Faire Justice

by Pillow Michelle M.

  ‘Go right when you come down,’ Bret said. ‘I’ll be waiting.’

  “Watch out for the noblewomen. They’re probably drunk by now and tend to get a little mean when they think a commoner might have a chance at their knight—especially since he won’t take any of them into his bed.” Sabena stood, prompting Leda to do the same. Leda gave another glance to the field, but Calum had ridden away. “I have to get back to my booth. The crowds are on the move.”

  Leda thanked the woman and went to meet up with Bret. He stood at the entryway pretending to read a map of the campground.

  “I’m going to see what’s in that knights’ tent.” Leda passed by him and didn’t spare him a second glance.

  He didn’t speak, as he moved to walk with the crowd, following her toward the tent. She looked over her shoulder, seeing him several paces behind her. When she neared the tent, Sabena was already at her booth with a line of people waiting for readings.

  “Madame Sabena, I can’t tell you how right you were about him! Please, tell me, what you see next for me?” A woman sat before the mystic, holding out her hands with an almost desperate look on her face. Leda frowned, almost feeling bad for the delusional fool.

  “My lady.” Sir Calum’s voice caused a chill to shudder down her spine. She turned to see him standing close. Beads of sweat made his dark hair cling to his forehead. Potent heat radiated off of him, making her want to gravitate closer.

  “My champion,” she answered, wondering where the slight breathiness to her tone came from.

  He grinned. “I’ve come for my prize.”

  ‘Leda, he bothering you? You need backup?’

  Leda thought of Bret watching and touched her ear lightly. “Not out here. I’ve been warned about your jealous following of noblewomen. I would hate for them to attack me.”

  “Jealous?” He glanced at Madame Sabena. “Ach, the seer talks too much.”

  ‘Leda, damn it, what’s going on?’

  She took the knight’s arm and lifted her hand behind her back, motioning Bret to shut up. Before they left, she wanted to see inside the tent—just to be sure no one was hiding out. The case was going nowhere and Bret already indicated that the team planned on calling it a day and trying back tomorrow. There was no guarantee that the killer would even be here, at this particular festival. It was just a good hunch and they had to try as all other roads had failed.

  ‘Damn it, Leda, fine, but you watch yourself in there. I can’t see through the tent.’

  Damn it, Bret, she thought. Get out of my head already.

  She waved again. Her knight glanced back in question, clearly feeling the gesture. Giving him an innocent smile, she explained, “Just a bug.”

  ‘Ha, ha,’ Bret drawled.

  “Ya might no’ like what ya see. It could ruin the effect for ya to discover the knights’ secrets.” Even as he said it, he led her toward the flap.

  “Let me guess,” she mused. “You’re hiding air conditioning, a big screen TV and—”

  “I have no knowledge of such contraptions, my lady,” he teased. “And consider yourself warned.”

  She glanced down over his tight ass as he looked away. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I think I’ll survive the shock.”

  Chapter Three

  “Eh, I warned ye once, lady, I’ll not do it again,” a guard cautioned Leda from the entrance to the knights’ tent. He was the same one who’d kept her from getting inside earlier when she’d tried. Experience told her that no amount of eyelash batting or sweet talking would make him change his mind. The man put his hand on his sword, as if he’d actually intended to draw it if she tried to disobey. Leda wondered what he’d do if she whipped out a badge. “No one is to disturb the knights.”

  Her Scottish knight pulled her firmly to his side, wrapping his strong arm around her waist as he held her close. The tight press of him sent a shockwave over her skin, more so than a polite kiss would have done. Her knees weakened as she smelled mint and soap on his skin. He’d managed to clean up after his excursions. His voice a territorial growl, he said, “The wench is with me.”

  “Oh, my apologies, Sir Calum,” the man instantly said, bowing. He went so far as to hold the flap open to let them through. Leda ducked under, unable to help giving the man a victorious look. The man winked at her knowingly. Leda’s smile turned into a grimace.

  Inside, knights sat at the long rows of tables, their voices soft as they drank what she could only guess was liquor out of mugs. The area was plain, an open tent with a dirt floor. Swords and daggers lay across the tables. A few packs lay on the floors toward the sides. Leda didn’t see a single mace.

