Medieval Master Warlords (27 page)

Kellington gasped as he came down on top of her, his lips to her lips, his hand to her breast.  The other arm wrapped around her, holding her close against his torso. As his feverish kisses plundered, his fingers began to play with the nipple of her left breast, creating a hard little pellet that sent bolts of pleasure through her body.   He would alternately tease the nipple and squeeze the breast, creating such heat that Kellington began to tremble.  When his lips finally left hers and descended on the taut nipple, she groaned with delight.

He had done this to her once before, in the solar of Pelinom. Kellington remembered how his hot, wet mouth had caused all thoughts to flee from her head.  She remembered how it had turned her into a weak, boneless thing that was purely dependent upon his touch.   When his mouth moved from one breast to the other, she savored the new sensations, hardly having been able to imagine what intimate relations with a man would have been like. For everything she had ever thought about the subject, it was nothing compared to the reality.

He played with her delightful breasts for some time.  His attention had sparked a roaring blaze in her body, raging through her and seeming to culminate in the private area between her legs. Everything seemed to begin, and end, there.   Her legs came up, instinctively, her body twitching and thrashing as his mouth and fingers stoked her fires.

Jax lifted himself up, settling his massive body between her slender legs.  His enormous hands took her own within them, kissing each one sweetly before stretching her arms high above her head.   As he did so, he lowered himself atop her, his dual-colored gaze boring into her.   Wide-eyed and gasping, Kellington looked up at him, no words to describe what she was feeling.   One hand kept her arms gently pinned above her head as the other roved her body freely, tenderly fondling her breasts, moving down her torso and soft belly to the fluff of curls between her legs. 

Kellington started when she felt his fingers tenderly stroking the exterior of her Venus Mound. He was extremely careful, acquainting her with his touch before finally parting the lips and inserting a gentle finger into her.  She gasped with surprise and some fright as he plunged deeper and deeper.  She was so slick that her moisture was saturating the rug beneath them.   He could insert two fingers into her quite easily and did so, listening to her groan. It was too much for him to take; removing his hand, he looked her in the eye as his enormous member pushed its way inside of her.

Kellington bit her lip and closed her eyes as he slid firmly into her quivering flesh.  Jax watched her face, his entire body trembling as he struggled to control himself.  She was too delicious, too beautiful, and he could contain himself no longer. He had waited for this moment since nearly the moment they met, claiming this woman who had very quickly become all to him.  He loved her with everything he possessed.  And now he would possess her.

He thrust forward, seating himself to the hilt to her soft cries of surprise. He paused to allow her to absorb the feel of his flesh within her, but a momentary pause was all he was able to give.  Then, gathering her into his arms, he began to move, thrusting into her with gentle strokes, feeling her nubile body respond to him freely and innocently. Sex to him had always been a physical need, never a pleasure. At times it had been a mode of conquest. But at the moment, he was beyond pleasure. He had found that little corner of heaven he had told her about, once.  He had finally achieved it.

His thrusts became stronger, faster, as delicious friction built.  Kellington’s arms were around his neck and she held on tightly, moving with him, feeling the new sensations consume her.  His flesh against her, his power in her, around her, consumed every thought.   Whatever maiden’s fear she had felt was gone; there hadn’t even been any pain when he had finally entered her.  All she had felt was an intimate fullness, a satisfaction, that had been difficult to comprehend.  All she knew was that Jax had taken control of her heart, her body, and she willingly gave it.  Even now, as he held her tightly and plunged deep into her slick body, she wished it could go on forever.  It was a moment like none other.

One of Jax’s muscular arms unwound itself from her slender torso and he turned slightly so that they were nearly lying on their sides.  His fingers found the fluff of curls between her legs again, feeling where their bodies joined, and began to stroke her.   Kellington was suddenly lifted to a higher plane of pleasure; within three strokes of his tender finger, her loins exploded with delicious tremors and a scream pealed from her lips.   Jax suddenly thrust very hard, a grunt escaping his lips as he spilled deep into her welcoming body. But he did not stop moving; he continued to move, magnifying their pleasure, until there was nothing left but sweat, warmth, and the sounds of their pleasurable gasping.

