Tales of Enchantment Read online

  His mouth released her breast and he came back up to kiss her. “Do you still want to go on?”

  How could he ask? She almost hated him for dragging her out of the sensuous haze to think. “Yes.” Maybe she should ask… “Do you want to go on?”

  “Do I?” He chuckled against her lips. “Of course I do. Does this”—he rolled his hips, which caused his lower part to rub against that aching part of her—“give you any idea how much?”

  “Not really,” she admitted. “I only know it feels good.” A breath caught in her throat. “Don’t stop.”

  “I just want to give you one last chance to change your mind.”

  “I won’t.”

  “As you wish.” He traced a path down between her breasts with his tongue, giving her skin long laps and licks.

  “Oh. Please.” Her upper body squirmed and writhed, telling him what she was shy to voice out. She wished he’d take her nipples into his magical mouth again, and it seemed he could read her mind or her body language, for he covered the dry one with his mouth and moistened it into a hard, tight bud. She hummed and her fingers plowed into his hair, keeping him in place. Dimly, she noted that his hand was a soothing caress as it swept down her body and dragged her dress down with it. The hand lingered at her hips.

  “Lift your ass a little, sweetheart.”

  The words thrilled her, though she didn’t understand why they would produce such a feeling in her. She complied with his request, and he removed her dress, arranging it so that she lay on top of it.

  His mouth released her breast and trailed a path downward. His tongue circled her navel and dipped teasingly into the tiny hole. His hand, hot and roughened with calluses, glided up her thigh. Heat branded and marked her skin. She didn’t know why, but her lower body was excreting liquid. She could feel the juices leaking out and running down toward the crack of her ass. She hoped his hand didn’t go there; she’s sure to die of embarrassment. Oh no, his hand was playing circles on her inner thigh and moving closer and closer to—

  “Stop!”

  The man above her stilled. He lifted his head, and his face was a rigid mask of control. He opened his mouth as if to ask her something, then closed it, and then opened it again. “May I ask why you decide to stop things at this particular juncture?” He winced. “No pun intended.”

  “Because… uhm…” She looked away, embarrassed. His fingers were still drawing circles on her thigh and playing havoc with her feelings. She wished she hadn’t spoken up. “Well, because, well, water’s coming out of my…my…down there, and I’m sure I’m not peeing!”

  His face mirrored the shock that seemed to be going through his system. Then, a booming laughter burst out from him. He hugged her tight. “You’re priceless. Let me tell you something. What’s happening with you is perfectly normal. Your body is readying itself for my entrance.”

  “Entrance?”

  “You’ll see.” He smiled. “That is, if you still want me to continue.”

  “Yes, please.” She sighed. “I love the sensations that I’m experiencing right now. Everything’s so new, but it’s very pleasurable.”

  “I’m going to place my fingers in you, like this…”

  She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes. She’d never felt anything like it. His fingers glided among the folds of her mound, rubbing, moving slickly through the creamy juices from her body. One finger traced the rim of her channel, and she felt something building up in her, some tightening pressure that built and built. He pressed, and she exploded. She didn’t try to think or question why, she just followed the instincts of her body. Her hips moved in rhythm with the convulsions that racked through her. When it was over, she was boneless from satisfaction, but from somewhere, she found the energy to grin. “That was wonderful! Can we do it one more time?”

  “You just need to tell me.” He inserted one finger into her, and she was off again. He kissed her and groaned. “You’re so responsive. I can’t wait to get into you, but I need to prepare you first.”

  Red didn’t understand what he was saying, but his finger inside her was bliss. He was moving it forward and backward, and something was building in her again. Though she’d gone off twice now, the ache in her belly was still there, deep and heavy. He inserted in another finger while keeping the rhythm, then another one. How many more? Oooh, she felt so stretched now, and the insidious pressure was tightening and coiling in her belly—

  Void. Emptiness.