  “Ah, there is our champion!” said one knight. It was the short, stout Sir Thomas she’d seen fighting swords at the tournament. He lifted his mug toward Calum. “How about a pint of mead?”

  “Methinks ya have drunk enough for the both of us, Sir Thomas,” Calum answered.

  “Yea, but methinks I’d like to trade ya for that fair maid ya got there.” Thomas wiggled his brows suggestively. Leda found him a little on the “weird” side, but dismissed it. The feeling was probably due to the fact that she detected a trace of truth to his offer, though by his demeanor she doubted he’d ever act on it. Were these men so withdrawn from reality that they actually thought they were in the Middle Ages?

  “Do no’ be touching my lady, ya ken?” Calum warned, standing tall. He continued to speak in rapid Gaelic, the words nowhere near anything Leda could translate. The men laughed at the display and her knight took her by her arm and led her down the tent toward the back. He lifted a flap and she ducked under. The back section was smaller than the front. He dropped the flap and it overlapped the entryway, hiding the others completely from view.

  The room was sparse with a wooden chair and a table. There was no breeze, so the heat of the day was only a few degrees cooler under the shade of the canvas than it was outside. Wood posts held the sides up, forming corners, and an old tapestry covered the floor. Clearly, the makeshift home and been thrown together, decorated much more sparsely than the rest of the fairgrounds. A small cot sat close to the ground in the corner, barely big enough for the man in front of her to fit, let alone two people.

  “Impressed?” he chuckled.

  “Well, it’s not a castle, but I guess it will do.” Leda made a show of strolling around the area. Her body slightly tense, she saw they were alone. She wasn’t a weak woman, could easily defend herself, but something deep inside of her told her to stay where she was. She’d gotten far on instinct and wasn’t about to doubt it now. A loud cough sounded in her ear and she jolted in alarm.

  ‘Sorry,’ Bret mumbled.

  “Would ya like me to escort ya back out?” Calum asked softly. “I do no’ want ya to be uncomfortable.”

  Leda wasn’t going to lie to herself. She knew what she wanted and it was right here in the tent.

  She turned to look at Calum, her mouth open, readying to continue the small talk. Nothing came out. Hands wrapped around her upper arms, so quick she couldn’t jerk away, and lips crushed against hers. She gasped in surprise, not having expected him to be so forward, so fast. Hot desire coursed through her and her panties became soaked within seconds. There was no denying their attraction, since that first glance across the fairgrounds, and it would seem she was not the only one who went with her instincts.

  The sound of men talking on the other side of the tent was muffled by the flap. There was the thrill of knowing they could be caught—caught by the knights, caught by her fellow agents. But even more thrilling was the taste of his mouth, the smell of his body, the crush of warm, hard chain mail against her breasts.

  Just as suddenly, he let her go.

  “The prize is well worth the fight, my lady,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

  She shivered, expecting him to come to her again. He didn’t, instead stepping aside to a small table. A large pitcher was on it and he poured it into a bowl. Cupping the water in his hands, he
splashed his face and moistened his hair. Leda watched, letting her eyes roam down over his tight body. His back was to her and she suppressed a moan. Maybe it was the danger in her everyday job that made her unafraid. Or the stress inside her, needing to be relieved. Or maybe, just maybe, it was that he was a handsome man with a commanding presence and she was a woman in need of being controlled.

  Slowly, he pulled the chain mail over his head, dropping it on the chair. She stiffened to hear the loud clank of the falling metal. Laughter sounded in the tent, but she didn’t care at this point. His kiss had drugged her. If just his mouth and the touch of his hands made her this weak and aroused, what would the feel of his cock, inside her, do? Soon, his tunic shirt followed as he cleaned his chest and arms with a rag. She’d smelled the fresh scent of him and wondered if this little bathing show was for her benefit.

  “Ya ken, love, those caught in battle and brought back to a knights’ tent were often made to serve him.”

  Leda’s sex was already so wet that the low implication of his words rushed over her like molten lava. “Are you saying you caught me in battle?”

