A true knight always finishes a story...

Oh, but Dunk had learned her body quite well through the night. Savored her softness and pliability; swallowed the sounds she gave over when he pleased her best. Committed to memory every sweep and curve of her form and her tender vulnerability. While each had discovered small treasures about one another as well, quiet insights gained as they lingered awake after hours of making love. Already he knew that he could be happy to wake to her laughter every morn of his life going forward. He'd been resting his head across her midriff, all warm and drowsy while she carded her fingers through his damp hair, soothing him into a silence that came close to dozing. Laelynne had been near to sleep herself. And then he had broken the quiet just by speaking her name; she had replied with a yawn, "Yes, Duncan?" 

"I'm hungry, lass," he had rumbled against her skin.

Her soft laughter had run across his flesh like a gentle stream, cool, refreshing, and life-giving. "Ah, well...there's not as much left in my larder as there was before you came through my door, Duncan, my..." She had sighed then and his heart had as well, for no woman had ever called him their own in any way, "...my dear, but what's there is yours for the taking..." To Dunk's mind, she had left unsaid what her body had seemed to tell him in every moment as he had taken her this time. As is my heart.

He had paused then, thinking to make a quick trip to her kitchen, but her warmth and the scent of their sins together, combined with the way she had just quietly claimed him, changed his mind. Instead, Dunk made his way up to the hollow of her throat with slow, open-mouth kisses that tickled her skin enough to get her giggling, until he was laughing as well, while tucking his face into the welcoming crook of her neck. The sweetness of her laughter only faded when he turned it into to moans, making love to her once more. This time as her man. As her Duncan.

Later on, as his thoughts ran their full course, with Laelynne snuggled at his side and idly tracing her fingers along the contours of his chest, Dunk realized that in the initial rush of their desire to be together, he had neglected a vital responsibility. Feeling the sudden guilt of such a failure, it slipped from his mouth unbidden. "I must beg your pardon, Laelynne...I'm...I'm so sorry, sweetling..." He had pulled her even tighter, as though his embrace could somehow soften his grave error.

"For what, love," she had purred warmly, nuzzling his flesh, "You've given me only reasons to be thankful." Her sigh was full, luxuriously warm breathed upon his skin, her voice rich with true satisfaction. "Repeated reasons. Beyond any dreams or wishes I might've ever had."

"I mean this, Lael..."

"As do I, Duncan..." Concerned, she raised her face to watch his, her voicing hitching quietly, "But...but are you...sorry now for the love that we've shared?" 

"Never, dear," he blurted out, eager to soothe over two wrongs now. "Never, never think it, sweet lass..."

"I don't...I don't understand, then..."

He turned his head to kiss her temple. "Forgive my foolishness, Laelynne," he began, "And forgive me, please, that I took you without asking first..."

She sighed again, in soft relief, "Was not every kiss my sure consent, sweet man?" Her lips painted fresh reminders of that across his chest. "Please...don't indulge in such troublesome thoughts. I swear I wanted you in my bed as much as I need air in my lungs."

"Laelynne..." he'd groaned, burying his hand in her hair, growing aroused again at her soft, tender treatment, though he needed to further explain, "I just...I should've...the thing is...a good man should..."

She froze a moment, both listening and encouraging, "A good man...yes?"

The shame of his failing sent his answer out on a rush of breath. "I should've asked first, if I could finish inside you..."

"What do you mean? I don't understand..." She'd been honestly perplexed.

"...as a man should do....so he doesn't...doesn't father a child..."

Laelynne was silent, though she slipped her free arm across his chest, clinging to him as she considered his claim. "Do...do they really? I didn't know that...I...I was only ever with..." 

"Yes," he said quietly, sparing her having to say it. "I...I don't suppose you really needed to."

"No, not at all," she whispered back.

"But...if you should now?" Dunk was already imagining the what if of it. The being forever tied to another soul--and to one as kind as Laelynne--that profoundly. The very thought raised the hair on his arms and sent a satisfying warmth through his veins.

She had gone her quietest and the seconds as she thought about it hung heavy about them. At last came her confident reply, "I say let us leave it in the gods hands, love." Laelynne rose and kneeled astride him, putting his needless shame to rest. "I had trouble enough kindling in my marriage bed, as the gods saw fit." She guided his hands to her breasts, urging him to deepen his caresses by squeezing his hands. Become surprisingly bold just for him, and in that moment, akin to a flame-haired, hungering goddess herself. "They give and they take with no explanations or mercy," she told him, beginning to pant hard as the crimson of her own arousal spread upwards from her chest to her neck to her cheeks. Dunk's mouth watered to take the hard peaks of her nipples against his tongue, yet he couldn't tear his eyes from the feral beauty she'd become. Her eyes were shut as she nodded her head, silently affirming her intent, but she was clear-eyed when she met his gaze again, "And I will have you sweet man, like a gift...and as that mercy denied me overlong."

