Tales of Enchantment

by Andersen,Kai

  He immediately slowed the horse to a walk. “Better now?”

  “Better and better each time.” She turned her head for his kiss, though it hurt her neck to do so.

  He claimed her lips in a passionate kiss. Her lips parted as she responded, kissing him the way he had kissed her. His lips pressed down firmly, became more insistent. His tongue sought entry, and she allowed him, feeling shivers of delight tingling through her as his tongue met hers, stroking fiercely, caressing, claiming.

  He lifted his head for air, then bent again, placing numerous small kisses on her lips, as if he couldn’t let her go. His green eyes burned fiercely into hers as he smoothed her dark hair away from her face. He smiled and touched her cheek gently, then gathered her close so that they were sitting upright on the horse, his chest providing a strong wall for her to lean against.

  “I have always loved riding,” she whispered, “but I think I love riding you more.”

  “Then be prepared to do a lot of riding.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was when they spotted the smoke trailing up from one of the village houses that it happened.

  “Oh, gods and goddesses! Randalin!” One of Giselda’s hands snaked out from underneath the blanket, which covered every naked inch of her body, to clap against her mouth. “I can’t believe I forgot all about her!”

  Rodin immediately wheeled the horse around. “I can’t believe I forgot, either.” His voice was grim. “If Randalin is as well-trained as the rest, she should still be grazing where we left her.”

  “Unless someone has taken her.” Giselda hated herself for the scared note in her voice, but she hated herself more for being so focused on this new experience with Rodin that she had forgotten her loyal steed and friend. How could she have let that happen?

  “Let’s not think ahead of ourselves.” He hesitated, his hand tightening about her midriff. “Do you want to get dressed?”

  She finished dressing in the time it took for Rodin to put on his trousers and to sit astride the horse. She was silent the entire time. Rodin was also quiet. The silence that descended was not the comfortable one that sometimes came upon them, but one that was fraught with tension.

  A moment later, she found out that it was guilt eating at him. Just before he spurred the horse into a gallop, he said in a choked voice, “I’m sorry, Giselda. If there’s anyone to blame for this, it should be me.”

  The rushing wind made it impossible for her to speak, so she just squeezed his arm where it lay against her midriff. Though she worried about Randalin, she couldn’t help but enjoy the warm feel of Rodin’s solid body against her back, the way his arm tightened about her as they galloped back toward the cave they’d left this morning. One enlightening difference was that, though she was worried, she knew she wasn’t alone and that Rodin would be there beside her. They’d solve the problem together.

  It was mid-afternoon when they spotted Randalin grazing near the spot where they had left her. Giselda jumped from the stallion’s back when he slowed to a trot. She ran to throw her arms around Randalin’s neck.

  “Oh, you poor dear! Were you scared all by yourself?”

  Randalin whinnied, nuzzling her mouth against Giselda’s hand for a treat.

  Giselda laughed, tears running down her cheeks. “You’re so greedy,” she scolded, her tone full of affection.

  “Her foreleg is still swollen.” Rodin stood up from where he had knelt to check on Randalin’s condition.

  Giselda threw herself into Rodin’s arms, feeling them coming around her slowly. “Rodin, she’s all right! Except for that swollen leg, that is.”

  “Yes, she is.” His hand was oddly soothing as he smoothed her hair.

  She nestled against his chest, hearing the strong beat of his heart. “I don’t think we’ll be able to reach that village by tonight.”

  “It doesn’t matter. There’s still tomorrow.”

  The mood between them was different -- almost tender. At the same time, something was shifting within her, between them.

  Rodin broke the silence. “But that doesn’t mean we should laze the rest of the day away. We still have to make whatever distance we can before nightfall.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Giselda gave him a mock salute.

  “If you’re a good girl, I’ll give you a surprise.”

  “What surprise?” Giselda’s eyes were alight with curiosity.

  “Would it still be a surprise if I told you?”

  * * * * *

  The surprise was a freshwater bath in the river about an hour before night fell.

