eye.

He grinned.

“Did I bore you too much with the de Winter lineage?” he asked.

She shook her head. Then she nodded. Flustered, she turned back to the garments on the table. “I am sorry,” she said. “I suppose I’m simply weary. It has been a long day and, I swear to you, I think I’m still a little drunk from last night.”

He laughed softly. “As I said, I think we both are,” he said. “But the way you were looking at me… you’re not going to ask me to dance, are you?”

Her cheeks flamed at the question but she couldn’t help but giggle. “It had not occurred to me,” she said. “But I will say that the last time a man in your state of undress danced for me, he removed everything and tried to seduce me. I assume that is what you are going to do, too?”

“Was he one of the forty-nine men you’ve taken to your bed?”

She burst out laughing, turning to look at him. “I really have not taken forty-nine men to my bed,” she said. “I only said that because you said you’d taken nineteen to your bed. I wanted to shock you.”

He was grinning. “I have a confession.”

“What?”

“I really have not taken nineteen women to my bed.”

“Then how many?”

His eyebrows lifted. “Do you really want to talk about now?”

She cocked her head curiously. “Why?” she said. “Are you ashamed?”

He shook his head. “Nay,” he said honestly. “But I shouldn’t think the subject of my past lovers would be of any interest to you.”

Caledonia pondered that statement for a moment. “I suppose it is not,” she said. “But I do want to know one thing.”

“What is that?”

“Will I be competing with a memory of a former love? Someone who has marked your heart?”

“Will I be competing with the same?”

“I asked you first.”

Thoughtfully, he sat down on the bed. “When El Martillo was in Zaragoza, he met a woman named Lenore,” he said, speaking of his alter ego. “Lenore was the daughter of the man who had paid us a good deal of money to destroy a neighbor. Lenore was fiery and lovely and, in fact, reminds me of you a little. She was strong, like you. I admired that. But she was meant for another and that was disappointing. Did she mark my heart? She did. But I did not give it to her. I’ve not given it to anyone.”

Caledonia appreciated the honest answer. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “I can truthfully tell you that there was one man in my life that I loved madly when I was fostering, but I was only eleven years of age and he was at least forty years, with a wife and sons and grandchildren, so there was no hope for me. I had so little love from my own father, and Sir Roland was so free with his hugs and kindness that it was natural I should love the man. I imagined we would marry someday in spite of his already having a wife, but his life was cut short when I was about thirteen years of age in a skirmish with some outlaws. It was an inglorious ending to a glorious man. It still makes me sad to think of it sometimes.”

Thor had a gentle smile on his lips. “But you honor him every time you think of him,” he said. “I promise you, a man who is well remembered will never die. He lives on as long as you speak of him.”

“Then he will live as long as I have breath in my body.”

Thor grinned. “That is a fine tribute,” he said. “But I must say I am glad he did not marry you. If he had, you would not be here now.”

“True,” Caledonia said, watching him pull both boots off and set them by the bed. “Should I undress now, too?”

He looked at her. “Would you like me to help you?” he said, indicating the garment she wore. “The ties are in the back.”

She nodded and turned around. He stood up from the bed and came up behind her, unlacing all of the careful ties his sister had put in place. He could see the elegant nape of her neck, her alabaster skin, and his attraction to her was nearly overwhelming. He didn’t want to seem overeager and scare her, not when she was already spooked, so he gently untied the back of her gown when he really wanted to yank it off her and explore what he had before him.

Damn, but the woman was fine.

“Would you like me to take the lead?” he said softly. “If you simply want to experience this moment and not do any of the work, I am happy to do what needs to be done. If you are comfortable with that.”

She turned around to look at him, the dress coming loose as she did. “I know you are trying to be considerate,” she said, appearing a little nervous now that her clothes were coming off. “I appreciate it, truly, but I have done this before. But I will be honest when I tell you that I took no pleasure with it.”

“Would you like me to show you pleasure?”

“Can you?”

His lips twitched with a smile. “I can,” he said. “I will if you will let me.”

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Very well,” she said. “What do I need to do?”

His smile broke through and he moved so that he was standing in front of her, gazing down at her. “You need to promise me that whatever I do, you’ll simply let me do it,” he said. “I promise that I will not hurt you and if you are uncomfortable, you can tell me to stop, but if you are brave—and willing—just let me do what I want to do.”

It didn’t seem unreasonable. Considering this had been a dreaded duty her entire married life with Robert, she wasn’t entirely sure that Thor could show her any pleasure, but she was willing to let him try. He’d not lied to her yet, but more than that, she was quite attracted to him. His close proximity made her cheeks heat up and her heart race. That had never happened with Robert, so perhaps this would be different.

It was yet one more chance she was willing to take with him.

With resignation, she nodded.

Thor didn’t hesitate. He grasped her arms and steered her toward the bed, laying her back on the mattress with incredible gentleness. Once she was flat on her back, looking up at him with some apprehension, he slanted his mouth over hers—gently at first, but with growing passion when he realized how sweet she tasted. True to her agreement, Caledonia simply lay there and let him kiss her.

She might have even kissed him back.

That emboldened him.