The damp, irresistible heat of her pressed against his hard length shred all other concerns from his mind, before Laelynne had even begun to roll her hips and set them a rhythm, rubbing against him from his tip to his base. She leaned close, brushing her breasts against his chest, humming at the feel of her softness upon his firm muscles and spurring Dunk to brusquely trap her against him, with hands unyielding on her back. As she traced hungry kisses up his neck, he ran his hands along to the gentle curve of her waist, reminding himself--while he still could think clearly--not to hold her too tightly, not to bruise her precious flesh. Breathing hard between wet, passionate kisses, Laelynne caught his earlobe between her teeth. "I'll have more of you, Duncan...more and more...and have you spill inside me. Deep as can be."

The sudden greediness in her voice had him utterly entranced, as she reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Shamelessly, she guided it to her slit, strengthening her grasp while she broached herself with just the first few inches. Laelynne lingered exactly that way, teasing him by clenching her muscles until he couldn't bear to wait any longer and rutted up into her core. No subtlety, no taking their time, nor even concern if she was ready to take him in full. Just making him need to bury himself to the hilt. Her walls fit him like a glove made just for his hand, so that he lost himself in her perfect wet friction caressing every ridge and vein as he pumped up into her. Her moans turned so wicked sounding, matching his own, both rising above the wet sounds that followed each deepening thrust.

When she straightened again, Laelynne stilled a moment, watching him with a soft sort of dazed expression on her face which made him long to tell a truth he'd arrived at far too soon. That his heart belonged to her already. That he'd already fallen deep, against all sense in the world. Impossible it was, yet somehow true. She smiled at him then--as though she read it on his face--then bit her lip, closed her eyes, and began to rotate her hips. Circling one way several times, then circling back. Again and again, in a slow steady pace. His mouth hung open as he watched her, breathing in time with her movements, kneading her breasts again, rolling her hard, ruddy nipples in his fingers, and reading in her gasps and moans when the pleasure he gave her equaled his own. Her normally quiet manner had never hinted at such brazeness in her nature, and Dunk felt a hunger to make all such revelations his alone.

"Mmmm...gods, I love how you fill me...don't stop, Duncan...don't stop...don't ever stop..." The desperation in her voice, how his name fell from her lips, had his brain growing foggy as his body sought to answer her demands. Dunk grabbed her hips to hold her in place, grinding against her at the peak of each thrust, his reward Laelynne hoarsely cooing each time he hit his full depth.

"Mine," he grunted, the need to completely possess her overwhelming him, "Mine...say you're mine now, Lael...only mine..." 

Laelynne was nodding, but only managed to hum out, "...yours...ever yours..." and then her walls were rippling around him, coating him with her release, but he held still as she rode her pleasure through, knowing he could go a while longer. Already greedy to make it happen for her again.

Once her shoulders slumped and her breathing evened out, Dunk gave a slow, shallow thrust. "Ooooo...oh...that's mmmm...not done yet," She asked, her eyes going wide with the question.

"No, lass. Not yet," he smirked, proud of how she'd come for him, but eager to continue. "But can you take another?"

Silently bidding him watch her, Laelynne stretched her arms above her head, out to her very fingertips. Purposefully. Langorously. Humming in her throat, then combing her fingers through her hair. "Aye, sweet man. As you desire it of me." And then Laelynne leaned back, bracing herself on his legs. With her eyes closed and from the crown of her head down her flawless throat to her freckled chest and the taut plane of her belly, her body was tensed and arched like a bow ready to spring. To his eyes she was an unearthly, pale-skinned beauty, stealing his breath with every gyration and with every sound that she made.

Her hips were just out of his easy reach, so Dunk planted his hands on her thighs, anchoring her to him as they moved together. The change in angle for them both was so intensely blissful that she keened her delight with his every upward thrust. Realizing his time might be nearer than he'd thought, he slid his right hand to her glistening lips to finger her swollen bud, needing to feel her satisfaction again before giving into his own. But seeing himself actually fuck her, watching the foam ring of their mixed fluids coat his base as he pumped himself relentlessly into her dripping cunt, triggered something greedy and primal inside him, sending him careening to the edge. "Fuck...oh fuck...ooohhh fuck..." he groaned through gritted teeth, "Laelynne...I'm...oh, fuck...now...". Powerful spasms overtook him at last, her muscles clenching around him as she peaked as well, the hot jet of his seed filling her exactly as she'd sought from him. Dunk got lost in it, white light in his brain, pure bliss in his veins, the rock-hard tension in his muscles snapping into a euphoria that left him feeling weightless and timeless, husked out but content, and connected only to she he now treasured the most. His lovely Laelynne.

She had rocked forward as she finished, her arms suddenly too weak to support her properly, breath heaving as she lay her cheek against his shoulder. Her weight upon him was like a feather, her flesh slick and hot as though feverish. As Dunk came back to himself, his first impulse was to soothe her however he might, so he wrapped one arm around her and cradled the back of her head with his other hand, gently easing her onto her side. Laelynne hissed softly as he shifted with her, "No...stay in me please...I want it to last..."

"There, my sweet lady," he whispered, softly kissing her face. "I have you now and I swear I won't let go."

She gave a long sigh of mixed relief and exhaustion. "Ooohhh...you truly are a good man, Duncan. Mayhap the best...the best I've ever known..." His heart, at that, felt like to burst with wonder, and with an ache to make that fullness never end. By the time that nature took its course and he had, at last, slipped from inside her, Laelynne lay fast asleep within his arms. He soon followed, sated as never before in his life, feeling that--if only just briefly--he was loved for simply being the man that he was.

