Tournament of Hearts

by Alyssa Stark

  Until now. Knowing that Isobel was here was the only thing that had brought him back.

  “I have not told her, sweetheart,” Eleanor said as tears welled in her eyes. “Isobel came as such a surprise. I was not sure if she knew and it is your place to tell her.”

  “I’ve not told her everything,” Tristan revealed. “She knows.”

  “She’s lovely, Tristan,” Eleanor whispered. Already, she had fallen in love with her newest daughter in law.

  Tristan hugged his mother to his chest and Eleanor fitted her arms around him, not minding the blood and dirt that stained his clothes. The tears that Eleanor cried now were tears of joy. She had never expected Tristan to come home.

  “Where is she?” he asked as he rested his chin atop his mother’s head.

  “In the chamber at the end of the south hallway. I thought that would be better.”

  Tristan sighed with relief. He would not have to face all of his demons tonight. He said a silent prayer for his mother’s forethought, knowing that he could not have entered his chambers even if Isobel was awaiting him inside.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “Let me boil some water and you can wash before you join her. I’ll fetch you some clean clothes from your brother.”

  Tristan hugged his mother tightly and released her, feeling a sense of comfort wash over him. He would allow her the pleasure of caring for him, partly because he was exhausted, but mostly because he knew that caring for him was what Eleanor longed to do. He had always been her little boy, and no matter how large and independent of a man he had grown into, his mother had always safeguarded her little boy’s heart.

  ..ooOoo..

  The chamber was pitch black. Tristan’s eyes struggled to focus in the darkness as he forced the deadbolt into place behind him.

  He needed Isobel so badly. He needed to feel the comfort and security of her arms to know that she was safe.

  He padded across the flagstone floor in the dark, pulling the fresh linen shirt up over his head and tossing it on the floor. He stepped out of the kilt that his brother Deacon had loaned him and was now completely naked. He stretched out his hands and felt for the bed, knowing that it had to be close by.

  “Christ!” he cursed as his big toe struck the post of the bed. He hopped on one foot and nursed his injury, stifling his curses so as not to wake Isobel. He set his foot back onto the floor and noticed that her steady, rhythmic breathing had not changed. He smiled in the darkness. His wife slept like a log.

  Finding the edge of the bed, he slipped beneath the furs, relishing the warmth of the bed and the cleanliness of his skin. His hand traveled across the goose down mattress until he touched Isobel’s back. He was pleased to find that she slept naked, just as he had instructed her to do.

  He fitted his body against hers now, his front to her back. She felt like heaven, so soft and feminine pressed against the length of his body. Tristan ached to be inside of her.

  He nuzzled her neck and drank in the sweet fragrance wafting from her silky blonde curls. Oh how he had missed his wife!

  “Wake up, love,” he whispered into her ear as he nibbled playfully at her earlobe.

  Isobel pressed against him in response, rocking her hips gently back against him, showing her instinctual response to his body even as she slept.

  Tristan chuckled and pulled his wife more tightly against his chest. His palm cupped her breast and his thumb grazed over her erect nipple.

  Isobel moaned softly and moved her bottom against him again, cradling his growing erection in the cleft of her buttocks.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead. Welcome your husband home properly,” he said huskily as he kissed the hollow behind Isobel’s ear. “Bella, love. I’m home.”

  Isobel’s eyes flew open.

  “Tristan?” she asked in disbelief. Had she been dreaming or was he really here?

  “Aye, love,” he purred as he trailed kisses down her neck. Isobel spun in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. He winced as her arm bumped the battle gash on his shoulder.

  “Praise God! You’re really here….you’re safe! I was so worried…”

  Tristan silenced her concerns with a lengthy kiss.

  “It was you that I was worried about,” he confessed as he stroked her face in the darkness. “I thought of you every waking moment, wondering if you had made it to Dunhaven safely and what in the hell my mother thought when you arrived,” he said laughing softly.