  Giselda threw her clothes on the riverbank and plunged into the water with glee. The cold took her by surprise, and she yelped. Her shrieks rang across the small glen, rousing a flock of birds into flight. As she grew accustomed to the cold, however, she submerged her whole body in the water, knowing that some of the dirt and germs that had clung to her for the past few days would float away with the current.

  She rose from the water, feeling like a wanton sea nymph. From the look in Rodin’s eyes, she wasn’t far off.

  “Where’s the soap?”

  “Soap?” Rodin’s face was comical in his dismay. “I didn’t think I would need it.”

  “Oh.” Having a woman around must be a bother. Giselda bit her lip and thought hard. She remembered seeing ... “Clean sand! We can use that.”

  She scrambled up the riverbank and soon returned with a handful. She came to stand in front of Rodin, holding up her hand to him expectantly as the water swirled gently past their thighs.

  “Is that effective?” Rodin looked at the minute white grains doubtfully.

  “It’s a little rough, and it doesn’t have the fragrance of soap,” she conceded, “but it does take away the dirt, which is what we’re after. Look, let me show you.”

  Giselda took a few grains of sand in her other hand and rubbed them lightly against his chest. She started on his left shoulder and worked down to his pectoral muscles, her fingers tangling among his chest hair and brushing over his nipple. Her breath became a bit ragged as her thumb flicked over it repeatedly, teasing.

  He groaned, his eyes half-lidded as he enjoyed her attention. He placed both hands on her shoulders, his thumbs making sensuous circles against her skin. His cock started to harden and rose up between them, thumping against her gently.

  Giselda shivered as a ripple of heat tingled through her body. Scooping more grains of sand, she repeated the process on the other side of his chest, enjoying the smooth-roughness of his skin and the warm steel underneath her fingers. As she rubbed, she stared boldly at his cock, which she had never before seen in full daylight. She watched, fascinated at the way it rose higher and nudged against her stomach.

  “I see what you mean,” he said in a low, husky drawl. “I feel so clean already, while you, my princess, are still so dirty. How can you stand it?” He was mildly inquiring as he took some grains from her hand and rubbed them all over her chest.

  His touch was both gentle and rough, stroking heatedly over her skin, her breasts, the grains further sensitizing her nipples, igniting the fires of pain and of pleasure. Like her, he thumbed her nipples until they were hard and thrusting out proudly.

  “I’m not done with you yet.” Her own voice was hoarse as her hand dipped past his abdomen and cupped his jutting erection. She caressed his hard length, and from his raspy moans and harsh groans, she could imagine the sensations the rough grains were wreaking on his sensitive cock.

  “Neither am I.”

  There was a wealth of promise in those words.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Giselda, quit playing!”

  A mischievous smile covered her lips as she ignored him. Instead of obeying his command, she turned his foot and kissed his ankle. Such a strong, broad, male part when compared to her own dainty ones. She enjoyed teasing him, enjoyed his groans and moans, enjoyed prolonging the moment and heightening his anticipation.

  It gave her a sense of power
-- power not born of rank or status, but the power of a woman over a man.

  In the darkness of the tent, all her senses, save for sight, were magnified. She heard the clenching of his teeth as they snapped together, and felt the pull of the bedroll as he gripped it in his hands. She heard his labored breathing and sensed the tension in his body.

  A few hours ago, she’d had her most sensuous and fun-filled encounter with water in her entire life. She didn’t think she would come across a body of water in the future without remembering what she and Rodin had done.

  After playing with the sand and rinsing them both by dunking hurriedly into the water, Rodin had thrown her across a smooth slab of stone by the bank and proceeded to have his wicked way with her. Not that she had taken it lying down. She managed to wrest a promise from him that she would have her turn with him later.

  And now, it was later.

  She kissed her way up his leg, lingering over his muscled thigh, then repeating the process on the other leg. She was awed at the power inherent in his legs, the way he had gripped the horse’s flanks, the way they had supported him as he thrust into her.

  The thought made her own breath quicken, and dampness began to gather in her pussy. Anticipation thumped through her veins, making her eager for the moment of completion.