He woke to a soft breeze and full sunlight coming through the open window. Alone. And aching in places he'd never ached quite this way before. Which got Dunk smiling to himself, recalling exactly why his muscles were so sore. Laelynne. Both her linens and his skin still held her scent, and Dunk took a moment to bury his face in the pillow, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Marking the aroma--fresh bread, sweet apple cider, summer berries, mixed with the scent of the deeds they'd done together--as forever Laelynne. His Lael.

Of course, she had let him sleep past the time she'd left his side, for her nature--as he'd swiftly learned--was to see to others needs before her own. He could picture her rising from the bed they had shared, moving gingerly, taking the greatest care not to disturb him. Barefoot, she had picked her dress up from the floor, leaving her chemise where he'd discarded it last night. Stepped into it, she had done up the lacing, before going to the window and throwing wide the shutters. Surely, for the comfort of a cool breeze on his skin--but also to air the room a bit. It had needed it.

Dunk swung his legs over the side of her bed, stretching thoroughly before he stood up, trying to soften the stiffness in his hips, thighs, and lower back. Whatever small discomfort was there was well worth the pleasure he'd been given. He wondered how Laelynne felt this morning, and hoped what marks he might have left on her were gentle ones. Just remembering the sight of her smooth skin in the shuttered moonlight, the glorious arch of her breasts into his hands, the dark auburn curls at the juncture of her thighs, flooded his cheeks with heat and had him growing hard again. This won't do, he told himself, striding to the window, You can't just show up in her kitchen this way. Some measure of modesty must be maintained.

Once calmed, Dunk threw on his shirt and breeches, so eager to see how she fared, that he carried his boots with him just to get to the kitchen sooner. Coming to the doorway, he ducked beneath the lintel, to find Laelynne and Egg together, preparing breakfast

Dunk leaned against the doorframe, just watching them for a wee bit. Allowing himself a little space to dream. Laelynne and Egg had their backs to him, speaking too quietly for him to quite make out what they were saying, though their speech would occasionally be punctuated with bursts of laughter. Sometimes just one of them, but all the sweeter when it was both. She was showing the boy how to knead the dough for this day's bread; she'd given Egg his own little ball of dough to work with, and Dunk had no doubt that when the time came she would set it to bake next to her own, and when it was through, the boy would proudly show him the product of his hands. Clearly, Laelynne was a far gentler teacher than he. 

This must be what it's like to have a family, Dunk mused. We could be happy here, Egg and I. That single night could be stretched into several, then stretched to weeks, and thus to months, and what lay beyond that? A simpler life than Dunk had ever aspired to, far different than one with his aim ever to be the chivalrous man of arms he had become. Egg could be happy here, assuming the role of Dunk's son, freed forever from the painful, complicated family intrigues that had originally driven him to seek anonymous service as Dunk's squire. And from there, their family could grow.

After last night, Dunk could feel how easy it would be to fall into the part of husband and father. Could see it in his minds eye, standing exactly so in, say, two or three years time. Egg would've had a growth spurt, the one he'd been longing so for. Six inches taller, with his hair remaining shorn, for he still couldn't bear the reminder of his family heritage and his brother's madness. The task of shaving their boy's head usually fell to Laelynne these days, but she had never asked why, out of respect for the bond Dunk and Egg shared well before they came into her life.

And Laelynne. Heavy with his child, her full curves astonishingly beautiful, enough to make him want her all the time these days as though he was caught in some sort of love spell. It wasn't always wise to give in, they couldn't always give in, but gods how he loved her, body and soul!

She was near to her time to deliver, the seams of her simple dress straining but never giving way. The midwife predicted a girl, and when his woman spoke of this in the late night hours before sleep stole them from one another, it was with grateful tears. Dunk was happy just to be the man blessed enough to spark the life within her and continue the healing she had needed so desperately. His imagining further showed an infant girl with a fuzz of pale ginger hair, so dainty it was hard to fathom that she could be his, asleep at her mother's breast. The beauty of it was so bittersweet and so impossible it nearly drove him to his knees.

Dunk shook his head, meaning to drive the beautiful, useless images from his mind. Such daydreaming was impractical, and normally he only indulged his imagination this way when sleep eluded him and he needed a distraction. But several feet away were two very real people he was blessed to care about, and that's where his focus need lay. "Good morning," he called to them, his voice still dusky from sleep.

They both turned to face him, but Dunk's eyes sought hers at once, finding in them the same softness she had shown him all through the night before. He knew his own face must be reflecting everything he was feeling; that were Egg not in the room, he would still not need to speak aloud his wonder at all that he and Laelynne had shared. Her smile said the same.

"Do knights usually lay abed this late, Ser Duncan," she teased him lightly, "Or were your...exertions...yesterday, on my behalf, overly exhausting?"

"Nay, Laelynne," he grinned, hands tucked in his pockets as he approached her. Charmed at her sly double-meaning in front of the boy, Dunk choose his words slowly, carefully, answering her tone and meaning with full meaning of his own. "Had I more hours to spend on the...tasks...you set me to, I would've completed each to...your satisfaction...with no complaint at all...and with full and...ready...vigor." That brought the pretty blush to her cheeks that he'd been seeking.

