Faithful Heart (The Von Wolfenberg Dynasty Book 3)

by Anna Markland

  She simply nodded as he bit into a meatball, her mind still on offering to lick his sticky fingers.

  “Spicier than at home,” he said. “But good.”

  His remark troubled her. “I was hoping you would consider Venezia as your home now.”

  He looked into her eyes. “My home is wherever you are, Zara. I have no land or title waiting for me in Saxony, but I hope one day we will travel there together. I want to take you to my homeland and show you off to my family.”

  She leaned forward to kiss his lips, to the delight of the guests whose lusty cheers only served to make the heat rise in her face again. “I would love to visit Saxony with you. Too bad we can’t go by sea!”

  He chuckled and bit into a small sausage.

  “There’s a lot more food to come,” she warned. “Roasted partridge, capons, ham, pigeons, wild boar. And that’s only today’s fare.”

  He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, his eyes dark. “Aboard the Feloz, I feared I might never taste good food again.”

  She couldn’t meet his anguished gaze. “Forgive me.”

  He tucked his finger under her chin and raised her face to look at him. “There is nothing to forgive. I would gladly sacrifice myself again for your happiness.” His frown turned to a broad grin. “And to that end I will force myself to eat whatever is put in front of me this day. I need my strength for the strenuous night ahead.”

  She couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud, drawing the curious eye of many in the hall.

  MISCHIEF AFOOT

  The feasting and drinking carried on for hours. Kon had no trouble keeping pace with the food, but only sipped the rich Tuscan wine imbibed by many in startling quantities.

  Several of the male guests stood, one after another, and led suggestive chants that became more lewd as the afternoon turned into evening. When everyone else had echoed their verse to their satisfaction, they sat and were rewarded with raucous laughter and applause.

  “Reminds me of the reigen Lute is fond of,” he told Zara.

  “A Saxon tradition?”

  “A chain dance with a leader who chants a verse the dancers echo. My brother’s reigen at weddings tended to get more bawdy as time went on, though excessive drink wasn’t the reason. He just likes to have fun.”

  She put a hand on his knee. “You miss your family.”

  He covered her hand with his own. “I wish they were here to share in my happiness, but my brothers would be plotting mischief, at our expense.”

  Her eyes widened. “Such as?”

  He chuckled at the memories. “When my sister got married, Lute and I let live rabbits loose in the bridal chamber.”

  “Rabbits! I’ll wager her husband wasn’t happy.”

  “No, and trust me it was no easy task corralling those timid creatures in order to release them into the chamber at the right moment. However, Brandt got his revenge on Lute.”

  “I am afraid to ask.”

  “He tied cowbells underneath the bed when my brother married Francesca.”

  Giddy with laughter, she looked around the hall. “Merry as these guests are, I don’t foresee any of them playing those kinds of pranks.” She rolled her eyes. “They would be considered most inappropriate in the Palazzo Ducale.”

  He kissed her hand. “You sense I miss their mischief-making. I love you for it.”

  She blushed as he gazed into her emerald eyes. “It’s time you gave me my gift,” she said in the sultriest voice he had ever heard.

  “I’ve had it ready for a while,” he teased. “What’s the protocol for leaving?”

  She came to her feet. “Don’t worry. They won’t notice we are gone.”

  He stood and took her by the hand. “And where are we going?”