  “Nooooo!” She thrashed her head and wailed. “Come back!” And then he was there again, seeking entry into her core. This time, the object was wider and harder. Her eyes flew open. She didn’t even know his name. “What—”

  “Relax.” He gritted his teeth, control evident in the veins of his neck standing out. He grunted and pushed in another inch, stretching her to the full. “I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.” He surged in and tore through the barrier.

  Time ceased to have any meaning. There was pain, yes, and she was stretched so wide she didn’t think she’d ever be the same again, but it was quickly superimposed by an expectant kind of pleasure, a need for him to move, to feel him slide his big thing in and out of her. It pulsed inside of her, full of life. The searing pain disappeared, to be replaced by a pain of a different kind.

  He kissed her lips, a long, slow one that caught at her heart. “All right?”

  “Yes, there was pain at first, but not so much now.”

  “What I’m about to do will take away all the pain.” He clasped her legs around his waist and smiled at her. He withdrew inch by slow inch, such that she felt every ridge and bump in his cock. It rubbed against her inner walls and created the most delicious friction that intensified the ache in her belly. She had a sudden urgent desire to shout his name. “Wha-what’s your name?”

  “Neal the palace gardener, sometimes woodcutter, sometimes huntsman. You?”

  “Red, just Red.” She gasped, because he was pushing his cock in at this point, and he was drawing out the process, the slowness both excruciating and causing her toes to curl. Her heels dug into his waist as she strained. “Neal, oh Neal, that’s so so so good.”

  He repeated the process, but this time, he reached in between their bodies and flicked his finger at a tiny nub in her sex. Pleasure sliced through her like lightning. “Again.” She was standing on a plateau, reaching for something elusive. He thumbed the sensitive bud. “Ah… Ah… More, more, more please.” Contradictorily, he withdrew his hand and drove into her, his hard body bumping against that center of her pleasure.

  She screamed.

  He turned wild at the sound, thrusting and plunging into her dripping core with no rhythm. She was with him every step of the way, obeying the instinctive commands of her body. They were like two animals in heat, rutting because it was their nature.

  Red felt the tension coil and spiral out of control. She looped her arms around him and held onto him as he rode her. Her hips rose to meet the challenge of each of his downstroke, although she wasn’t always successful. Within, she was reaching…reaching…. Pleasure washed in huge waves over her as she spasmed. “Aaaaaah……………..”

  She shattered around him, her sex clamping down on his cock and gripping him with no mercy. She squeezed him, wanting all that he had to give. He surged into her, shooting out his load in several installments. She trembled at the sensation. Finally, he collapsed on top of her, panting.

  They were both sweaty from their exertions and dirty from lying on the forest floor. Yet, Red had never felt more wonderful.

  Neal supported himself on his arms before leaning down to possess her lips in a long, slow kiss. “How do you feel now, Red, just Red?”

  “Like a woman.” She pressed a kiss on his determined chin. “With her man.” She smiled at him. “Thank you, Neal the palace gardener, sometimes woodcutter, sometimes— Wait! Did you say palace gardener?” She knew her eyes were wide, but she couldn’t help it.

  “Yes.” He looked like
he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but the eyes on her were wary.

  “Have you seen Prince Frederick? Is he as dreamy as they say he is?”

  He huffed a laugh at her excited tone. “You women!”

  Red thrilled at being included in this once elusive group of people.

  “I wouldn’t know; I’m a man and I don’t lean that way.” Neal’s eyes twinkled.

  She gave him a smack on the shoulder, mock angry. How funny that she would feel so at ease with this man, who was a stranger and yet not.

  “Tell you what. Why don’t you judge for yourself?”

  “How can I do that when I’m stuck here?” With Neal here, the village transformed into a place of excitement and the forest into a magical land.

  Neal appeared uncomfortable, nervous. “I know we just met, but I’d really like to get to know you better.”

  She wriggled beneath him. “Better like this?”

  Neal groaned, then swooped down for a hard kiss. “Yes, you minx. But also talking, laughing, getting to know you, and just…being together.”

