For Love And Honor by Flora Speer

broke
off, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, for she had freed him
and put her hand upon him, rubbing hard.
    “ You
are a stallion,” she
murmured, watching him grow larger beneath her fingers. “A huge,
beautiful stallion.”
    “You should not do this.” It was his last
protest.
    “I want you inside me.” Rage and loss and
grief had brought her to this. There was no other balm for the
bitter wound that had torn open her heart. In Crispin’s arms she
would find forgetfulness and at least a few moments of peace. Still
holding him, she guided him forward. “I want your child, Crispin.
Give me your child.”
    He entered her in a hot, slippery rush, and
she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, and deeper
still. Being Crispin, he could not give her what she craved, could
not be wild and fierce with her until she was completely satisfied.
Being Crispin, he could only be gentle, so that the explosion
inside her, when it came, was gentle, too, and much too brief to
relieve the clamoring need that drove her. When he withdrew from
her she dissolved in tears of frustration.
    Crispin sat on the edge of the bed, shaking
his head at her. She made no move to adjust her clothing, but lay
in the disorder of her crumpled gown with the golden net on her
hair askew.
    “ I never
imagined a gently bred girl would behave in such a way,” he said
stern ly.
    “Don’t be angry with me,” she begged. “When I
heard you had been hurt I was so afraid for you that I was overcome
with joy to see you whole and only bruised a little.”
    “I did not realize you cared for me so much,”
he said. Reaching out in his slow, deliberate way, he placed one
hand on her thigh. “Does this offend you?”
    “No, my lord.” She shifted her legs a little,
allowing him to move his hand higher.
    “If I were to remove my hose completely and
lie on the bed, then you could bathe my knee with your marvelous
herbal water, as well as my ribs and elbow,” he noted.
    “Yes, my lord.” His fingers were edging
higher along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
    “But your gown would soon be dampened.”
    “I can remove it, my lord. And my coif.”
    “ That would be …
more convenient.”
    “Yes, my lord.” Smiling at his solemnity, she
slid off the bed to remove all of her garments.
    “Such dedication to my welfare does you
credit,” he murmured when she returned to him with a wrung-out
cloth in one hand. “I believe you ought to start with my knee and
work your way upward.”
    He said nothing more but lay quietly, letting
her sit beside him and apply the cloth to his knee. When she bent
forward her loosened hair spread across his legs. With both hands
he brushed it back, tucking it behind her ears.
    “I did not know having a wife could be such a
pleasant thing,” he said.
    “I thank you, my lord.” She rose to dip the
cloth into the basin again, pouring more hot water over it from the
pitcher, knowing all the time that he was watching her every
movement, and she wearing no clothing at all. It made her blush to
think of it, the two of them naked in the daylight, yet it was
exciting too. She placed the hot cloth on his knee again. He sighed
deeply.
    “Is it too hot?” she asked. “It did not burn
my hands.”
    “It’s not the heat of the cloth, Joanna.”
    “I can see now you have serious need of my
tender ministrations,” she told him, looking up from his knee to a
spot that plainly throbbed with eagerness for her touch.
    “You called me a stallion,” he said. “Ride
me.”
    With no further touching or caressing,
without even kissing her first, he lifted her, setting her down
hard on top of him. Her eyes went wide. She had not known a man and
woman could come together in this way. His hands were on her hips,
holding her firmly in place.
    “You will have to move,” he said. “I am in
too much pain to help you.”
    “You lie, my lord.” But move she did, though
awkwardly at first, not knowing how to do what he