The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  With a big boom, they were both suddenly on the floor, looking at each other in surprise. David turned his head slightly to see the bedframe around them and realized that the bottom of the rope bed had been cut. He reached up, fingering a frayed edge.

  “Someone has cut the ropes,” he said deliberately, looking at Emilie. “I wonder who that could have been?”

  Emilie was biting her lips to keep from laughing. “I am sure you know the answer to that,” she said. “I should not find any of this humorous, but…”

  She began to giggle and David’s lips twitched. “No wonder those two ran out of the hall so quickly.”

  Emilie nodded, her laughter increasing. “They have done the same thing to Brickley,” she said. “He told father about it.”

  David grunted faintly, rolling his eyes as he lay there on his collapsed bed with Emilie splayed out on top of him. “It is war,” he muttered. “I will destroy them. I will destroy everything about them. They have not heard the last of me, those little devils.”

  Emilie was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. David looked at her, seeing her laughter, and it only reminded him how sweet she tasted upon his lips. He wanted all of her, this very moment, but the collapsing bed had given him pause. He cupped her face with a big hand.

  “I suppose this was for the best,” he said. “If we do not stop now, we will not stop until I have bedded you as a husband beds a wife. Mayhap you should return to your chamber now. I will see you on the morrow before I leave.”

  Emilie shook her head. “I will not leave,” she whispered. “I do not know when I will see you again. Do you think I will surrender this precious time with you to something as mundane as sleep?”

  He stroked her soft cheek. “I understand,” he said. “I do not want to waste time, either, but if you stay….”

  Her answer was to kiss him, softly. “I want to stay,” she said. “I belong to you, David. You are to be my husband. I am not afraid of ashamed of what will come if I do not leave.”

  He cupped her head between both hands and kissed her. “I will ravage you.”

  “I know.”

  “You will not be able to breathe.”

  “I am willing to face that.”

  “You will no longer be virgin by morning.”

  “I hope not.”

  He just looked at her. Then, he started laughing. “You certainly are a bold lass,” he said. “Most maidens are quite fearful when it comes to something like this.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “How would you know?”

  He cleared his throat softly. “I have been told.”

  She could see that he wasn’t being entirely truthful and she grinned. “I will accept the fact that you have had other women before me,” she said. Then, she grew serious. “But swear to me that I will be the last.”

  He nodded, dragging a finger down her cheek. “The last and the best,” he whispered. “I swear it with all my heart. And you will swear that you will find no other men attractive but me.”

  “I swear.”

  With nothing more to say, he latched on to her lips, suckling them gently. But he grew in power and force, putting his arms around her and shifting so that she was soon underneath him on the collapsed bed. Fortunately, the bed had fallen straight down and there was still quite a bit of padding beneath them, certainly enough for the two of them. In the dim light of a banked hearth, David went to work.

  Emilie was wearing a simple gown, one that fastened up the back, and he deftly loosened it. He was wearing a linen tunic and linen breeches, and he quite ably pulled them off his body. Nude, he sat back on his heels and pulled her dress over her head, tossing it onto the pile of his own clothing. She had a shift on underneath, a very thin piece of goods that he could see through, and he could see her nipples through the sheer fabric. Bending over to kiss her, he slipped his hands beneath the shift and lifted it right over her head.

  They were nude now, facing one another in the dim light. Emilie was on her back, looking up at him, and David could see that her focus was on his chest, his waist, and finally to his aroused manhood. He was quite well endowed. She simply lay there, looking at him for a moment, before lifting her gaze to his face.

  David met her eyes, a warm glimmer in his gaze. “Please,” he said. “Look all you wish. I will not stop you.”

  She smiled faintly. “I like the look of you,” she said. “Let me feel you now.”

  He obeyed her request, laying atop her and wedging his big body in between her legs. Emilie was more curious than she was apprehensive, although the feel of his weight on her body made it all seem so very real and close. It was true she had been bold with him, insisting she was ready for such intimacy, but the truth was that she was still apprehensive about it, naturally. Perhaps she shouldn’t be doing this, but she really didn’t care. She couldn’t remember when she hadn’t loved him and it was her destiny to be the man’s wife. She belonged to him. As she thought on what they were about to do, David rubbed his nose against hers, gently, breaking her from her train of thought.

  “Do not be afraid,” he said. “You will like this, I promise.”

  Emilie lifted her hands, her palms on his cheeks. “I am eager for you to show me.”

  He did. Kissing the tip of her nose, he slanted his mouth over hers, pulling her close with one arm while the other hand began to roam. Her skin was like silk, warm and lovely, and he touched her shoulder, her arm, dragging his hand over her belly. Her breasts were full, not too large, but certainly enough for him and he enclosed one in a big, calloused hand, caressing gently, feeling the nipple harden against his palm. All the while, he rubbed the inside of her right thigh with his erection, moving it ever closer to that elusive and delectable target.

