Joanna was sitting up, no longer being as careful of the sheet’s slippage. “This is where a modest, demure young woman would blush and dutifully avert her eyes, having been taught that it is not seemly to look upon male nudity. Alas, I am not particularly modest, not at all demure, and dutiful only on occasion.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” he said, with a laugh that was muffled as he pulled his tunic over his head. His chausses and shoes were already off, and his linen shirt soon followed. She knew he’d just celebrated his fortieth birthday that summer, but his body still had the leanness of youth, and she thought he was either very active or just one of those lucky souls who never had to worry about putting on weight. His skin was dark and smooth, unmarred by the battle wounds that so many men proudly flaunted, although she did see one thin white scar along the outer side of his right thigh. She yearned to touch it, to trace its path with caressing fingers, but then the scar was forgotten as he slid his braies down over his hips.
Joanna’s eyes opened wide. “Oh my!”
He grinned, glancing down at his erection. “And to think I’ve not yet seen you naked, love. But Luc needs very little encouragement, always ready for action.”
Joanna gave a surprised lilt of laughter. “You named it?”
“Why not? One of a man’s most intimate relationships is with his cock. Not only are they constantly urging us to sin, but most women are sure we do our thinking with them, too. Luc is actually named Lucifer, for he has been trying to lure me to Hell since I was a raw lad of thirteen or so.”
By now he was in bed beside her and stopped her laughter with his mouth. It was not their first kiss, for they’d managed to find a few moments of privacy after his arrival at Rouen. But Joanna soon discovered that those quick, stolen kisses were nothing like this, with their bodies entwined, her breasts pressed against his chest, the feeling of his swelling erection on her thigh.
By the time they ended the embrace, they were both breathless. “Luc, meet your new mistress,” he murmured. “Clearly he’s fallen utterly under your thrall, my lady. Be merciful with him.”
Joanna laughed again, amused that he’d be quoting from the troubadours at a moment like this. “I think I am going to enjoy being married to you, Raimond de St Gilles.”
“Of course you will.” He’d begun kissing her throat, lowering his head to her breasts. “Three years is a long time to wait, love. I’ll do my best to avoid racing to the finish line, but you need not fret. If this first time is for me, I promise the second time will be all yours.”
Joanna was not sure what he meant; she was too caught up in what he was doing with his mouth and his hands to pay much heed to his words. She returned his kisses and caresses without shyness, for they were man and wife now, not illicit lovers, and she was soon squirming under him, clinging so tightly that she’d leave scratches on his shoulders. She did not even realize she was crying out his name, aware only of her body’s fevered heat and the urgency of her need.
Raimond knew she was ready, but he still delayed, prolonging the delicious torment until he dared wait no longer. She gasped with his first thrust, shuddering, and he said, “Stay still, love. Wait . . .” Once he was sure he had Luc under control, he began to move slowly then, watching her all the while, for he loved to see a woman yield to passion, sorry that so many of them denied themselves such pleasure, sure it was a forbidden sin that would send them to Hell. Joanna was moaning, tossing her head from side to side on the pillow as his thrusts became faster, deeper. He kissed her again, his mouth hot on hers, and then she convulsed under him and he no longer held back, listening only to his body now until he also cried out and collapsed on top of her.
For a few moments, neither moved, unwilling to break the bond. When he finally raised up and withdrew, she felt bereft. Propping herself up on her elbow, she reached out and traced the curve of his mouth with her finger. “Oh, Raimond . . .” No more than that, but there was no need to say more.
He took her finger in his mouth and gently sucked. “It was not like that with your husband?”
“No . . . I enjoyed sharing his bed, but it was never like that. Why was it so different with you?”