Laelynne inhaled sharply and laid the back of her wrist to her forehead. "Gods, but this kitchen is far too hot already..." She was panting softly, the rhythm of the rise and fall of her breath mesmerizing him. "And...and your boy is very hungry, but I told him we must wait breakfast just for you. Will you sit at table now?"

"Only once you do, lass." The urge he felt to take her hand was nearly irresistible.

Egg had already set the bowls and spoons for their meal, then turned to help Laelynne deliver it to table. A pot of porridge, a bowl of freshly roasted strawberries, and a small pitcher of cream. "I fetched the strawberries myself, Ser, from the little patch across the road. They're the sweetest that I ever tasted."

"Aye, he's quite the kitchen helper, Duncan. I'll be very sorry to see him...to see the both of you...go..." She left unspoken that which he read in her eyes. Tarry here with me a while longer, they seemed to plead, to love me like you did last night.

"Well, perhaps..." he told her cautiously while stirring cream into his porridge, the heat rising up his neck an echo of that centered in his groin at just the thought of having her again. "...perhaps you've a chore or two more that we could manage for you. What do you think, Egg?"

The youngster nodded vigorously, dipping a plump, slippery strawberry into the cream pooled atop his porridge. "And get to sleep another night in a real bed? Absolutely, we should stay, Ser." He looked to Laelynne, "If you'll have us, that is."

Her lips were pursed against breaking into too obvious a smile for Egg's sake, but her eyes flitted to Duncan's, and her happiness for their change of plans was clear. "But don't you have guests arriving today, Laelynne?" he reminded her, "We wouldn't want to be in the way." 

"My guests," she laughed, smiling her sunniest for him, "I only said that in the hope that if you really weren't what you claimed to be, you'd have to think twice before murdering me."

Dunk's laughter started from a deep place in his chest, rising up like a wild bird set free from a cage. A hearty rumble that was soon amended by the piping notes of Egg joining in and then by the music of Laelynne's laugh. Amazing Dunk that only a day ago--no, not even that long--she had been weeping in his arms, bereft of any hope of joy. Oh, they'd be staying alright, for all their sakes. For a chance to be simply happy for at least a day or two more.

As their laughter trailed off, Egg was watching each of them in turn, and Dunk wondered if he sensed the change between man and woman. If he had, the boy chose not to speak of it, for now. "So, does that mean we're staying?" He left it for either to answer.

Laelynne leaned across the table towards him. "As Ser Duncan wishes, lad. For we've bread to get in the fire, you and I. And I trust you can handle the goats now, as well."

Dunk nodded when Egg turned his big eyes his way, and the boy turned back to Laelynne. "May I have more porridge first, though?"

"Always, Egg," she laughed, "Chores or no, you'll always get seconds at my table." She pushed the pot closer to the boy, then turned her attention to Dunk. "And you, Duncan--would you care for more?" She let her half-full spoon hover near her lips, the heat in her eyes encouraging his answer, and then she licked it clean.

"Aye, lady, I'll take what you offer. As much and as often as I can." 

"Seems...seems a fair deal then," she responded a little breathlessly. "Same terms as yesterday?"

"Whatever your will, Lael." Dunk ladled more porridge into his bowl, and without being asked, she passed him the cream. The mere brush of her fingers on his had him wondering if he could hold out until nightfall to have her again. The curve of her smile confirmed that her thoughts ran the same. For propriety sake, each turned their attention back to their breakfasts.

They carried on in companionable silence and again finished all the food she had set before them. Laelynne herself scooped up the last of roasted berries before addressing Dunk again. "If your will is, indeed, to stay another day, I thought I'd set some snares for supper meat. There's plenty of coney in the woods, and I've a deft hand with roasted rabbit."

"If you'd show where it's best to set them, Egg and I can set the traps. He's still developing his skill for it, and it would be great practice for him."

"If you prefer it, Duncan, I'd be happy to leave it to you. Where I came out of the wood yesterday, there's a beaten path that leads to the stream I draw my water from..." Dunk was listening well and nodding, but thinking how much he'd like to gently tug her braid and draw her close enough to kiss. And wishing that Egg would go see to the goats this very second.  "...across the stream is a nest of warrens, and as long as I don't try to trap too often, I usually come away with two or three rabbits. Enough to feed me for a week, but with your appetite," she laughed softly, "We'll see how far I can stretch the meat." She rose and collected the dishes for washing. "And since you lads will be doing the heavy lifting around here, for today at least, you can leave me your laundry. It's no burden for me to wash a few extra things."

Dunk rose when she excused herself from the kitchen, leaving through the half-door into the yard and heading for the chicken coop, presumably to feed them and collect the eggs. Silently, he considered the further benefits of extending their stay. "Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to stay a few days more, Egg. Rest the horses, as we've been on the road so long..."

"Ser?"

"...and there's that meadow just past where grows that small field of wheat. Plenty of space for me to practice and keep my sword sharp. Plenty of room for you to train..."

"Yes, Ser. It would be nice to stay some place for more than a night or two..."

"We could break out your waster, drill you in swordplay..." 

"Uh-huh," Egg agreed, "And maybe Laelynne will bake us another pie or two. That would be splendid!"