  She grinned. “To the ducal bridal chamber of course.”

  ~~~

  Their exit didn’t go unnoticed. They were almost through the doors when Ottavia came running across the hall, shrieking for them to wait. An icy shiver marched across Zara’s nape. Astonished at this uncharacteristic behavior, she paused to inform her sister in no uncertain terms she didn’t want or require her company. The words died in her throat when she realized Ottavia had Bruno in tow.

  Kon’s grip on her hand tightened. “Stay calm,” he advised, though she sensed a slight impatience in his tone.

  She settled a false grin on her face. “I have prayed one day Ottavia would acknowledge she has a brother, but does it have to be today?”

  Bruno outpaced his younger sister and launched himself at Kon and Zara, nigh on knocking them off balance. “Come too,” he shouted.

  Panting, Ottavia caught up. Zara couldn’t recall ever seeing her sister blush, but there was no mistaking the red flush that crept up her neck and spread across her barely covered breasts when Jakov appeared at her side.

  “Surely you’re not leaving without saying goodnight?” the Croat teased.

  Ottavia giggled.

  Giggled!

  Kon clenched his jaw and glared at his friend. “I was about to give my bride her long-awaited gift,” he growled.

  Ottavia linked her arm with Kon. “We’ll see you safely to the chamber, won’t we, Count Jakov?”

  “Indeed we will,” he echoed with a wink, taking Zara by the arm.

  “Me, me,” Bruno insisted.

  Zara recognised it would pointless to argue. “Looks like I was wrong,” she whispered to Kon. “Mayhap there is some mischief afoot.”

  ~~~

  Kon couldn’t deny he was irritated by the unexpected trio tagging along, but it was of some consolation that he was no longer the impatient man he used to be.

  The delay added to the anticipation.

  When they entered the bridal chamber, he didn’t pay much attention to the details of the incredibly ornate ostentation of the decor. It was like squinting into bright sunshine. It took him a moment to realize the Doge, or mayhap his duchess, had evidently provided a bevy of maidservants for Zara. He tasted his disappointment. “I wanted to remove your gown,” he whispered.

  She gave him a woeful look in return, but was whisked away behind a screen by her giggling sister and the excited maids before she had the chance to reply or protest.

  Jakov took him by the arm. “I’m afraid the groom will have to make do with me and Bruno.”

  There was a suspicious glint in his friend’s eye, but Kon admitted inwardly Jakov had become like a brother to him, and Bruno was in fact his brother-by-marriage. They were a welcome substitute for his family.

  They led him into a small alcove behind another folding screen.

  “Get on with it,” Jakov urged.

  Evidently, he wasn’t going to enjoy being undressed by Zara this night. The pleasure would have to wait for another day.

  He obediently peeled his tunic over his head and handed it to Jakov. “Satisfied?”

  “Shirt, boots and leggings.”

  He hopped around, removing his boots, took off his shirt, then carefully eased the leggings over his arousal.

  Jakov’s reaction was predictable. “I see Zara is going to be pleased with her gift.”

  Titters and sounds of movement from the other side of the screen indicated his bride was being tucked into bed. The women exited the chamber in a flurry of rustling skirts and excited whispers and suddenly all was silent.

  His head full of the notion of his bride awaiting him, Kon impatiently looked around the alcove for a bed-robe. Finding none he turned to his friend. Jakov was no longer grinning. Bruno had shoved down his leggings and was pointing to his flaccid manhood. “Small,” he said with a shrug.

  How to explain what was going on to this innocent young man? Thankfully, Jakov thrust Kon’s shirt into his hands and he quickly covered his private parts with the garment.

  “Sorry, Bruno,” the Croat explained, hurrying to help the frowning lad cover himself. “Only Kon is getting undressed. For Zara.”

  Kon stood like an idiot with his shirt clutched to his manhood while Bruno
stared, but he saw the moment understanding dawned in the young man’s eyes. He contorted his face into what might have been a wink, then rushed out from behind the screen, accidentally brushing against it. It toppled over with a loud clatter.

  Bruno ran to the bed, kissed his gaping sister who was halfway out of bed, and made for the door. He paused in the open doorway, impatiently beckoning Jakov.

  The Croat executed a bow worthy of a count. “That, I believe, is my signal to depart.”

  Chuckling loudly, the mischief makers exited arm in arm, leaving Kon standing naked with the shirt still clutched to his body. Zara stood beside the bed, raking her eyes over him.

  He drank in the vision. Long, black tresses flowed over bare shoulders; the flickering flame of the candle on the night stand illuminated every curve of her nakedness beneath the flimsy nightgown; the startled expression of her blush revealed uncertainty, surprise, longing.

  The impatient, hungry Kon rose up in his breast. He tossed the shirt over his shoulder, spread his arms wide and proudly displayed his body.

