“Not yet?” he asked, knowing that she liked him to linger inside her for a few moments after he had come. He had learned that she would sometimes climax again, though not as hard but satisfying enough when he did that.
He moved gently inside her and he felt her shudder and her eyes flutter for a moment as one last climax settled over her. He waited a moment longer, and then slipped out of her. He pulled the blankets out from under them and covered them both as he slipped beneath and took her in his arms.
“You are insatiable,” he said with a tender laugh.
She looked up at him, smiled, and nodded her head as she tapped his chest.
“It better be only for me,” he teased.
She nodded and yawned.
“You’re tired,” he scolded, though it wasn’t Dawn he was scolding. It was himself. He should have been more considerate of her condition and not worn her out.
She shook her head.
He scowled. “Your yawn tells me differently.”
She rubbed gently at the lines that had deepened between his eyes, trying to rub away his concern, though she doubted it would work. Cree did what Cree wanted regardless of what others said. But she had grown a bit stubborn herself, though her gentle nature had her handling it differently.
She took his hand and placed it on her stomach, resting hers over it.
His scowl faded some as he said, “The babe makes you tired.”
She nodded, patted her chest, and smiled brightly.
“But you feel good.”
She nodded, her smile turning natural. She patted her chest again, then placed her two hands together as if in prayer and placed them to the side of her face and closed her eyes briefly, opened them and patted his hand where it lay on her stomach.
“You will rest when the babe needs it.”
She nodded again and pressed her hand against his, shaking her head.
“I know you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the babe, but that does not mean I don’t worry about the both of you. So, do not make me worry.”
She crossed her heart.
“I will hold you to that promise,” he said and kissed her gently.
Dawn enjoyed this early morning time she got to spend with Cree. They would often make love, and then talk. He talked to her as if she had a voice, and she loved him all the more for it.
“My sister is very angry with me,” Cree said, “and I do not blame her.”
Dawn made no gesture. He needed to talk and she wanted to listen.
“I had other plans for her. I wanted her to pick a husband of her own choosing, possibly fall in love. This was not a homecoming I wanted for her.”
Dawn made several gestures and Cree was quick to respond.
“I know Torr is a good man and will treat my sister well, but—”
Dawn interrupted with another gesture.
“You are right,” he snapped, “the choice wasn’t only taken from my sister. It was taken from me as well. And I don’t like it or that I can’t do anything about it. She is my sister, damn it. I promised her I would always protect her and keep her safe. Now here she is wed to a stranger. And I do not need reminding that your brother is a good man, to her he is a stranger, and it can be terrifying for a woman to be forced upon a man she does not know.”
He cringed, realizing what he had just said and took hold of Dawn’s chin. “Were you terrified of me when they threw you in that God-awful shack with me?”
She nodded.
He winced and let go of her chin. “You were brave.”
She tapped his chest and pressed her hand to his heart.
“Are you saying I was kind?”
She nodded.
“Are you trying to ruin my reputation?” he scowled, though his voice teased.
She pressed her hand to her chest, and then to her lips.
“You will keep my secret?”
She spread her hands wide.
“Forever,” he nodded, then whispered, “That is how long I will love you—forever.”
He kissed her, and they snuggled in each other’s arms neither wanting to let go of the other.
Chapter Seventeen
Cree sat in the Great Hall alone. Servants placed food and drink in front of him, but otherwise went about their chores. Dawn had fallen back asleep and to make certain he would not disturb her again, he had dressed and left their bedchamber. She was just too damn tempting not to touch, and he had already touched her enough this morning.
He drank the hot cider, but pushed the bowl of porridge away. He was not hungry. He had too much on his mind. Wintra was a stubborn one, much like himself, but there had always been a time when she would listen or at least talk with him, and he was counting on that time to come again.