...Yerna shook her head. “Once or twice a lad slobbered over my face, long ago, when I was barely entering into womanhood. It was not pleasant at all, nothing like this.”

“Anything more?”

She responded with a second shake of her head. “Nay, that was more than enough for me. I began to think the other girls touched in the head when they went on about the delights of their frolics with their beaux. Either something was very wrong with me or maybe they were just pulling my leg, taunting tomboy Yerna with what she was allegedly missing.”

Haz brushed his lips across her brow. “We’ll continue then, and you can decide for yourself what the truth of the matter may be. First, you need to shed that shirt.”

He released her long enough to drag his own shirt over his head and toss it aside. For a moment, she stood paralyzed, but then at the sight of his beautiful bare torso, she cast caution to the winds and peeled off her own shirt, throwing it after his.

“I’m all over with sweat and dirt,” she apologized. “And I probably smell like a horse. I exercised my new mount before the morning meal.”

“That makes two of us,” Haz replied. “And I can guarantee we will both sweat more before we’re done with this deflowering you’ve requested. I intend to tup you thoroughly, and you’ll find it is not a neat and delicate bit of work. Have you not seen a cow with a bull or a mare with a stallion?”

This time her reply was a nod. “Aye, that I have. They tend to be noisy and a bit rough. You’ll not bite or paw me, will you?”

“No, I’m gentler than that, I promise. At least, none of my ladies have complained. I hope you’ll find no cause to either.”

Slowly and with stiff, awkward fingers, she reached to begin unwinding the linen band that flattened and protected her breasts. It seemed to take forever before she reached the final wrap and felt the air cool on her bared skin. Between the chill and the contrasting heat in Haz’s gaze, her nipples sprang up, pebble hard at once. If she could have fled at that instant, she might have done so, but it felt as if her feet were glued to the floor.

Haz looked at her for what seemed forever. A slow smile spread across his face. “Yes, perfect! How could you imagine yourself to be inadequate in any way? You’re beautiful.”

He reached then and slid the tips of his fingers slowly up her sides from her waist to just under her arms and then back down again. She shivered. The next pass, his palms brushed the sides of her breasts both ways. She sighed. And then, almost before she knew what was happening, his firm hands cupped both breasts, lifting and gently squeezing. She sagged. He caught her in his arms and drew her closer until skin met skin. Her sensitive nipples became aware of every silk-soft hair on his solid chest, and the rhythm of his heartbeat pulsed through her body.

Her eyes fell shut, despite the need she felt to watch his expression and take in his male beauty, which surely exceeded anything she had ever seen. The sense of touch was the only one that mattered now. Every cell of her body yearned toward him, needing this contact, the breeze of his breath across her skin, the tender abrasion of his hands. Although he did not have the tough and callused hands built from hard labor, his were not the soft, weak hands of one who did nothing more strenuous than lift a forkful of food or a glass of wine. Weapons left their calluses, too, and built strength. That he had in full measure.

At first, she could only slump against him, but soon she found a need to explore his body as he was hers. He still supported her with his right arm, but his left hand wandered, tickling, tender, terrible and so very enticing. She knew she could never get enough as liquid heat pooled between her legs and her skin tingled with fiery trails left by his teasing, tormenting caresses. She untangled one arm and traced her fingers along his ribs, reached to find the crease in his muscled back where his spine rested, slid under the waist of his trousers and found the swell of his solid butt.