Godiva: Unbridled (8 page)

“Now, you dip your fingers in, and get a nice little scoop there, on your fingertips. There you go. Now… rub it into the hair, just right there, above the thigh. Mustn’t get too ambitious. Slowly, slowly. See how nice and slippery that is? All right. Now, you hold the skin tight, like this,” Thomas reached down, held the skin of his thigh taut, and scraped the sharpened shell along the growth of hair. It disappeared in a clean swipe, and he reached to swish the edge in the basin of water. He repeated this a couple of times as the Lady May watched, transfixed, and then he handed the shell to her.

“Just do it like I showed you,” he instructed.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, suddenly worried that he skill wouldn’t be up to this delicate task.

“I trust you completely,” he replied.

She looked down, rubbed the slippery, shiny soap into his hair and held the shell exactly as he’d shown her. In a precise scrape, she sheared off a swatch of hair, and noticed that now that she was the one doing the shaving, his softened sex was beginning to stir. Focusing totally on the sharpened edge, she continued her handiwork with the seashell, scraping off all the hair from base to thigh, until he was as bare as she. Afterward, she held the heated cloth against his sensitive skin, remembering how that had felt for her the first time he’d pressed the hot, damp cloth against her, how it tingled and warmed her to the core. Beneath the cloth, his shaft stood fully erect now, brought to life from her gentle touches and movements as she manipulated around it to shave him clean.

She trailed her fingers lightly over the smooth surface of his skin, from the sparsely haired inside of his thigh to the spot where he became silky and smooth. The cloth had lost its warmth, and she removed it, revealing his rock-hard member, standing stiff along his belly. It looked long and thick, so proud and almost on display now that it was cleared of all that hairy distraction. A curve in the shaft made it arc just slightly inward, as though it pointed toward his muscular stomach, and the tight bulb at the base of him seemed full, like an inflated ball. A low groan escaped his lips at her caress, exploring this new version of a man, soft and sleek yet undeniably masculine and powerful. He smelled slightly of citrus, the scent from the soap lingering on his skin. She bent her head to inhale the fragrance, all at once clean and sweet but mixed with his own smell that she had grown familiar with. So captivated by the softness of his skin, she examined it up close, and found her lips longing to kiss him. She pressed her mouth against his lower pelvis, felt the bulging weight of him against her nose. Under her lips, his skin felt warm and soft, and she kissed all over the area that she’d shaven. Her cheek slid along the side of his hardness, her long hair falling all around his naked belly as she moved across him. Moving her hands up, she cupped her palm against where his legs met, gently tickling him as she kissed and playfully licked him. His hips moved toward her, in need, in offering. She planted a feathery trail of kisses along his straining shaft, starting at the bottom, working toward the tip and she had a curious thought as to whether this was natural behavior the way they had been acting. From deep within though, she wanted to taste him as he’d tasted her, wanted to pleasure him in the same way, share the vulnerability of trust. She wrapped a gentle fist around him, slid her hand up and down a few tentative times then finally enclosed her lips around the swollen tip of him, moving her hand rhythmically as she took him into her mouth.

Another breathy moan escaped his lips and his fingers wove into her hair, caressing the back of her neck, her scalp, as she moved. She listened to him, watched how he reacted as she slid his hardness in and out of her lips, mimicking the movements that she might make if she were actually making love with him. The taut smoothness of his shaft felt strange and invasive in her mouth, but as she looked up to see the pure ecstasy and joy her sucking and licking were bringing him, it fueled her, brought her a new kind of pleasure and power of her own. A sticky, salty droplet leaked from him, and she swirled her tongue around the swollen tip, watching his reaction. Slack jawed, he seemed so relaxed, yet so intensely pleasured. His eyes opened, looked down to where she knelt, watching her, and his hands moved from her head to gently caress her back.

“Come here, my beauty,” he said, his voice rough and low. She smiled slyly, closed her eyes and plunged her mouth over him, lips and tongue working together to control him, and another unchecked groan growled from his throat, more sticky, salty drops leaked willfully onto her tongue.

