How to Train Your Knight: A Medieval Romance Novel

by Alden, Stella Marie

  Sighing, she turned an even brighter shade of red. “No, not that. Worse, I suspect. I don’t arouse a man into his, his …”

  Taking a deep breath, she blurted, “My last husband told me his pintle would not stand for me. I was the cause of his inability to make an heir.” The floor became her primary focus.

  “Ann. Sweet, sweet Ann.” Eyes closed, he pulled her dainty hand away from his mouth, down the length of his torso, and helped her fingers to curl around his throbbing staff. “It can’t be so. If you made me stand any straighter, I’d go mad.”

  Her short nails dug into him and he moaned. “Open your chamber door and invite me in. All will be well, I promise you. I’m not your last husband, nor do I suffer from the same malady.”

  “What?”

  After a sharp inhale, he held his breath to gather another grain of self-control. Wrapping his good arm around her waist, he brushed her lips gently with his own. “A lady as beautiful as you could not be the cause of a man’s inability to become full.”

  “Then why would he say such wicked things to me and beat me so?”

  He nibbled on her chin and held her even closer. “I don’t want to speak of the old bastard. Instead, let me show you how it should be between a husband and a wife. Will you trust me?”

  In his mind’s eye, he shouted triumphantly, then blew a horn of victory when she opened the large oak door wide. The flickering light from the fire in the hearth cast orange dancing shadows along the stone walls and across her gentle face. He kissed her cheek before turning to the door and closing it with a thud.

  She gasped and edged away.

  “I promise, you can run at any point. I just want some privacy. Come, let’s stand by the fire. It’s a cool night.” He walked her over to the hearth with a hand to the small of her back. Gently, he removed the gold net binding until hair fell like a waterfall, cascading down her back. Ignoring his injured arm, he pushed both hands through her silky mane and groaned.

  “Are you in pain?”

  “Shush. There are many kinds of pain. This one is the sweetest.” He placed his lips on hers and tried to open them with his tongue. “Have you never been kissed, m’lady?”

  “Only by an impertinent weaver.” She grinned mischievously and opened her eyes.

  “Ne’er before that?” He brushed his lips across her face.

  “Why? Am I doing it wrong?” She tried to pucker her lips and he almost laughed out loud.

  “Your kisses are more than fine. I’ll show you. ‘Tis simple. I kiss you first until something stirs and tightens, and you do the same to me.”

  “How will I know?”

  “You will.” He pulled her into his body and slipped a hand to her derriere. He put his mouth over hers and laid siege with his tongue to her teeth until she opened for him. He plundered the prize, thrusting in and out. In his mind’s eye, his hardened rod was doing the same.

  Her tongue found his mouth and emulated him perfectly. She let out a little moan and her pelvis arched into his already painful staff. Her body, naturally more knowledgeable on the subject of mating, rubbed up and down his until he could feel the nubs of her breasts through their layers of clothes.

  “Careful or this’ll be over before we set forth.” Stepping back, he circled behind her. His tongue laved her neck and teeth played with the ribbons on her tunic. The dress fell down in a green pool on the floor, and her hands shot up to cover her breasts. Rather than pull them away, he reached around and let his hand guide hers over her chemise. He showed her how she could caress herself.

  “Thou art so beautiful, Ann of the Meadows. So sweet and lush, like a garden. Let me touch what thou hast already.” He moved her hands down to her waist. Remembering her response to their wedding, he let one finger wander up and bother a nipple until it pointed.

  She inhaled and leaned back into him and let him have access to the other breast while turning her head, her lips in search of his. He complied. He tasted her neck, her ear, whatever piece of skin he could find that wasn’t clothed. When it was no longer enough, he turned her, lifted her arms, and pulled her under-shift over her head.

  He laid her upon the wool-covered pallet. “I’d finish what I tried to start in the baths. But I’m afraid I can’t.” He sat beside her and lifted a foot.

