Authors: Mary McCall
Tags: #love, #knight, #medieval, #castle, #trust, #medieval historial romance
She looped her arms around
his neck, hiccupped then began sniffing his neck. “Merciful
heavens, you smell spicy and manly and good enough to eat.” Her
lips caught his earlobe and she sucked the sensitive flesh into her
mouth, swirling her tongue over the tip. “Ummm.”
Shocked by the tingle
shivering down his spine from her provocative ploy, he jerked his
head away. “What do you think you are doing?”
“
Finding out if you taste
as good as you smell.” Obviously not in the least concerned with
his surly tone, she sniffed more.
“
Well, cut it
out.”
“
Know what?” She hiccupped
and patted his cheek.
“
What?” he
grumbled.
“
You are scrumptious.” She
leaned back in his arms and tossed him a lopsided smile. “Both your
mouth and your ear taste good. I could eat you up.”
Bernon raised a brow,
suppressing unexpected amusement. How had she managed to overcome
his irritation? “You think so?”
“
Know what else?” she
asked, crinkling her nose.
She had an adorable
red-tipped nose. “I am sure you are going to tell me.”
“
Even if I have had too
much to drink, my body is still liking yours,” hiccup, “’cause my
bosom is getting all tingly and my belly is fluttering again. Will
you kiss me and rub my bottom like you did before?”
His loin tightened and he
increased his pace. “You may just get some magic tonight after
all.”
“
Thank you for not calling
me Barwolf in front of our king.” She patted his cheek then raked
her fingers through her hair and sighed. “I hate my name and I wish
you did not hate me.”
“
I do not hate
you.”
“
Aye, you do.” She nodded
vigorously. “’Tis why my father picked you.”
Bernon rolled his eyes. “I
said I do not hate you.”
“
Well, you are supposed to.
My father hated me too.” She hiccupped and frowned. “He said I was
the bane of his existence and a punishment God inflicted on all of
mankind. Then he knocked me upside my head.” She moved her face
directly in front of his and squinted. “I hope when you instruct me
that you are right-handed. I do not want to lose my hearing in my
right ear too.”
If her father stood before
him now, he would kill the dastard. ‘Twas nothing more dishonorable
than abusing weak women and children, and his bride easily fit both
categories. “I do not hit women and no one else will ever knock you
upside your head again.”
She sniffed the hollow of
his throat. “You smell good. Gr—r—r—r—r—r—r!”
“
What are you doing now?”
he asked, trying to keep a straight face. His little bride was
truly sloshed.
“
I am speaking bear.” She
rubbed her nose against the whiskers on his chin then giggled.
“That tickles.”
He raised an amused brow.
“Why are you speaking bear?”
“
Because I want a hug.” She
tightened her arms, pressed her breasts against his chest, and
rubbed against him.
Thank the Almighty, they
had reached their chamber. She was heated and he was hard . Kicking
open the door with his foot, Bernon stepped inside then shoved it
closed with his shoulder. He crossed the room and sat her on the
edge of the bed. She clung to him with an amazing strength for such
a little woman. “Let go of my neck, so we can get your clothes
off.”
She released his neck,
reached down for her hem, and fell against his unyielding abdomen
then started pressing on his stomach. “You are hard.”
“
You would not believe how
hard,” he muttered. He couldn’t believe how aroused her innocently
brazen remarks and touch were making him.
“
What did you say?” she
asked, looking up at him through bleary eyes.
“
I said I am supposed to be
hard.”
She hiccupped, grabbed the
hems of her kirtle and shift, and pulled them upon her knees.
“These will not come off. My girdle is still on. How do you suppose
I forgot something like that?”
She looked up at him like
she expected him to fix her problem, so Bernon unfastened
the
agraffe
securing the belt and removed the article.
She tugged on her hems
then raised a bewildered face. “I still cannot take my gowns off. I
am sitting on them. What do you suppose I should do about
that?”
“
Put your arms around my
neck.” She smiled and threw her arms around his neck with eager
abandon. He raised her and pulled the garments out from under her
then set her back down. “You can let go now.”
She squeezed tighter.
“Gr—r—r—r—r—r—r!”
“
In a minute.” He chuckled.
“Let us get your clothes off first.”
She let go, flung her arms
wide, and appeared bemused. “If we do that, then I will be naked.
What do you suppose about that?”
“
I suppose hugs are better
that way.” Bernon grabbed the hems, pulled the gown and shift over
her head, then threw the garments on the floor. Standing straight,
he stared down at his bride, sucking in his breath as Geno’s word
came to mind—exquisite, and every inch a woman.
“
You see what I mean.” She
thrust her chest forward and held a pert breast in each hand. “Too
big.” Then she set her hands on her tiny waist, which he could span
with his hands. “Too small.”
“
Just right,” he said,
cupping a firm round lobe. He ran a callused thumb over her nipple,
exciting it to a taut peak.
She gasped and looked at
him with surprise. “When you did that, I got a tingle that went all
the way down to my wet place.”
He grinned. “’Tis my turn
to taste you.”
Bernon leaned down,
flicked his tongue over her rosy nipple then drew the tight nub
into his mouth. Good God Almighty, she tasted sweet.
She arched her back and
moaned as he wrapped an arm around her waist and gently sucked her
breast. Her fingers slid through his hair and she held him close.
“Bernon, my body truly likes this a lot.”
He released her, and she
whimpered in protest until his mouth covered her other breast,
exciting a pleasured moan from her. Her uninhibited response was
making him crazed. And honest to God, scrumptious was a good word.
He intended savoring this feast no matter how badly he throbbed
with a need to claim her maidenhead as his own. He wanted to
explore her passion.
“
Bernon, do something. I am
getting achy.”