“No, no my darling, please…” he gently pushed her head away from him, guided his hand to her shoulder, while the other reached to remove her fist from his stiff shaft. “Please,” he repeated. “I want to join with you. If you continue what you’re doing now, I’ll have no control and I want to feel you next to me. Come make love to me.” His eyes, so sincere, they beckoned with not just his lusty will but with his heart. She allowed him to pull her up, unfolding against his hard, naked body, her own nakedness soft and supple, melting against him. Instinctively, her legs moved astride him, and he pulled her into his lap, where she realized how she was once again slippery from her own want of him. Their bodies connected, and she surrendered her control, allowing him to move her hips, position her on him, slide easily into her heated depths. She shuddered and sighed, full, complete, wrapped her arms around his sturdy neck and fell totally into his kiss. Under her bottom, his palms moved her, and she thrust in time with his guidance, already feeling the tightening of her inner walls, coaxing him, willing him toward release. After a time her inner thighs felt weak, but her passion drove her, the deep touch of his hardness tickling against a spot inside that made her continue, his own pace quickening, deepening. And suddenly he broke from their kiss, his head flung back, and pressed her tightly against him, grinding up inside her, fingers squeezing tightly on her bottom, and he cried out as his shaft thumped and twitched inside her. This triggered something within, and she felt her own body respond, her nether lips gripping him, insides convulsing, her body stilling as she cried out as well.

Exhausted, she collapsed against him, clutching him as she quivered, legs spent and unable to support her. He stood, carried her against him, both their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. They kissed as he passed through the curtain, walked the short distance to the bed and laid her down, lowering himself next to her. Long wisps of her hair stuck to her forehead, and he pushed them away, watching her intently as they both caught their breath. She stared back drowsily, returning his contented gaze.

“I’ve a confession,” he whispered, reaching for her hand, kissing the knuckles as he twined his fingers with hers. She laughed softly.

“Really? Are you sure this is the right time for confessions?” His gaze didn’t change, he still stared deeply into her eyes.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, my lady,” he said. His words ebbed through her chest, warmed her deep inside. But her mind was clear even in the hazy aftermath of their lovemaking.

“Are you certain this isn’t just the earthly pleasures speaking? Lust and passion are powerful forces.”

“I cannot deny my lust for you, or that your beauty captivates me. But what I love is more than that. It is how you love. How you love Niklada, how you helped with the lamb tonight. Your love of the garden and for the food it gives. If you love me someday, I hope it will be open and unashamed, like that.”

“And how do you know I don’t love you already?” He shook his head, but not sadly.

“No, ‘tis important that you know yourself first. Rediscover who you are. Then they’ll be time to find love with me. If I’m still to your liking, when you do.”

She ran her fingers over the swell of his bicep, then looked up to him in the flickering light of the lantern by the bed and wrapped her arm across his chest. “Good night, Thomas,” she whispered, squeezing him tightly.

Chapter 11

The Earl stared at his calendar, his brow set in a perpetual scowl. Two weeks had passed since his wife had disappeared, and he had given up looking for her, knowing that he had to keep his search utterly discreet, and knowing that by doing so, he would have almost no way of figuring out where she was hiding. He’d played over their last argument in his mind a hundred times and he felt certain that she would appear on the designated day, the fifth of June, naked as the day she was born and riding her ever-present horse. He’d made a formal announcement; that would show her his expectation for her to follow through. That he’d ordered the town’s windows to be shuttered was a strategy which would accomplish two things; his wife would retain a semblance of modesty, and nobody would be able to see the men at the edge of the town who would escort her home, in the event that she attempted to run away again. The Earl was through with her childish antics. It was one thing to voice her stubborn opinion on the matter of taxes. And if she showed up for her bare protest, he would keep his word and abolish the taxes. But he would also teach her a lesson on how those taxes help her to afford the life she enjoys, all the modern conveniences and the comforts of the manor. The Earl figured that it was about time that she became a mother, also. A baby would keep her attention, so he would see to it that this was accomplished as quickly as nature would allow. Then maybe his life could get back to normal, and she wouldn’t be paying so much attention to the taxes and affairs that the wife of an Earl shouldn’t be involving herself in at any rate. William, his valet and closest man, and Leofric, his brother, walked into the room just then, with a drawing of the town. William rolled it out on the desk in front of the Earl and pointed to the places he’d marked.