  Her ideas did have a tendency to backfire on her.

  She moved ... and heard his sudden intake of breath, felt the straining of his cock in her direction.

  Her lips closed over his balls, taking one sac into her mouth and sucking lightly.

  He emitted a harsh cry.

  She transferred her focus to the other sac, studiously ignoring his hardened cock, which was standing proudly at attention. Her long hair brushed over it, caressing it and causing it to jerk.

  “Giselda!”

  This close to him, she smelled the musky scent of his sex. It stirred her blood and excited her senses. For a moment, she hovered above his cock, allowing her hair to fall like a curtain around her, enclosing her head and his shaft in their own private cocoon. Her breath fanned it, caused it to twitch and stretch toward her.

  “Giselda ...”

  She liked the pleading note in his voice; oh, yes, she liked it very much. Which was why she bypassed his cock, letting her hair trail over him on her way to his abdomen, the soft, silken threads wrapping around him in a sensuous tangle.

  “Giselda! You’re killing me!”

  “Have I told you how much I like your washboard abs?” His muscles bunched and rippled beneath her fingers.

  “You are not going to distract me with talk!” he roared. “Gods, Giselda, just suck my goddamned cock!”

  “I intend to save the best for last, Rodin. In the meantime, can I distract you with this?” Her mouth wrapped around his nipple, sucking gently. Her hand found its twin, her fingers plucking and rolling the tight bud.

  “A bit,” he gasped. He grabbed her and was able to steal a squeeze on her buttocks before she slapped his hand away.

  “What did I say about touching me?” she demanded severely, her hands on her hips.

  He took his fingers away slowly, stroking her ass cheek as his hand slid back down to the bedroll. Even in the dark, his eyes burned into her. “Please, Giselda,” he groaned in an agonized voice. “Stop torturing me!”

  She climbed atop him, brushing her nipples over his hairy chest. “Is it very bad of me?”

  “Very --”

  She kissed the words from his mouth, kissed him with an enthusiasm and passion usually found between new lovers. Her mouth moved over his aggressively, drawing first his upper lip and then his lower lip into her mouth and sucking on each in turn. She slanted her head and fused their lips together. Her tongue stole into his mouth, stroking and caressing, as she stretched out over his body so that her damp pussy rested against his cock. She rubbed against him, coating him with her juices.

  She lifted her head, her whole body shaking with need. “That better?”

  “Lots,” he rasped out. “I want to touch you.”

  “Later.” She turned around, their heated bodies sliding against each other. “You’re going to like this one even more.”

  Wrapping a hand around his cock, she steadied him as she went down on him, her mouth closing over the purple head. He lifted off the bedroll, almost throwing her off him.

  “Hey!”

  “Sorry.” She heard the sheepish tone in his voice. “Your mouth just feels so good, so hot and sweet.”

  “How do you know it’s sweet?”

  “Giselda!”

  “Gotcha. Now where was I? Oh, yeah.”

  She bent her head and licked the whole length of him with one long swipe of her tongue. He tasted divine, like fine ambrosia. Or what she thought was fine ambrosia, since she’d never had it. Her hand felt like it was holding steel encased in velvet, his texture so luxurious that she wanted to rub her breasts against it. Without conscious thought, she inched forward, moaning when her fantasy became reality. She maneuvered herself so that she was stroking his cock over her breasts, laving the head over and over her nipples until they hardened and budded. She sobbed, barely hearing Rodin’s own hoarse cry as her excitement was heightened by the erotic act.

  Some pre-cum slid out, leaving liquid trails over her body. She slid back to her original position and licked his cockhead, tasting the salty emission and wanting more. There was also an urgent need in her pussy, a terrible hunger that built up proportionally to the pooling wetness. She enclosed his cock in her mouth, licking and sucking lightly.

  A tongue snaked out, lapping at her pussy. She moaned and sucked him harder, taking him deeper into her mouth. Rodin’s hands came up and squeezed her buttocks, holding her steady for his marauding tongue, which teased and circled around her clit, pulling gently.