  A BEDDING

  Zara recognized the hunger in Kon’s eyes, but wasn’t afraid. The naked male beast stalking her was magnificent, a bronzed god who had vanquished the powers of hell that had tried to destroy him.

  He hadn’t come through his ordeal unscathed. His beautiful body would long bear the scars inflicted on him by the slaver; but his once-troubled soul was at peace. She would never meet a man who cared more deeply for the feelings of others. Her body and her soul were safe in his hands and she was more than ready to surrender to him.

  The notion sent desire spiralling up her thighs and into her womb as they stood facing each other, noses almost touching. He pulled loose the ribboned shoulder ties holding her nightgown in place, but never took his eyes off her face as the silk slipped silently to the carpet.

  After many years of trying to disguise her female attributes, she now had an urge to strut around the chamber, hips swaying, back arched. She stepped out of the garment, intending to put her arms around his neck and melt into him. “Make me a woman,” she whispered.

  He put his warm hands on her arms and held her away. “You are already a woman. Tonight you’ll become my woman, but let me look at you first.”

  Breathing steadily, he let his eyes wander over her breasts, down her belly to her mons as if he was studying an exquisite work of art.

  Her racing heart nigh on stopped beating when he growled and fell to his knees, pushing her back gently onto the bed. His arms were suddenly gripping her thighs, his mouth on her most intimate place, lapping, sucking, driving her wild with need of him. She pressed her fingertips into his shoulders, her rapture heightened by his gentle strength. She moaned when his tongue found the place connected to every fibre of her being. “Yes, yes,” she growled in a husky voice she didn’t recognize as he licked and licked and licked.

  The intensity of the indescribable feelings was too overwhelming. She needed him to stop, but her heart would shatter if he did.

  Her nipples pouted to be touched, her toes twitched, the soles of her feet warmed. She was climbing, climbing, climbing, barely able to breathe. She reached the top of the mountain, held safe in his arms when she fell into a golden abyss of bliss.

  Her mouth was too dry to tell him she needed him inside her, but he understood. His manhood carried her to mindless ecstasy. He thrust slowly at first, then faster and more deeply as she urged him on, matching the pace he set.

  She’d been forewarned to expect pain, but there was none, only the supreme joy of at last being one with the man she’d craved since the first moment she set eyes on him.

  She’d always considered men were brutish, unrefined creatures. She relished every bead of sweat on Kon’s back, every grunt, every flex of his muscles, every pulse of his manhood deep inside as he pumped his essence into her happy womb.

  Self-control had long been her watchword, her mantra. Now she babbled her euphoria, uttering words she didn’t know she knew. He shouted something in German before collapsing on top of her, gasping for breath. She hugged him tightly for long minutes, her sheath still pulsing even after he slowly slipped from her body.

  “You’ll have to teach me your language,” she murmured, twirling a finger in his hair.

  When he raised up on his elbows she was humbled by the love in his eyes as he gazed into hers. “Gott sei dank,” he replied with a sleepy smile, “it means Thanks be to God.”

  ~~~

  Recalling Zara’s taste, her breast in his hand, her aroma—these memories had kept Kon’s spirit alive in the darkest of days.

  Dreams of lying abed with her had filled his nights ever since their meeting.

  None of his reveries came close to the ecstasy of being one with the woman he adored.

  He gazed into her eyes, humbled by the love shining in the emerald depths.

  The candles eventually guttered out as they cuddled together. He listened to her breathing, played with her hair, nibbled her ear.

  “I can hear your heart beating,” she whispered.

  “It beats for you,” he replied, his male urges already stirring again.

  As if sensing his need, she pressed her breasts against his chest and gently cupped his sac. “I want you,” she said softly.

  Kon had never allowed himself to dream he might one day marry a woman of passion, a wife who would bring him the fulfilling intimacy his liberal-minded parents boasted of sharing. In the army he’d known many men who complained of their wives’ reluctance in the bedchamber.

  Zara was in his blood, but it elated him that he was also in hers. He lifted one breast to his lips and suckled, hard.

  She moaned in response. It was the beginning of a long and beautiful night of sexual gratification.