“Depending on what end of town she enters from, we can have men stationed at different places,” William said. “If she comes in from the south, we can have cover behind the bakery and there’s room enough to conceal horses. If she comes from the north, it’s a bit trickier. We’ll have men at the side of the tailor’s shop but there’s no place to hide any horses. Good thing about that is that the tailor’s still out of town, so his shop’s closed. Might not be anyone around to see if we have horses around back if you wanted to try that.”

“No, it won’t be necessary,” the Earl said, eyeing the map. “The town is small, and this shouldn’t be a problem. I’m sure she’ll be more than ready to come back home. This is just in case she’s decided to carry her protest a little further. Clearly, she’s attempting to assert her independence and show that she holds true to her convictions. Once she proves her point, all should be settled. A man at each end of town serves merely as an escort. Be certain that each of the men stationed has a cloak to wrap her in. It would be just like her to not bring anything to clothe herself in after this stunt is completed.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“However, to ensure that things don’t get out of hand, I’d like to commission Gustof,” the Earl said, speaking slowly.

“Gustof?” Leofric scoffed, and William shifted uneasily. “We aren’t dealing with a criminal here. It’s Godiva, Edwin. You don’t need a warrior to rein her in.”

“Well apparently I might,” Edwin said, shooting a glare to his brother. “She’s gone missing for two weeks. Do you know where she’s been staying?” Leofric looked at Edwin as though he were mad and scoffed again.

“Have you lost your sense of reason?” he said.

“Well, she always did enjoy wandering around those abbeys with you and looking at those painted books. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was cloistered with the rest of the monks, someplace in their hallowed halls.”

“Edwin, do not abandon your morals for your pride. Your wife has run away because you do not let her breathe! You do not listen to her thoughts and ideas. Consider that, if you get her back.”

“There is no ‘if’ Leofric.” Fury burned behind Edwin’s eyes as he spoke. “And you will remember your place, brother. You will not question my methods, nor will you make a judgment on how I choose to deal with Godiva. After tomorrow this will all be an unfortunate page in history. One that we will never speak of again.”

Leofric cast his gaze to the floor, clenching his jaw tightly. Why hadn’t Godiva told him of her intention to flee? How many years had it been since they dreamed of riding together, free and wild over the hills? Now she had no idea of the brewing fury she’d set off inside her jilted husband, and the lengths he was about to go to in order to get her back. Before the temptation to engage further with his brother overcame him, Leofric turned on his heels and left the room, leaving William to handle the details of Edwin’s calculated plan.

Chapter 12

The days passed, slow and lazy, the two lovers falling into a happy routine of work and pleasures, simple meals and the insatiable desire they held for one another. Thomas continued to go into town but May still hadn’t quite gotten the courage but on one trip back he brought a length of fabric that he quickly fashioned into a skirt for her, which helped to give her a sense of normalcy as well as keeping her warm. At night though, she preferred to sleep nude, drifting off in Thomas’s embrace after he’d loved her, and available for the occasions when they would awaken in the middle of the night, bodies perpetually at the ready to join in midnight passions. Over the weeks her body had healed, grown strong, and although her memories and dreams still stayed just out of her grasp, she was beginning to accept that perhaps what she left behind wasn’t meant to be recalled. Most of the time she enjoyed contentment and calm.

On one particular morning, the Lady May lay sprawled across the bed, body still tingling from the aftereffect of their lovemaking. She looked over at Thomas where he lay, clasping her hand in his, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger and watching her. Content from their breakfast of fresh strawberries and toasted bread, she felt drowsy despite a full night of peaceful slumber. The sun had already risen, and the animals were getting restless. From the other side of the barn, the fluttering of feathers sounded, flustered clucking followed, and a chicken flew up to perch on the side of the wooden fence that divided the stables from the rest of the barn. She looked right over to the bed, clucking impatiently and flapped her wings. The cow mooed, and the sheep chimed in right after. Thomas laughed.