Your Gavin. Madelyne fixated on those words. He was, indeed, hers now, and the thought made her stomach curl and flutter as she thought of what was to come.
All too soon, Tricky finished brushing her hair and, with one last pat on the head, hurried from the room, leaving Madelyne to herself. But no sooner had Tricky gone than a soft knock came and the door opened.
Gavin slipped in and turned to close the door, bolting it immediately. "I believe I escaped without being detected. . . but there is always the chance that someone saw me. " He turned and froze when he saw her, standing next to the blazing fire.
"Madelyne. . . Lady Mal Verne. . . it is as if every time I see you, you grow more beautiful. " He stepped toward her, resting the weight of his hand on her cheek and then reaching to smooth it down the length of her hair. "Since the moment I met you, I needed to see you thus. . . with your hair loose. I craved for days to know even the color of your hair. . . and feared you'd shaven it at the abbey. Now. . . I wish to see you clothed only in those black locks. "
Warmth and anticipation skittered up her spine, and Madelyne felt the full impact of the effect she had upon the man who was now her husband. With a boldness she did not know she possessed-or how she came about it-she caught hold of her shift. Raising her hands above her head, lifting her unbound breasts under the chemise, and she felt the light linen scrape over them as she pulled the slip from her body.
When it fell to the floor beside her, she heard Gavin's intake of breath and saw the darkness surge into his eyes. His gaze heavy and dark, he strode toward her and gathered her into his arms. Her naked body fit to him, all along the length of him, sensitive to the roughness of his own clothing, the rise and fall of his chest, and the hardness of his arousal pulsing between them.
They kissed wildly, as one of his large hands reached between them to hold the heaviness of her breast, and Madelyne's bare feet settled atop Gavin's booted ones. The mixture of sensation between the coarse fabric of his tunic and the soft sensuality of his mouth, along with the demanding strokes of his thumb over her stiff nipple, caused a great shiver to tremble along her spine. Something swelled and dampened pleasantly between her legs.
With a deep breath, Gavin set her away from him and stepped back, placing both hands on his hips as if to keep them in control. "I believe it only fair that we should be on equal standing," he told her with a crooked half-smile. "Allow me to disrobe-if it please you, my lady-and we may commence with our desires then. "
"It pleases me to assist you," she said, needing something to do, to focus on other than what was to happen.
She knelt at his feet, gathering her hair into a bundle and pushing it over one shoulder. Slowly, as the anticipation between them grew, she untied his boots, removing them from his feet. She unlaced his cross-garters, taking her time, sliding along the firm, muscled calves they enclosed. Madelyne felt the weight of his hand on the top of her head, and the firmness as his fingers tightened when she reached to pull down his chausses.
His legs now bare to her, Madelyne saw how thick and darkly-haired they were. She saw the ridges of muscle and the planes of his knees rising into massive thighs half-covered by his tunic. Heat pooled in her middle, sliding from her belly to the place between her legs, and she suddenly felt light-headed even as she reached to touch him.
As though sensing the effect he had on her, Gavin reached for her shoulder, lifting her gently from under the arm, so that she stood in front of him. "My tunic," he said in a rasping voice, reaching with both hands to gather up her breasts in the moment before she moved.
She obeyed, helping him to pull it up and over, stepping close enough that the tips of her upthrust breasts brushed against his thin sherte. Gavin's breath came faster, harsher now and he stepped back to yank the sherte from his shoulders-standing bare before her. His chest, broad and dusted with hair, rose and fell, rose and fell, and his bare, muscular arms hung, unmoving, from his defined shoulders.
Madelyne looked, saw that part of him that Peg promised would bring pleasure to her if she allowed it, and swallowed. Her dry throat constricted, grating in the silent room, and she stood still-unsure of what to do.
Gavin stepped toward her, and they were skin to skin, mouth to mouth, foot to foot. Before she realized it, he'd shifted them toward the bed and sank onto it with her.
