Heart's Magic Read Online Free PDF

her head backward. Quickly he kissed her
slender throat, taking care not to leave marks on it. The necklines
of Alda’s gowns were always cut low. There was no point in
embarrassing either of them with flagrant evidence of their affair.
But Alda’s breasts would not be seen in public.
    Alda cried out in pleasure, arching back
against his arm, her hips thrusting forward to meet his rigid
manhood. Brice began to work his way toward the bed. He fell onto
it with Alda beneath him. Thanks to her wriggling he was perfectly
positioned so, as he landed, Brice drove hard into her.
    “Don’t stop,” she cried, eagerly meeting his
cruel thrusts. “Oh, Brice, help me, make me forget—yes! Yes!”
    Alda’s eyes closed. Only in the throes of
passion, when she was totally caught up in what was happening
within her own body as she was now, only then was the petulant
expression absent from her face. At such times she looked once more
like the innocent girl Brice had first known, long ago, before she
had married Gavin of Wroxley. For the sake of that young Alda he
would have been more gentle with her, but she screamed, bucking
beneath him, crying out to him to pound harder into her, and harder
still, until his ears rang and his sight blurred and his seed
poured forth in a hot stream of passionate release that left him
exhausted.
    “I do not know why, in more than a year, I
have not got you with child,” Brice said later.
    “There are ways to prevent conception.” Alda
moved restlessly on the bed beside him.
    “Mirielle would never give you herbs for such
a purpose. I hope you have not upset her by asking her for
them.”
    “You love Mirielle more than you love me,”
she accused.
    “There is no reason for you to be jealous.
Mirielle is my blood kin and like a daughter to me.” Yes, I love
her, in an innocent way that you would never understand.
    “So am I your kin,” Alda said, pouting.
    “On your mother’s side, by marriage and not
by blood, and a distant connection at that,” Brice reminded her. He
swung his legs over the side of the bed. “It is time to dress for
the evening meal. I understand we have guests. They can entertain
you with their stories.”
    “Mirielle reports that they are only
pilgrims. Their stories will be dull ones. Brice, you cannot be
leaving me so soon?” she whined, seeing him begin to straighten his
clothes.
    “I want to wash and put on fresh clothing
before I present myself in the great hall,” he said. “It is only
courtesy to our guests.”
    “You will change your clothing for strangers,
but you come to me with the sweat and stench of the stables still
on you.”
    “You love it when I smell like a stallion.
You have told me so many times.” He bent to touch one of her
nipples, eliciting a whimper of renewed sensual interest from her.
“Shall I send your maidservant to help you dress?”
    “She knows when to come to me.”
    “Then she knows I am here. Alda, you really
should be more discreet.”
    “Why?” Alda reached toward him, to caress and
cajole him into returning to the bed. “Everyone in this castle
knows we lie together.”
    “Still, it would be better if you did not
flaunt the fact. The same folk who might overlook a quietly
conducted liaison often voice loud objections to an affair whose
participants flaunt it in public.” Brice pulled away from Alda’s
searching fingers. His clothing in order once more, he ran a hand
over his hair to smooth it. Without a backward glance he let
himself out of the room.
    Left alone, still sprawled naked on the bed,
Alda shuddered. There were shadows in the corners of the room. If
she were alone for very long, they would begin to encroach upon her
and she would not be able to breathe. For some reason on this
particular evening the shadows were darker and more threatening
than usual. She could see their shapes and their movements.
    Alda knew of only one way to keep the shadows
at bay. After an hour in his arms she smelled of Brice, of