middle of the night he suddenly kissed her, thrusting his tongue roughly into her mouth, grasping her breast with one big hand. She felt his erection as he rubbed up against her clumsily. For a moment she was bewildered. He could have her whatever way he wanted, but it was unlike him to be anything but gentle. She put her hand to his groin and grasped his penis, which was sticking out through the slit in his underdrawers. Then, just as suddenly, he turned away and lay on his back, breathing rhythmically, and she realized that he had never woken up, but had touched her in a dream. He was undoubtedly dreaming of Annet, she realized ruefully.
She did not sleep, but she daydreamed. She imagined him introducing her to a stranger, saying: "This is my wife, Gwenda." She saw herself pregnant, but still working in the fields, and fainting in the middle of the day; and in her fantasy he picked her up and carried her home, and bathed her face with cold water. She saw him as an old man, playing with their grandchildren, indulging them, giving them apples and honeycombs.
Grandchildren? she thought wryly. It was a big edifice to build on the strength of his allowing her to put her arm around him while he cried himself to sleep.
When she was thinking that it must be almost dawn, and her stay in paradise might soon be over, he begin to stir. His breathing changed. He rolled on to his back. Her arm fell across his chest and she left it there, tucking her hand under his arm. After a few moments she sensed that he was awake, thinking. She lay still, afraid that if she spoke or moved she would break the spell.
Eventually he rolled back towards her. He put his arm around her, and she felt his hand on the bare skin of her back. He stroked her there, but she did not know what the caress meant: he seemed to be exploring, surprised to find that she was naked. His hand went up to her neck and all the way down to the curve of her hip.
At last he spoke. As if afraid of being overheard, he whispered: "She married him."
Gwenda whispered back: "Yes."
"Her love is weak."
"True love is never weak."
His hand remained on her hip, maddeningly close to the places where she wanted him to touch her.
He said: "Will I ever stop loving her?"
Gwenda took his hand and moved it. "She has two breasts, like these," she said, still whispering. She did not know why she did it: intuition was guiding her, and she followed it for good or ill.
He groaned, and she felt his hand close gently over one, then the other.
"And she has hair down here, like this," she said, moving his hand again. His breathing became faster. Leaving his hand there, she explored his body beneath his wool shift, and found that he had an erection. She grasped it and said: "Her hand feels just like this." He began to move his hips rhythmically.
She suddenly felt afraid that the act would be over before it was fully consummated. She did not want that. It was all or nothing now. She pushed him gently on to his back, then quickly raised herself and straddled him. "Inside, she's hot and wet," she said, and she lowered herself on to him. Although she had done it before, it had not been anything like this; she felt filled up and yet she wanted more. She moved down against the thrust of his hips, then up as he withdrew. She lowered her face to his and kissed his bearded mouth.
He held her head in his hands and kissed her back.
"She loves you," Gwenda whispered to him. "She loves you so much."
He cried out with passion, and she was rocked up and down, riding his hips like a wild pony, until at last she felt him come inside her, and he gave one last cry, then said: "Oh, I love you too! I love you, Annet!"
Chapter 28
Wulfric went back to sleep, but Gwenda lay awake. She was too excited to sleep. She had won his love - she knew it. It hardly mattered that she had had to half pretend to be Annet. He had made love to her with such hunger, and had kissed her afterwards with such tenderness and gratitude, that she felt he was hers for ever.
When her heart stopped racing and