The different textures of his body enticed her-coarse thatches of hair, rough callused fingertips, moist lips, sleek muscles, and soft hair-and Madelyne touched every part of him.
At last, he eased away, guiding her onto her back, and leaned over her to take one of her nipples into his mouth. He sucked gently, using the tip of his tongue to trace the sudden hardness there. She gasped at the sensation-a fire-that streaked through her, and her eyes closed as pleasure swelled and surged inside her.
"Gavin. . . . " she breathed. With a brief, wicked grin such as she'd never seen before from him, he glanced up at her, then returned to his gentle teasing. Madelyne sighed in delight, shivering with a heat she'd never expected to know. . . and then nearly leapt off the bed when she felt the warm weight of his palm covering the thatch of hair between her legs. "Gavin, nay. . . what. . . . " Her voice trailed off as a wave of throbbing heat started there between her legs and shot to the end of each nerve.
His fingers slipped in and through her private place in a teasing rhythm, gentle over the most sensitive nub that seemed to swell with every stroke. Madelyne found herself reaching inside, deep inside, for something that was. . . just. . . out. . . of. . . reach. . . . And suddenly she was there, shuddering under his fingers and mouth and hands, sobbing with the shock of such pleasure, burying her face into the bedding to wipe the tears.
"Maddie, Maddie," he whispered, taking her into his arms and pulling her close to his solid chest. "My sweet, my sweet. . . you are so lovely. " He kissed her on the top of her head, trailing gentle pecks along her hair and chin and to her mouth, where he covered her lips fully with hers. His slick tongue drove inside her mouth and he became more urgent, his hands pulling her hips, shifting them as he pressed her back onto the bed.
All at once, he paused, stilling in his position above her. "Maddie, do you know what is to happen?" he asked, his voice taut, his eyes searching hers. "Aye," she breathed, thanking Tricky-who, for all of her talk, was as inexperienced as her mistress-for broaching the subject with Peg. "Aye, I am ready, Gavin. "
With a last, delving kiss, Gavin pulled back to ease between her legs. There was a smooth, sliding sensation and then, one sharp movement followed by a stab of pain. She gasped and he stilled, waiting for the surprise to pass.
He moved slowly, sliding in a sweet, warm rhythm. The pain ebbed, and as the numbness eased, something else began to take its place-that delicious, swelling sensation from before. Gavin's breath came more harshly and Madelyne twitched beneath him. He shifted into a faster, more urgent rhythm, and Madelyne closed her eyes as the pleasure grew, billowing into that explosion of beauty once again. As she gave a soft cry of surprise-again!-he arched back, fitting deep into her with one last thrust.
She felt him shudder against her and saw the naked beauty on his face in that moment of pleasure, and his low, rough exhalation. As Gavin came back to himself, she gathered him close, closing her eyes and smiling at an intimacy she'd never thought to experience.
How blessed had she become.
The morn came too soon for Gavin, but he relinquished the blooded sheets to a squire so that they could be displayed as proof of Madelyne's virginity and his own ability to consummate the marriage. There would be no chance of an annulment with such evidence.
Despite the fact that it was the day after his wedding, he was expected to attend Henry-and Madelyne to be present in Eleanor's court room-so they rose and went about their business during the day.
But when the evening came, and they ate in the great hall together, Gavin could not keep his attention from Madelyne. . . and from the rising color on her face, he presumed that her thoughts followed the same path as his. He could not remember ever feeling happier or more fulfilled in his life.
Even in his early days with Nicola-when he'd believed they might share a love betwixt them some day-this self-same sense of contentment and pure peace was never part of his life. Madelyne had brought that depth of serenity to him, and he'd spoken truthfully to her. Somehow in the last weeks since he'd met her, Gavin had lost his death wish, his urge to leave this earth, his sense of carelessness with his life. Now. . . he realized he wanted only to make a life with Madelyne.
The only thing that kept him from being wholly contented was the knowledge that Fantin de Belgrume was still alive.