A Legend Arises and Accomplished

by Brynn Paulin

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  A Legend Arises

  A Legend Accomplished

  ISBN #978-1-907280-01-6

  ©Copyright Brynn Paulin 2009

  Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright August 2009

  Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  A LEGEND ARISES

  Brynn Paulin

  Author Notice

  Dear Reader,

  Research shows that glass bottles were produced as early as 1500 BC when Syrian workers discovered glassblowing. This art spread quickly throughout the Roman empire, taking glass bottles into many homes. Most bottles were opaque, but soon fully transparent, colourless glass became available. This is the sort of handcrafted bottle that would be available to Ailig in 1200. However, the sort of durable bottle used in this story will not exists until the 17th century. Despite this, I have used creative license to further this story.

  ~Brynn Paulin

  Dedication

  To the Torrid Tartlets. I’m glad you’re my friends.

  Chapter One

  Legend has it that long, long ago, a great knight fell in love with a fair maiden. He took her to wife and together they lived in his great keep high on a hill overlooking the ocean…

  Northern England, 1263

  “Emma!” Ailig Bennett bellowed as he left his horse in the care of his squire and rushed into his keep. Behind him, the ocean crashed against the shore at the foot of the hills where his keep had been built. He cared little for it or the oncoming storm. He pulled off his leather gloves as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the great hall.

  Servants scurried around, lighting torches to break the oncoming darkness.

  “Emma,” he called again. He headed towards the doorway at the back of the wall which would lead to the stairs spiralling to the upper chambers housed in the north tower. The solar was there and no doubt Emma, as well, as she bent over her stitching. He smiled at the thought of pulling his new bride into his arms and unravelling her carefully braided hair.

  Would she welcome him with as much vigour as that which coursed through his veins? He’d left her behind on their wedding day, answering the urgent call of his king. On that day he’d hated his liege, but with King Henry’s contingent of messengers waiting, he had been unable to tarry.

  Today, finally, he would be one with his bride.

  Reaching the floor above the great hall, he strode towards his thinking chamber. Another set of stairs within it lead to the solar. “Emma,” he called more gently as he crested the top of the stairs.

  His bride stood in the large chamber, her back to him as she stared through an arrow slot at the waves below. His breath caught at the sight of her long brown braids cascading to her slim waist. He could not wait to give the bride gift he had purchased for her on his journey.

  She spun at the sound of his voice, a smile lighting her face.

  Perhaps he could wait to gift her. He would wait until after they’d united. His manhood stirred beneath his heavy knee-length mail, lengthening and thickening in his need for his wife. He had waited so long for her, more than the months this latest call to duty had required. Emma had long ago caught his eye. He had curried her favour in the ways he had learned in the king’s courts until her green eyes shone with the love he felt in his middle.

  “Ailig,” she exclaimed, dashing towards him. Her arms closed around his neck as he lifted her into his embrace. His mouth took hers as one hand lifted to bury in her hair, already pulling loose strands free. She tasted of honey and Emma. He groaned as his lips pushed hers apart and his tongue delved inside, scraping along hers as he reclaimed her sweet mouth. How he’d dreamed of the pleasure while he had been away, this one pleasure he had indulged before they were wed. This one pleasure he’d taken many times after they were wed, the last moments before the king’s messengers had dragged him away to his duty.

  Emma made a small sound and pressed into him, her arms tightening around his neck. Unlike many noble marriages, theirs was a love match. Indeed, Emma had not been a noble until he’d taken her to bride. She’d been the daughter of a merchant in the village a short distance from the keep. Though he was noble, it had taken some time to claim her. Emma had feared marrying a knight and losing him to battle. As if to feed that fear, the king had called him away immediately. It had ripped at Ailig’s gut to see the terror in her eyes.

  Today, he would show her he was safe and well and her fear was unjustified. He was one of the king’s best knights. He would always return.

  “You’ve had mead,” she laughed, when he pulled away to kiss his way along her jaw and down her neck. He nudged aside the fabric of her tunic and nipped the junction where her neck met her shoulder. Emma’s breath came in gasps and her head tilted slightly backward to give him better access. Her small hand cupped the back of his head, her fingers flexing into his hair as he aroused her.

  “Courage,” he told her.

  “You need no courage for me, husband.”

  “Mayhaps, I do.”

  “Nay. I am eager for you, love. I want you to make me your wife.” Leaning back in his arms, she stroked her thumbs along his cheekbones as she gazed into his eyes. Wonder filled her own eyes as she drew the pad of one finger over his bottom lip.

  “You have no fear?”

  She blushed, looking down. “I wish to be fully yours. Forgive me if that is unseemly.”

  Unseemly? Sweet Lord, she was everything a knight could dream of for his maiden wife. “Nay, love, I am pleased that you want me.”