Oh, but Dunk had learned her body quite well through the night. Savored her softness and pliability; swallowed the sounds she gave over when he pleased her best. Committed to memory every sweep and curve of her form and her tender vulnerability. While each had discovered small treasures about one another as well, quiet insights gained as they lingered awake after hours of making love. Already he knew that he could be happy to wake to her laughter every morn of his life going forward. He'd been resting his head across her midriff, all warm and drowsy while she carded her fingers through his damp hair, soothing him into a silence that came close to dozing. Laelynne had been near to sleep herself. And then he had broken the quiet just by speaking her name; she had replied with a yawn, "Yes, Duncan?" 

"I'm hungry, lass," he had rumbled against her skin.

Her soft laughter had run across his flesh like a gentle stream, cool, refreshing, and life-giving. "Ah, well...there's not as much left in my larder as there was before you came through my door, Duncan, my..." She had sighed then and his heart had as well, for no woman had ever called him their own in any way, "...my dear, but what's there is yours for the taking..." To Dunk's mind, she had left unsaid what her body had seemed to tell him in every moment as he had taken her this time. As is my heart.

He had paused then, thinking to make a quick trip to her kitchen, but her warmth and the scent of their sins together, combined with the way she had just quietly claimed him, changed his mind. Instead, Dunk made his way up to the hollow of her throat with slow, open-mouth kisses that tickled her skin enough to get her giggling, until he was laughing as well, while tucking his face into the welcoming crook of her neck. The sweetness of her laughter only faded when he turned it into to moans, making love to her once more. This time as her man. As her Duncan.

Later on, as his thoughts ran their full course, with Laelynne snuggled at his side and idly tracing her fingers along the contours of his chest, Dunk realized that in the initial rush of their desire to be together, he had neglected a vital responsibility. Feeling the sudden guilt of such a failure, it slipped from his mouth unbidden. "I must beg your pardon, Laelynne...I'm...I'm so sorry, sweetling..." He had pulled her even tighter, as though his embrace could somehow soften his grave error.

"For what, love," she had purred warmly, nuzzling his flesh, "You've given me only reasons to be thankful." Her sigh was full, luxuriously warm breathed upon his skin, her voice rich with true satisfaction. "Repeated reasons. Beyond any dreams or wishes I might've ever had."

"I mean this, Lael..."

"As do I, Duncan..." Concerned, she raised her face to watch his, her voicing hitching quietly, "But...but are you...sorry now for the love that we've shared?" 

"Never, dear," he blurted out, eager to soothe over two wrongs now. "Never, never think it, sweet lass..."

"I don't...I don't understand, then..."

He turned his head to kiss her temple. "Forgive my foolishness, Laelynne," he began, "And forgive me, please, that I took you without asking first..."

She sighed again, in soft relief, "Was not every kiss my sure consent, sweet man?" Her lips painted fresh reminders of that across his chest. "Please...don't indulge in such troublesome thoughts. I swear I wanted you in my bed as much as I need air in my lungs."

"Laelynne..." he'd groaned, burying his hand in her hair, growing aroused again at her soft, tender treatment, though he needed to further explain, "I just...I should've...the thing is...a good man should..."

She froze a moment, both listening and encouraging, "A good man...yes?"

The shame of his failing sent his answer out on a rush of breath. "I should've asked first, if I could finish inside you..."

"What do you mean? I don't understand..." She'd been honestly perplexed.

"...as a man should do....so he doesn't...doesn't father a child..."

Laelynne was silent, though she slipped her free arm across his chest, clinging to him as she considered his claim. "Do...do they really? I didn't know that...I...I was only ever with..." 

"Yes," he said quietly, sparing her having to say it. "I...I don't suppose you really needed to."

"No, not at all," she whispered back.

"But...if you should now?" Dunk was already imagining the what if of it. The being forever tied to another soul--and to one as kind as Laelynne--that profoundly. The very thought raised the hair on his arms and sent a satisfying warmth through his veins.

She had gone her quietest and the seconds as she thought about it hung heavy about them. At last came her confident reply, "I say let us leave it in the gods hands, love." Laelynne rose and kneeled astride him, putting his needless shame to rest. "I had trouble enough kindling in my marriage bed, as the gods saw fit." She guided his hands to her breasts, urging him to deepen his caresses by squeezing his hands. Become surprisingly bold just for him, and in that moment, akin to a flame-haired, hungering goddess herself. "They give and they take with no explanations or mercy," she told him, beginning to pant hard as the crimson of her own arousal spread upwards from her chest to her neck to her cheeks. Dunk's mouth watered to take the hard peaks of her nipples against his tongue, yet he couldn't tear his eyes from the feral beauty she'd become. Her eyes were shut as she nodded her head, silently affirming her intent, but she was clear-eyed when she met his gaze again, "And I will have you sweet man, like a gift...and as that mercy denied me overlong."