  Smiling angelically, she nodded and straddled him with her sweet derriere close enough to bite. One clean boot released with a mighty tug. When she fell back with the second, she landed snug in his lap. He chuckled, wrapped his arms around her and breathed in the scent of lavender escaping her hair. Then he groaned softly.

  “All is well with your arm?”

  “It’s not that appendage which draws my attention at the moment. Would you help me with my shirt?”

  “Aye.” She turned on her knees with her open passage inches from his bulging staff, she heaved his tunic up and away. Fascinated at his multiple scars, she touched each one.

  He inhaled and exhaled slowly until he could endure no more. God’s blood, he wanted to plunder her. “You see why your body causes me no alarm? I, too, am maimed.”

  He turned her so that her derriere rested near his rod, and her inner thighs caressed his outer. “I’ll place my hands on your wounds as you did to me.” He rubbed the scars of her back while opening his legs wider. Her wet core dampened him and his fingers found the space between the curls.

  She tried to squirm away. “Sir?”

  “Trust me. Thou art mine, and I’ll let nothing that is mine go to harm.” He backed his finger away and massaged her inner thighs. He circled his hand close to the dark triangle of hair, to the core of her sex, until she arched toward it.

  “Thou art so ready for me. Let me tend to your needs.”

  “What’re you doing to me?” She whimpered.

  He chuckled, kissed the back of her neck, and drew her off his lap. Laying her down on the pallet, he said, “Look at me.”

  With green eyes almost black with passion, she arched her back and opened her legs further. Pride surged as he caressed her ever-hardening core. She was so close to her need. “That’s right. Just give into the pleasure and let it go.”

  Her nub tightened, her breathing stopped, and she screamed, bucking into his hand. He stayed there, enjoying her passionate release. Before the pulsations ceased, he eased his rod into her swollen, wet core. Too late, he felt the virgin muscle give way. Shocked, he stopped.

  She pushed hard into his chest “Mayhap thou art too thick? You need to get off.”

  How in the hell was the woman still a virgin? “Wait, slow down. I will.”

  “Thou art very large, m’lord. Her voice was small and strained as she tried to topple him off her body.

  “Give yourself a moment to adjust. I promise we’ll fit.” He kissed her collarbone and tried to steady his own breathing. “Open your eyes. Trust me.”

  And she did. Thank God. If only he’d known, he could’ve readied her better.

  The light from the fire was almost naught, but he knew the instant she gave into him. She opened her legs, moaned, and he slid in further. A bead of sweat rolled off his face and onto her chest while he waited.

  She sighed out his name and arched up with an innocence that drove him mad with desire. He waited for her to take her need again, rocking with blind abandon until she tightened, shuddered, and screamed. With a fierce shout, he finally let go and plunged into her. So. Tight. So. Good. He shouted, reached a height he’d never thought possible, and his seed burst out, filling her.

  When he came to his senses, he opened his eyes and let his fingertip circle her body. He blew on her and little chicken skin bumps caused her to gasp and open her eyes to meet his gaze. She smiled and he was undone. His chest grew tight. He’d protect her through the fires of hell if that’s what it took to see her smile like that for all his days.

  “You didn’t know your previous husband in bed?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her lips.

  �
��He couldn’t, um, rise to the occasion.” She gave a tiny giggle.

  It was the first time he’d heard such a noise out of her. The sound was so charming that he laughed until his sides hurt. He pulled her to his chest and hoped he wasn’t tearing at his stitches. But even so, it was well worth it. He’d lain with his wife and found the treasure that’d he’d been searching for his whole life.

  She smiled up at Marcus as he rose from the pallet. Although things ached and stretched in places she didn’t even know existed until tonight, she was truly happy. Odd that she couldn’t remember feeling that way before. He stoked the fire with an iron, and it crackled back to life. When the glow reflected on his magnificent naked form, her body ached to have him again.

  Her husband walked over to the commode and found a cloth and wet it in the basin. When she realized he meant to wipe off the blood between her legs, she closed them and wrapped her arms around her breasts.