Kellington thought she might actually have fainted.  From the moment that stars burst before her eyes, she was cognizant of little but heated pleasure. Now she was in the warm, muddled world between consciousness and unconsciousness, feeling Jax’s warm body around her and wallowing in the sensation.   She finally opened her eyes when Jax shook her gently.

“Are you all right?” he asked, nuzzling her cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, so weak and satisfied that it was nearly impossible to do anything else. “I am fine,” she murmured. “You did not hurt me at all.”

He stopped nuzzling and looked down at her.  She could feel his gaze and she opened her eyes to find the dual-colored orbs staring at her.  She smiled weakly.

“What is it?” she asked, touching his cheek. “Why do you look at me so?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Because… because never in my life did I imagine I would have something as wonderful as you.  It does not seem real.”

Her smile broadened. “It is real.”

“I know. But it still seems like a dream.”

“To me as well.”

He gathered her up in his arms again, holding her tightly.   Gone was the feverish kissing, the passion, the force behind his actions.  Now, he simply wanted to hold her.

Kellington closed his eyes, feeling more safe and comforted than she ever had in her entire life.  Never did she think she would experience the love of a man, the tender comfort and scorching passion it would bring.   It had been beyond her comprehension. And of all the men she imagined she would marry, the brutal warlord Jax de Velt was not among them.

If this is a dream, do not let me wake up.

She slept.

***

“Their army is camped about two miles to the west,” Keats said. “They are just sitting there, enjoying the spoils of their thievery, including my daughter. I say that now is the time to strike.”

Keats, Denedor, de Vesci and Piers Michelson were standing in various positions around the baron’s solar, discussing the best course of action against de Velt’s army.   It had been almost two hours since de Velt had left with Kellington, and he and his army had retreated to the west to set up camp.  It had been a brittle, confused two hours.   Now, the men of Alnwick were gaining steam and formulating a plan.  They knew de Velt was coming for them. They would not go down without a fight.

“I agree with Keats,” Denedor said in a low, calm voice. “They are planning their siege against Alnwick as we speak.  De Velt always attacks at sunset, which means we have six hours left at the most.  We must attack them now while they are off guard and take the offensive. If we do not, de Velt will destroy this place and we will all be dead by morning.”

“But de Velt has what he came for,” de Vesci insisted; he had been existing in the realm of fear and denial since de Velt’s army had retreated. “He already took Lady Kellington. Why would he attack Alnwick now? He has no cause.”

Denedor shook his head. “My lord, mark my words; de Velt will attack, if not for vengeance, then for spite.  Why do you think they are still camped out there? Our spies tell us that they are cutting down trees and constructing something, which I can only imagine to be either ladders or a siege tower.  He already has two siege engines; we have seen them.  I tell you, the man is planning to attack no matter what the lady has promised us.”

Keats was standing by the lancet window of the solar, his arms folded protectively across his body. “I lived through Pelinom’s siege but I was virtually the only one.  I do not believe de Velt’s mercy will hold out a second time.” He turned to look at the men in the room. “He will attack us, of that I have no doubt.  We must take the offensive immediately and hit his army while they are out in the open if we have any hope of surviving.”

Denedor and Keats were of the same mindset.  Young, tall and slender Piers would side with his captain.  Only de Vesci was the last holdout.  He had far more to lose than any of them and was understandably reluctant.  He scratched his balding head, thinking of his wife, his two sons and daughter that he must protect. 

“Speaking of spite,” he said, looking pointedly at Denedor. “Your advice to attack could not have anything to do with Lady Kellington, could it?”

Denedor shrugged. “I intend to reclaim her.  I will make it no secret.”