The damp, irresistible heat of her pressed against his hard length shred all other concerns from his mind, before Laelynne had even begun to roll her hips and set them a rhythm, rubbing against him from his tip to his base. She leaned close, brushing her breasts against his chest, humming at the feel of her softness upon his firm muscles and spurring Dunk to brusquely trap her against him, with hands unyielding on her back. As she traced hungry kisses up his neck, he ran his hands along to the gentle curve of her waist, reminding himself--while he still could think clearly--not to hold her too tightly, not to bruise her precious flesh. Breathing hard between wet, passionate kisses, Laelynne caught his earlobe between her teeth. "I'll have more of you, Duncan...more and more...and have you spill inside me. Deep as can be."

The sudden greediness in her voice had him utterly entranced, as she reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Shamelessly, she guided it to her slit, strengthening her grasp while she broached herself with just the first few inches. Laelynne lingered exactly that way, teasing him by clenching her muscles until he couldn't bear to wait any longer and rutted up into her core. No subtlety, no taking their time, nor even concern if she was ready to take him in full. Just making him need to bury himself to the hilt. Her walls fit him like a glove made just for his hand, so that he lost himself in her perfect wet friction caressing every ridge and vein as he pumped up into her. Her moans turned so wicked sounding, matching his own, both rising above the wet sounds that followed each deepening thrust.

When she straightened again, Laelynne stilled a moment, watching him with a soft sort of dazed expression on her face which made him long to tell a truth he'd arrived at far too soon. That his heart belonged to her already. That he'd already fallen deep, against all sense in the world. Impossible it was, yet somehow true. She smiled at him then--as though she read it on his face--then bit her lip, closed her eyes, and began to rotate her hips. Circling one way several times, then circling back. Again and again, in a slow steady pace. His mouth hung open as he watched her, breathing in time with her movements, kneading her breasts again, rolling her hard, ruddy nipples in his fingers, and reading in her gasps and moans when the pleasure he gave her equaled his own. Her normally quiet manner had never hinted at such brazeness in her nature, and Dunk felt a hunger to make all such revelations his alone.

"Mmmm...gods, I love how you fill me...don't stop, Duncan...don't stop...don't ever stop..." The desperation in her voice, how his name fell from her lips, had his brain growing foggy as his body sought to answer her demands. Dunk grabbed her hips to hold her in place, grinding against her at the peak of each thrust, his reward Laelynne hoarsely cooing each time he hit his full depth.

"Mine," he grunted, the need to completely possess her overwhelming him, "Mine...say you're mine now, Lael...only mine..." 

Laelynne was nodding, but only managed to hum out, "...yours...ever yours..." and then her walls were rippling around him, coating him with her release, but he held still as she rode her pleasure through, knowing he could go a while longer. Already greedy to make it happen for her again.

Once her shoulders slumped and her breathing evened out, Dunk gave a slow, shallow thrust. "Ooooo...oh...that's mmmm...not done yet," She asked, her eyes going wide with the question.

"No, lass. Not yet," he smirked, proud of how she'd come for him, but eager to continue. "But can you take another?"

Silently bidding him watch her, Laelynne stretched her arms above her head, out to her very fingertips. Purposefully. Langorously. Humming in her throat, then combing her fingers through her hair. "Aye, sweet man. As you desire it of me." And then Laelynne leaned back, bracing herself on his legs. With her eyes closed and from the crown of her head down her flawless throat to her freckled chest and the taut plane of her belly, her body was tensed and arched like a bow ready to spring. To his eyes she was an unearthly, pale-skinned beauty, stealing his breath with every gyration and with every sound that she made.

Her hips were just out of his easy reach, so Dunk planted his hands on her thighs, anchoring her to him as they moved together. The change in angle for them both was so intensely blissful that she keened her delight with his every upward thrust. Realizing his time might be nearer than he'd thought, he slid his right hand to her glistening lips to finger her swollen bud, needing to feel her satisfaction again before giving into his own. But seeing himself actually fuck her, watching the foam ring of their mixed fluids coat his base as he pumped himself relentlessly into her dripping cunt, triggered something greedy and primal inside him, sending him careening to the edge. "Fuck...oh fuck...ooohhh fuck..." he groaned through gritted teeth, "Laelynne...I'm...oh, fuck...now...". Powerful spasms overtook him at last, her muscles clenching around him as she peaked as well, the hot jet of his seed filling her exactly as she'd sought from him. Dunk got lost in it, white light in his brain, pure bliss in his veins, the rock-hard tension in his muscles snapping into a euphoria that left him feeling weightless and timeless, husked out but content, and connected only to she he now treasured the most. His lovely Laelynne.

She had rocked forward as she finished, her arms suddenly too weak to support her properly, breath heaving as she lay her cheek against his shoulder. Her weight upon him was like a feather, her flesh slick and hot as though feverish. As Dunk came back to himself, his first impulse was to soothe her however he might, so he wrapped one arm around her and cradled the back of her head with his other hand, gently easing her onto her side. Laelynne hissed softly as he shifted with her, "No...stay in me please...I want it to last..."

"There, my sweet lady," he whispered, softly kissing her face. "I have you now and I swear I won't let go."

She gave a long sigh of mixed relief and exhaustion. "Ooohhh...you truly are a good man, Duncan. Mayhap the best...the best I've ever known..." His heart, at that, felt like to burst with wonder, and with an ache to make that fullness never end. By the time that nature took its course and he had, at last, slipped from inside her, Laelynne lay fast asleep within his arms. He soon followed, sated as never before in his life, feeling that--if only just briefly--he was loved for simply being the man that he was.

