Pray for Reign (an Anne Boleyn novel) by Thea Atkinson

The desire within also made her feel perverse, and somehow
naughty. But there was no shame. She stepped closer to him. The tiny breeze
bore his scent to her. She tasted soap and talcum in it.
    He touched her arm.
    "Anne," he murmured, pulling her closer still so
that she felt encompassed by his arms. He nuzzled his face against her neck,
sending explosions down her back. She closed her eyes, enjoying the closeness.
    "You smell like sage." His sentence had no
meaning, a senseless rambling, which filled a silence that should have been
saturated with moans. He licked her neck, just behind the ear.
    "You taste like it too."
    "Sit with me." He was already pushing her to the
bench, his knees driven between her thighs. It felt so strange to be with him
like this, allowing him to touch her like this. Strange, but natural, as if
she’d already done so a hundred times. She felt his breath in her ear. She
twisted with it, and groaned deep in her throat.
    His lips crushed hers as she turned to him, allowing his
tongue to enter. It jabbed impatiently at hers. She curved her tongue around
the point and sucked hard, releasing the pressure spasmodically, instinctively.
The moan that filled her mouth tasted like her own. His hand rested on her
thigh, the sweat of the palm soaking through the linen of her gown. Oh, how she
wanted to feel it closer than that, under the material, near her skin. And she
no sooner wished it than he lifted her skirt. The draft cut off quickly as he
slid his hand underneath, near her hip.
    "I have to touch you." His mouth left hers only
where they needed to form the words.
    The warmth of their breath mingled and heated her cheek. She
nodded; he didn't need to explain. She wanted the touch, needed it much as he.
She tried to shut out the thoughts of her father, and of the priests, warning
her of eternal damnation. She took a deep breath as she felt his hand curve
around her waist, smoothing the skin like material, pressing out the wrinkles.
Her lips grew cold as he kissed the skin of her breast, seeking the imprisoned
nipples.
    "I have dreamt of this," he whispered raggedly.
"And each night I wake up panting and wet."
    In a perverse way she was thrilled that he would dream of
her, and want her so badly that it tormented him. Surely God couldn't punish
her for something this natural. He held tight to her, clasping her shoulders
with such a fierce grip it was maddening. His kiss grew more forceful, no
longer a gentle entreaty pledging with it love and concern, but a fierce need
that hurt her mouth. And all the while she returned it, not caring that it was
daylight and they could be seen. She sensed him shifting nearer. He pulled her
closer so their hips met. The hard flesh that stuck her seemed too big, too
thick, even through the layers of clothing they wore. She reached down and into
his hose, enthralled and curious.
    He gasped.
    "Should I not?" she asked, afraid her touch revolted
him.
    "Yes," he said. "I mean, no!" He pulled
away and the movement froze her blood. She sat still, the feel of that oddly
pliant hardness fresh on her fingers.
    "Oh, Anne. I didn't mean to..." He rose abruptly,
raking a trembling hand through his hair.
    She watched him pace near the water, scattering the ducks
with his panicked nervousness. He picked up a pebble, threw it squarely at one.
Its outraged squawk pierced the air.
    "I told you I’d not..." He turned to her with
features lit by grief.
    " Mais non, mon cher , it’s all right." She
didn't know what else to say, couldn’t understand how it had been right for him
to touch her, but not for her to do so to him.
    "No, it’s not." He walked purposefully toward her
and she pulled at her gown, shame coming as passion left.
    "I asked you here to beg your hand, not seduce you as I
would a common whore."
    His voice sounded thick with self-revulsion. She thought of
molasses for some reason—slow, thick and sickening. It was a few moments before
she registered his words.
    "Marry me?" Next