  “She recovered nicely from the initial shock,” Isobel said as she trailed her fingers over the stubble that dusted Tristan’s jaw line. She needed to touch him in order to know that he had really returned to her safely. His skin was warm and smelled of fresh soap. Isobel smiled when she realized that he had bathed before coming to her. “She loves you very much, you know.”

  “Aye, I know.”

  Tristan gathered Isobel against his chest. He closed his eyes and drank in her sweet, comforting scent as he nuzzled his nose into her blonde curls and kissed the curve of her neck. She moaned softly as his lips brushed over her skin, causing Tristan’s cock to pulse with anticipation.

  “I need you, love,” he whispered huskily as he claimed her lips possessively. Isobel kissed him lustfully, opening her mouth to welcome his needy tongue. Her mouth was hot and sweet. Tristan’s lips surged gently over hers, tasting her sweetness and savoring the desire of her kiss.

  Breathing heavily, he broke away from her mouth. Without speaking, he spun Isobel away from himself, positioning her as she had been when he found her sleeping only moments earlier. He wanted to take her from behind. He wanted to cup her sweet breasts as he drove into her.

  Isobel moaned softly as Tristan slid and arm underneath her neck. He cupped her full breast in his palm and teased her sensitive nipple with the pad of his thumb. Pleasure zipped down Isobel’s spine and she pressed her bottom against Tristan’s erection, showing him that she wanted him.

  Tristan growled against her neck and nipped at her shoulder.

  “Have you missed me love?”

  “More that you could imagine,” Isobel said, her voice raspy with passion. She pressed back against his erection languidly, cupping his length between her buttocks.

  “I think that I can imagine quite well how much you missed me,” he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. “And I endeavor to show you just how much I missed you, Wife,” he said as he trailed his tongue teasingly down Isobel’s neck.

  “Show me,” she invited as she pushed her bottom against his erection.

  Tristan chuckled. “Eager are we?”

  “Most eager, Husband,” Isobel said enticingly as she reached an arm over her shoulder and ran her fingers through her husband’s clean unbound hair. She knotted her fist in the unruly masses and tugged his head towards hers slightly.

  Tristan growled approvingly. It pleased him greatly to see that his wife had missed him and that the needs of her body matched his own.

  Trailing his fingers lightly over her breast, he circled her nipple languidly, and then continued lower. His fingers cascaded over the gently curve of her waist and over her subtle hips. He smiled arrogantly when he felt Isobel begin to move against him. Her hips rocked back ever so softly, mimicking the act of lovemaking. He began to follow her rhythm, thrusting gently against her bottom in time with her hips.

  Allowing his fingers to travel lower, they danced lightly over the smooth skin of Isobel’s thigh. Circling her delicate knee, his palm came to rest. He pulled her knee up so that her legs were open.

  Isobel was lost now to his kisses against her hot skin. She moaned softly and continued to thrust gently against him, causing his cock to buck against her backside. Tristan slid his fingers up her lithe thigh and cupped the heat of her womanhood. Isobel shuddered as he held her, cupping her gently with his hand.

  He parted her folds with his fingers and growled low in his throat when he discovered her wetness. His wife was more than ready for him and he ached to be inside of h
er.

  Isobel cried out loudly when his expert fingers stroked her wetness. He found the bead of her desire and played her gently, coaxing her to move against his hand. His other hand cupped her breast firmly and he pulled her closer against his chest, supporting her as she came undone beneath his fingers.

  “Does that feel good, love?” he whispered into her hair.

  Isobel writhed against him, moaning softly.

  “Aye,” she said breathlessly as she moved against her husband.

  “Do you want more?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered. Isobel felt warmth spreading throughout her body as Tristan’s fingers brushed over her most intimate flesh. His touch was all consuming. Too much and yet she wanted more.

  “Tell me what you want, love,” he coaxed and he stroked her clitoris more firmly, pushing her close to the edge.

  Isobel shuddered. She was so consumed by her pleasure that she found formulating coherent thoughts difficult. Words were just beyond her grasp.

  She pressed back against Tristan, delighting in the feeling of his hard erection thrusting gently against her bottom. She spread her knees wider, inviting him to give her more, inviting him to touch her more.

