That did it for Snow. She couldn’t see his face, but hearing him moan, un his need told her what she couldn’t see. He was ready and she was relieved since she couldn’t hold on another minute.

“Now, Tarass, now!” she cried out in her own sweet groan.

Tarass let out a roar that Snow feared the whole keep heard or perhaps he wanted it heard, particularly by Cleric Norman. And she joined him, not the least bit concerned who heard either of them. Besides, she couldn’t help it, her climax was so undeniably pleasurable. And each time she felt him release, his seed spill into her, she prayed a seed would take root and a bairn would grow from their love.

Tarass dropped down on her, spent from a climax that left him completely satiated and more than ever in love with his wife, something he still found surprising and sometimes terrifying. Never had he expected to find love and perhaps the terror that he could lose her was the reason why he thought he’d never love. He didn’t want to deal with the God-awful pain of losing someone you loved.

The thought of Lord Polwarth actually taking Snow from him not only infuriated him, but terrified him as well. Not that he would ever let it happen, but then he had not been able to protect his parents from being killed.

He would not lose his wife. He would take her away to his mum’s land and people and live there if necessary. He would let no one take her from him.

Snow’s gurgling stomach had Tarass rolling off her to lay beside her, his hand reaching out to lace his fingers with hers.

Snow sighed contented and locked her slim fingers with his strong ones, needing to be joined with him one way or another.

“You need to eat, wife,” Tarass said, his breath beginning to calm.

“Aye, we’ll eat and then be ready to make love again,” she said with a soft sigh, the last tingle of climax fading away.

Tarass turned on his side to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her bottom lip plump from biting back some of her moans, and passion still lingered in her lovely green eyes. She was a beautiful woman, even more so after making love.

“I please you that much, wife, that you can’t get enough of me?” he asked with a slight chuckle.

Snow reached out and rested her hand against his jaw. “You please me so much, husband, that I truly feel you will grow tired of me making demands on you.”

Tarass turned his face into her hand, his lips faintly brushing along her palm before he kissed it, sending a brief quiver through her. “I can put your fear to rest, my dear wife, since that shall never happen.”

“You say that now, but—”