  She nipped him lightly with her teeth, brushing her lips down his entire length to the base of his cock before coming back up and taking him into her mouth again. He grunted, and she felt his tongue dart into her pussy, tasting the juices that were seeping out, then thrusting into the tight moistness. He circled the circumference of her opening with his tongue, making her shiver and cry out against his cock.

  He stepped up the rhythm of his tongue thrusts, stabbing into her opening with the fierceness of his cock as his thumb and forefinger encircled her clit, rubbing and pulling lightly on it. She sucked harder on his cock as the spiraling waves of pleasure engulfed her, her pussy clenching tightly around his tongue. He bucked violently at the same moment that her convulsions overwhelmed her, his tongue not letting up in its invasion as he repeatedly thrust into her mouth, shooting his seed into her. The jet hit the back of her throat and she swallowed frantically, trying to take in all that he had to give, even as waves of ecstasy rolled over her.

  Finally, they lay spent on the bedroll, breathing hard. Rodin pulled her up against him so that they were lying face to face. He kissed her tenderly, bringing tears to her eyes, the taste of their juices still on their mouths, intermingling into a sweet flavor.

  “You cheated!” Giselda accused him when she could speak, tugging a little on his chest hair.

  “What did I do?”

  “You touched me before I gave you permission.”

  “All right,” he sighed resignedly. “You have another chance to torture me.”

  She snuggled against him. “Good. Not that I didn’t like what you did, mind you --”

  He laughed. “I think I’ve created a sex monster.”

  “I’ll accept no less than a sexy sex monster.”

  “A very sexy sex monster. How’s that?”

  “Better.”

  She lay her head down on his chest, sighing in contentment. Tomorrow, they would have to travel again, go onward in their search for Michael. Maybe they would find him in the next village, injured or sick. The thought produced only a mild anxiety, like that toward an acquaintance or someone she barely knew.

  Well, she did barely know Michael. Maybe she would feel more anxi
ety for him when she knew him better.

  “How do you feel about Frederick right now?”

  Lost in thought, Giselda was startled at the seriousness of Rodin’s tone. However, she somehow knew that the question he meant to ask was ... “Am I still in love with him, you mean?”

  Her head rose due to his brief laugh. “You read my mind.”

  The question obviously meant something to him, for his body had tensed, though so subtly that she wouldn’t have noticed if she weren’t so attuned to him. She hooked a leg around one of his and hugged him like a bolster.

  “Actually, I don’t think I was ever in love with him.” She rubbed his chest with feather-light strokes to soothe him.

  “What!?” he roared. “What about all those years of running after Frederick and making cow eyes at him? Or being so jealous of that castle maid that Frederick was wooing into his ... uh, affections --”

  “Bed! I’m not blind where Frederick is concerned.” Giselda recalled the incident and giggled. “You knew about that?”

  “All right, bed. Frederick wanted her in his bed.” He curved an arm around her and stroked her skin. “I saw the whole incident. You deliberately tripped her when she was serving you so that she fell face-first onto the table. Good thing her face missed the dishes, or else she would have burned pretty bad. As I remember, she didn’t look too good after that ... er, bump.”

  She giggled again, her shoulders shaking with her mirth. “She fell all by herself; she said so.”

  “Obviously His Majesty didn’t see the venomous look she sent your way a split second after you so courteously helped her up, while I happened to be standing behind Frederick and saw your stealthy movements.”

  “You couldn’t have!”

  “I did.” Laughter tinged his voice. “I trained in stealthy movements. Not only do I know how to make one, I can spot one, especially one as amateurish as yours.”

  “All right,” she admitted grudgingly. “So I did that. Are you going to tell Frederick?”

  “Not if you answer my question.”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Well, Frederick is handsome, and he has a sex appeal that would attract any red-blooded girl. And I have found out that I am as red-blooded as they come.” She was embarrassed to find that she was blushing, though Rodin couldn’t see her in the dark. “Also, I had a crush on him from the moment I saw him, so I suppose it wasn’t really surprising that I would want a taste of what all those castle maids were giggling about.”