  “What do you want love?” he purred against her neck. He placed hot kisses on her collarbone as he continued to play her with his fingers and thrust against her from behind.

  “I want you inside of me,” Isobel said breathlessly.

  Granting her request, Tristan slid his finger inside of Isobel’s tight sheath. His cock pulsed in response. He wanted desperately to enter her, to spill his seed deep within her womb, but Isobel’s pleasure would come first. He intended to drive her mad with pleasure before he entered her.

  His finger thrust in and out of her, mimicking the act of love. Isobel arched against him and cried out with pleasure. She knotted her hand in Tristan’s hair and grinded against him, being utterly consumed with the sensation of his finger moving within her.

  Unable to take anymore of her sweet torment, Tristan withdrew his finger from her sheath. Taking his rigid cock in his hand, he thrust into Isobel from behind, filling her completely as he sank deep inside of her.

  Isobel cried out as he entered her.

  Pleasure exploded within Isobel and she moaned loudly as Tristan’s cock stretched her to the limit. The sensation of fullness was overwhelming, just beyond the brink of pain and yet so utterly pleasurable.

  Tristan grabbed Isobel’s hips and withdrew himself from her tight sheath, growling with pleasure as he drove into her again. He taught her the rhythm of their lovemaking by guiding her hips, showing her how to move against him so that they might both maximize their pleasure.

  Isobel’s hands were everywhere. She grasped madly at the sheets, fisting them in her hands as the frantic nature of their lovemaking overtook her. She felt a delicious warming throughout her body as her husband thrust into her again and again. She felt her climax beginning to build.

  Feeling her sheath tighten around his cock, Tristan slid his fingers between Isobel’s thighs. He found her clitoris immediately and stroked it, flicking it expertly with the pad of his finger as he pumped into Isobel. He fought against his own release so that he might pleasure her completely first. Withdrawing the length of his cock and then plunging into her, he felt the first wave of her orgasm let loose.

  “Tristan!” Isobel screamed as she surrendered to the throes of her orgasm. Pleasure overtook her body and she came undone around her husband, her body trembling with the power of her release. Her arm reached back and she squeezed Tristan’s shoulder as her orgasm racked her body, rendering her completely satiated.

  Tristan groaned and removed her hand, wincing as the pain reverberated through his body. Interlacing his fingers with Isobel’s, he drove into her once more and then spilled his seed deep inside of her. His body shuddered with the power of his release.

  Tristan rested his cheek against Isobel’s. His breathing was ragged. Allowing both of their bodies a moment to recover, he remained inside of his wife, enjoying the feeling of her surrounding him. He kissed her eyelid and then nipped playfully at her neck.

  “Lord how I missed ye, Wife,” he whispered as he brushed his lips over Isobel’s.

  Isobel smiled against his mouth. She was so happy to welcome her husband home.

  “You’re hurt, love,” Isobel said, her voice ringing with concern. She spun in Tristan’s arms and when she saw the gash on his shoulder, she gasped and brought her hand reflexively to cover her mouth. In the throes of her passion, she had just squeezed Tristan’s shoulder, right where the wound was. The pain that she had rendered him must have been agonizing.

  “I’m so sorry, I had no idea-

  “It’s little more than a scratch, love. Quit fashing over it and come here,” he said as he gathered Isobel against his chest.

  “That is much more than a scratch, Tristan!” Isobel bristled. “As soon as I’ve finished welcoming you home, I intend to clean it thoroughly, whether it pleases you or not. It is my business to fash over you, Husband,” Isobel said as she snuggled against Tristan’s chest.

  “If it pleases you to do so, then fash away. I’d let you do about anything to me right now,” Tristan said as he smiled contently into Isobel’s hair. Bathing in the afterglow of making love to his wife was all he wanted to do at present. And then he might just make love to Isobel again before he allowed her to fuss over the wound. Truth be told, he liked that Isobel was fussing over him, no matter that her fussing was unnecessary. Her concern showed how deeply she cared for him.

