Tales of Enchantment 2: The Quest

by Kai Andersen

  Rodin swung himself onto the stallion’s back and rode the few paces necessary to catch up with Giselda. Once he was beside her, he bent and reached out a hand toward her. “C’mon up.”

  Giselda didn’t even glance at him. She just continued to plod onward. “You go ahead. I wasn’t part of this mission anyway.”

  He withdrew his hand. “Who’ll make me laugh if you’re quitting so soon?”

  “If you notice, I’m not laughing right now.”

  “Of course. You’re mad if you start laughing for no reason at all.”

  “But then, I am not laughing, because I’m sad.”

  “Was it because of what I said?”

  “Because you didn’t want me --” He was sure he imagined the slightest pause here. “-- along.”

  “I changed my mind,” he said hoarsely. “I decided I needed you to liven up my days.”

  She turned her face to him, a bright smile breaking across her lips. A lump formed in his throat. Gods, she was so lovely!

  “Great. Your hand, please.” She held up a hand to him. “I need help getting on your horse, he’s so huge.” Red color suffused her cheeks, telling him she was thinking of something else that was huge.

  “Something tells me I’ve been duped,” he muttered as she settled in front of him. She leaned her back against his chest and sighed. He felt like sighing himself as his hand found a place on her midriff.

  “I would never do that to you,” she protested.

  He made a noncommittal sound as he nudged the stallion into a walk. Then he checked to make sure the mare was following behind them. With nothing more to occupy his mind, he became aware of the softness of Giselda’s body against him, of the fragrance of her hair and her sweet womanly scent underneath the smell of earth and sun. He was tempted to bury his face in her hair --

  Blood rushed to his groin as the horse’s movement caused Giselda’s bottom to slide and settle squarely against his cock, rubbing against it in small movements with each clip-clop. He didn’t know how long he could control himself before he threw her to the ground and plunged into her until she begged for mercy.

  “Rodin?”

  “Yes?” He caught his thumb caressing her and forced himself to stop.

  “Who is Talina?”

  “Talina?” Yes, he would talk about her. Maybe the pain would drive out this forbidden lust. “She -- she was my first love,” he said jerkily. He was aware of her going stiff, but he was too focused on the rush of pain and guilt that went through him.

  “You loved her?”

  “Loved her? Yes. Oh, gods, yes. We were young, only seventeen, and the whole world was before us.” His hand tightened against her.

  “What happened?”

  “We --” He drew a shuddering breath. “We went mountain climbing. A storm came upon us, took us unawares. She slipped, fell down the mountain. I tried to save her, but the rain was too hard, made everything slippery. Finally, she couldn’t hold on any longer ... and let go.” He stared ahead, but he was seeing a different picture.

  Giselda was rubbing his arm soothingly. “I’m sorry for your loss, Rodin.”

  He had thought the pain would be overwhelming, and it was, but it was slowly receding, replaced by a calmness and an odd sense of peace. Talking about it had been a catharsis.

  “Is that why storms make you uneasy?”

  “Yes. Partly because of fear it would happen again, and partly because of the memories.”

  “You should remember only the good, Rodin.” Her voice was soft and hypnotic, lulling him into a sense of complacency. “Remember the good times you had with Talina. Remember her with -- with love and fondness. I think she would want that.”

  “Yes.” Giselda had a point. “Yes, I will. Maybe ...” He hesitated, the words feeling foreign to his lips. “Maybe I’ll tell you about her someday.”

  “I -- I would love to hear that. But for now, let me comfort you, Rodin.”

  “You already did. Talking with you about this has been --”

  “I mean, like last night.”

  He reared back in alarm, jarred out of his hypnotic state. “No!” He snatched his hand away from her midriff as if stung.

