throat, arching her body as his other hand began to knead at a breast and he pushed her back against the side of the pool. He ran his tongue over her lips, nibbled at her eyelids, tongued the column of her straining neck. His hand dug into the tightly bunched curls pinned atop her head, and then he groaned as if pained when her body pushed against his lower torso. Her arms slipped about his neck. Cailin, returning his kisses with fervor, realized she had no need to employ Casia’s tricks with Aspar. She felt his hungry arousal against her thigh, pushing, pressing with urgency.
“I want to wait,” he half sobbed, “but I cannot, Cailin!”
“Do not, my lord,” she encouraged him, tightening her hold about his neck as he slid his hands beneath her buttocks and sheathed himself within her passage, sighing with deep relief. He pumped her with long slow strokes of his weapon, and she felt him, hard but loving, within her body. She murmured low as he moved inside her over and over again until he could bear no more and his lover’s tribute exploded in hot bursts of passion that left him weak and Cailin shocked that she had felt nothing but his physical presence. She shuddered, horrified.
Aspar opened his eyes. “What is the matter?” he asked her. “You had no pleasure of it, did you, Cailin? Yet I think I do not displease you, my beauty, do I?” He was free of her body now, and they stood together facing each other, her back still against the bathing pool.
“Is there only pleasure with a husband?” she asked him, honestly confused, and needing desperately to know. “I felt no pleasure when I was forced to couple with Jovian’s trio of Northmen, but I thought it was because I did not love them, because what they were doing to me was wrong. You are not my husband, but you are kind to me. I want to serve you like a wife. Should there not be pleasure then, my lord? You do not repel me! You do not!” Her voice cracked, and she began to weep wildly. “What has happened to me, my lord, that I can feel no pleasure with you?”
He took her in his arms and soothed her as best as he could. He was not a doctor, but he knew that the mind was probably the most powerful weapon that God had ever created. He had seen strange things happen to soldiers in the field, particularly after a cruel battle: Men, normally hardened and fierce, who would break down weeping. Men who could never look at weapons again without breaking into a fit of trembling sweats. Perhaps the brutal savagery Cailin had endured had hurt her in a similar way. He remembered the blank look in her eyes the night he had attended the entertainment at Villa Maxima. She had, in a sense, removed herself from what was going on upon the stage because it was the only way she could survive it.
“What has happened to you since you left Britain has hurt you in some unseen manner,” he told her comfortingly. “If you will trust me, I will help you to heal yourself, my beauty. I very much want you to have the same pleasure of me as I have had of you. Unlike most men of my age, I have a rather unusually large capacity for lovemaking, Cailin. We will continue on until you, too, are pleasured, no matter how long it takes.” He took her hand. “Come now before we are so weakened that we are washed away in this bath.”
He led her from the bathing pool, and they dried each other off. Then, taking her hand again, he brought her to their bedchamber. Cailin was surprised to see that her pretty, narrow little couch had been removed from the dais and pushed against a wall. In its place upon the raised platform was a large striped mattress and several large, colorful pillows. Aspar began kissing her again, and shortly they fell to the bed, their limbs intertwined. The sensation of his body against hers was totally different here than in the bathing pool. He seemed harder.
“Lie still,” he commanded her, and pushing two of the pillows beneath her hips to raise her up, he told her, “I want you to spread your legs wide for me, my beauty,” and when she obeyed him, he leaned forward, gently spread her nether lips