Bliss(30)
Author: Lynsay Sands

Hethe looked puzzled for a moment, then shook his head and shrugged. "William is always with me. He is my first."

"Aye, but – "

"Besides, he does not have the patience to be a chatelain. He is already growing restless here, and after only a few days. This little trip might perk him up some."

Helen accepted his words silently, then said, "Do you not think we might do better to wait another day or two before going?"

"Wait?" Hethe frowned.

"Aye. It would give your ankle more of a chance to heal before the journey, and perhaps Stephen will return in that time."

He considered that briefly, then said, "But you only have two gowns."

"Hmmm. That is a problem," she agreed solemnly. "I suppose I shall just have to wear them as little as possible." Meeting his gaze, she gave him a shy smile, then winked.

Hethe’s eyes widened incredulously. "Was that… Did you just – " He took in her blushing cheeks and paused. She had. His wife was flirting with him. Throwing sexual taunts his way. Damn, he thought with amazement. Maybe this marriage would work out. Perhaps the unfortunate beginning they had known would give way to a successful union. If she turned all of that passion and creativity she had used to torture him toward finding ways to please him… The very idea aroused him.

"I believe I am swelling again," he announced abruptly, almost smiling when her blush receded and concern at once spread on her face. He felt anticipation rise within him as she quickly set her sewing aside, got to her feet and moved to bend over his leg resting on the chest.

"Are you sure? Is it sore?" she asked, peering at his hurt leg. "I can get Mary and see if she – "

Her words died on a startled gasp as Hethe grabbed her by the h*ps and pulled her into his lap. "Mary can’t help me. It was Wee Hethe I was speaking of."

"Wee Hethe?" She peered at him with confusion even as she struggled to get off of him, then suddenly stilled as he shifted beneath her, pressing the swollen appendage in question against her bottom. Her eyes rounded, her earlier blush returning in full force. "You mean… ?"

"Aye." Hethe wasn’t surprised to hear the huskiness now in his voice. "Aye. Just thinking about you being nak*d for the next few days has me swelling to painful proportions. And I fear only you have the cure for that."

"I see."

Much to Hethe’s pleasure, his wife’s voice was now as husky as his own, and there was a fire coming to life in her eyes that made his mouth dry with anticipation. She settled into his lap, then reached out a tentative hand to caress his cheek.

"Would a kiss help, do you think, my lord husband?"

"I do not know. Why do you not try and see?" Hethe murmured the words into the palm of her hand, delighted when she turned his face and leaned forward to kiss him. Despite her blushes and tentative touch, this was no demure kiss. While she was not yet skilled at pleasuring him with her mouth in other areas, as her sweetly clumsy attempts that morning had proved, his wife had definitely got the hang of kissing. She laved his mouth, then when he opened to her, let her tongue slide inside to find his.

Aye, she definitely had learned well there. Within moments, she had him panting and kissing her back with an excitement that Wee Hethe’s amazing growth was proving. And he, himself, wasn’t the only one affected. Helen was moaning and making sounds deep in her throat, her body shifting and rubbing against his in ways that were increasing his swelling tenfold.

Eager to see if she was as affected, Hethe slid a hand under his wife’s skirts and quickly up her leg, ignoring her startled jerk. When she broke their kiss in protest and turned her head away, he merely let his lips trail over her cheek and ear as his fingers continued up her thigh.

"Husband, I do not think –  Oh." She stiffened even further as he reached the apex of her thighs, the arm she had wrapped around his shoulders tightening convulsively. The hand she had used to try to stop him, grabbing at his through the material of her skirts, clenched over his, no longer trying to pull away as he found the warm wet depths of her.

Aye, the kisses had excited her as well. And his touch was doing even more. She turned her head back and caught his lips again, kissing him almost desperately. Satisfaction rose within him at the knowledge of how he affected her, but that was quickly nudged aside by an eagerness to do more. He wanted to be inside her and briefly considered shifting her to straddle him so that he could have her right there, but the great hall would not afford the privacy he needed for all the things he wanted to do.