  “I fought to win ya.” He didn’t turn around as he lifted his arm, washing his body. Little trails of water slid down his tight flesh. She licked her lips. If this was a show, she’d gladly pay to keep watching.

  She went to him, taking the cloth from his hands. He glanced back as if surprised at her easy acceptance. Leda started washing his back, her hands shaking to explore him. The tent added to the fantasy and she felt like the medieval princess being conquered by the warrior knight. Her heart beat faster at the thought. Suddenly, it all made sense why people liked to role play. If this was part of the Renaissance Faire experience, count her in as a loyal attendee!

  Every instinct pulled her toward him since that first glimpse across the fairgrounds. Her senses tingled, not just her body but her mind, her soul. Her innate psychic ability flew into overdrive telling her she needed to be by this man, that she was close to her goal, that through him she’d find her killer. Leda knew to trust her powers.

  “Ya are a fine prize, Lady Leda,” Calum whispered, stroking back a strand of her hair.

  Leda bit back a weak moan, mindful of the fact that they needed to be quiet. His eyes dared her to continue washing him. Her body stirred, aching to be claimed. So help her, if he commanded her to fall to her knees and suck him hard, she’d do it. She wanted the fantasy, the escape. She wanted to be the princess captured by the demanding, sexually starved knight.

  With that thought, she reached for his breeches, surprised to discover she could barely wrap her fingers around the thick girth of his arousal. Already it was fully erect, ready to be called to action. Leda massaged it through his breeches, stroking it with the material of his pants.

  Groaning quietly, Calum eagerly worked the laces free at his waist. She moved to thrust her hand down the front of his pants. The large, thick mass was like tight silk to her palm, so hard she could make out veins along the sides. The rounded mushroomed head pushed against her palm, dropping beads of pre-cum along her flesh as if ready to ease its own way.

  Her bodice felt tight against her breasts as her breathing deepened. Beneath the gown she wore modern undergarments. Even the panties felt tight.

  “Mmm,” he said softly so only she could hear him. She stroked his length, gripping and twisting her hand tight against him. His hips bucked against her, thrusting as he fucked her hand.

  How could a stranger turn her on so much? So fast? So mindlessly? She bit her lip and it took great effort not to make a sound. The anticipation was too much and she couldn’t force herself to dwell beyond the small room in the tent. If ever she needed to be taken, now was that time. How long had it been since she’d been ridden good? How long since she’d been controlled? Fucked? Aroused to the point that merely feeling a man’s body almost made her orgasm?

  No, not just any man. Calum the knight, with his tight perfect muscles and strong thick form. He’d undoubtedly be a fantastic lover. She bet he knew just how to take her, hard and fast, pounding into her, making her feel.

  He touched her arms, running his palms up and down them as he leaned forward to heatedly whisper in her ear, “Ah, lass, ya know how to touch a man.”

  “Call me my lady,” she demanded, stroking him faster. “Show me how you knights took conquered women after battle.”

  “So ya need to be persuaded, do ya, my lady?” he answered, automatically slipping into the role he was dressed for. The burr of his accent thickened. “Taking your lands was no’ enough to make you bow before me?”

  “I’ll never bow to you, heathen scum,” she whispered, shivering at the way his hot breath hit against her neck. This role playing was damned fun.

  “Ya dare to call me a heathen, wench? By the time I’m done with ya, ya will know who your master be.” Calum pushed down on her shoulder. Leda went to her knees a little too eagerly. Her hand moved with her and she pulled his pants down. She opened her mouth, expecting to take him between her lips. Her eyes rounded as she looked at his glorious, thick cock.

  Instead, he pushed her roughly back. Leda fell on her butt, gasping in surprise as he towered over her. She’d asked to be dominated and that is exactly what she was getting. Calum’s eyes looked at her with superiority. She couldn’t speak. Her eyes were caught by the way his chest lifted with each breath. Damn, but the man was nothing but valleys and peaks of pure muscle. So wet she could barely breathe without feeling the twinges of her desire all the way down to her pussy, her thighs tightened.

