One Knight Enchanted: A Medieval Romance (Rogues & Angels Book 1)

by Claire Delacroix

  She trusted him, which was the finest aphrodisiac Rolfe had ever known.

  He gripped her waist, loving how his hand spanned her back there, and held her captive to the pleasure he intended to give. The woman would drive him mad with desire. She writhed against him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her wet sweetness flooding his senses.

  When her hips began to buck, Rolfe held her more resolutely. He drove her higher, demanding more, caressing her with more vigor.

  Suddenly, Annelise arched back. She gave a little cry as she strained for the heavens and found her release, then wilted and sagged against him, her breath coming in quick spurts.

  Luckily for the lady, Rolfe was not finished pleasuring his bride just yet.

  “That was a marvel,” Annelise whispered, unable to believe the power of the tremor that had nigh overwhelmed her.

  “That, wife of mine, is only the beginning,” her husband murmured then he ran his tongue over her tenderness once more.

  Annelise gasped, then laughed a little. “You know my sources of pleasure better than I do,” she charged and he chuckled.

  “Should a husband not do so?” He trailed kisses across her skin. He tickled her navel with his tongue but Annelise was impatient to grant him pleasure, too. She caught his head in her hands and pulled him upward. He caught the weight of her breasts in his hands and turned his attention to her nipples, teasing them with his fingers and lips until they were aching and taut.

  Annelise moaned softly as she rocked on her feet, powerless beneath his touch. The man was a sorcerer. He wove a spell to enchant her completely. He would make her a slave to the pleasure that only he had ever given her.

  And Annelise did not mind.

  Indeed, she was increasingly certain that her husband bore no disfigurement at all. His hands were strong and well-formed. She felt no scar on his chest or his shoulders, and the sole thing unusual about his mouth was its unholy power to give pleasure. His legs were muscular and he possessed both of them.

  Was it his face that was scarred? It could not be fearsomely so, not from what she had felt. He possessed both ears and they were shaped as they should be. She felt no scar upon his jaw or his cheek.

  Was it his nose?

  One eye?

  He pinched her nipple so that she gasped in pleasure then swept her into his arms. She guessed that he strode for the bed, but had no opportunity to ask for he kissed her. His tongue danced with hers, his kiss shaking her to her very marrow—as she already came to believe that every good kiss should. She felt her desire rising again, that seductive shimmer beneath her skin making her anticipate whatever would come next. They tumbled onto the mattress which was soft and thick.

  Annelise landed on her back with her husband beside her. He held her fast against his side and leaned over her. If not for the darkness, she would surely have seen his face. His hand swept over her thigh, then found the spot where his caress had given her such pleasure just moments before. He eased one knee between hers, and she wrapped herself around him, wanting him to be closer.

  She could not help but note that every bit of him she touched was perfectly normal.

  Then his fingers and their wicked dance obliterated all such concerns from her thoughts. Annelise felt that she was a slave to sensation and she adored it. She arched against her husband’s strength, rubbing her breasts against his chest, feeling his heart beat faster. He emanated a heat that seemed to hint at his own excitement. She pressed kisses to his chest, then grazed his shoulder with her teeth. He growled with satisfaction and she bit him a little, making him chuckle in a way that thrilled her.

  He shifted her beneath him and eased between her thighs. Annelise felt a hardness against her thighs as he braced his weight above her, and wished mightily that she might be able to see him in this moment. She parted her thighs to welcome him, for theirs was an agreement made, and heard him inhale sharply.

  “Annelise,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “My lady Annelise.”

  He eased inside her, moving slowly and pausing often to kiss her temple. Annelise held on to his shoulders, waiting for the anticipated pain. She felt full and stretched, but also so very close to him. It was an intimacy beyond anything she had experienced before and one that made tears rise to her eyes. They were two become one, their flesh pressed together from shoulder to toe, their lives bound together until death did they part. Annelise lifted her hips against him, then realized he moved no deeper.

  “And that will be the worst of it,” he murmured to her, kissing her lips quickly. “How does it feel?”

  “Wondrous in a new way,” she confessed, feeling that there could be no secrets between two people who had joined thus in the night.

  “Did it not hurt?”

  “Only a little, sir,” she confessed. “Will you show me more?”

  “Of course, my lady. Your wish is my command.” His voice sounded taut and she wondered if he held something back to ensure her pleasure. Then he moved and she heard herself gasp aloud at the brush against that sensitive spot. She squirmed beneath him and he groaned, a most delicious sound of surrender and one Annelise wished to hear again. She locked her knees around his waist, pulling him closer, and on his next thrust, he sank more deeply inside her. Annelise tightened her arms around his neck. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, and her nipples were teased by the hair on his chest.

  He moved slowly, then with increasing speed. Annelise felt his pulse increase and his skin heat. She heard the rasp of his breath and felt an answering arousal within herself. They moved together, driving each other on to some crescendo she could not name but did not want to abandon.

  All too soon, the heat rose furiously within her again. He rubbed against her and Annelise cried out in pleasure. She knew that her nails tore into his back as she arched against him and found her release once more.