  “Hear me out before you say anything!” she snapped, slapping a hand against his thigh. She turned a little toward him. “That first night with the wolf, I could have died. Yes, I could have,” she repeated firmly in answer to his wordless protest. “And I was thinking what a waste my life would have been if I had not experienced the pleasure that I did last night --” He stared, fascinated at the color that bloomed up her neck to her cheek. “-- that I would surely go to my grave with regrets if I didn’t experience it again. Life here in the wilds is so uncertain, Rodin; that much I’ve come to understand. It’s so different from my sheltered world in the castle. And actually, I still haven’t experienced just how raw and wild nature can be, because you’re with me. If it hadn’t been for you, I know my bones would have littered the forest floor that night. So please don’t blame me if I want to grab whatever I can of life, whatever life can offer me right now. And you’re here, with me, right now.”

  Heat flooded him. He didn’t even have to ask; he was being gifted with the chance to taste heaven endless times with her. She was offering to be his lover for as long as this journey took them, until ... she could go back to Michael. That thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “And I truly want to comfort you, Rodin,” she continued, rubbing her hand in a soothing motion over his thigh and sending sparks of fire streaking through to his groin. “I think I can really help you. Just think how much you were comforted last night.”

  No, he would not respond to her teasing. “Stop that!” His hand clamped down on hers, trapping her hand on top of his thigh. “And stop that nonsense. We are on a mission to rescue your prince, and that’s that. Nothing more.”

  She leaned back against him, reached up, and kissed his chin. He flinched.

  “I want you, Rodin.”

  His eyes met hers involuntarily. Her limpid brown eyes were dark with need, and her face was filled with a sensuousness that made his gut clench.

  “Comforting you was an excuse. The truth is, I want you,” she said in the same quiet voice, her dark eyes earnest. “Madly, completely, passionately, with everything in me. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that. Now that you know the truth, aren’t you going to return the favor?” Her lips trembled.

  He groaned, his heart torn. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I betrayed my king last night; I can’t do it again.” He heaved out a deep shuddering sigh. “I am sorry, but I can’t.”

  “How could servicing the princess be a betrayal of your king? Why, the king should be grateful that you are pleasing his daughter.” She smiled, her eyes so beguiling that he was tempted to lean down and kiss the smile from her lips.

  “Princess,” he said in a tortured voice.

  Before he knew what was happening, she had slipped her small hand between their bodies and was cupping his cock. He sucked in his breath as she caressed him through his trousers. It felt so good. She felt so good. He rasped out, “You’re making this so damned hard, Giselda.”

  The imp had the gall to smile at him mischievously. “I sure hope so.” She pressed harder.

  “Giselda ...”

  “You don’t want me!” Her eyes filled with hurt. She withdrew her hand. “I knew last night --”

  “You couldn’t be more wrong!” The words were dragged from him.

  “But you set me aside --”

  “I want you so much, I wanted to take you again and again! I probably wouldn’t have let you rest all night.”

  Her eyes smoldered. “Then shut up and kiss me, Rodin.”

  “I really can’t, Giselda.”

  She squeezed his cock. “I want this inside me, Rodin.”

  “What about Michael?” The words slipped out before he could stop them.

  “Michael?”


  She had forgotten him. Rodin knew he shouldn’t feel a fierce rush of joy at that thought, but he couldn’t help it.

  “Oh, we’ll just continue to look for him, of course.”

  She squeezed again, causing him to lose his thoughts. But there was one thing he should ask ... “I meant, when we find him.” His voice came out harsher than he intended, so lost was he in the heat that was flaming inside him.

  “Why, marry him, of course.”

  She sounded surprised that he had even asked. He felt deflated, even as desire burned through him. At the same time, a core of ice-cold anger formed within. So, he was good enough to be a lover, but not someone she would marry. He was a fool if he would throw away such a golden opportunity, something every peasant boy dreamed of: fucking the princess. He would use her, just as she meant to use him.

  “I want you naked.”

  “Done.”

  She reached for the hem of her shirt and took it off, laughing as she did so. She would have thrown it away had he not checked her movement.

  His voice mock-stern, he asked, “Don’t you know that we’re out of spare clothes?”

