by C. J. Pinard
He brushed her hair to the side and began peppering kisses up the side of her neck as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back flush to his front. His rock-hard erection was pressed against her backside, and this thrilled Mariselle.
Groaning softly at the feel of his lips on her neck, she shuddered as goosebumps erupted over her body and her knickers began to grow wet. She turned around and placed her arms around his neck as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue swept in to mingle with hers, and she shoved her body closer to his, not wanting even a millimeter of space between them.
Mathias looked around the greenhouse and spied a cutting table used to trim and arrange flowers. He picked her up by her plump bottom and she wrapped her legs around his middle as he walked them to the table. He set her down and began working the clasps to her gown. She reached down and untied his rope belt, then dropped it to the floor. Quickly shoving her hand down the front of his trousers, she loved hearing him groan when she wrapped her hand around his tight, hard, throbbing cock.
“Oh, Mariselle,” he murmured as he made quick work of pulling her dress down. Once it was around her waist, he picked her up and set her on the ground. He yanked it the rest of the way down over her hips, and then laid the gown on the crude wooden table. He stood and gazed at her extraordinary body, the curve of her hips, her full breasts, pink nipples, the glistening between her legs, and her creamy thighs. He pulled his pants down and kicked out of them, then shrugged his tunic off and tossed it to the ground.
She looked down at his jutting cock, then back into his eyes. “Take me now, Mathias.”
He closed the small distance and grasped her by the waist. With a single hoist, she was sitting on the table, her gown under her. She opened her legs to give him access, and he wrapped his arms around her, lowering his lips to devour her once more.
She was insane with arousal. She could feel his hard member pressed against her inner thigh, and she unconsciously wiggled her hips to try to get it to touch her throbbing core. She was so wet, she was sure the gown would have to be thrown into the discarded garment pile in the sewing room to be used as scrap.
“There’s something you should know,” Mathias breathed out between kisses. He couldn’t believe how good her tongue felt against his as they had been making out for a few torturous minutes.
“What is it, darling?” she asked, running her lips down his neck and her hands down his hard, muscular chest.
He pulled back, breathless, and stared into her eyes. With his hand on her face, he said, “You must know that… that…”
Becoming slightly alarmed, she stopped her wandering hands and placed them flat on his pecs. “What is it?”
“You’re my… I’ve never… fuck. I haven’t done this before.”
She blinked incredulously. “Done what? Made love in a garden?”
“Ever,” he deadpanned.
“Ever? Not once with any maiden?”
He shook his head. “No. Had plenty of castle maidens offer, but it never felt right, you know?”
She grinned. “And now you’re ready? At twenty-one years old, finally?”
He nodded and looked down at her mouth once more. “No more talking. I’m going to fuck you now.”
“Yes,” she squealed. She kissed him back hard and spread her legs wider in an invitation. After scooting her bottom all the way to the edge of the table, she gripped his hips and grasped his cock with her wet walls, drawing him inside her as they both cried out in lust.
“Oh, God, Mariselle. Your lady hole… it’s so incredibly hot and wet. I could do this all night.”
She tried not to giggle. “Don’t call it my lady hole, Mat. Pussy, kitty… something else.”
“I will call it goddess because I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he breathed out, beginning to pump faster and faster in and out of her.
His talk, his large dick stretching her to capacity, the angle at which she sat as it hit her spot just right, she began to feel the spiraling heat of an orgasm quickly building.
“I… oh, my, your cock feels so very good, Mat. Don’t stop.”
He didn’t plan to. He continued to thrust, every push feeling like ecstasy, and he never wanted it to end. Then, he felt the familiar shudder race through his body and into his cock. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
When her core tightened around him, and Mariselle’s nipples pebbled rock-hard against his chest, he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. Her breathing was erratic with squeals and moans mixed in before she cried out, squeezing herself tightly around him.
His cock jerked and spasmed as it shot an intense load inside of her. Both of them cried out, holding on tight as they rode their waves of delicious desire until they were both spent and heaving for breath.
Mathias reached up, looked into her hooded eyes, and grabbed her jaw with one hand. He leaned down and kissed her hard and intense, his cock still twitching and seated inside her. “Thank you. Best first time, ever.”
She smiled. “I would have never known if you hadn’t told me.”
Shouting, angry voices echoing from inside the castle caused them to pull apart and dress quickly.
Chapter 16
Exhausted, Griffin, Alexander, Barclay, and four soldiers pulled up to the bandits’ house two hours later. Barclay had told the other six men to head back to Castle West Haven and secure the prisoner in the cells below ground there.
The four soldiers stayed on their horses, their instructions to post up at the four corners of the house in case anything should happen. The two kings and their captain dismounted theirs, and then tied them to nearby trees.
“No matter what happens, we can only say we did our absolute best. None of us would have felt right going back to the castle if we hadn’t double-backed here to check one last time. Agreed?” Griffin asked, his gaze flicking between his brother and the captain of his royal guards.
“Agreed,” they said in unison.
“Let’s go,” Griffin instructed, sliding out his sword from its scabbard and walking to the front door of the poky cottage home.
