Weather

The rain catches her unawares. One minute she is riding through the forest, the next the heavens have opened and she is caught between the immediate reaction to race back home and the urge to stay and let the rain soak into her skin. But she knows that he will worry so she kicks her mount into a canter and heads back. He used to demand that she stay in. Those demands, although made with the express intention of sparing her harm, caused her to dig her heels in. After countless battles using force he decided to employ a more cunning tactic.

The first time she had come home after dark. The temperature had dropped significantly and without warning. Well that was a lie. He had told her to take her cloak and gloves. She had reminded him quite angrily that she was not a child. By the time she had arrived home she had been shivering, her hands numb with cold. He had been waiting in the main hall, sitting in front of the fire. When she entered he took one long look at her, sighed and then made his way upstairs. He didn't say that he had worried, or that she could catch her death of cold. Instead he let the silence stretch out until the guilt nearly overwhelmed her. It was the last time that she stayed out past night fall.

Today he had told her that it looked like rain. She had taken no mind of him. Now here she was, soaked to the skin, dreading the silence when she returned. She knew that one could catch a cold and die easily, but she was no wilting flower. She was strong and healthy a shower wouldn't kill her.

As she predicts, he is waiting for her but he is not sitting in the main hall. He is standing in the doorway, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe, and his arms crossed over his chest. She cannot make out his expression until she has dismounted and is facing him. He is almost amused. He takes in her bedraggled appearance, his eyes roving over her face, hair and body. For one moment she is intensely aware that her dress is clinging to her body.

"Good afternoon Marian." He says evenly.

"Good afternoon Guy." She replies. He fights a smile and then turns and walks away. She hears him chucking as he walks up the stairs.

Later they make love to the sound of the rain. When they were first married she was more than a little surprised to find herself enjoying the marriage act. He seemed to know more about her body than she did. Their love making is sometimes fierce, sometimes tender but always full of passion. She is certain that if she could see what he makes her do in his arms she would be mortified. When it rains, they take each other slowly, taking the time to feel every zing of sensation, every gasp of air fluttering over sweat slicked skin. Rainy weather is for discovery. Tonight is no different and all she can do is hold on.

He is kneeling in the center of the bed, she is straddling his hips, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him. Her limbs feel weak and desperate, her neck can no longer support her head and it falls weakly back or forward onto his shoulder. His arms are like bands of steel around her, lifting and lowering her in time with the thrusting of his hips. His mouth is soft, countering the scrape of his stubble against her skin. She can feel his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin of her neck. She feels him moving inside her, hitting a spot within her that they discovered together years before.

When she comes her fingertips dig into shoulders and back and her breath catches sharply on a gasp. Then she cannot breathe while the tremors take her and her entire body tightens around him, her lips parted on a silent scream. Then she is on her back, and he is driving into her with a force that triggers a second orgasm when he finally releases into her, his teeth closing around her collar bone. Wrapped tightly in his arms she allows herself to drift.

When she next opens her eyes he is laying on his side staring down at her, his head propped up one hand. She is on her back still with one of his legs between hers. At some point he has pulled the covers over them to protect against the chill of the air. His eyes are quiet and full of love while his fingers stroke through her hair. She raises one hand and strokes his rough cheek and he turns his face into her palm with a sigh. Suddenly he smiles, as he traces her features with one calloused fingertip.

"Did you enjoy your ride?" his voice is soft and rough and immediately her body takes note, goose bumps racing over her skin.

"Which one?" she replies cheekily. His smile broadens as he traces her forehead and the length of her nose, brushing tenderly over her mouth.

"Are you cold?"

She smiles and closes her eyes. "No."

His finger tip is gone and she feels his arm slide around her, pulling her tight against him as he nuzzles her cheek. She smiles and turns into him slightly, resting her head against his, using her arms to pull his tighter about her, pleased to be caught up in him.