  She laughed.

  He stuffed it hurriedly into one of his bags. His fingers itching, he reached around her and cupped her breasts, enjoying the firm weight of them in his hands. With deliberate slowness, he flicked his thumb over her nipples. She moaned, leaning back into him and turning her head up toward him. He was so lost in the pleasure of having her body at his disposal that it took him a few seconds to realize what she wanted.

  He captured her lips with his own, and she responded, her mouth opening to give him access to her honeyed depths. Her sweet taste fed the fire flaming in his belly. She had always been able to do this to him. One touch and he was hard. One touch and he burned.

  He rocked against her, his hard bulge nudging her spine. His cock chafed at his breeches. It wanted to be free, to glide over that naked skin without barriers, to slide unfettered into Giselda’s tight hole and be grasped in a loving caress by her hot, slick walls. He ached just thinking about it, remembering last night, anticipating ...

  His fingers clamped down on her nipples, which had turned rock hard from his handling. She cried out in pain, but it also released the wildness in her.

  Her tongue thrust into his mouth and dueled fiercely with his. They stroked and slashed in an intimate dance.

  They broke apart, panting.

  He had always thought her beautiful, but never more so than now, when in the throes of passion.

  Her eyes were half-lidded with desire, and her lips were swollen. A flush rode high on her cheeks.

  He bestowed one sweet kiss on her lips before trailing down her chin.

  She sighed and angled her head to one side so that he had clear access to her neck.

  He continued toying with her nipples as his lips moved across her neck to graze down the long, clean line of her back.

  She shivered and covered his hands with hers, following his movements as he caressed her.

  Her skin was so smooth and silky, he felt like he could derive his enjoyment from just kissing her back. His lips traveled upward, lingering over the protruding bones of her spine, her shoulderblades, finally settling on her neck, the place he had neglected a while ago. He bit and kissed the sensitive skin there, teasing the frantically jumping pulse at the base. At the same time, his fingers were busy in front, cupping her breasts and kneading them, tweaking her nipples until they blossomed under the early morning sun.

  She hummed and arched into his hands. He liked that she was so responsive and passionate, that she threw her whole soul into the act and held nothing back. If he had not experienced it for himself, he would never have guessed that she would like sex so much. She was so sensual that he would bet her eyes were closed right now so as to savor the sensations he hoped were wreaking havoc on her feelings. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but harbor the tiny bit of hope that she would like sex with him so much that she would --

  Disgusted with himself and the direction his thoughts were taking, he wrenched himself back to the more pleasurable task at hand. “Take off your trousers for me, Princess.”

  Head still turned to the sun, Giselda unsnapped the fastening and pushed the trousers down to her hips; her panties had been irreparable from the damage they had undergone last night. He felt a surge of lust at the thought that she would always be naked underneath her trousers on this journey. He lifted her by the waist as she pushed the offending clothes down, kicking her feet to speed up her progress.

  He didn’t pass by the opportunity presented to him. His lips skimmed the white globes of her buttocks, his tongue delving into the slit between them. He smelled the sweet scent of her arousal, and it excited him further.

  She moaned and pressed herself closer to him.

  Finally, he turned her around to face him, his eyes roving over her figure freely, from her shapely thighs, her dark bush, her small waist, to her small but firm breasts and anxious angelic face. “You are beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely before falling on her lips, taking her mouth in a ravenous kiss.

  From that moment, all teasing left them.

  He was like a man possessed as he kissed her, as his lips moved down to suckle her breasts. He couldn’t get enough of her. The fire in him was raging out of control. It needed to be appeased.

  He felt a fierce joy at eliciting the same reaction from her.

  Her hands were working frantically at the snap of his trousers as she responded to his kiss and opened her mouth. She always tasted so sweet, like nectar and something that could only be described as Giselda.