  ~~~

  Four servants bearing trays of food tiptoed discreetly into the chamber. Zara had lain awake since dawn, listening to Kon snore softly, his warm breath tickling her back.

  She sat up and pulled the linens to her neck while the smiling maids set out the food on the elegant table in one corner. Could they tell she’d been transformed overnight from a virgin who knew nothing of congress with a man to a wanton who needed her husband’s manhood inside her again and again and again?

  Kon stirred and stretched. She covered his naked chest lest she be tempted to kiss his nipples and sift her fingers through the soft hair while servants looked on.

  “Good morning, Signora von Wolfenberg,” one of the maids crooned. “If you and your husband…”

  She glared at the other three when they giggled.

  “…If you would like to break your fast, we will refresh the linens.”

  Yawning, his hair tussled, Kon propped himself up on his elbows. “I suppose some wedding rituals are the same in every land,” he said with a wry smile.

  She wasn’t sure what he meant, but her immediate concern was their nudity. Her nightgown lay wherever it had fallen and Kon couldn’t very well get out of bed with a shirt clutched to his private parts.

  She hadn’t noticed a fifth maid standing by the door, arms laden with bed-robes. The girl bustled forward at a signal from the senior maid and shyly handed a bed-robe first to her and then one to Kon.

  He helped her slip her arms into the garment, hopped out of bed, apparently not as concerned with his nakedness in front of the maids as she had been, and shrugged on his bed-robe.

  He came around the bed, kissed her sweetly and offered his hand.

  “What did you mean by wedding rituals?” she said softly as she got out of bed.

  He winked and lifted the linens to reveal the proof of her lost virginity. “In Saxony, this sheet would be up the flagpole by now.”

  Mortified, she covered the telling stain. “We can’t let them see it.”

  He squeezed her hand. “We don’t want there to be any doubt you were indeed a virgin bride, do we?”

  She leaned against him as desire heated her body. “No,” she conceded.

 
“Besides,” he said with a wink, “these young women will be mightily disappointed if we deny them their appointed task.”

  GETTING TO KNOW YOU

  Kon escorted his bride to the table laden with food and moved his chair until they were side by side.

  Eyeing the busy servants, she reached for a chunk of bread, but he stayed her hand. “It will be my great pleasure to feed you,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Not in front of the maids,” she whispered.

  He feigned a pout. “Zara, you need no longer be afraid to be your true self. You’re a beautiful woman. Indulge me.”

  She capitulated with a nervous smile. “I’ve played the role of the head of household for too long.”

  He grinned. “You have me now.”

  After she’d taken a bite of the bread and ham from his fingers, he wished the maids would finish and leave.

  She clenched her hands together. “They’re too slow.”

  Their eyes met and they smiled like two conspirators.

  “I suppose we can’t lie abed the whole day,” he conceded when it seemed the maids were dilly-dallying.

  “Why not? That’s the point of three days of feasting. The guests enjoy themselves, all the while happily aware the bride and groom are busy getting started on the next generation.”

  She’d spoken in jest, but he decided it was time to shoo out the servants. As soon as he got to his feet, they gathered up the soiled linens and scurried out.

  He unfastened the belt of his robe and threw it on the chair. “I suppose they sensed my impatience.”

  She stared at his arousal. “I still can’t believe your whole length fits inside me.”

  He looked down at his rute, arched a brow and offered his hand. “We evidently need another demonstration.”

  ~~~

  Zara had never in her life stayed in bed for a whole day, but she relished every moment of the days and nights she and Kon spent getting to know each other better.

  She lay face down on the bed, drooling as he trailed his fingertips along her spine, over and over. She shivered with anticipation when he changed to massaging her thighs, his thumbs parting her cheeks to open her woman’s place to his gaze. She squealed with delight when he raised her hips and impaled her sheath from behind, squeezing her nipples as he thrust and thrust, uttering endearments in his own language she knew in her joyful heart he would never whisper to anyone else.