“Let me go first, sire,” Barclay insisted.
Griffin nodded and let the captain go inside first to make sure it was secure. He glanced around and didn’t see anything different, and the headless body of Seamus still lying in a gory heap on the floor near the back door. He suppressed a shudder at the sight and turned his head around. “All clear.”
The three men entered and immediately descended the stairs off the right. The same torch was burning in its holder on the wall, the same two cell doors were shut while the rest were open, and the same damp, dank smell permeated the air. But there was another odor, and all three men seemed to smell it once.
“What is that godawful stench?” Alexander asked, covering his nose.
“Who’s there?” a feeble male voice called out.
The trio looked at each other, wide-eyed. They raced to the back of the dungeon and peered inside the cells.
“Your Highnesses!” Marcus cried, getting up from his cell, but confined to the slack of the shackle, which barely reached the door.
“Sheriff Langer! What in God’s name are you doing in here?” Alexander breathed, re-sheathing his sword and bending down to look through the food slot.
“There’s no time to waste, sire! Zackary is very sick, if not dead already. I fear the worst,” he cried, his tired, red eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Griffin was already pushing the wooden bar aside that held the door closed from the outside, as he’d spotted Zackary lying unconscious on the floor of the adjoining cell. After sliding it away, he yanked the door open and rushed to Zackary’s side. He slid to his knees and picked up his brother, cradling him in his arms.
“Zackary! Wake up!”
Barclay dropped his sword and rushed into the cell. He put his head to Zackary’s chest and closed his eyes. Then, lifting his head, he looked into Griffin’s frightened eyes and said,
“He’s still breathing, and still has a heartbeat!”
Griffin slapped Zackary across the face and shouted, “Wake up, Zack! Wake up now!” He looked up at Barclay. “He’s raging with fever. I can barely stand to touch his skin.”
Zackary turned his head and groaned low, but otherwise did not open his eyes.
Alexander raced upstairs and was fortunate to find a key on Seamus’s corpse. He darted back down the stairs and unlocked Marcus’s shackle. They both rushed into the cell, and Alexander unlocked Zackary’s.
“Have you got the malgaesec, sire?” Barclay asked.
Alexander threw the key down and pulled the small sheep’s bladder from the pocket of his trousers and handed it to Barclay. Wasting no time, the captain popped off the lid and jammed his fingers into the glowing green goo.
He bit back a gasp when he saw Zackary’s foot almost completely black. He prayed to whoever would listen that the young king would not have to lose it if the malgaesec didn’t heal him. He smeared the salve all over Zackary’s ankle and foot. Then, he dipped a finger into the malgaesec and retrieved a dollop before shoving his finger into Zackary’s slack mouth.
“The fever is ravaging his body. We must get the malgaesec into his blood to heal him from the inside,” Barclay said, speaking to everyone and no none in particular.
They watched as the green ooze spread around Zackary’s foot and then seeped into his skin. It was mere minutes before Griffin felt his skin cool off and the odor of his infection begin to diminish.
“I think it’s working,” he said quietly, feeling like he could breathe for the first time since Zackary had gone missing.
Griffin laid his brother flat on the ground and took off his coat before rolling it into a makeshift pillow.
Zackary’s eyes fluttered open. “What’s going on? Where am I?”
Alexander also breathed out a sigh of relief. “Holy hell, brother, we thought we lost you there for a minute!”
“My foot hurts,” he groaned.
“It’ll be better soon,” Barclay replied. “Do you think you can walk?”
Zackary weakly turned his head from side to side. “Thirsty.”
Marcus looked around the cell, then hobbled out and went to his own. He quickly returned with a half tin full of murky water and handed it to Griffin. “I was rationing, sire.”
“Thank you,” Griffin responded and lifted his brother’s head so he could pour the liquid down his throat.
“We need to get going, Your Majesties,” Barclay said, his brow furrowed. “The daylight’s almost gone, and we need to get him to the castle doctor without haste.”
Zackary sat up with the help of Griffin and looked around. “Marcus, what are you doing here?”
Mathias propped his weary body against the cell wall. “King Mathias sent me a telegram three days ago, asking me to come to the West Haven to surprise Mariselle. I was so delighted to receive an invitation. But on my way through the forest, those rat bastards snatched me off my horse and dragged me here. They kept asking me about money and who would be willing to pay a few hundred shillings for me. I told them I had no one, but they wouldn’t listen. I had been down here a couple days before they brought King Zackary in.”
“Why were you traveling alone? Not safe,” Barclay said.
“I see that now. I’m the former Sheriff of Syracuse, I thought I could handle myself, even with the bum hip. I did not realize this forest was ripe with thieves.”
“Maybe we should stay the night here, get a head start in the morning. We can send the four guards on their way to inform the castle of our plans,” Alexander said, staring at Zackary. “Then he can rebuild his strength for the journey tomorrow.”
“Agreed, but let’s send two guards and leave two to keep watch outside,” Barclay said.
Griffin rose to his feet and said, “And when are they supposed to sleep?”
“You have a point, sire.” Barclay left the cell and wandered up the stairs.
