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He wants to see my reaction to his body.
She laid her cheek against the black curls on his broad chest, gasping at their softness. Her fingertips caressed the chiseled muscles, her thumbs grazed his nipples. He shuddered and she paused to gaze into his smoldering eyes as he stood with legs braced.
She lowered her eyes to his manhood straining against the wool of his leggings. This loving man’s most private part would soon be revealed to her once more. She had longed for it since the stolen glimpse at the lake, but she hesitated, a little afraid.
She untied the bindings of his leggings, hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slowly peeled the garment from his body. Her hair brushed against his swollen phallus. He growled deep in his throat and laid his hands gently on her shoulders. She helped him free one foot then the other from the leggings. His toes were long, the nails beautifully manicured. Her breasts swelled, the linen of her chemise chafing the hardened nipples.
“Blythe,” he whispered.
His seductive voice struck a chord of longing deep within. She rose and looked upon his nakedness. “You’re a golden god,” she whispered, awed by the sheer size of him as he stood before her proudly, his eyes burning into hers. She frowned when she noticed something she hadn’t seen in the twilight by the lake—a thin, white scar that ran from navel to groin. The blade had come dangerously close to his impressive manhood.
He held out his hands. “Do you like what you see?”
Scarcely able to breathe, she traced the length of his erection with one fingertip, wanting to remember the moment forever. “Dieter, you’re magnificent. It’s been worth the wait.” She touched the faint scar. “This isn’t where the emperor’s assassin wounded you.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Nein, that is a memento from Fredericka.”
Bile rose in Blythe’s throat. “She did this to you?”
“She was determined to unman me.”
Blythe did the only thing she could think of to ease the pain a madwoman had inflicted upon him. She licked Fredericka’s mark, trying to erase it from his body. “Make love to me, Dieter. Make me a woman.”
He took her hand and placed it firmly on his shaft. “You’re already a woman, Blythe. This night, I’ll make you my woman.”
His elegant hands disrobed her quickly and the blue and cerise silk lay in a puddle at her feet. The heat of his gaze stoked the fires raging in her body.
“Touch me again, Blythe, put your hands on me.”
“Your skin is soft, Dieter,” she murmured, wrapping her fingers around the thick length. “You’re so—large—and full.”
“Move on me,” he whispered, breathing hard and grazing his chin against her face. “You know what’s going to happen soon, liebling? You know we’ll join our bodies?”
“Yes, Dieter, I know. My mother prepared me for this night. It’s just that, er…I didn’t realize a man’s…”
He put a forefinger on her lips. “Hush, sweetheart. I’ll ready you. It might be painful the first time, but you’re a passionate woman, you’ll triumph over the discomfort and carry us both to ecstasy.”
He lifted her onto the big feather bed.
Her body was on fire. She responded to the urge for this man to possess her, her legs falling open when his mouth found her nipples and suckled. His lazy fingers trailed down her belly, finally finding the private place that longed for his touch. Spasm after spasm of pure delight tore through her as he caressed her most intimate folds. She fell under his spell, murmuring his name over and over.
“Blythe, my Blythe,” he whispered, “I’ve longed to make you mine. I need to come inside you now. Are you ready to welcome me?”
“Now, Dieter, now, now, now.”
He knelt between her legs, nudged them further apart and guided his manhood into her opening.
“Look into my eyes, Blythe,” he commanded as he thrust home.
She could not tear her gaze away from his as the pain came and went, but the urge went on—and on—and on, until finally she soared on clouds of bliss.
He cried out his euphoria as waves of pleasure swept over them.
Blythe sent a silent prayer of thanks to her mother, who had been right all along.
* * *
Dieter watched his wife sleep. He had never ached so unbearably for a woman. It had been difficult enough concealing his rock-hard erections when he thought Blythe would never care for him. Now, he seemed to have no control at all over his rute.
Blythe’s sensuous innocence sent his senses reeling every time he looked at her. The desire in her eyes had promised, and delivered, a physical joining that exceeded all expectations, and his expectations had been high. He was a man of action, a warrior who was proud of his body. Women were attracted to him, and he enjoyed their company, but Fredericka had stolen any desire to remarry. The realization he had found a deep love made him giddy.
Yet, when he’d stood under Blythe’s burning gaze in their marriage chamber, he felt unexpectedly unsure. Despite her passionate nature, she was an innocent. Would his size frighten her? Would he please her?
Subjecting himself to her slow undressing was a torture that inflamed him more, the scent of her female arousal filling his nostrils. It was her right to know about the scar. He shuddered at the memory of how close a raving Fredericka had come to unmanning him. But Blythe’s reaction had been to lick him. He had almost lost control, dragged her to the bed, fallen atop her and plunged into her depths like a wild thing.
The whisper of the silk gown sliding off her body fanned the flames burning in his loins. He had dreamed of her breasts, of her body, but nothing had prepared him for the sight of her lovely nudity.
He recalled his anger over the botched kidnapping, realizing now God had smiled on him that day. A remarkable woman had come into his life, a woman who ran her fingertips over his body, over his maleness, savoring her exploration. What a contradiction she was—naive, yet knowing. Her mother had prepared her for their union and he sent a silent prayer of thanks to the mother-by-marriage he had never met. Sir Caedmon was a fortunate man. Dieter’s bride had not been fearful. The gleam in her eyes had betrayed her joyful anticipation. How many new brides insisted on undressing their husbands first? He had never basked in the glow of such admiration.
He rejoiced at the memory of the warm wetness of her intimate folds on his fingers. The ecstasy on her face when she released humbled him. She was tight as he slid into her, but as their gazes locked he watched passion triumph over pain, her contractions pulsating on him as she climaxed again. When his seed erupted inside her, the breath rushed from his lungs. He hoped Blythe’s father had not heard his guttural cry of euphoria.
