Bliss(40)
Author: Lynsay Sands

He made love to her in the open air with a passion that had not waned during the entire last year. If anything, their need for each other only seemed to increase with time. With each day, they learned more about each other and about how to pleasure one another.

When it was over, they lay entwined as they recovered. Helen rolled onto her back and peered up at the sky, watching the clouds drift by. She saw one that looked like a bird, another a dog. Then she spotted one that reminded her of the skinny, spindly Lord Templetun, and she grinned.

"What are you smiling about?"

Rolling back toward him, she rested her chin on his chest. "I was just thinking of Templetun’s visit."

Hethe grunted at the mention of the name. The man’s temporary position as the king’s chaplain had ended some weeks ago. Henry’s usual man had recovered from his ailment and was back at his sovereign’s side. Templetun had stopped in on his way home to see them and whine about the unfairness of the situation. While the king had been pleased at first with the way things had worked out between Hethe and Helen, he had lost some of his appreciation once he realized what it had cost him.

Oh, aye, he was no longer pestered with their mutual complaints, but he also no longer had Hethe at his beck and call, eager to aid him in battle. Once he had realized such was the case, Henry had been furious, and had known just where to lay the blame. He had made Templetun’s life miserable those last few months of service, which Templetun had thought terribly unfair.

"The irritating clodpole," Hethe muttered, and Helen glanced at him in surprise.

"Do not be so mean, Hethe. Were it not for Templetun, we should not have married."

"Ha! I would have found my way to you eventually," he said firmly. Her husband was unwilling to give the old man any credit. Especially not for giving him Helen, the greatest gift he said he had ever received.

He shifted impatiently. "Besides, when he was here, the man had the nerve to ask me to return to battle so that the king would not be so irate."

"What?" she asked, dismayed. "You did not agree, did you?"

"Of course not." He frowned, which made her feel better. Still, she realized that this year had not made her forget the day he had ridden away, determined to flee once again to battle.

"Helen," he said gently. "I have told you; I have no interest in living like that anymore. I shall serve my time under the king as everyone must, but that is all." He ran a finger lightly over the furrows on her forehead, gently smoothing them out. "I told you. I am content here with you. I will not be running away anymore. I have a home now."

"You have two," she corrected.

"Nay. I have one. Wherever you are. And it would be useless to try to run away from that home, because I carry you in my heart." With those words, the last of her doubts dropped away. She relaxed, a smile beaming across her face, and she hugged him tightly.

"I am glad, husband."

"Are you?" he murmured, running his fingers lightly through her hair.

"Aye. Because if you did ever try to run away again, I would have to hunt you down, drag you back, and chain you to our bed."

Hethe grinned at the threat, then teased, "And torture me with garlic? Or have Joan give me a potion to make me sleep?"

Helen made a face at his words and shifted to lie on her side, her head in the crook of his arm so that she could run her fingers lightly over his chest. "Neither, my lord. That garlic was torture to myself as well, and sleeping would make you useless to me." She emphasized that statement by reaching down to grasp his manhood. Much to her surprise, while Wee Hethe did show signs of reawakening at her touch, large Hethe’s response was to laugh. She tipped her face up to peer at him questioningly and he hugged her tightly, a softness in his eyes as he stared down at her.

"Do you know, I think the day the king decided we should marry was the luckiest day of my life?"

"Mine, too." Helen said softly, a smile widening her lips.

"You didn’t think so at first," he countered. "Unless having Goliath hump me was your way of showing affection."

Helen laughed merrily as she recalled that day, then quickly sat up to climb onto his lap. Once straddling his hips, she pushed her golden hair back behind her ears and smiled at him slyly before asking, "How else would the Tyrant of Tiernay show her affection?"

Hethe gaped. "You knew what we called you?"

"Of course, I knew." Helen laughed at his surprise and shifted herself to slide against his stiffening manhood. "What I didn’t know was that being married to the Hammer of Holden would be so…"

She let the words trail off, looking thoughtful, and Hethe prompted, "So what ?"

"Well." Helen turned her gaze back to his and shrugged. "Let us just say that I thought there would be a little more hammering." She thrust against him abruptly to let him know what sort of hammering she was speaking of.

A laugh slipped from Hethe’s lips and he reached up to clasp her br**sts. "Do you know, wife, I have found that there are definite benefits to having a tyrant for a wife," he announced. Rolling her onto her back under the shade of the tree, he proceeded to show her just what some of those benefits were.

THE END