  It sounded wonderful. “I’d like that, too.”

  Relief set in, causing his body to relax. “That’s great.”

  They kissed again, slow and tender, a promise of new and amazing things to come.

  When they broke apart, Red asked, puzzled, “I still don’t get it. How will I get to see Prince Frederick?”

  Neal smiled, and that smile did things to her that made her giddy. And dizzy. “If all goes well, I’m taking you to the palace. As my wife.”

  The Question of Royalty

  Chapter One

  Thunder rolled across the wide expanse of the land. Lightning lit the dark sky. The wind howled, making a loud whooshing sound as it slipped through the trees. Rain poured down in torrents, pelting him from all sides.

  Prince Frederick of Mithirien spurred his horse onward, glorying in the hard sting of the rain on his face. On both sides of the narrow dirt road, trees swayed and leaves danced in conjunction with the wind. His head lolled back as he laughed. His heart filled with exhilaration at the sight of Mother Nature in all her vehemence and glory. Behind him, he could hear the thundering gallop of his companions’ horses as they raced to catch up with him.

  He crouched low over Dauntless’s neck and urged his horse to gallop faster, willing him to be the first to reach the stables located behind the hunting lodge. Despite the raging storm, Frederick’s seat was graceful as he moved in sync with the horse’s gait. He felt the heaving sides beneath his thighs and the hard pounding of Dauntless’s hoofs on the uneven ground, enabling them to reach the stables well ahead of anybody -- even Rodin, his best friend, foremost bodyguard, and one of the top horsemen in all of Mithirien.

  As Dauntless reached the stables, the stable boy ran up, then held the horse steady as Frederick jumped down. After caressing Dauntless’s nose and murmuring words of affection and praise, he allowed the stable boy to lead away his prized stallion. He then stood inside the stables, out of the pouring rain and waited for the rest of his men. His head was tilted at a cocky angle and his stance was proud.

  A moment later, Rodin drew up in front of him. Breath heaving, Rodin jumped down and clapped Frederick heartily on the back. Good humor sparkled in his eyes. “Seems I can never beat you, Frederick.”

  Frederick slung an arm around Rodin’s shoulder. “There’s always next time, friend. C’mon, let’s get out of this storm.” He urged Rodin toward the lodge. “I want a hot bath for my freezing body and a hot meal to fill my empty stomach.”

  Rodin laughed. “You took the words right out of my mouth. Pity it stormed so suddenly. I was looking forward to hunting some fat rabbit for dinner.”

  “There’s always” -- Frederick started to say, and was joined by Rodin -- “next time, friend.”

  Both men laughed.

  At six feet two, Frederick topped Rodin by a few inches. He was also leaner in build, which made him just a little quicker than Rodin during their sparring matches. He knew, though, that it was neither his height nor his amazing ability with the sword that drew women in droves to his side, but the startling good looks of his ancestors with which he was greatly blessed. Of course, being a prince didn’t hurt either.

  “Don’t you think it odd, the way it stormed so suddenly?” Rodin shouted to be heard over the pounding rain.

  Frederick glanced at him thoughtfully as they made their way to the lodge, protected from the heavy downpour by the sheltering roof that ran from the stables to the lodge. “You think the gods are playing with us?”

  Rodin was the son of the gardener, and Frederick knew most of his father’s subjects, especially the peasants, still believed in multiple deities and their workings in the people’s lives. However, he thought that Rodin, having been educated with him by the royal tutors, would be free of those superstitions.

  “Yes!”

  “But we’ve always had sudden downpours here in Mithirien.”

  “Believe me, Frederick, this feels different. Why would it pour on the very day that we decided to go hunting? Visibility suddenly became so poor we didn’t even manage to shoot that deer we saw darting through the underbrush.”

  Frederick shrugged.

