After the Fall(45)

She pulled at his tunic, running her hand over his bare hip, then looked at him and gasped when she saw him fully exposed. She touched him and he groaned her name.

“Athaulf,” she said, desperate with longing.

He picked her up, his hands grasping her backside, and she felt the heat of him against her as he laid her on the bed.

“Athaulf!”

This was bliss, perfection, and she cried out as he thrust himself against her. There was a stab of pain and her eyes flew open in shock.

He hesitated. “Have I — ”

“No, please … don’t stop, don’t ever stop,” she murmured as he started to move gently inside her.

Wanting more, grabbing him, she instinctively forced her hips against his, over and over, and his fever matched her own. She had never imagined so much, never realized … and arched as her body exploded with a mysterious, thunderous pleasure, even as Athaulf tightened, and then convulsed, shuddering in his own powerful release.

Her breathing slowed until it matched her heart’s deep rhythm, her soul’s fulfillment. As Athaulf gradually relaxed against her, she touched her lips to his shoulder. Eyes wide with amazement, she wondered how long it might be before they would do it again, or how anyone could willingly leave the bed, after experiencing such wonders.

Propping himself up on an elbow, Athaulf considered her for a long moment, tracing her cheek, his fingers feather-light as he touched the gems at her throat. “We should take this off,” he said, seeking to unclasp her necklace. “I do not want to break it.”

She stayed his hands, kissing him over and over, whispering, “No, I am bound by my faith … must keep one thing on … one thing at least … when I am naked before you … when we make love.”

He smiled and then stroked her breast, and she trembled, yearning for more.

“How long I have dreamt of seeing you like this, of having you so close.” His gaze roamed over her body, his desire rekindled. “You are a wonder, a vision.” His eyes returned to hers. “I love you, Placidia.”

She drank in the nearness of his beautiful eyes, the musky scent of his warm skin. “And I love you,” she whispered, touching him. “Please, let’s never get dressed.”

Athaulf threw back his head and laughed, then kissed her again, and made love to her again and again.

• • •

The Visigoths moved ever southward into gathering storms. A cold wind howled, the miserable trek made worse when a virulent flu swept through camp.

The rain pattered down as Gigi jumped into bed and pulled the furs up under her chin. She snuggled close to Magnus. “Finally, now it’s my time. I thought your meeting with Alaric would never end. Besides, I’m freezing, so do something, but I warn you, I’m keeping every last stitch of clothing on, so you’ll have to get creative.”

When he didn’t respond, she glanced at him in the dim light and saw the look of pain in his eyes; something she’d hoped never to see again.

“What’s wrong? You’re not getting sick, too, are you?” she asked anxiously.

“No,” he replied.

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing.”

She stared at him, realizing she’d seen this same expression many times since his return. So far, she hadn’t been able to get a word out of him, and she’d always let it pass. Pursing her lips, Gigi decided it had gone on long enough. It was time to force the issue, or at least try.

“What is bothering you, Magnus? Please let me in.”

He turned his head away without a word, so she reached up and gently coaxed him back. “You’re breaking my heart with this, I swear. Please, what can possibly be causing you so much pain? It’s not doing you any good keeping it inside.”

Magnus shook his head, his gaze on the ceiling of their tent. “I live with a terrible shame — many, in fact.”

“Stop it,” Gigi demanded. “You can’t talk like that. What can be so bad, so shameful? You spent months looking for me. I don’t see the shame in that. It sounds courageous and noble.”

“Perhaps it was … I was … at first. I did search, endlessly, but to no avail. Never to any avail.”

“That’s because Randegund lied to you,” she said, her anger flaring over the witch’s deceit. It was a good thing Alaric and Verica were keeping her well out of sight these days.

“True, it wasn’t my fault, but at the time I blamed myself, and because of that, I did things, I allowed things to happen, I even pursued … ” Magnus paused. “I used it as an excuse for all manner of excess, because I didn’t want to know any more. I didn’t want to think, or remember, or feel anything. It hurt too much.”