To Love Again - Bertrice Small [119]
Removing his cloak, he spread it upon the sand for them. Then taking her into his arms, he kissed her softly, lingeringly. When he finally released her, Cailin wordlessly pulled her stola over her head and let the garment drop from her slender fingers. Naked, she stood proudly before him. He responded by removing the long, comfortable tunic he wore within his home, and kicked his sandals off. Then Aspar slipped to his knees before her, drawing her against him, his cheek pressed against her torso.
They embraced quietly for a long moment. Then he began to trace a pattern of warm kisses across her flesh. Cailin sighed softly. His patience and his gentleness always astounded her. How very much she wanted to respond to his loving, but passion, it seemed, was dead, or almost dead within her. The only time she felt the slightest bit of it was when he would tongue her little jewel, but when his manhood lay embedded inside of her, she could feel nothing at all but the thickness of it within her. In an effort to resurrect her passion, she had tried to remember all her times with Wulf Ironfist; but she soon realized that recalling her Saxon husband only seemed to render her body, and soul, colder than before. Several times she had come close to shrieking her frustration and pushing Aspar away because he was not Wulf and could not give her the joy she had once known in her husband’s strong arms. Finally she had dismissed Wulf from her conscious mind while her Byzantine lord made love to her. It was easier that way.
Aspar rubbed his face between her breasts, one hand reaching up to fondle her. “They are like perfect little ivory apples,” he said, his palm cupping the firm flesh and admiring it. Gently, his other hand pressed upon her back, and when she bent slightly, he lifted his head up to suckle upon the nipple. His teeth teased at the sensitive nub, and then his tongue encircled it enticingly before he suckled hard on it again.
“Ahhhhh,” she breathed, her fingers digging lightly into his muscled shoulders. He transferred his attentions to her other breast, his hand kneading and cuddling until she felt as if her breasts would burst with pleasure.
He then pressed the palm of his hand against her Venus mont as he began a leisurely exploration with lips and tongue of her slender torso. Each kiss upon her tingling skin was distinct and individual. His other hand was lightly clasped about her right buttock, the tips of his fingers caressing her. His tongue pushed into her navel, and Cailin murmured softly as it simulated what was to soon come. As if to emphasize the point, he pushed through her nether lips with a single finger and thrust it into her sheath.
Cailin’s head whirled and her knees began to buckle. He felt her weakness, and withdrawing the finger, he pulled her to her knees, facing him. Aspar’s dark eyes locked onto hers as he offered her his finger, running it sensuously over her lips until she opened her mouth and sucked on it, clutching at his hand until he pulled the finger away and caressed her throat. She lowered her head and bit his hand lightly, surprising him, then kissed his knuckles.
Something is different tonight, Cailin thought, and looking up at him, she realized that he could feel it too. She did not dare speak for fear of breaking the spell that seemed to be enfolding them. He took her by the shoulders, and his lips touched hers in what had been meant to be a tender kiss. The kiss, however, deepened quickly, and her mouth opened to take in his tongue, which danced primitively and hotly with hers. Then he was covering her face with kisses again, and Cailin’s head fell back, her neck straining almost desperately as his lips burned their way down the perfumed