“Perhaps then you would do well to let me speak, my lord?” Summer teased. She caught his hand, pressing a kiss into his palm. “I spent my days mostly reading, though my brother coaxed me out to practise archery while the weather was fine. Your books were so welcome, for I feared I’d go mad thinking of you.” She looked up at him, biting her lip.
“I feared my memories deceived me,” she whispered. “How could a man like you see so much in me? You, my lord, are brother to the King. Your words fall sweet on my ears now.”
“My lord,” Summer gasped, drowning in his kisses, “Humphrey, stop, please stop.” She couldn’t stop herself kissing him back, pressing close to him, body yearning into his arms. “Humphrey, slow down.” It wasn’t that she didn’t want him, in the least, but being ravished up against a wall with haste was not her idea of a good time. She wanted the luxury of exploration, to tease and play and experiment.
“Slow down, as stop and wait for you?” he asked, looking at her. “If you wish me to I would, tho I tell you it would be hard… but I would try my best.” He kissed her again, deeply, “or do you mean to take this to a more convenient place?” he murmured. “That is certainly much easier to arrange.” He kissed her, pulling her close once more, holding her tightly pressed against his body. “Anything you want, my love.”
She pulled away from his insistent kisses. “I wish to take my time with you, my lord. Not in haste, but in leisure.” Stretching up to his ear, she murmured, “This is my demand for your long absence. I’ll not be taken like the wenches you tumble in alehouse and hayloft, but as the lady you treasure.” Summer slipped out of his arms deftly, leaving only her fingertips in his. “Do those pretty words mean anything, my lord? I’ll have you prove it so.” Very deliberately, she lowered her eyelashes, looking up at him through them. “Come, are there yet no pillows we might lie on, since you have returned?”