  His mouth moved away from hers, down her neck, to capture a hard nipple. He suckled on her and Emilie’s body trembled with delight, with her first experience of a man making love to her. But not any man; it was David, her husband to be, the man only man she had ever wanted, and this moment was particularly poignant for her. Her hands were on his shoulder, in his hair, memorizing the feel and smell of him. Soon he would be gone but he would leave her with the greatest thing to remember him by – himself.

  He was about to give her himself.

  His son. Emilie secretly yearned for a child, a de Lohr son in the image of his father. They were not even married, and they had never made love before, but it didn’t matter to her. She wanted the man to fill her with his seed and give her his son. That way, she would always have something of him.

  I do not know when I will see you again. Perhaps he would never return, for the wars between Richard and John were vicious and the House of de Lohr was always in the middle of it. There was always the chance that this would be the last time she ever saw him. But if she had his son, at least she would have something of him.

  Part of him.

  The erection against her thigh moved higher and now the tip of his phallus was against the dark fluff of curls. Emily could feel it. Instinctively, she opened her legs wide to him, feeling his manhood rub against her, feeling impossibly large, so large that she wondered if he would even fit inside of her. David tightened his embrace around her, his mouth on her ear, his tongue on her earlobe, and suddenly he coiled his buttocks and thrust into her, filling her full of his desire.

  Emilie gasped as the stinging sensation, his manhood feeling enormous within the confines of her tight body. But rather than fight it, her legs opened wider and she moved her hips forward, trying to capture more of him, and David coiled his buttocks again and drove into her, more powerfully this time, driving himself all the way to the hilt as she groaned and clawed at his buttocks.

  It was too much for him to take; David withdrew completely and thrust into her again, listening to her groan again, feeling her young and nubile body conform to him. She was deliciously tight and slick; a gasp escaped his lips as he began to thrust into her, slowly at first, allowing her to become acquainted with the sensual
intrusion, but then his thrusts gained speed. Emilie’s legs were flung wide-open and he shifted himself so that he was on his knees, grasping her legs and holding them on either side of his body as he pounded into her. Beneath him, Emilie squirmed and groaned.

  He had lifted himself off of her for a reason; he wanted to watch her as he made love to her, the jarring of her breasts every time his body came into contact with hers, and the sight of her flat stomach and parted legs, her body welcoming his deep inside. Jesus, it was too beautiful to describe, arousal beyond anything he had ever experienced. He looked down, watching his manhood as it entered her body, seeing the faint stain of blood from her breeched maidenhood. It was the sign of his possession, the evidence that she truly and fully belonged to him now. It was a sight that excited him beyond reason.

  His thrusts increased. He could feel his release coming and he wanted her to join him, to experience the pleasure he was, so he released her right leg and reached down between their bodies, rubbing her swollen bud of pleasure as he continued to thrust. It was more than she could take; as highly aroused as she was, David’s expert fingers brought Emilie to her first release rather quickly.

  She started to gasp as he felt her tremors begin and he thrust hard, one final time, releasing himself within her. Still moving, still throbbing, he collapsed atop her again, his mouth finding hers, kissing her and stroking her gently with his fingers as he brought her off her first powerful release. Even then, he continued to move within her long after it was over. He simply didn’t want it to end.

  But end it did. The two of them lay upon the collapsed bed, wound in each other’s arms, as bodies cooled and breathing calmed. David, half-asleep from perhaps one of the most significant emotional experiences of his life, finally forced himself to awaken enough to look at Emilie in the face. She, too, was dozing but she opened her eyes when he moved and when their eyes met, she smiled sleepily.

  “Well?” he asked, grinning. “I would assume you found it pleasant?”

  She nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back down to her. “I found it wholly wonderful,” she murmured. “You are wonderful, my love. I thank God that he brought you back to me today. Truly, David, I think we were always meant to be together. I think I felt it from the first. I think… I think I have loved you before time began and I shall love you until well after it ends. I cannot describe my feelings for you any other way.”

  David’s smile faded as she spoke of her love for him yet again. This time, it would be more difficult to dodge it. He was feeling uncomfortable now, crushing the afterglow from their love making. He withdrew himself from her body, kissing her forehead as he did.

  “I am glad you feel that way,” he said, having no idea what to truly say to her. He couldn’t tell her that he loved her… even if he did. He simply couldn’t bring the words to his lips because he had never told anyone he’d loved them, ever. “You are mine and I am yours. It shall be that way until death.”

  Emilie noticed that, yet again, he would not speak of his feelings for her. It was twice that she told him she loved him and he had yet to tell her that he loved her in return. “It is true,” she said, eyeing him. “David, do you love me? I have told you that I love you but you have yet to speak those words.”

  He couldn’t look at her now. “What is love, Emilie?” he asked. “Is it a man who will ride across England to see you, a man who will fight for you and protect you? Is it in his actions or is it simply in empty words?”

  Now he was speaking in riddles, which upset her. She moved out from underneath him, grabbing at the shift he had pulled off her body. “I did not speak empty words,” she said, clutching the shift to her breast to protect her modesty. “I told you the truth. My love is in my actions and in my words. Why can you not tell me what is in your heart?”