  “Sir!” she cried, feeling she had betrayed him somehow.

  But her husband roared with a pleasure that could not be feigned. He reared back, clutching her buttocks tightly as the heat of his seed poured into her. He was strong and taut, a perfect warrior in every way, and his release made Annelise feel that they had tasted magic together.

  “Oh!” she said softly and heard him chuckle.

  He rolled to one side, landing on the mattress beside her, and held her fast against his side. “Oh!” he mimicked, then kissed her temple.

  “Did I do what I should?” she asked.

  “You were perfection itself, my Annelise,” he said, satisfaction resonating in his tone. He brushed the hair back from her face with his fingertips, and she wondered if he could see in the darkness for his touch was unerring. “Did I do what I should?”

  “I am not certain, but it was quite a marvel,” she admitted and he laughed.

  Annelise liked that sound well. She propped herself up on one elbow and touched his shoulder, peering down to where she knew his face had to be.

  What would she have given to have seen his eyes in this moment of moments?

  On the other hand, it was easier to ask bold questions when she did not have to look him in the eye.

  “Is that how other people consummate their marriages?” she asked.

  “That has always been my understanding,” he confirmed, amusement in his tone.

  Annelise leaned over him, pressing her breast against Rolfe’s ribs. The tumble of her hair landed on his chest and she felt his hand move into its length. She liked that he was not immune to her charms, such as they were, and dared to ask an even bolder question.

  “Can we do it again?”

  He laughed more heartily than he had yet and Annelise smiled at the sound. “It would be my pleasure, my lady,” he replied and rolled her to her back before he claimed her lips once more.

  His kisses proved to be more powerful each time. Annelise was breathless when he raised his head and her heart was thundering. She stroked his broad shoulders and smiled with satisfaction. “Perhaps it would be mine, sir,”
she replied and he laughed again.

  “I wager we will both be well pleased, my Annelise.”

  “I would not wager against you on such terms,” she said, prompting his laughter once again. His kiss was quick and thorough.

  “Then you have no complaints, my Annelise?”

  “Not about this, sir,” she began but had no chance to continue for her husband kissed her to silence.

  And within a heartbeat, Annelise did not care.

  Rolfe awakened before the dawn, eager to begin his first day free of the curse. He would be a man in daylight again and could explain all to his marvel of a wife. They could decide whether to remain in the palace or ride for Viandin.

  The fountain tinkled merrily in the courtyard and the chamber was still dark. Annelise burrowed against his side. He could feel her hair strewn over her shoulders and savored her sweet warmth pressed against him. He eased a tendril away from her cheek with a fingertip, affection swelling within him.

  What a wife this palace had brought to him! Rolfe was jubilant that they had sent his curse on its way in such a resounding fashion. He would never have anticipated finding a woman of such passion as Annelise simply by chance, much less having such a woman as his wife.

  The bottle truly had made his dreams come true. He had a palace, a wife and obvious wealth. They could raise a family within these walls, if she desired. They might like to return to Viandin, but it was a relief not to be reliant upon Adalbert’s good will to build a future.

  On this morning Rolfe would eliminate the secret between them and share his truth with Annelise.

  It was possible that she might hold a small grudge. Rolfe considered that her eyes might flash that he had not initially confided all of the tale. He kissed her forehead and decided he would ensure she was in a receptive mood for his confession.

  Flowers were a well-established path to a woman’s heart. Reluctantly, Rolfe slipped from the warmth of the bed. The palace was filled with the warm air of a summer morn but it was his wife he did not wish to leave.

  He walked to the garden without donning a chemise. In truth, there was advantage in having no servants or others in the palace. He cut more of the same red roses that had perfumed her bath. Their scent already evoked the sight of Annelise’s smile to Rolfe and the taste of her skin. He smiled in anticipation of the aftermath of his confession.

  Their celebration might be an exhausting proposition.

  Rolfe could hardly wait. Even the memory of Rosalinde’s scorn could not color his optimism this morn. Annelise was different, Rolfe was certain. They would make a good life together, here in this remote palace. He would invite friends and artisans, perhaps establish a village with a mill. Their children would prosper in this place.

  He hurried to arrange the roses in the chamber where Annelise slept, determined to surprise her when she awakened. Rolfe surveyed the result and decided he needed more blooms. The dawn drew near as he hastened back to the garden one last time.

  The first rays of the sun lit the roof of the palace and Rolfe watched the sky lighten in the east. For the first time in over a month, he could savor the dawn without fearing the curse. He smiled as the sky lightened and took a deep breath of the morning air.

  He savored his first day as a man again.

  Then the morning breeze slid through his tail.

  Rolfe spun around and his heart sank when he saw the truth.

  How could this be?

  Even as he struggled to understand why the change was occurring, an unseen force propelled him across the garden toward the gate. Rolfe fought against it every step of the way. He knew he was not permitted within these walls in wolf form, but he should not have become a wolf this day. He should have been able to remain with Annelise and tell her the truth!