  A particularly loud clap of thunder rent the air at that moment. Frederick saw the flinch that Rodin couldn’t quite suppress, but he didn’t draw attention to it. For all that Rodin was one of the best warriors in the kingdom -- if not the best -- he possessed some irrational fears. Not that they weren’t warranted. Frederick, better than anyone, knew the tragedy Rodin had suffered during a similar thunderstorm, and he wished with all his might there was something he could do to help his friend.

  They reached the end of the long stable. Turning left at the bend in the road, they caught their first glimpse of the lodge since leaving it this morning.

  The royal hunting lodge was situated in the heart of the great Repling Forest, which was located about twenty miles from the castle near the border of Mithirien. Aside from the natural forest animals, the king had stocked it with numerous varieties of deer, boar, fox, and such other animals that struck a hunter’s fancy. These animals were free to roam within the acre of land separated from the rest of the forest with high fences to protect unwary travellers as well as to preserve the natural ecology of the forest. The hunting lodge itself was a sturdy, three-story structure. The huge oak logs of which it was made lent it a quiet, rustic quality.

  They arrived at the lodge. Frederick was reaching for the knob when it was suddenly opened from inside.

  “Stepmother!”

  The present queen of Mithirien loved the comforts and entertainments of the castle. Frederick couldn’t believe she’d come voluntarily to the lodge, where the furnishings were simple and sparse. He remembered his father having to bribe her to come when the king had wanted to go hunting three years ago.

  Behind him, Rodin hastily bowed. “Your Majesty.”

  “Come on in, you silly boy.” The queen blinked against the mist that blew in her face. “What are you thinking, to be out in such weather?”

  “Is Father here?” Frederick hovered at the doorstep, wanting to be able to make a fast getaway, just in case. It would be just like his father to follow him here so he could continue harping on his favorite topic of the moment: marriage.

  “No. No, he’s not, so you can come in now.” She turned away from the door. “The rain’s making a mess of my hair.”

  Frederick stepped in and was greeted by the cheery sight of the fire crackling merrily. A young maidservant with red hair sat beside the woodpile, ostensibly to feed more wood should the fire show signs of dying down. He strode over to the grate and tried to unfreeze his limbs.

  The woman hastily stood up and bowed. “Your highness.”

  He waved her back to her seat. “With the rate this rain is going, we’re going to need all the firewood and then some,” he muttered.

  “Don’t worry about it, Your Highness,” the s
till-standing woman answered, her voice pert and chirpy. “My husband made sure all the woodpiles and log bins are full.”

  “Your husband?”

  “Neal, the woodcutter?”

  Her tone suggested Frederick might know him, but with the tons of people employed at the palace and the fact that he didn’t have interaction with most of them, he didn’t have a frigging clue who she was referring to.

  “He also sometimes tends the shrubs at the palace as well.” Pride for her husband was evident in her voice. “We were sent here to make the lodge habitable for Your Highness.”

  Frederick inclined his head. “You both have my thanks.”

  She flushed. “It’s our pleasure, Your Highness.”

  “Frederick, stop chatting with the help and go up to your room.” The queen urged him toward the stairs. “I’ll get the servants to bring up hot water for your bath. You must be chilled.”

  “Have the same done for Rodin and the rest.” Frederick had one foot on the lowest step of the stairs when he spied the short, rotund woman bustling into the room. He stopped and turned to stare at her. Something about her made him suspicious. What was it exactly? Upon closer examination, he decided it was the confidence and carriage she possessed, something not normally seen in the servant class. Who was she? Was she one of his stepmother’s retinue? How many did the queen bring, anyway? All thoughts of some quiet time for the coming days crept silently away. “Who are you?” He directed the question at her, his voice harsher than he intended.

  Surprise and hurt flickered across the kindly face as she stopped in the middle of the room. Her plump waist quivered.

  Frederick was instantly remorseful. A moment later, he wondered what he had to feel guilty about. He was the master here. He had a right to know about the people he was housing.

  “Why, Your Highness, two years gone and you don’t remember me?” She gasped theatrically, one hand flying to her bosom. After heaving a sigh, she walked toward him, one finger wagging at him, scolding. “Shame on you!”