The dress had to come off. With his mouth fixed to hers, he pulled it down in one big yank, pulling it off her feet and lowering his big body on hers. She still had a shift on, a thin linen sheath, and his hands stroked her arms, her shoulder, before moving to her breasts. They were round and full, quite succulent under the shift, which was nearly transparent because it was so fine. His mouth left hers, blazing a trail of kisses down her neck, to her chest, before he moved to her left breast. He kissed it through the fabric before finally clamping his hot mouth on her taut nipple. Suckling her through the fabric nearly brought her off the bed, but not because she was frightened.

Because she liked it.

Their passion was gaining momentum by the moment. The more he suckled and probed her breasts, the more she writhed beneath him and the more aroused he became. Her response was innate, inexperienced, and honest. It only served to excite them even more.

At some point, she stopped simply lying there and letting him do as he wished. Her arms came up, going around him as he suckled her. He could feel her hands timidly touching him, knowing she was feeling what he was feeling, and he smiled as he continued to suckle. He’d hoped to awaken her a little and could see that he was succeeding. Caledonia’s apprehension seemed to be gone as she arched shamelessly against his mouth, her body wanting to experience all he had to offer. It was everything she had been denied for all of these years. She had no idea that a touch could be so sweet, a kiss so tender.

She wanted more.

Thor wanted her so badly he could hardly think straight. He’d expected this experience to be slow and pleasant, but it was quickly turning into a roaring blaze. The more she responded, the more forceful he became. At some point, he stopped feasting on her breasts long enough to remove her shift and his breeches with it. Then they were nude on the bed, their limbs intertwining, flesh against flesh.

Thor was on fire.

He pushed his knees between her legs, pulling her knees apart. He trailed his fingers to her inner thighs and heard her moan softly, but he slanted his mouth over hers again and the sounds were muffled. Slowly, his hands moved up to the dark curls between her legs and delicately roved over the outer flesh.

Caledonia startled when she felt his fingers caressing her. He did not probe her, merely touched her, and it gave her the opportunity to become accustomed to his touch. Robert had never touched her there, except with his male member, so to feel Thor’s hand down there was a new and arousing experience. She wasn’t afraid.

In fact, she liked it.

Shockingly, she liked it.

Thor’s fingers finally probed her, gently at first. Given the fact that she had given birth to three children, she’d had her share of midwives between her legs, and it wasn’t a completely foreign feeling, but the way Thor was touching her most definitely was. He kept on with his forceful kisses, inserting his finger into her carefully and hearing her gasp at the penetration.

“Did I hurt you?” he whispered raggedly.

She shook her head. “Nay.”

“Are you uncomfortable? Should I stop?”

All Caledonia could do was shake her head, winding her arms around his neck and timidly slanting her lips over his. Laughing low in his throat, Thor pushed two fingers into her, mimicking the thrusting rhythm that would soon be taking place. Her body throbbed and pulled at him and he could no longer wait to claim her. Removing his fingers, he placed his manhood against her.

Slowly, he thrust into her because he wanted to measure her reaction. Would it be too much? Would she resist? But Caledonia showed no signs of breaking, opening her legs wider for him in a gesture that had him on fire. Two full thrusts and he was fully seated, and then the primal rhythm took hold. He thrust into her again and again, feeling his climax approaching faster than he had believed possible. Beneath him, Caledonia moved with his body, wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him down into her. Her hands, so still when they had begun, were now moving over him—his chest, his torso, his hips. When she touched his buttocks, however, it was his undoing—he released into her with a growl of satisfaction that shook them both.

Caledonia felt his member throbbing within her and knew what it meant. It was the only thing Robert lived for and then he was quickly gone. But she had actually been enjoying this moment with Thor so much that she was disappointed that it was over so quickly. Or so she thought.

Thor wasn’t done yet.

Even after he climaxed, he continued to move within her, still full and hard. Thor wanted her to enjoy this as much as he had and moved his hands under her hips, holding her against him as he continued to thrust into her. Caledonia’s body was responding, the heat in her loins like liquid fire that was blooming in intensity. Every time their bodies came together, sparks flew. She could feel them. More sparks and she was quickly approaching… something. She didn’t even know what it was, but it was as if her entire body was lifting. Rising out of the bed. Then his last, hard thrust threw her over the brink and she experienced her first release.

Caledonia pealed a cry as her entire body stiffened with rapture. Thor’s mouth descended swiftly on hers to muffle the cry as he felt her heated walls pull at him. Her first release was monumental. Her body was electrified by it. Given her reaction, he was fairly certain she’d never experienced one before.

He was glad it was with him.

Caledonia wasn’t sure what had happened. All that she knew was that she had never before felt such rapturous pleasure. It came from the junction where their bodies joined, and she put her hand down there, curious and exploring, but was so sensitive that she immediately had another release as soon as she touched herself. Realizing where it came from, and how good it felt, she rubbed herself again and more ripples coursed through her. Thor, still embedded in her, remained where he was, feeling her body adjust to something it had never had the pleasure of experiencing before. He gently kissed her neck, her shoulder, her earlobe, as Caledonia fondled them both.

And then he grew hard again.

Thor didn’t know how long they spent in a clutch, making love, fondling one another, acquainting themselves with something that was beyond simple pleasure. It was shocking and delirious and erotic. Caledonia’s curious hands played with him long into the night.

And he let her.