Eliza Knight - The Rules of Chivalry (16 page)

His fingers slid into her center, pumping in time with the flicking of his tongue, and all her morbid thoughts disappeared to be replaced by a vast canvas of desire, pleasure,
ecstasy
.
Elena
gripped his shoulders to steady herself, her hips rocked with his ministrations, and her eyes closed in silent delight.

Pressure built within he
r. S
he was on the brink of something, she wasn’t sure what, couldn’t comprehend it,
only
knew she wanted him to keep going. A spark popped in the hearth just as her body broke
apart,
wave after wave of piping hot fire tore its way through her womb, her limbs, her heart. The shriek of pleasure she gave was sure to wake up the entire castle.

Her knees gave way, and Michael steadied her, laying her down on the fur rug. Another wicked sense of enjoyment rippled through her as the soft rug tickled her bare flesh.

“Oh, Michael,” she murmured.

A soft scratching at the door cleared her desire
-
filled haze, fear taking over.

“My lady, is everything all right
? We heard…
something.”
Raelyn’s
voice echoed questioningly on
the other side of the door.

Elena’s face flamed hot. No doubt, her maid ran to her room when she didn’t hear the belligerent shouts of her husband, only Elena’s shouts of pleasure.

Elena
tried to speak, but her voice came out a harsh, choked whisper. She cleared her throat.
“Just a nightmare,
Raelyn
.”

Elena could sense
Raelyn’s
hesitation on the other side of the door. A long pause followed.

“Sweet dreams,” her maid finally said. “We shall inform any visitors you are not to be disturbed.”

Considering it was well into the middle of the night,
Raelyn’s
words were almost humorous. If anything
,
they gave away that she knew Elena had a guest. She
flopped
her arm over her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut.

For once, she had let herself go. Fell quickly into Michael’s
embrace
and enjoyed the most deliciously carnal pleasure of her life, and she’d been caught. Her insides warred between telling him he must go, and
letting him please her further.

Michael’s soft laugh caught her attention, and she peeked at him through hooded lashes.

“I believe your maid feared for your safety.” He lay down beside her, pulling her once again into his arms. “I think she’s not heard you shout like that before.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, feeling the heat once again enflame her face. “’Tis a dangerous game we play.”

Michael nodded, his fingers trailing circles over her belly. “One I wish to play again.” He kissed her breast, his lips
tantalizing
her flesh. He blew gently over her nipple until it puckered, strained for him to take it into his mouth. And he didn’t leave her waiting long.

His lips circled the turgid bud
, tongue
fluttering around it
. She moaned low in her throat, the sparks that had so recently tamped down, flaring up once again.

“You make me feel so good, Michael. I’ve never—” She didn’t know how to express what was the rapture he brought to her.

“’Twas your pleasure, a peak, the pinnacle of desire.
When I stroked you with my tongue…” He licked her nipple again. “When I thrust my fingers inside you…” His fingers caressed down her belly, over her
mons
and sank once again into her flesh. “You came alive.”

Elena
bucked her hips, arched her back.
“
Aye
.”

“Your reactions are so honest, so
passionate,
you make me dizzy with desire for you.” He slipped his fingers from inside her and grasped her hand. “Touch me, feel what you do to me.”

He placed her hand on his engorged member, straining the confines of his woolen breeches. The muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes glazed, and he moaned. His reaction to her touch only made her
more bold
. She stroked him, enjoying the heavy weight of him in her palm. He was large, much larger than Kent, she feared they wouldn’t fit. But at the same time, urgency took over.
She wanted him to sink inside
her, the most intimate part of him, touching her, pulsing within her. She wanted him to peak, to reach the pinnacle of their desire together.

Pushing
him onto his back,
she
was o
vercome with a need to be in charge, and Michael acquiesced to her silent demand. She unthreaded the ties of his breeches, pulled them down to his ankles, not bothering to remove his boots. She stared hungrily at his rigged length as it jut out from his body, long, hard, thick.

Elena moved to straddle his hips, desire coursing through her. Her gaze locked with his. Hungry blue-green eyes devoured her from head to toe.
Michael
threaded
his fingers
with hers, placing them on his chest. His hips thrust up at the same time she sank down, taking him fully inside her, stretching her. She was surprised when no pain
accompanied his invasion, even more surprised when hot rampant sensations whipped through her. Her body dripped with need, coating him, easing his entrance. She didn’t even know that a woman’s body could do that, would do that. All the more reason she loved this knight. Her body had a mind of its own, and demanded she mate with him, demanded satisfaction, demanded pleasure anew.