  His hands gently pried them apart. “There will be no embarrassment between, us. Nothing that happened in here tonight was shameful. There was just a husband and a wife, with normal relations, going about the business of making heirs.” He smiled as he wiped her clean. “And if tonight was any indication, we’ll have many, many, children to tend to.”

  She was struck dumb. Even after the deed was done, her beast was warm and tender. Surely, God had forgiven her for all her cursing and swearing and all the things that had brought her first husband into her life. “Marcus?”

  “Aye?”

  “I’ve a confession.”

  He sat and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t care if you killed the old bastard. If he was still alive, I’d do it for you.”

  “No, no. Although, that is a relief. That’s not what I wanted to confess. I fear I was the cause of your injury today.”

  He rolled over on top of her and pinned her in place, but still did not appear angry. “You paid someone to kill me?”

  “Of course not, but I was nonetheless responsible. I’ve had an understanding with Lord Abernathy. I gave him permission to steal my sheep.”

  “You told him he could take my sheep?” The blackness of the night hid his form, but his breath warmed her face.

  “Well, when I told him, they weren’t yours, they were mine. I had no choice. But still, I should’ve let you know about the agreement.” She squirmed out from under him and he let her go.

  Sitting up on the bed, his palm rasped over his evening beard. “Why in God’s name would you let him steal your wool? That’s your bread and, butter.”

  “He promised to keep the evil hoards at bay and away from our fields.” She groped for his hands and clasped them tight.

  “There are no hoards, Ann, except for him.”

  She sighed, pulling his caressing fingers to her lips. “I know that,” she whispered.

  He kissed her face, pulled her down under the furs, and spooned around her with his mighty pintle hard against her back. “You’ve done an amazing job at running this estate, for a woman who knows little of the world. I’ll run things from now on.”

  That’s rather what I’m afraid of. But then no other thoughts were possible. He turned her, she spread her legs, and the heavens opened up again.

  Chapter 7

  Ann jumped up when the cocks crowed, then sat right back down.

  Ow. Inside, between her legs, pinched as if sitting on an arrow. She leaned back onto her pallet and stared at the beams crisscrossing her ceiling. Last night was real and not a dream. Had she truly screamed in ecstasy or was that him?

  Sally knocked softly. “M’lady? Are you awake yet?”

  “Yes, come in.” Scrunching her face at the aching within, she managed to sit upright.

  “We need to get you up and dressed. The lord of the house is waiting to break his fast with you.” Sally smiled as brightly as the sun.

  “Really? Why?”

  She laughed, pulled the covers off, and giggled. “You would know better than I. In good spirits, he is. You must have cheered him up last night.”

  Ann’s face heated and she ducked under the covers. “I’d guess maybe.”

  “Oh, come now. We’ve been together for almost always. More like sisters, we two. Are you going to tell me or will I beat it from you?” She found a brush and wielded it like a sword.

  Squealing, Ann grabbed it back, and swatted Sally’s behind. “I shan’t spill out last night’s adventure as a fine wine upon the floor.”

  “You don’t have to.” She looked to the bloodied sheets with a deep grin. “Tell me, was it good? Did it hurt?”

  “Come over and help me get the tangles out of my hair, and I may tell you some.”

  Sally sat down on the pallet and pulled the brush through the knots. “Was he good to you?”

  “Better than good …” Ann closed her eyes, counting the times he’d brought her to heaven.

  “The Beast was kind?”

  “Angels above. You would not believe.”

  Sally giggled. “Was he big?”

  “I’ve said enough. You’ll be married soon to that giant of a blacksmith and will find out for yourself. Give me that brush. You’re going to tear my scalp off.”

  “I’ll get more out of you later. But for now, we need to get you dressed. What would you like to wear today? Your everyday muslin is ruined by your lord’s injury. Why not wear something new?”

  “What? And get a day’s work of grime over it? It, too, will be a mess. By week’s end I’ll have nothing to wear.” She did wonder a little, though, what dresses she had left.