  She met his eyes again, her innocence and curiosity wrapping around him. His brave love.

  “I am not afraid. The maids who attend me have told me of the…pleasures of having a man sheathed within. They say the pain is brief.”

  He felt her tremble as she spoke. Perhaps she wasn’t completely free of fear. Soon, she would learn. He would give her such decadent delight. They would lie abed for days, exploring each other.

  Slipping his arm beneath her legs, he lifted her into his arms and carried her towards the second set of stairs to the side of her solar which led the way to their bedchamber.

  “Ailig, how I’ve missed you.”

  “Is there no one else to bring you wildflowers?” he laughed.

  Her lips brushed his ear. “No one else to make me shiver inside.”

  “Sweet virgin mother,” he gasped.

  Emma smiled angelically at him.

  Holding her close so that he didn’t knock her head against the wall i
n the narrow stairway, he climbed to their bed chamber, shoving the thick door closed after he entered. He carried her to the heavy carved wood bed. She smiled up at him as he laid her in the centre of the mattress, the thick blankets and linens cradling her body.

  “Do not move,” he told her.

  “As you wish, my lord,” she replied. Still, she raised up on her elbows and watched him. He ripped off his mantle, surcoat and belt then tossed them aside before bending at the waist and letting his mail slink from his body and onto the floor. He pulled off his boots and returned to the bed, still wearing his thick tunic and hose. Even through those coverings, he knew his arousal was evident as it pushed forward, seeking its home.

  He knelt on the bed, crawling towards her, and she fell backwards, opening her arms to him. Carefully, Ailig lay along her side. His leg pushed between hers as he cradled her chin in his hand and kissed her again.

  His tongue swept inside her sweet mouth, tasting her treasures and promises. He released her chin to cup her head as he moved to lay halfway over her, and his fingers slid into her hair. Thankfully, she’d foregone the wimple she hated to wear, still he pulled back, his brow furrowed, as he encountered her intricate braids. He wanted to love her, but he wanted to feel her silky hair in his palms as he did. With a groan, he sat, pulling her with him and turning her to face away from him.

  “What—?” she started before he shushed her.

  “I want to see your hair. I have never had the pleasure.” Before they’d married, her mother had always forced her to wear head coverings, though he’d still seen Emma’s bound hair once or twice. And of course her hair had been covered at their wedding. He’d so looked forward to that night…

  He kissed her neck as he began to unravel the bottom of one plait. His lips travelled to her ear, tracing the sensitive lobe. “I’ve long awaited this intimacy between husband and wife,” he whispered.

  Emma looked over her shoulder at him, a blush tingeing her skin. She pushed back a chin-length strand of hair which brushed her cheek in the draughty chamber. Her teeth caught the inside of her bottom lip as she gazed at him with passion-darkened eyes still filled with the curiosity of innocence. “Hurry,” she urged. “I’ve seen my hair. I am eager to learn of other pleasures.”

  “You are a wanton maiden, are you not?”

  She grinned. “If it pleases you. Oh Ailig, I have missed your kisses and our time together.”

  As had he. He knew her well, as her parents had allowed many stolen moments in the months before their marriage—likely because of his status of overlord. He’d supped with her family on numerous occasions, as well. But he’d never taken any liberties that would jeopardise her reputation. His maiden wife was without stain.

  Within minutes, he had the lustrous strands freed to flow down her back and pool on the bed behind her. Burying his hands in the silken mass, he leaned forward and pressed his face to her sweet-smelling hair.

  Emma shivered as Ailig held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair as if it could sustain him. And maybe the memory of her unfettered hair would go with him when he travelled afar. It was thoughts of him which got her through the long days and nights alone in this draughty keep.

  Unfamiliar sensations darted through her, gripping her womb in a warm, tight grasp that filled with the fire that seemed to grow there. That same liquid fire afflicted her woman’s flesh and she burned for something she could not name. Her maid had told her she would be filled with the need for her husband. And in truth, she’d felt this before—when he’d kissed her and murmured his desire for her and how he couldn’t wait to make her completely his.

  She forced herself not to flinch when his hands wandered around her waist to cup her breasts. It wasn’t that his touch repelled her—it was unfamiliar. As he found her nipple through the layers of cloth, rubbing it and pulling at the sensitive flesh, she moaned and tipped her head back on his shoulder. Her fingers clenched on his thighs as he knelt behind her. Every instinct told her to lift her hands to his and stop the illicit taunting of his fingers, but she would not. This was his right and she wanted him to do this. She craved it and she wanted more. Unbelievable ribbons of delight wove through her. The sensations stole her breath and sent a flood of moisture between her thighs.

  What would he think when he touched her and found her so wet with her desire?