She rocked her hips back and forth, up and down, swirled them in a circle, finding her rhythm, melding it with his. Her head fell back as once again rapture enveloped her, taking her to heights she’d never known.

He moved his hands to her hips, stroking her, holding her steady as he thrust inside her. He massaged her breasts, tickled her belly and ribs,
came
up on his elbows to nip at her flesh as he continued to plunge deeper, faster
. She met each thrust
with a rock of her hips.

And then it was there again. Her body winding tighter and tighter, round and round, until it snapped,
unraveling,
shattering. Michael captured her mouth at the moment she reeled, taking her moans with it. He pulsed inside of her, his own groans of satisfaction melding with hers.

They collapsed in a heap of damp, tangled limbs, sated sighs on their lips.

As they held hands, their contented murmurs filling the room, Elena
was aware of
one thing
—t
onight had irrevocably changed everything. No longer could she live without Michael, and never again would she let her husband touch her.

***
**

He snuck from the shadows outside of her ladyship’s chamber. His knees ached from standing rigid. From waiting hours to know for sure about the events that took place within. He’d watched the captain and the lady as they raced, hand in hand for her chamber.
None the wiser to who might lurk.

A wicked smile curved his lips.

Imbeciles.

They should have known better
than
to run carefree, adulterous desire raging from their bodies.
Oh, they’d looked about them.
Made a good effort too.
But he was good.
Hid too well.
They were lucky he wasn’t of a mind to tell his lordship.

It hadn’t taken long before the shouts of pleasure could be heard. Who did they think they were fooling?

His cock was full, throbbing from the sounds of their fucking. Her ladyship had never entertained him thusly, even though he’d made it more than clear he would have taken her.

Damn, Devereux.
The captain
owed him more than he knew. Of all the cocks in England, it had to be
that
bastard’s
that took the flesh he so badly desired

He skulked down to the great hall, snores from the wounded sounded loudly. Behind a screen he found what he was looking for. A servant girl slumbered, hair the color of straw, not as shiny and lustrous as their mistress, but she would do. He rolled her over roughly, and climbed on top of her. Her eyes widened with shock, fear. He clamped his hand over her mouth.
Fumbled with his
breeches
, her skirts.
He thrust into her.
Pounded into her flesh.
He took out his frustration, anger, desires on the girl. He didn’t hear her moans of pain, only the shouts of pleasure from Lady Elena.

And when he came, he imagined it was her ladyship. But he wasn’t sated. Not fully. Nothing could satisfy him like she could. His member rose again, and he continued to thrust inside the serving wench, coming twice more before he could no longer go on. And still he wasn’t satisfied. He raged with an internal desire so rampant that only Lady Elena would be able to soothe him.
Only her.

Chapter Thirtee
n

E
lena slept well. So well in fact, she didn’t wake up until well past mass. She hurried to ready herself, all while trying to ignore the curious glances from her ladies. Lucky for her, Michael had risen at some point in the night and disappeared without ever being discovered.

“Are you well, my lady?”
Raelyn
asked, finally.

Elena looked at her indifferently, even though she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Quite well.
Is ought amiss?”

Raelyn
narrowed her eyes, but knew well her place not to question her further. Elena wanted so dearly to break out into laughter and tell her ladies all about her
night
, but she knew she could say nothing.

“Mass has been said, but Father Patrick is still at the chapel if you’re wishing to…seek confession?”
Raelyn
said with a raised brow.

Sly little chit, trying to coax it out of her.

“Prayer at my
prie
dieu
will suffice.” Elena knelt before her private altar and mumbled her prayers. Afterwards, she absently picked at the bread and
cheese
her ladies laid out for her to break her fast. She grabbed a chunk of brown bread and stuffed it in her mouth, suddenly raveno
us, and then took a hunk of cheese
to the window where she stared at the bailey grounds.

She took bites off the
cheese
as she watched the men below. Half of
them
worked on repairs of the battlements, and others on the rest of the damage, none the wiser to what happened to her the night before.
None knowing how much she’d changed.

The other half of the soldiers repaired any damage that was done on the outer wall, the gate and the drawbridge from
the battle.

