Summer pressed herself against Humphrey. “Very tempting. But you know I don’t fear the darkness, Humphrey.” She leaned up his body, murmuring, “It would have to be very late indeed to prevent my return to the city. Perhaps your library will be interesting enough to distract me.”
“You are very tempting, like a sweet blueberry pie laid in front of me for supper,” Humphrey said, pulling her close to him. “The one with vanilla sugar on top. Yet, I must ask you to dress, and we shall join the household for supper.”
“I am sure you are not fearless, Summer. No one is,” he added, before he planted a light kiss on her forehead, “Dress, love. Let us find out what the hunters caught in the woods while I was hunting you down.”
“Yes, my lord,” she sighed, drawing away. It was probably fortunate that she’d done most of her undressing herself. It made it simple to locate her dress and relace it, though she wasn’t sure what had become of the blue velvet. “Do I suit your desires now, sweet?”
“Plainly speaking, no… you suited MY desires without the garment.” Humphrey said pulling her into a hug. He sensed a change of mood. “Sadly we need to care for other things than my desires… and mayhap we could talk as you feel as cold as wind in winter, so tell me what it is I may have insulted you? I meant no offence.”
Summer leaned her head against his chest, sighing softly. “I am not insulted, only disappointed. I wished more of you, and you put me off.” Deliberately, she looked up and smiled. “Come, kiss me again and we shall go into supper. We may talk, though not of insult.”
Summer pressed herself against Humphrey. “Very tempting. But you know I don’t fear the darkness, Humphrey.” She leaned up his body, murmuring, “It would have to be very late indeed to prevent my return to the city. Perhaps your library will be interesting enough to distract me.”
“You are very tempting, like a sweet blueberry pie laid in front of me for supper,” Humphrey said, pulling her close to him. “The one with vanilla sugar on top. Yet, I must ask you to dress, and we shall join the household for supper.”
“I am sure you are not fearless, Summer. No one is,” he added, before he planted a light kiss on her forehead, “Dress, love. Let us find out what the hunters caught in the woods while I was hunting you down.”
“Yes, my lord,” she sighed, drawing away. It was probably fortunate that she’d done most of her undressing herself. It made it simple to locate her dress and relace it, though she wasn’t sure what had become of the blue velvet. “Do I suit your desires now, sweet?”
“Oh?” Summer replied archly, laughing softly. “Who is feisty? You must take yourself into account, Humphrey.” She kissed him again, lightly. “But since you spent the day hunting hearts instead of harts, is your kitchen prepared to feed us? ‘Twould be a sad thing to starve after such a feast.” She drew away and slipped out of the bed, reaching her arms to the ceiling in a massive stretch, hair atumble down her bare back. Looking over one shoulder at the Duke, she added, “Yes, I am always so.”
“Hearts versus harts, I like this…” Humphrey laughed watching her as she stretched herself, as if she was performing a show to him. “I believe if you showcase yourself like this you might end up with serious delay of supper for I shall drag you right back to bed.”
Regardless of his words, Humphrey also rose from his bed, walking across the room to his wardrobe to dress in something comfortable. “I warn you, you will sup with a monk. I think to wear some lengthy robe,” he said, “Anything more than that would be bothering me.” He chose his garment and turned towards her, “Will you stay the night, Summer? I mean… I would like you to.”
“Is it not wordplay that brought us together, Humphrey? I must keep in practise, lest I lose your attention.” She smirked, stalking toward him, but hesitated in the midst of putting her arms around him at the question. “I — ” No glib answer came to mind. Play, wordplay, bedsport, all these were well and good, but she was yet a noblewoman, and he a duke and brother to a king. “I might be persuaded to,” she went on, at last, playfulness fallen from her eyes as she searched his.
“Well, you will have a chamber as befits your status, prepared for you… you are a respected guest of the house,” Humphrey said with a grin, noting how she looked confused, “and after supper it will be likely too late for the journey to London.” He put her hands around his waist finishing the motion she started, “I might sneak in tho…” He whispered into her ear. “Who knows, you might be frightened in the dark and need some knightly guarding around you….”
“After supper I show you the library. You might like what you find there, to keep you in practice with your wordplay.”
Summer pressed herself against Humphrey. “Very tempting. But you know I don’t fear the darkness, Humphrey.” She leaned up his body, murmuring, “It would have to be very late indeed to prevent my return to the city. Perhaps your library will be interesting enough to distract me.”
[I am beyond sorry for the delay of this. I have no excuse. *kowtows massively*]
Hours later, Summer slid back to the surface of sleep, blinking slowly. Humphrey had pleasured her to the point of exhaustion, and then the two had slipped into sleep still tangled about one another, clothing strewn about. At some point, one of them must have woken enough to draw the coverlets up.