  His heated gaze met hers, commanding and sure, as he fell to his knees before her. She watched his hands on her gown, pulling on her skirt. The hard ground pressed into her backside. Calum didn’t stop as he exposed her thighs, finally coming to her panties. With a growl, he pulled on them, ripping them as he freed her body to his steamy gaze.

  He leaned forward, whispering, “It would seem my lady does no’ require much convincing.”

  As if to prove his point, he thrust a finger into her slick folds. Lena arched, falling all the way back. Calum wiggled the tip, dancing it along the hard pearl of her sex. Then, thrusting it hard, he slipped it up into her passage. Her muscles clamped down on him.

  Mmm, yes, this is what she wanted!

  She forced her lips together tight, trying to concentrate on not making a sound. Calum kept his hand moving, fucking her with first one, then two, then three fingers. His thumb found her clit as the other slid behind to probe along her ass. His knees settled between her thighs, holding her legs open. With his free hand, he grabbed at her bodice. She waited for him to rip it, vaguely aware that she’d not have any other clothing to put on if he did. Instead, he pulled, shaking it, so it slowly worked down to expose a breast without tearing the material. A low sound came from him and her breath caught, hoping he didn’t make it louder.

  Needing more than a hand between her thighs, she pushed at his to get him to pull out. He grinned, instinctively understanding the primitive gesture. Calum withdrew his fingers. She closed her eyes, breathing hard, tense and ready for that first filling thrust. He was so big and she just knew it was going to feel so good and tight.

  Warm lips crushed over her exposed nipple, sucking and biting.

  ‘Agent, we’re being called to go home,’ a voice said in her ear. ‘Don’t worry., I’ll wait thirty minutes before coming in after you. That should give you plenty of time to make a graceful exit.’

  The sound jarred her but Calum’s lips soon drew her back to the matter at hand.

  ‘Leda,’ Bret insisted.

  Leda suppressed a groan, dislodging the earpiece by throwing her hand next to her ear. Calum instantly grabbed her wrist, as if thinking she wanted to be held down. He pinned her wrists and she forgot all about Bret and their assignment. Calum’s knees nudged her thighs open wider as he angled his hips close to hers. She gasped, feeling the blunt tip of him at her opening.

  “Protection,” she moaned quietly.
r />   “On,” he said in such a way she knew she could believe him.

  He rubbed his shaft along her folds, searing her with his heat. She parted her thighs wider, instinctively ready for that first thrust. Breathing hard, he panted, as if he was seconds away from roughly riding her. The whole day filled with glances and hot looks had built to this moment. Her stomach tensed, as she became almost frightened by the size of him. Calum’s mouth found her neck, biting at it like a wolf about to attack. He thrust hard, slipping inside her without testing her depth with his size. It didn’t matter. She was more than ready and her body took him tightly in, squeezing him hard.

  “Ah,” she breathed. “Yes, fuck me. Take me. Ride me hard.”

  Leda wanted to be conquered, and so she was, as he began pumping his hips hard into her. She bit her lip, arching against him, liking the powerful, fast way he took her. Her ass hit against the hard ground as she rocked her hips, meeting his violent thrusts, taking his mighty sword to the hilt.

  He reached around, grabbing a cheek of her ass. “Come for me. Get me good and wet.”

  Leda pushed her lips tight, biting the insides to keep them shut. The laugher from outside grew, punctuated by periods of male conversation. Thinking of how close they were to getting caught, combined with the tight fit of his demanding body was too much. She shook, jerking hard as she came. Calum’s gorgeous face was strained. His mouth opened wide as he shivered, but no sound escaped. She was glad he didn’t feel the need to call out, alerting his probably suspicious friends to what happened behind the tent flap.

  When she started to calm down, he grinned, a truly wicked look. That’s when she realized he was still hard, his hips moving in shallow circles inside her. He pulled out. Her body was weak and her mind confused. What was he doing?

  He pulled back, his hard, condom covered dick still erect. Before she could think to protest, he was flipping her over onto her stomach. Her face met with the dirt of the floor, where the rug didn’t cover. His hands cupped her ass, kneading it several times before letting go. She gasped in surprise.