  He shrugged, seeing that she was growing increasingly agitated. “Because I do not know how to verbalize it,” he said. “You are much more comfortable with that kind of thing than I am. This situation is much like the one we faced back at Windsor, at the tournament, when you wanted me to pledge marriage to you simply to kiss you. Why must you rush everything so? You are always in such a hurry to make this relationship what it will naturally become if you will only have patience.”

  She was becoming hurt now. She yanked the shift over her head and grabbed for her dress. “You speak in riddles,” she said. “It is a simple thing to speak from the heart. All you say is ‘Emilie, I love you’. It is not difficult unless you do not feel that way about me. If that is the case, then I am very sorry I made you uncomfortable by telling you my feelings. That was not my intention.”

  He sighed heavily, reaching up to grab her wrist before she could get away. “Wait, Emilie,” he said softly. “Do not go away angry.”

  She yanked her hand from his grasp and pulled the dress over her head, reaching her hands around to her back to fasten it. “I am not going away angry,” she said. “But at least I now know where I stand with you. I am sorry you will marry a woman you do not love. I thought you were at least fond of me.”

  “I am,” he insisted, looking up at her and feeling more and more cornered and ashamed that he couldn’t speak what was in his heart. “I am very fond of you. I adore you, you know that.”

  “But you do not love me?”

  He sighed harshly. “Did I not just say that?”

  She frowned terribly. “You said you adored me,” she said. “That is not the same.”

  Her gown was only halfway fastened up the back as she slid her feet into her shoes. David stood up, still nude, and grasped her arm.

  “Wait,” he commanded softly. “Please do not leave. I do not want our last moments together to be spent in anger. If I hurt your feelings, I am sorry. I never meant to.”

  Emilie was taut with emotion, her entire body strained. She was deeply hurt by his inability to speak his emotions and she pulled her arm away from him a second time. “Then tell me you love me.”

  He sighed again, heavily. “Why is that so important to you?” he asked. “I told you that I adored you. I will be your husband. Isn’t that enough for you?”

  She looked at him and he could see the tears forming in the big brown eyes. “If you do not love me, I will not hold you to this marriage contract,” she whispered tightly as the tears began to fall. “Go in the morning. Go back to your brother and fight your wars. But at least send me a missive telling me you are not coming back so that I know that I was only worth the price of my virginity and nothing more. It would be the polite thing to do.”

  With that, she unbolted the door and flew out of the room before he could stop her. David tried to follow her but she ran up the stairs and into a chamber over his head, somewhere he didn’t want to go. Her family was up there and he didn’t want Lyle to question what had happened because he didn’t want the man to know that he had just taken his daughter’s innocence. It just wasn’t something he wanted made public knowledge.

  So he retreated to his borrowed room, wrought with angst and sorrow, hating himself for being too timid or shy or embarrassed to tell Emilie he loved her. Love. He didn’t know why that word was so difficult for him to spit out, but it was. And his inability to say it had hurt someone who was very dear to him. Someone he did indeed love. Perhaps he was afraid that, somehow, speaking the word would make him weak. He’d accused his brother of being weak because he loved his new wife, so perhaps that was his problem – he didn’t want to be perceived as weak and he didn’t want to look like a hypocrite.

  So he tossed and turned all night, buried in his dilemma. Then, in the early hours of the morning, he departed Canterbury in the darkness, heading out of the castle and off towards the Welsh marches where his brother waited. He’d sent a servant to wake Emilie before he left but the servant returned to tell him that Lady Emilie was ill and could not see him off. And with that, David left Emilie behind, his heart hugely heavy and his soul in tatters, as much for himself as for her. He knew he would be
back for her; without question, he would. He simply didn’t know when. He prayed, for both of their sakes, that it wasn’t overlong.

  As David rode off into the distance, eyes were on him from Canterbury. High in the keep in the midst of that warm and purple dawn, Emilie was watching him ride away, convinced it would be the last time she ever saw him.

  After that day, Lyle swore she was never the same.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  December Year of our Lord 1193

  Lioncross Abbey Castle

  Two days after Christmas, Dustin went out to the rabbit hutches to make sure the peasant boy had given the animals enough warm bedding and food. Christopher had the babe, as usual, in the great hall and Alexander had followed her out into the hellish cold, dancing around her feet to keep warm. As she was poking into one of the cages, a figure came up beside her.

  “It is awfully cold to be out here,” David said, his nose red with the ice. “What are you doing?”

  “Making sure they do not freeze to death,” she said, slamming a little door closed and securing it. “I thought you were tending to the new men-at-arms?”

  “I was,” David said. “But Edward and Leeton are drilling them in battle rules and I want no part of it. Where’s Chris?”

  “Inside with Christin, where else?” she snorted. “Sometimes I think he loves her more than me.”

  There was something in David’s eyes that set her strangely. “I doubt it,” he replied evenly, then paused a moment. His gaze was intense on her as he spoke. “I know, Dustin.”

  She blinked at him, tilting her head. “Know? Know what?”