How could she have forgotten? In her euphoria from the night before, she’d
neglected
the wounded in the great hall below.

“How are the wounded?” she asked.

“We lost one sometime in the night, my lady,” Beth offered. “Mercy has returned, giving draughts and changing bandages.”

“She could use my help.” Elena stuffed one more bite in her mouth and downed a large gulp of ale. “
Come,
let us tend to the people.”

On the stairs she paused and turned to her ladies, who nearly bumped into one another in their haste to stop. “What of the earl?”

“
Still asleep
,” Olivia whispered.

Elena nodded and headed back down the spiral stairs. Relief flooded her. The last thing she wanted to deal with was her husband.
He rose later and later, imbibing in more and more drink.
How she hated the man, hated that he’d wed her. If only her father had let her marry Michael as she’d told him she wanted to often enough as a girl.

They entered the great hall, and immediately she was awash with the scents of blood and sickness. Some of the wounds were becoming infected. Mercy sat in the middle of the room beside a soldier, unwinding a strip of gauze from his puss covered chest wound. Elena cringed, and ordered the servants to bring more boiled water for the healer. She then ordered the used, rancid gauze and linens to be burned. A set of servants were orde
red to scrub down the floors with
boiling water and lye to keep disease at bay.

The last thing they needed was for
some malady
to strike.

After things were set to rights and the wounded seen to for the time being, Elena went in search of Michael.

She found him in the lower bailey by the main gate. He
was giving instructions to several masons and their apprentices on how he wanted the walls and gate strengthened. He turned to her, his hand gripping her elbow gently as he walked with her away from prying ears.

“Good morning, my lady,” he whispered, his eyes catching hers. In that moment she heard what he really wanted to say, saw it in his eyes how much he loved her.

“Good morning.” She tried not to blush.

“To what do I owe this honor? Are you well? You aren’t…sore are you?”

“Sore? No.” She shook her head. “My body is still singing from last night,” she said shyly.

He smiled with male satisfaction. “Would that we could run away today and I could make you sing all over again.”

Elena smiled, getting lost in his eyes. What a pleasant thought his words brought on. Flashes of his hands and mouth on her body
caused her to tremble
. She rubbed her arms as tingling bumps rose along their length.

“Michael, you mustn’t speak like that in public. Someone is bound to notice our desire…and assume we have been unseemly together.”

“
Aye
, desire.”
His gaze greedily roved over her
, sending a flush from her breasts up her neck. “But you are right
. W
e shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves. There are several knights within Kent’s retinue that would still see me tossed out of here
—
see
that I’m
drawn and quartered. They are looking for any excuse as is Kent. We shan’t give it to them.”

Elena shook her head. “No. We will have to be cautious.”

“
Aye
.”
Michael looked around as if trying to find those who would cause them harm at that moment. “I long to kiss you though,” he muttered.

“And I you.”
Elena bit her lip, and when their
extended conversation started to draw the stares of more than one passerby, she knew it was time to get to the point of finding him and leave all manners of courting behind. “I came to find out specifically if any more outlaws had been seen? Is there danger of another attack?”

Michael took out his dirk and knelt to the ground drawing a wide circle. “This is Kent, my lady.”

Her heart ached for Ireland at that moment. How many times had they sat out in the fields like this, with Michael drawing pictures for her in the ground so she might
better understand his meaning?

“The outlaws came from here.” He drew some shapes that resembled trees. “Yet those that retreated went here.” He pointed to the north.

“Do you think it was planned that way?
To divert your attention.”

The tip of his dirk came to rest on his chin and he turned it back and forth making her nervous that he might cut himself. He looked deep in thought.
Pressing
his li
ps together, Michael shook his head.

“I feel as though I am being set up. Part of me wonders if Kent didn’t hire those men himself to attack the village. He wants me out and I don’t know why.
I think he expected to have a different man take position here.
One like himself.
He doesn’t like how I’ve taken the men in hand and the respect that most show me.
”

“He is a vicious man, Michael. But do you really think he would attack his own village?”

He shook his head again and stood. “I think he would do a lot of things. He doesn’t care for human life, only for power.
If it makes him look more powerful to defeat a band of outlaws,
aye
.
If it makes him look more powerful for me to fail and for himself to succeed, then
aye
.”
He put his dirk back into the loop at his hip. “No matter, I’ve posted men as scouts, and men are out on patrol as we speak. I have masons
working on reinforcing the walls and the gate. I’ve talked to the fletcher and the blacksmith who are both at work creating new weapons. We shall be ready if another attack comes.”