  Love was supposed to be his salvation.

  What had gone awry?

  Rolfe quickly found himself flung through the gate. When he landed on his four paws, he ran toward the open gate, but they closed against him.

  He sat down in the snow, perplexed.

  The curse had not been lifted by his efforts.

  Had the second djinn been wrong? Had he misunderstood her terms? Or had she deceived him, promising a reward then stealing it away when he had earned it? There was a lesson there on the deceptiveness of women, mortal or djinn, of which Rolfe should not have needed a reminder. Rosalinde had taught him that lesson, after all.

  He was a fool to have trusted the djinn and a worse fool for beginning to trust Annelise. And now he would have considerable time to consider his error.

  Alone.

  In the snow outside the palace walls.

  He lifted his head and howled in frustration.

  Annelise awoke feeling warm and content. She snuggled beneath the coverlet in the great bed and let her fingers ease between the linens in search of her amorous husband.

  He was gone.

  She sat up in surprise, her hair falling over her shoulder as the linens dropped to her waist.

  “Sir?” she asked, then shouted more loudly. “Sir? Where are you?”

  There was no reply.

  Annelise was alone.

  She got out of bed to look for him, noting that there was no sign of his clothing. That great cloak was gone and so were his boots. She wondered how he could have abandoned her after the night they had spent together.

  Then she noticed the flowers. They were scattered all over the bed and cast across the floor surrounding it. Annelise smiled with the certainty that her husband had left them for her. Their scent was familiar, both from her bath and from the garden last evening, but still she did not recognize the blossoms.

  For an ogre who used such unusual means to find a wife, Annelise’s new husband had a definite measure of charm.

  She picked up one blood red bloom and fingered its soft petals. She buried her nose in it and closed her eyes in recollection of the night before.

  Just the day before she had left Beauvoir’s bailey with the dawn. Had she truly wed the lord of this palace since then? Or had it all been a dream?

  The red stone winked in the ring on Annelise’s left hand as though it would confirm the truth to her. She supposed it must be a garnet, which was a valuable stone, and knew it was as real as she.

  She noticed the dried blood stain on the linens and considered it. It was clear she was a maiden no longer and she had not dreamed it.

  She bent and smelled her husband’s skin upon the linens, then shivered in recollection of his caress in the darkness.

  She was wed.

  The match was consummated.

  Her husband had promised to reveal himself to her this morning. Annelise was more than ready to learn the worst about him and to see his truth. She would look upon him and not give any sign of revulsion, no matter how scarred he might be.

  He had been tender with her. Gentle. Kind. Her heart swelled. The measure of a man was not in his features but in his heart. She would tell him so, if he doubted the truth.

  But where was he? Annelise considered the empty room again, then smiled as she guessed.

  It was his chivalry at root again. He had let her sleep and was waiting for her to join him to break their fast together. He could not yet know that she was inclined to rise with the dawn. That he did the same was yet another trait they held in common.

  That realization was all the encouragement Annelise needed to rise, wash, and dress.

  Draped across a chest was another surprise. The kirtle of emerald green was so dark and rich that Annelise had never seen the like. She touched it tentatively, guessing that it must be a gift for her. There was no other lady in this abode, after all. There were fine ochre shoes of smooth leather fit for a queen, a sheer chemise embellished with fine embroidery, a cloud of cloth of gold for wimple and fillet.

  Annelise found a steaming bucket and a cloth, and smiled. She washed then donned her new garments. They fit perfectly and were of such fine material that she could not believe her good fortune. She
spun happily in the middle of the room. She could easily become accustomed to her husband’s generosity.

  It seemed she had not made such a bad match, after all.

  But there was a great deal Annelise wanted to ask her spouse. She certainly had not felt any evidence of disfigurement the night before and she thought she had made a fairly thorough investigation.

  It was time to find him and learn the truth, whatever it might be.

  The palace proved to be as deserted as it had been when Annelise arrived. No matter how loudly she called, only the echo of her own voice sounded in response.

  What of the servants her husband had mentioned? She found no sign of them.

  Had he lied to her?

  Annelise did not like that prospect at all.

  And where had he gone? The pleasure of her surprises dissipated when she could not locate him.

  She did find a simple meal, left for one. The scent of fresh bread drew her to a room alongside the chamber they had shared. As before, there was butter and cheese, as well as a rosy apple and a cup of golden ale. She ate, assuming that he had already done as much. Then she embarked on a thorough investigation of the palace, resolved that she would not rest before she found her spouse.

  The palace was not infinite. She was certain she could explore every nook before midday.

  The sun was high by the time Annelise had explored all of the rooms of the palace.

  She had not found another living soul.

  Where had her husband gone? Where could he be hiding?

  She wondered whether there was only one gate in the entire circumference of the surrounding wall. There might be another gate for the servants to use. There might be a watchtower at some point where she could overlook the grounds and see what she had missed. She decided to walk the entire circle of the wall.

  It was not long before she reached the stables once more and she hurried into their shadows. Her husband might have taken refuge here, in the company of his horses.