Keat’s cast a long glance at Denedor before shaking his head. “He’s probably already taken her,” he muttered. “She is the spoils of a murderer.”

Denedor looked at him. “Nothing that cannot be erased given time.”

“You are too forgiving.”

Denedor’s gaze lingered on him, seeing how disgusted and sickened he was by his daughter’s behavior.  He leaned into the man and lowered his voice. “You will not touch her, is that clear? Whatever anger or hatred you feel, you will not harm her or I will kill you.”

Keat’s met his gaze, digesting his statement, before looking away. “I could not harm her,” he said. “She is still my flesh. But what she has done… it is reprehensible.”

Denedor did not reply; instead, he faced de Vesci. “I would like permission to outfit the men and prepare them for battle.  If we are going to move, then we need to do it right away.  We cannot delay.  I would further suggest you move your family into town and away from the castle until this madness is settled.”

De Vesci was torn, still trying to deny the obvious but wanting to remove his family to safety at the same time. He knew what Jax de Velt did to prisoners.

“But you are speaking of attacking de Velt,” he insisted weakly. “You know the man, Denedor. ‘Tis lunacy to move against him.”

“If we do not, then we sit here and wait to die.”

“But you speak of suicide.”

“It would be suicide not to act, for the man is coming whether or not we move first.  Is that your wish, my lord?  That we sit and wait for our deaths?”

It wasn’t. De Vesci scratched his head, shifted in his seat, all of the signs of an agitated man.  He finally looked to Denedor. “If you are very sure about all of this?”

The knight nodded. “As sure as I can be.  May I again ask for permission to mobilize the army?”

De Vesci sighed heavily, looking to Keats and Piers, before finally nodding his head in defeat. “Very well,” he mumbled, wiping at his forehead as he did so. “But give me a contingent of men to protect my family.  Twenty soldiers, I should think.”

“Ten will be sufficient,” Denedor snapped his fingers to Piers, who immediately quit the solar in his quest to form an escort for the baron.  With the young knight clearing the room, Denedor turned back to the baron. “Our spies say that de Velt is spread out in the field that belongs to Edward Rest, a farmer who holds a great deal of land to the west of Alnwick.  The field is bordered on the west and north by a forest.  If we can create two fronts, one from the east and one from the west, we should be able to catch de Velt by surprise.  It is our only hope.”

De Vesci was resigned to the battle, though clearly still not happy about it. “How many men would you say he has?”

“At least seven to eight hundred,” Denedor replied.  “A sizable force.”

De Vesci nodded. “And how many do we have at Alnwick?”

“Nine hundred and forty six.”

“Then we outnumber him?”

“Aye, we do, but we are speaking of de Velt mercenaries. They are not ordinary fighting men.”

“Can we send for reinforcements, then?”

Denedor cocked a thoughtful eyebrow. “The nearest castle is Edlingham, but she is a small castle and would not hold near the number of reinforcements that we would require.  Warkworth is to the south and would carry sufficient numbers, but I suspect we would not see them until tomorrow morning.”

“What of Bamburgh?”

“’Tis the same as Warkworth.  We would not see any help until the morrow.”

De Vesci sighed heavily. “How many men could we get from Edlingham?”

“One hundred at the most.”

“Then send for them immediately.  And also send for reinforcements from Warkworth and Bamburgh.  Even if they do not arrive until morning, perhaps we can hold out with what we have until they come.”

“We cannot wait for any of them to arrive,” Denedor pointed out. “We must strike without them and strike now.”

De Vesci could not disagree. Denedor sent one soldier on the run to Edlingham, two others to Warkworth and Bamburgh respectively, before returning to the solar to find de Vesci and Keats well into their third cup of wine.  Each man had his different reason for drinking to the point of drunkenness as a way of easing their guilt and fears, but Denedor could not allow himself that luxury.  He was about to take on Jax de Velt and he would need every faculty he possessed.