“And the men, do they work with you?”

“A little more than half are now with me. Those who aren’t do so begrudgingly, save a couple who outright refuse to listen. But I shall continue to work with them on their fighting skills. I will train them until they break and see that I am their
leader, that
they answer to me.”

Elena smiled. “I have no doubt you will win them over and soon, Michael.”

He lifted his chin toward the keep. “And the wounded, how do they fare?”

“We lost one in the night. Several have succumbed to fever and infection, but Mercy is working hard to get them all well again. I think it will be at least a week or two before we can say for sure.”

A shout from the men atop the outer wall diverted Michael’s attention. He signaled with his hands, and then turned back to Elena.

“I must go. But I will see you soon.” He bowed to her before turning to attend his men.

Elena stood watching for a moment longer and then turned
toward
the chapel. She did indeed need the solace and peace of God, for she w
ished
more than anything
that
Michael
would
pick her up and carry her away, Kent be damned.

*****

Kent ordered the sick out of his great hall.

Servants bustled to and fro with supplies and cleaning, as the soldiers carried the wounded down to the dungeon.

“Get them out of here! They are stinking up my hall!” Kent bellowed.

No one dared question him. He would only retaliate with his fists if they did. After three days of the wounded taking away his space, the lord
was through with
it. He
tripped over one of the wounded in his drunken stupor and ended up nearly beating the man to death before he realized it was an unconscious soldier and not someone out to get him.

For the past three days
Elena
had
avoided Kent at all costs taking her meals in her room
. She stole from her room
to tend to the sick early in the morning and late at night when Kent would most likely still be suffering from too much ale.

But this
night she’d
crept
down
, but she’d come too early for Kent
bellowed and cursed for the sick to be removed.

“Elena!” he roared in her direction. “Did you order this? Did you tell them to put these beggars in my hall?”

Anger seethed inside her at what he was doing. These men should not be moved until they were well. They’d risked their lives for their lord and he repaid them by having them sent to the dank and dark dungeon to recover?
They would
most likely die within the week if they were kept there.

S
he dared to answer, but she did not meet his eyes. “They are your men, my lord.
They suffered wounds when the castle
was attacked. You ordered them
to be placed here to be tended.”

Several servants stopped what they were doing to watch. Their eyes darted from lord to lady in distressed silence. Elena took a chance to spy Kent’s face. His eyes bulged, his face was puffy and red, and his mouth moved into a silent snarl. He stalked forward and his thick fingers pressed painfully to her chin as he lifted her face to his.

“What did you just say to me, you insolent wench?” He shook her face, and pain seared within her head at the jolt. “Dare you question me? Try to make me look like a fool? You’re the fool. I should beat you for talking to me like that,” he threatened.

Fear trickled along her spine. Where was Michael? How she wished he could come and whisk her away. She hadn’t spoken to him since the few days prior in the bailey, both of them so busy with trying to get the village and castle
back to rights after the attack.

“Answer me!” he bellowed. Spittle landed on her cheeks, the scent of stale ale and rotting meat coming with it.

She tried not to vomit, and instead took in a deep breath.  “I would never question you, my lord,” she managed.

He let go of her face with a little shove, wh
ich sent her stumbling backward
. She stretched her jaw from side to side, knowing there would be bruised fingerprints on her chin by morning. No one in the great hall moved. She didn’t think they were even breat
hing, wanting to melt into the floor just as much as she did.

“Want to play mistress with me, eh?” His voice was deadly low as he looked at her with contempt. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the hair, dragged her over to a nearby table, stumbling as he went, so deep in his cups was he. He thrust her face down on the table, the wood top of a loose peg jamming into your cheekbone. She hissed in pain and fisted her hands. He leaned over her, his putrid mouth against her cheek. “You’re a little bitch, you know that? You need to be taught a lesson.”

He ground his pelvis into her backside as he spoke. “Shall I teach you a lesson in front of everyone?”

A tear trickled out of Elena’s eye, over her nose and onto the table. Kent had humiliated her before but never like this. Would he truly rape her in front of all the servants? She wouldn’t be able to bear it. If it came to that she would run up to the top of the parapet and throw herself to the ground below.