The kings helped their brother to his feet and he wobbled on unsteady legs up the stairs. They laid him down on one of the makeshift beds on the floor. He made a face when he saw Seamus’s body. “Which one of you violent fuckers did that?”
“Griffin, of course,” Alexander said with a smirk.
Barclay returned to the house and Alexander said, “Give me a hand with this.” Together, they dragged the dead body and severed head outside into the trash heap. Barclay used sticks to get a fire going, and soon they had warmth and light for their night inside the thieves’ home.
They spent the evening discussing how Griffin couldn’t see them in their cells, and how defeated Zackary and Marcus had felt when he’d left. When they could keep their eyes open no longer, they all drifted off to sleep.
Mathias and Mariselle came rushing into the foyer when they heard the shouting. They saw six royal guards ushering in a dirty-looking man in a green hooded tunic. He was thrashing about, kicking and yelling through a filthy cloth gag in his mouth.
“Stop your resistance and walk like a man or else there will be consequences!” one of the royal guards snapped, trying to gain control of the man.
Sir Francis rushed over and said, “Stop!”
The guards halted while the bandit continued to thrash about. Francis reached up and yanked the gag off.
“Release me!” he yelled, his eyes wildly flicking around the foyer. “There is witchcraft afoot. Turn me loose into the forest, for I’d rather take my chances in the cold and dark than this cursed place!”
Francis looked at the guard holding him. “Who is this cretin, and why are you dragging him in here?”
“Sir, a gang of bandits kidnapped King Zackary and another man, but we killed them all. Except this one. He hasn’t given us much information, but he insists King Zackary is being held at their hideout in the forest. A thorough search of the dwelling and its surroundings yielded negative results, however.”
“Where are the kings?” Francis asked.
The bandit began yelling again, so Francis yanked his gag up and shoved it over his mouth.
“They and Captain Barclay decided to go back and search for his royal highness and the other man, just in case they missed something. We were instructed to bring the prisoner here and lock him in the dungeon, and then await further instruction.”
Sir Francis nodded. “Very well, then, get to it.”
The guards wrangled the man across the foyer and down a flight of steps that would lead them past the staff quarters and deep into the belly of the castle.
Mariselle bit her lip and rushed over to Francis. “When will Griffin and Alexander return? I’ve been sick with worry!”
Francis resisted the urge to remind her of how she and Mathias had been missing for hours, most of the staff assuming what they’d been getting up to, but instead said, “We won’t know anything until they return, or send a courier with news. I will inform you as soon as I hear something.” He turned on his heel and headed back toward the kitchen.
The ruckus had frightened Mariselle, but she put on her bravest face and headed up the stairs. Mathias followed behind her. “Are you all right, love?”
She nodded and kept walking. Her heart felt so confused and scared, and all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball. She went into her chambers.
Mathias stood outside her door. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.
She shook her head. “No, but if I need you, I will come to your chambers.” She leaned in and pressed a peck to his lips and whispered against them, “Thank you for earlier, it was quite delightful.”
He grinned back and kissed her once more. “Likewise. Get some rest, beautiful Mariselle.”
She smiled and closed the door before flopping herself on her bed and curling up into a ball. Her thoughts were scattered and stormy, and she closed her eyes, willing it all to calm so she could sleep away her worry.
Chapter 17
Despite the circumstances, Hecate was
over-the-moon thrilled to see that Mariselle had finally bedded Mathias. A renewed faith she hadn’t felt in over a decade blossomed in her undead chest. She hoped beyond hope that Mariselle would lay with him again and become pregnant. There was nothing left for Mariselle to do now, because without even knowing it, she had fulfilled the clause put forth by Angelique when she had unleashed her cruel curse on Syracuse in a fit of bitter rage and deep-seated hurt by what the Rothhavens’ father King Edward had done to her.
As she floated, unseen, in the turret above the castle, she was just about to fly off in search of Gaylen when movement near the secret garden shack caught her attention. She narrowed her eyes and hissed. “You slippery serpent!”
She flew into the castle through a window, went whole, and did a quick incantation to cloak herself into looking like a chambermaid. She patted the pocket of her ragged dress to ensure the enchanted knife was still in place. Quickly making her way toward the steps, she conjured up a plan in her mind on how she was going to end the slimy warlock once and for all.
It took her about ten minutes, but she finally located Mathias’s chambers. She knocked on his door and waited patiently for the handsome young king to answer. Bleary-eyed and confused, he narrowed his eyes at Hecate’s form and said, “What do you need at this hour?”
Hecate bowed quickly and then put on her most theatrical face. “Your Majesty, I beg your pardon, but I could not locate Sir Francis or any castle guards. Please come quickly!”
Mathias shook his head and followed the chambermaid into the hall. “What is the alarm, lass?”
“I was out cleanin’ along the outside wall of the castle, when I saw a strange old man trying to break into the rundown outhouse. He could not get in, but I think you need to come see.”
“What outhouse…” Mathias quickly realized she meant the secret garden. “I mean, why would anyone want to get into that old thing?” he continued, keeping up the ruse.
“I don’t know, sire, but he seemed suspicious, and I felt it a duty to report this at once!”