They would have to adjourn upstairs. But even as he thought that, he slid a finger inside her, smiling against her mouth when she clenched her legs around his hand and arched into the action. She was making little strangled sounds of pleasure in her throat, and they were exciting him, he nearly spilled himself where he sat as she suddenly pulled her mouth away and bit desperately into his shoulder, shifting on his lap so that she could find and press one hand against his manhood through his clothes.

"Upstairs." Hethe gasped, feeling complete sympathy with her when she groaned in disappointment. He retrieved his hand from between her legs, knowing he should have stopped it sooner, should have made the suggestion they move when they had first kissed. But they would go there now. Urging her off his lap, he got to his feet, wincing as he forgot his injury and set his weight on it.

Helen, of course, did not miss the look. She became concerned at once, some of the passion leaving her face. "Maybe we should – "

"Upstairs," he said firmly, turning her in that direction. Still, she hesitated.

"Mayhap we should have William come help you up the stairs," she suggested anxiously, and Hethe felt his pride stung a bit at the suggestion that he needed assistance like an old man.

"I can manage," he said testily. She didn’t look wholly convinced, but she didn’t argue further. Instead, she took his arm with the intention of helping him, but Hethe shook off her hand and took her arm instead. He was a man, a warrior. He didn’t need help. And to prove it, he made sure to support her arm rather than lean on it as he hopped quickly to the steps.

They managed the stairs and had reached the door to the master bedchamber when Hethe lost his balance. Helen shifted to try to save him, but ended up being trapped between his solid weight and the wooden planks of the door.

Hethe rested against her briefly, then gave a breathless laugh. "This is right where I wanted you.

Almost."

Lifting his head, he peered down into her face and found himself touched by the concern in her eyes.

There had been points during these last many days when he had doubted that he would ever see such a tender feeling for him in her eyes.

Swooping down, he caught her lips with his own in a passionate kiss that revealed that his earlier intentions were still alive and well, despite their most unromantic hopping trip up here. He wished he could sweep Helen up in his arms and carry her to their bed, but he knew that was beyond his abilities at the moment. Straightening, he pulled her away with one hand, reaching past with the other to open the door at the same time. Helen started for the bed the moment he released her, but Hethe had different ideas. He hopped to the chair by the fire.

"What are you doing?"

Pausing before the chair, he leaned against it briefly to catch his breath, then turned to face her as he removed his tunic. "Come here."

His wife watched the garment hit the floor, confusion on her face, but came forward as he ordered.

Pausing before Hethe, she watched curiously as he undid the tie of his breeches. When he moved to push them down, she knelt to accomplish the task for him. The moment he was free of the material, he sank into the chair and gestured for her to move between his spread legs.

Smiling at her continued bewilderment, he quickly undid the ties of her gown, then pulled the loosened material down over her shoulders. A sigh of pleasure slid from his lips as the fabric dropped to hang around her waist, leaving her sweet, firm breast bared to his eyes.

"Should we not move to the bed, my lord?"

Hethe grinned. While the question sounded uncertain, her voice was again becoming strained with passion. Reaching out with both hands, he covered her br**sts. They were warm and round in his hands, a pleasure to touch. Much to his gratification, she responded at once, her breath catching in her throat, and her n**ples hardening under his palm even as she arched forward. She allowed him to fondle her briefly, then bent, seeking his lips with hers, her hands clasping his shoulders for balance as she showed him her excitement. She was aroused, but not as frantic as she had been in the great hall, and Hethe would settle for nothing less.

Releasing her breast, he clasped her by the waist and tugged her down to kneel on the chair, so that she was straddling him with his manhood pressed flat between them. Then he kissed her. He felt her hands slide up over his shoulders and smiled against her lips as her small fingers delved into his hair, brushing the nape of his neck, his skull, then along the back of his ears.

Tearing his lips away from hers, Hethe pressed kisses along her neck, then urged her up so that he could catch one rigid nipple in his mouth. She was moaning again, her hands clasping his head and holding him close as he laved her silky skin. Reaching between them, he began to fondle her as he had in the great hall, caressing the nub at the center of her excitement with his thumb, sliding a finger into her.