He continued suckling her
ripe fruit and lay her back upon the bed. Caressing downward, his
fingers invaded the golden curls between her legs and massaged her
delicate folds. She whimpered and writhed against the caress,
soaking his hand with her desire.
“
Something is happening,
Bernon,” she said in a shaky awed voice. “I feel very achy now, but
I like it. Rub me more.”
He slipped a finger into
her slick sheath and her moist heat gripped his flesh. God’s teeth,
she was tight and hot. He couldn’t wait for her to stretch around
his pulsating flesh.
She bucked against his
hand and tensed, clutching at his shoulders. “Bernon, what is
happening to me?”
He wouldn’t wait. Bernon
seized her mouth in a hot, demanding kiss. He thrust his tongue in
rhythm with his fingers, stroking her heat. She moaned deep in her
throat, and he reached with his free hand to pull the string on his
braies.
Without warning the tenor
of her moans changed. She jerked on his hair. He broke the kiss and
gazed at her distressed features. “Bernon, I think I am truly
getting sick.”
He barely got the basin
under her head before she began vomiting. Her heaves lasted a good
long while. Then she moaned, begging him to kill her and be done
with the torture.
She would never know how
much he wanted to accommodate her. He was stone hard and couldn’t
think of another woman at court who could possibly satisfy him. He
frowned at the thought. Who the woman was never mattered before and
he didn’t want it to matter now. He knew better than to allow any
woman such power.
Could this need to have
only her stem from her response? ‘Twas probably the first genuine
response he had ever witnessed. She told him everything her hot
body did and felt in such an unsophisticated way that he couldn’t
wait to hear what she would say next. Her woman’s core had felt so
small and slick around his finger that he hurt with a need to bury
himself within her. Damn if he didn’t feel his release draw near
just thinking about it. He clenched his jaw.
He could go on and take
her. She was his and ‘twas his right. He would be doing her a favor
too. She was so tiny that her first time was bound to be painful no
matter how careful he was. She probably wouldn’t even remember her
discomfort if he took her now.
What was he thinking?
Bernon took a deep breath and wiped a frustrated hand over his
face. He had never taken a drunken woman before. He was not about
to start with this young innocent who belonged to him. He didn’t
want a complainer on his hands. Not only would he have to see her
after tonight, she would be the mother of his children.
His thoughts turned to his
own mother. Funny.. .he couldn’t even remember her name or what she
looked like. He did recall the parade of men in and out of their
small hovel, having a baby named Balen shoved into his
seven-year-old arms, and waking to find her gone when he was
nine.
What would have become of
Balen and him if William hadn’t caught him stealing bread and taken
the two brothers in? Seven-year-old Geno had already gone to live
with William, removing the embarrassment of his birth and presence
from immediate proximity to the Roman Curia. With William as a
father figure, the three boys grew up as brothers and received the
finest training in warfare available.
Unlike Geno and Balen who
loved and enjoyed all women, Bernon saw his mother in every female
who crossed his path...until Maurella. As a naïve youth, he gave
his heart to the dark mysterious lady only for her to trample upon
it and scorn him. The night of their betrothal, he found her in bed
with another young warrior offering up her rosy body for perverted
pleasure. His innocent fiancée turned out to have more carnal
experience than all of William’s command combined. Two weeks after
he had broken off the betrothal, Maurella had the gall to claim she
carried his child. She had demanded justice from William. Thank the
Almighty his liege believed him when he said he hadn’t taken her.
Three weeks later he heard Maurella had died, trying to rid herself
of the child.
Bernon frowned. Would
Barwolf so easily abandon or discard a child? He would not allow
it. The only truly decent woman he knew was Queen Matilda, and she
would probably gladly raise any child he sent to her. Now that was
a sound plan. Any children he had with Barwolf could be raised in
royal style then returned to Strangclyf when diligent care and
observation were no longer required. He would inform his bride when
the time came. She was submissive and she obviously trusted him or
she would not have come to him for help. She would obey him and see
the rightness in his decision.
If he had to have a wife,
she wasn’t so bad. She was definitely raw material. He would train
her to be a good wife. He should not have any trouble molding her
into a dutiful handmaid who didn’t interfere with his well-ordered
life.
Bernon stared down at his
sleeping bride and his lips quirked. She had really cast off her
oars. She lay flat on her back with one arm flung over her and the
other lying limply by her head. A small slobber of drool trickled
from the corner of her mouth, which opened slightly with each
breath.
Tomorrow would be the
worst day of her young life. Thank the Almighty, he would not have
to watch her suffer.
~ * ~
Zut!
Why would God not be merciful and let her die?
Maybe she had. ‘Twas it!
She was dead and her eternal punishment was little men with a
catapult flinging tiny boulders inside her skull and an eternal
need to relieve herself. And if she moved, her head would splatter
from a ricochet shot.
Barwolf opened one eye.
Searing light laid siege to her brain. An anguished moan rolled off
her lips as the little men started using bigger rocks. Now she had
another urgent need. Do they have chamber pots in hell, or should
she just toss up on herself and add that to the
punishment?
She’d best find out fast!
Holding her head with both hands, she sat up and swayed. By good
fortune, the basin sat conveniently on the bed beside her. After
several moments of heaves, she carefully lay back down and sighed.
The little men had quit throwing stones. Now her whole head just
ached from the residual bruises. She still needed to relieve
herself too. ‘Twould have to wait. She was exhausted.
Opening her eyes, she
blinked at the bright light then glanced from side to side. Thank
the Lord, she was not in hell. She was back in Bernon’s chamber.
She scrunched her face into a frown that made her head hurt worse.
She remembered giving Bernon the title, then she embarrassed Bernon
in front of the king. Then Cedd showed up and she penned a note to
Aurick. Then what?