Genevieve held the King's coat tight around her, closed with her fist at her breast. She had recognized how scandalous the situation was and Genevieve felt a little embarrassed, her cheeks reddened considerably and she lowered her gaze as the King set her upon the horse provided. It had been a long time since she had felt this way.<br/><br/>It wasn't until Genevieve felt the heat of the King against her back, did she relax. It was a comfort to her.<span style="font-style: italic">“Hang on tight.”</span>She could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest and the timber of it soothed her mind. A smile pulled at Genevieve's lips as the King took off in the opposite direction of the palace. The wind in her hair was exhilarating! And Genevieve let herself laugh for a moment. Her laughter died down, however, as they slowed and stopped in a shadowed canopy of trees.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Genevieve.”</span><br/><br/>The sound of her name on his lips made her tremble. It was the way he said it. Butterflies fluttered and Genevieve pressed a hand against her stomach to settle them. With his hands firm upon her waist, she let him lift her off his horse and set her gently upon the ground, all the while she couldn't break his gaze. His lips upon her neck? She had never known such passions that began to heat her chest. Genevieve gasped and her hands went to his forearms. They were firm in her grasp, no doubt he worked hard to stay lean and healthy.<br/><br/>"My-" Genevieve paused. Should she call him My Lord? They were alone, propriety had already been thrown to the wind. Why should she? "Motto." She allowed herself to whisper his name as his kisses trailed down her neck to her collarbone. A part of her was dimly aware of his coat dropping from her shoulders and her back pressed against the stallion. If only his hands would undo her gown and they could-<br/><br/>No! This could not happen. Not yet. Oh, but how she yearned for it. For him! His hot breath condensating upon her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He was making his way past her collarbone, to the bosom just above the hemline of her gown. Genevieve's breath hitched and her grip upon the King's forearms tightened. She leaned her head back, her eyes closed, as she took in the heat of his lips, his passion. She was breathless.<br/><br/>"Motto." Genevieve groaned knowing this couldn't continue. "Please..." She was unsure what she was pleading for. For him to continue? To have the strength to stop himself where she did not? "We..we cannot do this." Genevieve's whimpers almost seemed inaudible to herself.  It took all her willpower to say those words. Oh goodness, but how were they supposed to make it another six days??