  Sally ran out into the hall and returned with a bright yellow woolen tunic. “Your lord has given you his first present.”

  She gasped. “It’s too beautiful to wear into the town for working. What if I get mud on it? Worse yet, dye?”

  “He insisted. And there is this, too. I’m to lace it into your hair.” She pulled out a silk ribbon of yellow and gold.

  Ann made a hex sign at it with her two index fingers. “Nay. I could lose it in sheep manure or it’ll fall into the vat. It makes no sense at all.”

  Sally gave a sly sniff, rubbed her eyes, but maintained a mischievous grin underneath. “He told me there’d be hell to pay if you don’t come down dressed as he requested. I’d not have the new lord of the house be cross with me.”

  “Oh, get off from that horse.” Ann feigned a stern look, but then giggled. “Of course I’ll wear the fine dress if he insists. He’ll find out soon enough that he’ll run out of gold should he try to dress me as a fine lady. Come. Let’s be at it, then.”

  She had an idea and tore her old Muslin dress into pieces and folded the material. “Be a dear and create a cover-up for me like so. Add ties. See? Then I can mayhap keep the new dress somewhat unsoiled. Sew the seams quickly. I’d not want to keep my husband waiting.”

  The bright yellow tunic caressed her legs as she descended the stairs. She clutched her cover-up in her hand for later. As promised, Sally had secured her hair with pins and a strand of bright ribbon, but already several locks had broken free. By end of day, it would come down entirely. The ensemble, as a whole, wasn’t very practical.

  Her husband was deep in thought by the fireplace, so she cleared her throat. He glanced up, then broke into a wide smile. “You’re more beautiful than the sun. Come, eat with me. I’ll feed you, my little canary.”

  “First, if you don’t mind, I would see to the food of my town.”

  He took her hand. “About that—”

  “No. Each morning, I see that all have a good breakfast. I have to go to the kitchen. I’ll be right back.” She gave him a big grin and tried to tug her hand from his, but he held her in place.

  “Halt, now,” he said in a commanding tone.

  It took much effort to suck back a snide retort. “Yes, m’lord?”

  Arms folded across his chest. “I told cook to stop the practice. I’ll make sure all families have plenty to eat. We’ll just not do the cooking for them.”
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br />   “Of all the devil’s chicanery. You did what? I don’t believe this.” She took one fist and pounded at his massive chest.

  He backed up and opened his hands. “Be reasonable. We provide the seed and the soil. God provides the air and water. Certainly they can manage a bit of fire without our help. I’ve seen to it that they won’t starve.”

  “Is that so?” She searched his face, but it was grim and determined. “What gave you the right to—”

  A fingertip locked onto her lips. “Hush. I’m your husband, the lord of this manor. I’ll do what is best for us from now on.”

  The man was entirely unreasonable. “You haven’t even looked at the debts and gains and you would tell me what we can and can’t do?” Her voice rose to a screech. “How dare you? What arrogance!”

  “I suggest you desist with this conver—”

  “Damn the devil and all his beasts. You would take food from the babes? What manner of man are you?” She turned on her heel and stormed into the kitchen. She was a bit surprised he didn’t hold her back.

  “Dame March,” she said into the now-empty space. “You won’t listen to that beast of a man when it comes to food or I swear on the Holy Bible, I’ll sell you off to the next peddler through town. I’ll let The Beast and all his men eat dirt. Are you listening to me? Dame, where are you. Damn the souls of all warriors from now to eternity.”

  She opened all the cupboards to find bread and muffins. There was meat drying in the cool cellar. She flew down the stairs, took her knife to the hanging rope and ran back up. When she figured she had enough to feed the town, she put the food into a large basket and dragged it out the kitchen door.

  Sally’s carefully placed pins flew out of her hair and onto the grass. She shook her head until the rest followed. The yellow ribbon flew off, too, which she stomped into the mud. Then she stalked toward Dame March, who was trying to explain to the people why henceforth, there would no longer be food in the morning.

  The Beast shouted at her back. “You go too far this time, m’lady.”