  Abandoning her breasts, he reached down and grasped her surcoat, tunic and chemise. His fingers fisted in the fabric as he drew all the layers upward. A knot formed in her throat as he bared her legs and she glanced away.

  “Beautiful,” Ailig murmured. Emma looked up, meeting his eyes and seeing the hot desire burning there. His gaze dipped, but she continued to watch his face as he continued to draw up her clothing. The cool air licked at her heated flesh as her garments raised to her waist, baring her naked pussy, as her maid had called it. A moment later, he had her tunics and chemise over her head and tossed to the floor. Gently, he guided her to rest against their pillows.

  She fought the self-conscious urge to cover herself as he sat beside her and looked down at her. Her arms lay at her sides, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she fought her nerves. Despite her agitation, her body continued to respond to Ailig, flooding her with heat and drawing her exposed breasts tight.

  He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, carefully unfolding her fingers. “What’s this?”

  She tried to smile. “I find I’m not as brave as I’d thought. It’s not that I don’t want you—”

  Her words cut off as he drew a finger along her belly and the flesh quaked beneath his touch. “I know, love,” he told her. “Do not fret. I will care for you.”

  She nodded, more afraid of her reactions than anything else. She’d been taught to be reserved, something she often lost when she was with Ailig. But she wanted to be a good wife to him with decorum and the stateliness her parents had driven into her.

  “How will you care for me?” she finally asked as he pulled off her hose and slippers, tossing them aside, as well.

  He grinned, removing his own tunic and hose. She loved his boyish grin and it was perhaps what she’d missed most when he was away. Whenever his eyes twinkled and his lips twisted upwards with their roguish secrets, she knew something enjoyable was on the way. She barely knew how to think as she took in his nakedness. His wide chest had a sprinkling of dark curling hair which diminished to a thin line then disappeared until below his navel where it started again. His thickly muscled arms flexed as they rested on his thighs, framing the ridges of muscle in his abdomen. Finally, her gaze followed the thin line of hair there as it widened and cradled his manhood.

  She stared at his erect rod, her eyes wide. She itched to reach out and investigate its firm lines, trace the thick veins up the shaft and run her thumb over the wide head crowning it. Swallowing, she contemplated its length and girth and exactly what he was supposed to do with it.

  “How?” she asked again.

  He drew his hand over the length of his cock. “I’m going to make you tremble.”

  “I am already trembling. My insides are rattling like a stampede of horses.”

  “You will moan and shudder and cry out beneath me as pleasure overwhelms you.” He smiled as if he knew the battle that waged inside her—the fight for reserve while her insides screamed to be released to the wanton pleasure overtaking her. His fingers stroked along the inside of her thigh while her woman’s flesh quivered, yet he never touched it. “You look surprised. You did not think you would lay there while you ‘endured’ your husband?”

  “It is what my mother warned me to expect.”

  “And your maids?”

  Her cheeks flamed. “They spoke of things I cannot mention.”

  He leaned forward, his warm body pressed to hers. Sensation seemed to explode wherever their skin touched. His lips brushed hers. “There are no secrets between a husband and his wife,” he said against her mouth. “Not in their bed.”

  Kisses feather
ed along her jaw, down her neck and over her shoulder to the rise of her breast. Emma stopped breathing as his mouth travelled closer to the peak where her nipple had knotted into a hard little nub. Ailig traced the edge of the tanned flesh with flicks of his tongue until, finally, his mouth engulfed the crest. Instinctively, she arched up into him while her hands buried in his thick, black hair.

  Dormant reactions took life within her, filling her with feelings she’d never before experienced. Tiny explosions rocked through her middle, shooting from her breast to her womb in ever-strengthening succession.

  “Ailig,” she moaned. “I—”

  Her ability to speak deserted her as he cupped her other breast, working the nipple with his fingers in the same way he worked the other with his mouth and tongue. She pressed her legs together as he tugged on her pliant flesh and moisture began to leak to her thighs. Her eyes squeezed shut as she realised she was unable to control her reactions and prayed heartily that he’d find her pleasing.

  He lifted his mouth and blew on the tormented peak.

  “More,” she whispered.

  “Much more.”

  Ailig took the peak again while his hand travelled down her belly to her mound. She tensed as he brushed over her curls. One long finger worked between her clenched thighs and into the cleft no one else had ever touched. Immediately, spasms soared through her and she gasped, a small cry erupting from her lips. That single finger worked along her folds, sliding through the moisture there.

  “Oh, love,” he murmured. “You are so wet. So perfect. Part your lovely legs for me so that I might touch more of you.”

  She bit her lip and inched her legs apart. Aileg instantly worked his knee between hers, opening her further for his touch. Kneeling between her thighs, he pushed them wide and stared down at her woman’s flesh. Gently, he spread her folds.