Her “oomph” made him roll away. He took her with him, a hand on her buttocks to maintain their connection.

They remained that way for several moments, embracing but silent. Cededa threaded his fingers through Imogen’s hair, relishing the feel of her body against his, the slippery clasp of her inner muscles on his softening cock, as if her body sought to keep him inside her a little longer. Her position and the fall of her hair hid her face from him. Her hand rested lightly on his hip, the other tucked under his hair to rest warmly against his nape. Her breath drafted across his neck, making the Tineroth key vibrate gently under his skin. He wanted to see her expression as she lay in his arms in the aftermath of their lovemaking, but he waited, content to lie beside her and stroke her back.

Imogen finally lifted her head, gifting him with a smile that had him hardening inside her. “I think that takes care of two frescoes.” She winked. “You’ll teach me the rest, yes?”

Delighted and relieved, Cededa chuckled and pulled her even closer against him. He kissed her softly, coaxing a moan from her to match his. “Aye,” he said after a few more drugging kisses. “As long as you’re a willing student, I’ll teach you everything I know.”

Her expression sobered. She ran a finger across his forehead before tracing a line down his nose to the creases that bracketed either side of his mouth. “Thank you,” she said. “For a man who had sixty-three wives, what we did might be of small consequence to you, but it was...wondrous to me.”

Cededa stared at her, words locked in his throat as emotions either long dead or never felt before threatened to choke him. “It was no less for me, Imogen,” he finally said and pressed his cheek to hers. Wondrous indeed. Devastating and bludgeoning. The horror of the shade didn’t reside in her hands but in the inevitability of her leaving him. His hand clenched into a fist behind her back before he gathered her even closer.

“Will you teach me more tonight, Cededa?” A soft yawn punctuated her question.

He liked the sound of his name on her tongue. His answering chuckle sounded brittle to his ears. “I think you’ve had enough for one evening.” Her invitation to make love to her again sent another wave of heat coursing through him. If she didn’t need time to recover, he’d swive her all night. As it was, he’d have to clamp down on his desires for now.

“You’ll stay with me?” she asked and yawned a second time. “Even if you don’t sleep?”

He might be immortal and half-mad; he wasn’t a fool. Imogen gave a sleepy gasp when Cededa slipped out of her. Her thighs were wet with his seed as were his. A bath tomorrow for them both. The frescoes in his room didn’t depict lovemaking in a bath, but he didn’t think Imogen would mind him teaching her that particular pleasure.