  Isobel rested her chin on Tristan’s chest and admired her brave warrior. She trailed her fingers over his pectoral muscles as she took stock of his wound. She flattened her cheek against his chest and delighted in the steady thumping of her husband’s heart.

  “Do ye hear that?” Tristan whispered as he threaded his fingers languidly through Isobel’s hair.

  “Hear what?” Isobel asked as she rose up to look at Tristan.

  “The beating of my heart,” he said softly. “It beats for you, a run mo chroi.”

  Isobel smiled and rested her ear back against Tristan’s chest. She closed her eyes and relished the beating of her lover’s heart.

  “I do not believe that it beats just for me,” Isobel said as the corner of her mouth turned up into a content smile.

  “Aye, lass. It does!,” Tristan refuted. “You’ve had it in your care since the moment you first walked into my shop,” he said sincerely.

  Isobel smiled softly as she rose up and admired her husband. Her hair cascaded over his chest and she placed her palm lovingly over his heart.

  “Then I shall endeavor to care for your heart until the last breath leaves my body. I love you, blacksmith” Isobel whispered as she lowered her lips and kissed the skin atop Tristan’s rapidly beating heart.

  Tristan closed his eyes and shuddered. Isobel’s word overwhelmed his senses and filled his soul.

  “I love you too, mo sonuachar,” he whispered as he drew Isobel in for a tender kiss. Tristan kissed his wife with unabashed joy, for they had both won.

  Victory was sweet.

  There had been two winners in the tournament of hearts.

  ..oo Epilogue oo..

  “Where is my wife?” Tristan thundered as he burst into the great hall.

  Hearing his booming voice, Eleanor ran down the stone steps towards her son. She could see immediately the worry ingrained on her son’s handsome face.

  “She is well, sweetheart,” Eleanor assured as she took her son’s arm and began leading him up the steps towards Isobel’s chamber. “Her pains began this morning after you left. Fear not, everything is progressing just as it should. She’s fighting through her contractions and…”

  “Has she asked for me?” Tristan asked abruptly, cutting off his mother’s words. He took the steps two at a time, causing her to run up the stairs to keep up with him.

  “She has asked for you non-stop,” Eleanor said, smiling when she
saw that this fact pleased her son. “It should not be much longer, her waters have broken and usually that means that the babe is well on its way. You should be able to see her soon.”

  Tristan shook his head. Isobel’s blood-curdling scream from inside the chamber iced the blood in his veins. Child birth was no small matter and hearing Isobel’s scream had nearly stopped his heart.

  “I will see her now!” he commanded as he stalked towards the chamber door and pulled it open.

  “Tristan! This is woman’s work…it would be most improper for you…” Eleanor stammered as she chased after her son.

  The midwife attending Isobel gasped when she saw Tristan enter the chamber. One of the attending maids dropped a basin of water, which clattered noisily against the flagstone floor, sending water splashing across the room. Eleanor froze in the doorway, knowing that her words would be futile against keeping Tristan away from his wife.

  “Tristan!” Isobel screamed, her face beaming with joy as she looked upon her husband. “I’m so glad that you’re here!” she said as she reached out her hand towards her husband.

  He was at her side in an instant, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles.

  “Are you well, love?” he asked as he squeezed her hand gently and reached up to brush her blonde curls away from her face. She lay against the massive headboard, supported by a mountain of pillows. Tristan’s heart constricted in his chest as he looked upon her. Never had his wife looked more beautiful than she did at this moment.

  “You must go, milord,” The midwife said nervously. “This is no place for a man, and I must insist…”

  “No!” Isobel said defiantly as she squeezed her husband’s hand. She felt the first wave of a contraction clenching her belly and she wanted nothing more than to have Tristan, her rock and protector by her side to help her through the pains of her labor.

  “Hush, love. I’m here,” Tristan soothed as he squeezed Isobel’s hand and rested his hand on her forehead. “That’s my brave, girl,” he coaxed as he watched Isobel fight the pain of her contraction.