He woke to a soft breeze and full sunlight coming through the open window. Alone. And aching in places he'd never ached quite this way before. Which got Dunk smiling to himself, recalling exactly why his muscles were so sore. Laelynne. Both her linens and his skin still held her scent, and Dunk took a moment to bury his face in the pillow, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Marking the aroma--fresh bread, sweet apple cider, summer berries, mixed with the scent of the deeds they'd done together--as forever Laelynne. His Lael.

Of course, she had let him sleep past the time she'd left his side, for her nature--as he'd swiftly learned--was to see to others needs before her own. He could picture her rising from the bed they had shared, moving gingerly, taking the greatest care not to disturb him. Barefoot, she had picked her dress up from the floor, leaving her chemise where he'd discarded it last night. Stepped into it, she had done up the lacing, before going to the window and throwing wide the shutters. Surely, for the comfort of a cool breeze on his skin--but also to air the room a bit. It had needed it.

Dunk swung his legs over the side of her bed, stretching thoroughly before he stood up, trying to soften the stiffness in his hips, thighs, and lower back. Whatever small discomfort was there was well worth the pleasure he'd been given. He wondered how Laelynne felt this morning, and hoped what marks he might have left on her were gentle ones. Just remembering the sight of her smooth skin in the shuttered moonlight, the glorious arch of her breasts into his hands, the dark auburn curls at the juncture of her thighs, flooded his cheeks with heat and had him growing hard again. This won't do, he told himself, striding to the window, You can't just show up in her kitchen this way. Some measure of modesty must be maintained.

Once calmed, Dunk threw on his shirt and breeches, so eager to see how she fared, that he carried his boots with him just to get to the kitchen sooner. Coming to the doorway, he ducked beneath the lintel, to find Laelynne and Egg together, preparing breakfast

Dunk leaned against the doorframe, just watching them for a wee bit. Allowing himself a little space to dream. Laelynne and Egg had their backs to him, speaking too quietly for him to quite make out what they were saying, though their speech would occasionally be punctuated with bursts of laughter. Sometimes just one of them, but all the sweeter when it was both. She was showing the boy how to knead the dough for this day's bread; she'd given Egg his own little ball of dough to work with, and Dunk had no doubt that when the time came she would set it to bake next to her own, and when it was through, the boy would proudly show him the product of his hands. Clearly, Laelynne was a far gentler teacher than he. 

This must be what it's like to have a family, Dunk mused. We could be happy here, Egg and I. That single night could be stretched into several, then stretched to weeks, and thus to months, and what lay beyond that? A simpler life than Dunk had ever aspired to, far different than one with his aim ever to be the chivalrous man of arms he had become. Egg could be happy here, assuming the role of Dunk's son, freed forever from the painful, complicated family intrigues that had originally driven him to seek anonymous service as Dunk's squire. And from there, their family could grow.

After last night, Dunk could feel how easy it would be to fall into the part of husband and father. Could see it in his minds eye, standing exactly so in, say, two or three years time. Egg would've had a growth spurt, the one he'd been longing so for. Six inches taller, with his hair remaining shorn, for he still couldn't bear the reminder of his family heritage and his brother's madness. The task of shaving their boy's head usually fell to Laelynne these days, but she had never asked why, out of respect for the bond Dunk and Egg shared well before they came into her life.

And Laelynne. Heavy with his child, her full curves astonishingly beautiful, enough to make him want her all the time these days as though he was caught in some sort of love spell. It wasn't always wise to give in, they couldn't always give in, but gods how he loved her, body and soul!

She was near to her time to deliver, the seams of her simple dress straining but never giving way. The midwife predicted a girl, and when his woman spoke of this in the late night hours before sleep stole them from one another, it was with grateful tears. Dunk was happy just to be the man blessed enough to spark the life within her and continue the healing she had needed so desperately. His imagining further showed an infant girl with a fuzz of pale ginger hair, so dainty it was hard to fathom that she could be his, asleep at her mother's breast. The beauty of it was so bittersweet and so impossible it nearly drove him to his knees.

Dunk shook his head, meaning to drive the beautiful, useless images from his mind. Such daydreaming was impractical, and normally he only indulged his imagination this way when sleep eluded him and he needed a distraction. But several feet away were two very real people he was blessed to care about, and that's where his focus need lay. "Good morning," he called to them, his voice still dusky from sleep.

They both turned to face him, but Dunk's eyes sought hers at once, finding in them the same softness she had shown him all through the night before. He knew his own face must be reflecting everything he was feeling; that were Egg not in the room, he would still not need to speak aloud his wonder at all that he and Laelynne had shared. Her smile said the same.

"Do knights usually lay abed this late, Ser Duncan," she teased him lightly, "Or were your...exertions...yesterday, on my behalf, overly exhausting?"

"Nay, Laelynne," he grinned, hands tucked in his pockets as he approached her. Charmed at her sly double-meaning in front of the boy, Dunk choose his words slowly, carefully, answering her tone and meaning with full meaning of his own. "Had I more hours to spend on the...tasks...you set me to, I would've completed each to...your satisfaction...with no complaint at all...and with full and...ready...vigor." That brought the pretty blush to her cheeks that he'd been seeking.