It was apparently too much for Helen for, pulling her breast free of his mouth, she sat abruptly on his lap, then shifted herself and reached between them until she found Wee Hethe. In the next moment she had impaled herself on him.

Hethe clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed as her flesh closed hot and slick over him, her muscles tightening around him in a glorious embrace. A moment later, he grasped her h*ps and helped direct her as she rode him until they both found glorious satisfaction.

Chapter Seventeen

They waited several days for Hethe’s leg to heal before they headed to Tiernay. Stephen, however, did not return.

Helen and Hethe spent the time getting to know each other better. They played chess, made love, talked, made love, argued, made love. Hethe caught up on events at Holden with his steward. Helen got to know the household staff. William grew more impatient and eager to leave, but, by the time they left, the rest of the people of Holden were starting to relax around their lord and lady. They had begun looking less tense, and there had even been a tentative smile or two, Helen thought with satisfaction as they entered the gates of Tiernay and rode across the bailey.

They had just reached the foot of the steps when the keep doors flew open and Aunt Nell and Ducky stepped out.

"Child!"

Helen grimaced at her aunt’s shriek and quickly dismounted as the woman raced down the stairs toward her with the maid hard on her heels. She managed to get her feet on the ground and turn just in time to be captured by the two women and nearly squeezed to unconsciousness by their hugs as they cried out their relief and pleasure at seeing her. She had been gone for less than a week, but she would have thought that she had been away for years. Or that they had not expected to ever see her again.

Helen glanced apologetically toward Hethe, embarrassed on his behalf for the evil thoughts the women had obviously been harboring, but he was only shaking his head, looking a touch amused. Which was a pleasant change from the pained face he had worn throughout the last part of the trip here. The ride had not been kind to him. It was impossible to ride a horse without being jostled and bounced about. Hethe’s ankle had begun to pain him during the last part of the way here, she knew, though he had been too proud to say.

"You look well," her aunt said, drawing Helen’s arm through her own and urging her up the stairs as Hethe dismounted and directed the stablehands as to the care of their horses. Nell’s obvious amazement at her health only verified Helen’s suspicions that the woman had been imagining all sorts of awful ways the Hammer had been punishing her for their earlier high jinks.

"Aye," she admitted, then grinned. "I am very well."

"Do tell." Aunt Nell’s eyes widened with interest, then she asked in a quiet voice for only Helen and Ducky to hear, "I take it there is still the possibility of an annulment, then?"

"Oh, nay." Helen blushed bright red.

Her aunt glanced at her sharply, then, "Nay?" she and Ducky gasped together. Helen grimaced.

"There is much for me to explain. But – " Turning back, she glanced at her husband with concern as he limped toward the stairs, William at his side.

"What happened? Did you do that to him?"

"Ducky!" Helen gasped, shocked that the maid might even think such a thing. Then she remembered…

"Nay, of course not. He had an accident."

"Hmmmph." Aunt Nell shook her head, then again took her niece’s arm to urge her forward once more.

Hethe and William started up the steps behind them. "Come, you had best tell us what is about, and if there is anything special we needs must do."

Helen grimaced at that, knowing that by "special" her aunt meant things like befoul the food or flea-bait Hethe’s bed. Which was no longer necessary, of course. In fact, she was now aware that it hadn’t been necessary to begin with. It had been fun, though, she though, then smiled as her aunt pushed her into the keep.

"My, my, my," her aunt commented as they approached the trestle tables. "There must be a lot for you to explain. That is a terribly happy smile. I take it the man is kinder in the bedchamber than he is as a lord?"

Helen’s jaw dropped at her aunt’s crudeness. "I cannot believe you said that."

"Aye, well, I shall say a lot more, should you not soon explain what is about. Only days ago you were nearly kicking and screaming as Lord Templetun dragged you out of here. I have been worrying ever since. Now you return looking like the cat who ate the cream."

"Lord Hethe did not order any of the punishments the people of Holden have suffered these last five years," Helen announced abruptly to prevent her aunt from speculating on the carnal origins of her change in mood.