Her green eyes glinted with humor as she bit into another bun. He fondled a lock of her ebony hair.
“Perhaps my fairy queen will give me a dark-haired fairy princess.”
“Or perhaps we’ll have a little boy who looks like a Viking,” she said.
Aidan grimaced. “I think one Viking duke is enough.”
She laughed, a beautiful sound. He looked down at the tray, which he had mostly ravaged. She had eaten a good amount too. “How are you feeling now?” he asked.
“Much better. Perfectly better.”
Her gaze shone with contentedness. How long had he wished her to be content and happy? If only it had not taken a brush with death to snap him out of his idiotic behavior. He felt her forehead and cupped her face. “You are really better?”
She looked down, shy again. “I feel very well. I apologize for giving you such a scare. I suppose if I ever deserved punishment, it is now.”
She peeked up again and met his gaze. Everything inside him clenched: his heart, his soul, his cock. He wanted her so badly.
“I suppose you do deserve some consequences for your actions,” he agreed. He picked up the trays from the bed. “Go in my bathing room and take care of your necessities. I’ll be waiting for you here.”
Her eyes went wide. Well, she’d practically begged for it, hadn’t she? She responded with equal parts dread and excitement, lovely girl, and scurried off to use the privy. When she returned, he was ready with four lengths of sturdy rope.
“Take off that shirt, darling, and lie back on my bed.”
“What are you going to do?” Gwen asked, staring at the ropes and then back at his face.
“I’m going to tie you up for a little while,” he replied. “It seems an appropriate consequence for someone who’s run away.”
“Oh.”
There was a world of emotion in that “oh.” Fear and reluctance and curiosity and longing, and the same lustful craving he felt. She draped his shirt over a chair and climbed onto the bed, and lay back upon it. Ah, those long legs, those supple breasts. His cock bucked within his tightening breeches.
“How long will you tie me up?” she asked as he gathered her arms and raised them over her head.
“As long as I wish. I fear I may still be a lofty and commanding master when it comes to your body.” He made quick work of the knots, taking care not to bind her wrists too tightly. She might still be weak as a kitten, but he wanted her to feel tied down, conquered. He knew she loved that feeling.
And he, of course, loved conquering her. In this, there were no apologies to make, no pleas for second chances.
“Open your legs,” he said.
She inched them apart. He made a soft sound of amusement and palmed her quim.
“Don’t pretend to be a shrinking miss. I can feel how wet you are. Open your legs for your husband. Open them wide.”
She made such a delectable picture, spreading her legs as he probed her slick, heated folds. She arched against his hand, still trying to be ladylike about it. He’d have her writhing and begging soon enough. For now, he applied himself to tying her ankles to the bedposts. When he was finished, she lay beautifully open to him.
“There,” he said in a teasing voice. “That’s what happens to young ladies who try to run away from their husbands. Are you sorry for what you did?”
She tugged at the ropes, until he could barely restrain himself from mounting her. Soon. Don’t rush through, when things have just begun again. He wanted to play with her a while.
“Answer me,” he prompted, putting a hand to the falls of his breeches. “Are you a sorry little duchess?”
She nodded, putting on an adorable show of dread. “Yes, Your Grace. I deserve to be punished.”
“You certainly do,” he agreed in all seriousness. “But you are still recovering, so I can’t dole out the severe corporal punishment you so richly deserve.”
“How unfortunate,” she murmured, as he released his cock from its confinement. “About the punishment, not the recovery.”
His organ sprang forward, fully aroused. “You shouldn’t push your luck. Not in your position.”
“Yes, Sir.” She stared at his cock and tugged at the ropes again. “May I still call you Sir in these sorts of situations?”
“I would recommend doing so. But only in these situations, if you please.” He crawled onto the bed, between the legs of his willing victim. He cupped her breasts and stroked her nipples, and ran his palms down over her hips, and thought how very beautiful they made women in Wales. Her shining black hair spread out, dark and wild, upon the pillow.
“Now, what shall I do with you?” he asked. He teased her pussy, entering it with his fingers to make her moan and arch. “How shall I make certain you never leave me again?”
“Goodness,” she whispered. “You frighten me sometimes.”
“Why?” He pressed his fingers deeper. The ropes creaked as she squirmed from the stimulation.
“Because of the way you make me feel.”
He leaned down to place a kiss at the apex of her sex. “Don’t be afraid. Just enjoy it.”
He placed a palm on either side of her trembling thighs and explored her quim, teasing her with his lips and tongue. She groaned and arched her hips as he delved between her folds to her little thrusting pearl. He loved how her breathing sped up, and her movements intensified. She was so alive when he touched her. She opened herself to him as no other woman ever had.
“You like that?” he asked, looking up at her.
“Yes.” She nodded and squirmed some more. “I like it. I do.”
“I’m going to put my cock inside you next. I’m going to press inside you and make you mine.”
“Like...a...”
“What?”
“Like a...marauder,” she said breathlessly. “Claiming me.”
He grinned, basking in the scent of her femininity. “Yes, an English duke marauding a Welsh stronghold. I shall take the baron’s only daughter for my own.” He ran his hands down her inner thighs, to the rope about her ankles. “I’ll force her to my will, and once I’ve been inside her, no one will be able to deny my claim.”
She trembled as he palmed his cock. “Perhaps a...Viking duke,” she suggested. “You look more like a Viking than an Englishman.”
He laughed. “Such imagination. A Viking duke then, with a fairy queen tied to my bed, completely at my mercy.”
“A fairy queen? Not a baron’s daughter?”
“I get to have my fantasies too.” He laid over her, nudging against her entrance. She pretended to struggl
e, embroiled in their game.
“You can’t escape me, my wild, exotic queen.” He grasped her bound hands to settle her, and held her gaze. “And when I take you, then I shall be king by right of possession.”
“Release me,” she cried.
“Never.”
He pressed inside her, arching over her with his best Viking-duke expression of carnal mayhem. “How does it feel to fall to your enemy?” he taunted. “I’m going to make a baby inside you. An Engli—er—Viking baby so that our family lines are linked forever. You’ll never get away from me.”
“Oh, please.” Her hands fisted as she strained at her bonds. “How ruthless you are.”
By now, his fairy queen had submitted completely to her Viking invader, arching her hips, squeezing upon his cock.
“You’re mine now,” he said as he drove repeatedly between her tied-open thighs. “Mine forever. How does that feel?”
“It feels very...very...wonderful,” she gasped.
“Show me how wonderful.” He kissed her neck and nipped at her nipples and breasts. His thrusts quickened, sending pleasure deeper and thicker within his body as she bucked to meet him. “Show me how fine it feels to be claimed by your Viking king.”
She dissolved into ecstasy, and he felt a victorious sense of satisfaction, as if he really were a marauder, only his captive was willing, and the dynamic between them felt perfectly right. He came inside her, pure male contentment. His woman, his love, and eventually, the mother of his children, children who would be born of two very different parents who had finally discovered they belonged together after all.
Even if one of them occasionally needed to be tied down to the bed.
* * * * *
Gwen watched her husband with the usual mix of complicated feelings. Lust, embarrassment, pleasure, excitement. But mostly lust. Second chances felt very, very good.
He looked as satisfied as she. Rather than untie her right away, he touched various parts of her body, stroking, caressing, lingering over the curve of her hips. He brushed her hair back and leaned his forehead to hers.