Laelynne inhaled sharply and laid the back of her wrist to her forehead. "Gods, but this kitchen is far too hot already..." She was panting softly, the rhythm of the rise and fall of her breath mesmerizing him. "And...and your boy is very hungry, but I told him we must wait breakfast just for you. Will you sit at table now?"

"Only once you do, lass." The urge he felt to take her hand was nearly irresistible.

Egg had already set the bowls and spoons for their meal, then turned to help Laelynne deliver it to table. A pot of porridge, a bowl of freshly roasted strawberries, and a small pitcher of cream. "I fetched the strawberries myself, Ser, from the little patch across the road. They're the sweetest that I ever tasted."

"Aye, he's quite the kitchen helper, Duncan. I'll be very sorry to see him...to see the both of you...go..." She left unspoken that which he read in her eyes. Tarry here with me a while longer, they seemed to plead, to love me like you did last night.

"Well, perhaps..." he told her cautiously while stirring cream into his porridge, the heat rising up his neck an echo of that centered in his groin at just the thought of having her again. "...perhaps you've a chore or two more that we could manage for you. What do you think, Egg?"

The youngster nodded vigorously, dipping a plump, slippery strawberry into the cream pooled atop his porridge. "And get to sleep another night in a real bed? Absolutely, we should stay, Ser." He looked to Laelynne, "If you'll have us, that is."

Her lips were pursed against breaking into too obvious a smile for Egg's sake, but her eyes flitted to Duncan's, and her happiness for their change of plans was clear. "But don't you have guests arriving today, Laelynne?" he reminded her, "We wouldn't want to be in the way." 

"My guests," she laughed, smiling her sunniest for him, "I only said that in the hope that if you really weren't what you claimed to be, you'd have to think twice before murdering me."

Dunk's laughter started from a deep place in his chest, rising up like a wild bird set free from a cage. A hearty rumble that was soon amended by the piping notes of Egg joining in and then by the music of Laelynne's laugh. Amazing Dunk that only a day ago--no, not even that long--she had been weeping in his arms, bereft of any hope of joy. Oh, they'd be staying alright, for all their sakes. For a chance to be simply happy for at least a day or two more.

As their laughter trailed off, Egg was watching each of them in turn, and Dunk wondered if he sensed the change between man and woman. If he had, the boy chose not to speak of it, for now. "So, does that mean we're staying?" He left it for either to answer.

Laelynne leaned across the table towards him. "As Ser Duncan wishes, lad. For we've bread to get in the fire, you and I. And I trust you can handle the goats now, as well."

Dunk nodded when Egg turned his big eyes his way, and the boy turned back to Laelynne. "May I have more porridge first, though?"

"Always, Egg," she laughed, "Chores or no, you'll always get seconds at my table." She pushed the pot closer to the boy, then turned her attention to Dunk. "And you, Duncan--would you care for more?" She let her half-full spoon hover near her lips, the heat in her eyes encouraging his answer, and then she licked it clean.

"Aye, lady, I'll take what you offer. As much and as often as I can." 

"Seems...seems a fair deal then," she responded a little breathlessly. "Same terms as yesterday?"

"Whatever your will, Lael." Dunk ladled more porridge into his bowl, and without being asked, she passed him the cream. The mere brush of her fingers on his had him wondering if he could hold out until nightfall to have her again. The curve of her smile confirmed that her thoughts ran the same. For propriety sake, each turned their attention back to their breakfasts.

They carried on in companionable silence and again finished all the food she had set before them. Laelynne herself scooped up the last of roasted berries before addressing Dunk again. "If your will is, indeed, to stay another day, I thought I'd set some snares for supper meat. There's plenty of coney in the woods, and I've a deft hand with roasted rabbit."

"If you'd show where it's best to set them, Egg and I can set the traps. He's still developing his skill for it, and it would be great practice for him."

"If you prefer it, Duncan, I'd be happy to leave it to you. Where I came out of the wood yesterday, there's a beaten path that leads to the stream I draw my water from..." Dunk was listening well and nodding, but thinking how much he'd like to gently tug her braid and draw her close enough to kiss. And wishing that Egg would go see to the goats this very second.  "...across the stream is a nest of warrens, and as long as I don't try to trap too often, I usually come away with two or three rabbits. Enough to feed me for a week, but with your appetite," she laughed softly, "We'll see how far I can stretch the meat." She rose and collected the dishes for washing. "And since you lads will be doing the heavy lifting around here, for today at least, you can leave me your laundry. It's no burden for me to wash a few extra things."

Dunk rose when she excused herself from the kitchen, leaving through the half-door into the yard and heading for the chicken coop, presumably to feed them and collect the eggs. Silently, he considered the further benefits of extending their stay. "Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to stay a few days more, Egg. Rest the horses, as we've been on the road so long..."

"Ser?"

"...and there's that meadow just past where grows that small field of wheat. Plenty of space for me to practice and keep my sword sharp. Plenty of room for you to train..."

"Yes, Ser. It would be nice to stay some place for more than a night or two..."

"We could break out your waster, drill you in swordplay..." 

"Uh-huh," Egg agreed, "And maybe Laelynne will bake us another pie or two. That would be splendid!"