'It is a pretty toy you have given me, my lord,' Cailin told Aspar that evening as they ate. 'She speaks no Latin, and I must teach her; is afraid to bathe, but she appears sweet-tempered and eager to learn.'
'You said you were lonely. She is young as you are young, my beauty. She will keep you amused when I am away,' he responded, smiling.
'She is thirteen, and believed she was about to be drowned in the servant's bathing pool.' Cailin giggled. 'Where did you find her?'
'I asked a slave merchant I know to find me a young female Briton,' he said.
'She is a Saxon from the Saxon shore of Britain,' Cailin told him.
'Then she is not one of your people,' he remarked, irritated at himself. 'I should have been more specific with the slave merchant.'
'Celts are usually harder to catch,' Cailin said, a twinkle in her eyes, 'and they do not take well to service, my lord. Nellwyn will suit me admirably. Saxon girls are generally good-natured.'
'Then I have pleased you,' he replied, smiling at her.
'You always please me, my lord,' she answered him softly.
'No,' he said sadly, 'I do not, Cailin. I wish I could.'
'The fault lies with me, Aspar. You know it does! It breaks my heart that I can no longer feel passion when a man is within my woman's passage,' Cailin said, tears filling her lovely eyes. 'Yet I do gain a different kind of pleasure when we lie together. Your touch is so filled with love for me that it communicates itself to my very heart, and I am filled with happiness and peace. It is enough for me. I could but wish it was enough for you. It hurts me to know that I have failed you in this manner, but I know not what to do to change things. I have not that wisdom, my beloved lord.' She lay her head on his shoulder and sighed forlornly. How could she care so for this good man, Cailin wondered, and be unable to completely return his passion?
'I love you for many reasons,' he told her, 'but your truthfulness in all things pleases me greatly. I would have no whore's tricks from you, Cailin; no simulated cries of passion ringing in my ears. Some day you will cry out for me, but that cry will come from your heart. I will wait until that time. Perhaps not always with patience, but I will wait.' He arose from the table and held out his hand to her. 'The night is fair, and there is a moon. Let us walk together, my love.'
There was no wind, and the night was quiet around them. They walked first through the nearby orchards of almond, peach, and apricot trees with their fragrant pink and white blossoms, some of which were already beginning to drift down to catch in Cailin's myriad auburn curls.
'These trees are far prettier than the olive groves,' Cailin said. 'I do not like the yellowish flowers upon those trees.'
'But the olive is far more practical a fruit,' he told her. 'The peaches and apricots are quickly gone. The olives, properly prepared, last all year. What is beautiful is not always practical.'
'Almonds are beautiful,' she countered, 'and they last every bit as long as olives, even longer, and they do not have to be salted.'
He laughed. 'Too intelligent,' he teased her. 'You are too intelligent for a woman. No wonder you frighten Father Michael.'
'Everything frightens Father Michael that is of this world,' Cailin told him. As they left the orchards behind and came across a small field to the beach, she cried softly, 'Ohh, Aspar! Look at the moon on the sea! Is it not the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?'
It was one of those rare moments when the restless waves were totally stilled. The flat dark surface of the water was silvered, and shimmered like the best silk as it spread itself before them. They stood silently admiring the beauty of it all. It was as if the entire world were at peace with itself and they were the only two creatures inhabiting it. Aspar reached out and took Cailin's hand in his. Together they walked down the little embankment to the beach.
Removing his cloak, he spread it upon the sand for them. Then taking her into his arms, he kissed her softly, lingeringly. When he finally released her, Cailin wordlessly pulled her stola over her head and let the garment drop from her slender fingers. Naked, she stood proudly before him. He responded by removing the long, comfortable tunic he wore within his home, and kicked his sandals off. Then Aspar slipped to his knees before her, drawing her against him, his cheek pressed against her torso.
They embraced quietly for a long moment. Then he began to trace a pattern of warm kisses across her flesh. Cailin sighed softly. His patience and his gentleness always astounded her. How very much she wanted to respond to his loving, but passion, it seemed, was dead, or almost dead within her. The only time she felt the slightest bit of it was when he would tongue her little jewel, but when his manhood lay embedded inside of her, she could feel nothing at all but the thickness of it within her. In an effort to resurrect her passion, she had tried to remember all her times with Wulf Ironfist; but she soon realized that recalling her Saxon husband only seemed to render her body, and soul, colder than before. Several times she had come close to shrieking her frustration and pushing Aspar away because he was not Wulf and could not give her the joy she had once known in her husband's strong arms. Finally she had dismissed Wulf from her conscious mind while her Byzantine lord made love to her. It was easier that way.
Aspar rubbed his face between her breasts, one hand reaching up to fondle her. 'They are like perfect little ivory apples,' he said, his palm cupping the firm flesh and admiring it. Gently, his other hand pressed upon her back, and when she bent slightly, he lifted his head up to suckle upon the nipple. His teeth teased at the sensitive nub, and then his tongue encircled it enticingly before he suckled hard on it again.
'Ahhhhh,' she breathed, her fingers digging lightly into his muscled shoulders. He transferred his attentions to her other breast, his hand kneading and cuddling until she felt as if her breasts would burst with pleasure.
He then pressed the palm of his hand against her Venus mont as he began a leisurely exploration with lips and tongue of her slender torso. Each kiss upon her tingling skin was distinct and individual. His other hand was lightly clasped about her right buttock, the tips of his fingers caressing her. His tongue pushed into her navel, and Cailin murmured softly as it simulated what was to soon come. As if to emphasize the point, he pushed through her nether lips with a single finger and thrust it into her sheath.
Cailin's head whirled and her knees began to buckle. He felt her weakness, and withdrawing the finger, he pulled her to her knees, facing him. Aspar's dark eyes locked onto hers as he offered her his finger, running it sensuously over her lips until she opened her mouth and sucked on it, clutching at his hand until he pulled the finger away and caressed her throat. She lowered her head and bit his hand lightly, surprising him, then kissed his knuckles.
Something is different tonight, Cailin thought, and looking up at him, she realized that he could feel it too. She did not dare speak for fear of breaking the spell that seemed to be enfolding them. He took her by the shoulders, and his lips touched hers in what had been meant to be a tender kiss. The kiss, however, deepened quickly, and her mouth opened to take in his tongue, which danced primitively and hotly with hers. Then he was covering her face with kisses again, and Cailin's head fell back, her neck straining almost desperately as his lips burned their way down the perfumed column of her throat.
She stroked his hot, hard body. Her fingers entwined themselves deep within his thick black hair as she fell back upon his spread cloak. He moved his mouth slowly, almost with reluctance, down her body until his tongue found the delicate and sensitive jewel of her womanhood, rousing it to melting sweetness with a stronger force than she had ever before felt. Then his soldier's body was covering hers, his engorged manhood pressing forward to sheath itself within her. Cailin gasped with surprise as she realized that for the first time in two years her body was anxious, nay, desperate, for a man's possession.
She shuddered with actual pleasure as he filled her. Her arms tightened about him, drawing him as close as she could, reveling in the feeling of him against her. Their eyes met even as he began to move slowly upon her. Cailin could not look away, nor, she realized, could he. Their very souls seemed to blend as the rhythm of his sensuous movement began to communicate the rising passion between them. He said nothing, but she could feel him willing her to wrap her legs about him, and she did. Then she began to match his thrusts with voluptuous, pleasure- seeking motions of her own. The cadence of their deep desire grew almost savage in its intensity, until both Cailin and Aspar were overcome by its tender violence.