She looked at him, arms still loosely about her, and couldn’t help but smile. He was generous and brave and beautiful; she ran a gentle hand over his hair. “Humphrey?” she whispered. “Wake up, lover.”
“Oh?” Summer replied archly, laughing softly. “Who is feisty? You must take yourself into account, Humphrey.” She kissed him again, lightly. “But since you spent the day hunting hearts instead of harts, is your kitchen prepared to feed us? ‘Twould be a sad thing to starve after such a feast.” She drew away and slipped out of the bed, reaching her arms to the ceiling in a massive stretch, hair atumble down her bare back. Looking over one shoulder at the Duke, she added, “Yes, I am always so.”
“Hearts versus harts, I like this…” Humphrey laughed watching her as she stretched herself, as if she was performing a show to him. “I believe if you showcase yourself like this you might end up with serious delay of supper for I shall drag you right back to bed.”
Regardless of his words, Humphrey also rose from his bed, walking across the room to his wardrobe to dress in something comfortable. “I warn you, you will sup with a monk. I think to wear some lengthy robe,” he said, “Anything more than that would be bothering me.” He chose his garment and turned towards her, “Will you stay the night, Summer? I mean… I would like you to.”
“Is it not wordplay that brought us together, Humphrey? I must keep in practise, lest I lose your attention.” She smirked, stalking toward him, but hesitated in the midst of putting her arms around him at the question. “I — ” No glib answer came to mind. Play, wordplay, bedsport, all these were well and good, but she was yet a noblewoman, and he a duke and brother to a king. “I might be persuaded to,” she went on, at last, playfulness fallen from her eyes as she searched his.
[I am beyond sorry for the delay of this. I have no excuse. *kowtows massively*]
Hours later, Summer slid back to the surface of sleep, blinking slowly. Humphrey had pleasured her to the point of exhaustion, and then the two had slipped into sleep still tangled about one another, clothing strewn about. At some point, one of them must have woken enough to draw the coverlets up.
She looked at him, arms still loosely about her, and couldn’t help but smile. He was generous and brave and beautiful; she ran a gentle hand over his hair. “Humphrey?” she whispered. “Wake up, lover.”
“Oh?” Summer replied archly, laughing softly. “Who is feisty? You must take yourself into account, Humphrey.” She kissed him again, lightly. “But since you spent the day hunting hearts instead of harts, is your kitchen prepared to feed us? ‘Twould be a sad thing to starve after such a feast.” She drew away and slipped out of the bed, reaching her arms to the ceiling in a massive stretch, hair atumble down her bare back. Looking over one shoulder at the Duke, she added, “Yes, I am always so.”
[I am beyond sorry for the delay of this. I have no excuse. *kowtows massively*]
Hours later, Summer slid back to the surface of sleep, blinking slowly. Humphrey had pleasured her to the point of exhaustion, and then the two had slipped into sleep still tangled about one another, clothing strewn about. At some point, one of them must have woken enough to draw the coverlets up.
She looked at him, arms still loosely about her, and couldn’t help but smile. He was generous and brave and beautiful; she ran a gentle hand over his hair. “Humphrey?” she whispered. “Wake up, lover.”
”Ahhhh, Humphrey,” Summer cried out, eyes closed and head thrown back. The ecstacy of him was nearly unbearable after the time spent teasing and the sensitivity he’d left behind. In an incredibly short amount of time she could no longer even speak, sliding into a helpless, rhythmic whimper, rocking against him. Threading her fingers into his hair, she lowered her mouth to his for a savage kiss as her body tightened around him. Climax shocked down her spine, shaking her body for the third time.
”Are you begging, sweet duke?” She laughed at his groan and shifted again, to kneel by his side. Loosened locks of hair tumbled over her shoulders to brush his middle as Summer bent to kiss along his ribcage, pausing to swirl her tongue around one nipple. “You were so willing to wait before … ” Cool nails scraped his skin, marking her name into his flesh. Deliberately she paused at his hips, gazing up his prone body, before sucking a mark into his flesh. “Shall I go on?”
Summer smiled, rising above him. Gently she put his hand away from her, drawing it up to her mouth. She began by kissing the tips of his fingers, one by one, then began to examine them minutely with tongue and lips and fingertips. She traced her tongue down into his palm, nibbled at the heel of his hand, kissed along the lines and calluses. Delicately she ran her tongue down the large vein in his arm, biting at his wristbones, searching out every sensitive point along his arm, licking at each scar and mark.