  His cock sprang free. He groaned as she grasped it in her hand -- her small and untutored hand. But his reaction to her had nothing to do with skill and everything to do with the fact that she was Giselda. Her movements on his dick were awkward and hesitant, yet his cock hardened at her ministrations, becoming erect and full and thick. The first tendrils of tightening pressure filled him, a sign of the delight to come.

  “Rodin, I want you --” She gasped. “-- inside me --” Her hand tightened around his cock. “-- now.”

  He wasn’t sure he could last any longer. He was that far gone.

  He lifted her. With her guiding his cock into the entrance of her pussy, he impaled her with one swift stroke. Gods, he loved that she was so ready for him. She was slick and tight around his cock, like a well-fit glove encasing a hand. Her hungry pussy welcomed him eagerly, pulsing around him, readying itself to milk him.

  “Rodin, you feel so good,” she breathed against him, her eyes closed.

  He knew exactly what she meant.

  “This is even better.”

  He nudged his stallion into a canter, having dropped Randalin’s reins some time ago. Sneaking a quick look behind, he saw the mare grazing quietly. They would come back for her later.

  The jarring motion caused Giselda’s eyes to fly open. “Rodin!” She was so surprised, she yelped again and clutched frantically at his shoulders. “What are you -- oh, oh, oh, oh!” She screamed the last syllable and continued screaming as the contractions hit her hard.

  Rodin knew what was going on inside her, for he felt them, her wet pussy riding his cock, milking him, clutching at him frantically. He fought for control, holding off his release, wanting to make this last for as long as possible. She bounced on him wildly, her clitoris hitting his hard flesh on every downward stroke, coming down hard and smacking. There was no rhyme or rhythm to their mating, but it was wild and glorious and free.

  He made the horse go faster, increasing the storm building in her, her violent contractions squeezing him. With a cry, he let go, pushing erratically into her tight warmth, sometimes meeting her strokes and sometimes not, pumping his seed into her even as she drained him dry, wringing every last drop from his cock.

  They almost fell off as lethargy overtook them. Fortunately, Rodin was able to correct the imbalance, and they stayed on the horse as he ordered it to slow to a walk.


  “That was exciting,” Giselda gasped as she panted against his chest.

  “Hmmm.” Rodin hummed in contentment, one hand drawing lazy circles on her back. If they could just stay like this forever ...

  Giselda hooked her legs around his waist and pulled closer with surprising strength. “Suddenly, I don’t want to let you go. I want you to stay in me forever.”

  Not exactly the same thought, but it would do for now.

  He held her close, savoring her nearness, the heat and softness of her body, and the flowery scent of her hair. Her body was slight; he knew that when they were standing, her head was just the right height for his chin. He wanted her, wanted her the way a man wants his woman. He wanted to possess her completely and utterly, until she could think of no other man but him.

  “As you wish, my l-- Princess.”

  She smiled as she turned her face to the sun, her eyes closed. “Am I really your princess?” She moved, rubbing his cock against her pussy walls.

  Blood rushed to that tiny place of contact, and his traitorous member hardened and readied itself again.

  “Yes.” Not wanting to give her time to think on that, he lifted her off him.

  “Hey!”

  “Shh. This is even better. I promise.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Oh, gods and goddesses, this was scandalous.

  He had turned her around so that she faced the front and then set her down on his cock. Oooh, how was it that it was hard again? She had squashed her legs closed a while ago because she had felt him slipping out of her, and she had not been ready for that yet. No, she wanted him to stay in her, to rub that hard prick inside her again and again until he spent himself inside her. And then to start all over again ...

  She had never imagined that such an act would be so enjoyable and so addictive. No wonder Frederick couldn’t wait to lure Serena into his bed. She certainly didn’t feel any great inclination to do it again with Michael, but since she would be crown princess of Ermont, she had been planning to tolerate it until she bore the next crown prince. Then she would bar Michael forever from her bed. But now that she had experienced how it could be, she was thinking how sad it was that, after her wedding to Michael, she would never again experience the rapture she had shared with Rodin.