Free The Winds of the Heavens (Sons of Rhodri Medieval Romance Series) by Anna Markland Page A

at her husband, who winked back at her. “Rhun is right. You must learn to do some things for yourself.”
    It broke Rhydderch’s heart to watch his wife grope her way along the walls as she followed Rhun’s voice to her chamber. Wrenching sobs shook her once she got inside. She had probably collapsed on the bed. He sent her maids in to tend to her needs, with strict instructions not to reveal his presence.
    ***
    For a fortnight he watched, a silent sentinel. Isolda struggled with her demons, but he noticed an increased confidence in the way she made her way round the llys . One day she sought out Glain in the still room, and his sister-by-marriage later told him Isolda had touched and smelled several of the herbs and salves. Glain took her to the herb garden and showed her a path where she might walk to a tree and sit on a bench. A few days later she ventured there alone, smiling as she raised her face to the sun. Surely she would hear the thudding of his heart? If Rhydderch couldn’t watch her, Rhun took his place. No injury would befall her.
    Naked and alone in his bed every night, Rhydderch dreamed Isolda came to him and pressed her lithe, warm body against his. The evidence of his erotic dreams was only too plain on the soiled linens each morning. He fell into a fitful sleep on the thirteenth night. Rhun had told Isolda he would return on the morrow.
    Let’s hope she’ll welcome me back! Mayhap she hasn’t missed me.
    Again he dreamed Isolda came to him and pressed her naked body to his. In his dream he cupped her bottom in his big hands and pulled her to him. She moaned. Her delicate hands played across his chest, grazing his male nipples, and her soft lips brushed his mouth. He opened to her inviting tongue and kissed her back, longingly.
    “If only this were not a dream,” he groaned, half awake now, his hand clamped on his tarse.
    “You’re not dreaming, Rhydderch.”
    His eyes flew open. Moonlight flooded the chamber, reflecting on the flaxen hair of a maiden cuddled into him. Was he still dreaming or had Isolda come naked to his bed? Her slim legs were entwined around him. He eased away to look at her. The moon’s rays illuminated her beautiful breasts, the pink nipples begging to be suckled. His heart raced wildly and his tarse became rock hard.
    “Isolda!”
    She nuzzled her head into his chest. “Rhydderch, make love to me. I need you.”
    He drew her face to his and kissed her deeply. She arched her body and opened her mouth in response to his coaxing. He sucked her tongue into his mouth. She raked her fingers through his long hair and felt his hard maleness grow more insistent against her. She longed for him to fill her, to rid her of the emptiness she had endured. His lips moved to her breasts and he suckled her with a hard rhythm, like a thirst-crazed man delivered from the desert. She arched her back again and a strangled shout emerged from her throat as the aching need built between her legs. She pulled away and traced her hands slowly down his taut belly to where they found what they timidly sought. He groaned.
    “I’ve longed to touch you, Rhydderch. You’re silken, and heavy!”
    He took one hand and guided it to cup his ceilliau . “Feel all of me, Isolda.”
    His throaty growl intensified the ache in her loins and echoed between her legs. She breathed his name.
    He rose above her. “I’ve often dreamt of our first time together and planned it to be slow and beautiful for you, but I’m about to lose control. I need to be inside you—now.”
    She opened her legs. “Now, now, now, come inside me.”
    Still he hesitated, his voice full of need. “But if you’re not ready it will be painful for you.”
    She moved her hands on his manhood, urging him to her. “It can’t be any more painful than the ache driving me now.”
    He groaned and touched his finger to her female centre. She was wet and inviting, her mons swollen. “Isolda, forgive me, I have to now.” He knelt, positioned