World of de Wolfe Pack: Her Haunted Knight (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Stella Marie Alden

None of that really mattered for Rose’s beauty came from within. It was how she smiled as if he were the sun and the moon. By God, he’d spend his whole life making sure that look never left her face

  At the altar, the priest put their hands together and said some words in Latin but Hugh’s heart had been bound to her since the day they’d first met. Then the priest wrapped their hands with three colored ribbons and Rose’s bright smile lit the room.

  “Aye, I do.” She gazed at him with such adoration that Hugh sinned, undressing her in his mind in church.

  He would never let her go, nor stray, nor cause her any pain.

  She is my everything.

  “I do.”

  Thank God, the mass was short for he needed to take her. Apparently, the town agreed for after an hour of drinking, they put him in a throne and carried him up the stairs, singing the bawdiest of songs.

  In the candlelit chambers, Rose waited, covered to her neck in blankets. She giggled when his men pushed him into the room, slammed the door, and shouted in union. “Do it well, m’lord.”

  “God’s blood! Finally.” Hugh unbuckled his sword, lay it by the bed, and the rest he was wearing came off in an instant.

  Then he slid in next to her naked body, cupped the back of her head, and kissed those soft willing lips. “My fondest greetings to you, Lady le Despencer.”

  “And to ye, m’lord.” Eager hands glided up and down his back. “Ye feel so verra fine tonight.”

  “As do you.” His aching swelled so he devoured her mouth, her chin, and her lovely neck.

  From there he continued laving her until he arrived at her breasts. There he worshipped until the pink tips turned hard and she moaned.

  “How many sons will you give me? Eh?” He nipped playfully.

  “Sons? Nay. Only wee lassies.” Her fingers wrapped around his length, eyes merry.

  With a little growl, he rolled over her and positioned himself at her entrance, teasing. “Strong lads to keep us safe into our old age.”

  Damp curls lifted and wet his tip. “One of each?”

  “Wife. I’m going to bed you every day for the rest of your life. Surely, my seed has better yield?” With a chuckle, he found the right spot on her jaw, just below her ear.

  Before this night is through, I’ll find every place that makes her shudder.

  “Verra well. Five but not one more.” Long legs wrapped around his waist and arms clamped around his shoulders.

  “I can see you need convincing.” He kissed down her flat stomach, picturing it large with child.

  From there he spread her legs and found her pearl, wet and swollen.

  How do I deserve a woman with a thirst that rivals my own?

  With her red curls tickling his nose, he licked, kissed, and teased. He clasped his hands around her butt cheeks and sucked until she arched high, fingers clenched in his hair.

  As she shook, he blew warm air, making her harder. She was so close, that a fingertip was all it took to make her shatter.

  He slid up her body, placed his tip at her quivering core, and plunged into heaven while she screamed out his name, meeting him at every dive.

  “Ah, ah. Rose!” He got lost in her pure delight and spent his seed with a kind of joy not meant to have constraints.

  Then, with a kiss to the top of her head, he reached for the blankets while the drum in her chest slowed. Like that, he slept unhindered by nightmares.

  Chapter 18

  One year later

  Chest all but bursting with pride, Hugh walked through the streets of the bailey with his wife’s hand tucked into the same arm that held their sleeping son.

  When he tickled the boy’s chin, Rose scolded, “Don’t be wakin’ him or he’ll need to be fed and that will be the end of our outing. Ye won’t be able to show him off except for the mighty power of his wailin’.”

  Hugh ignored his wife and nodded at the blacksmith, who stopped his hammering to peer at the babe as they passed. “A fine son, m’lord.”

  After conversing, they bought gifts at a stall with colorful pottery, one with sweets, and one with needles and threads of all sizes. Rose fingered a thin bone spike, then purchased it while the proprietress cooed over the infant.

  His wife bought linens, wools, and insisted he be fitted for new boots. “Ye’ve got holes in those, Hugh.”

  Chuckling, he allowed her the pleasure of outfitting him. Despite many discussions on how he’d gotten along fine on his own for years, she loved trying to dress him as a fine English noble and trying to rid him of his foreign looks.

  “Everyone will be here tomorrow. Play the part, even if for just a day. Prithee?” She batted those thick red eyelashes, knowing he would give in.

  Hugh sighed. DeBruce, de Wolfe, and her uncle de Longley, would all be at the christening which also was an engagement for his son. Although solidifying the peace with the Scots, Hugh prayed the lad would forgive him when he came of age.

  They strolled to the church and spoke with John, formerly of the priory who held out his hands to take the child. “Are all the preparations made?”

  Rose shook her head. “I still have—”

  Hugh poked her in the ribs. “All is fine, dearest. I’ve taken fortresses with less measures.”

  The baby started to make little sucking motions with his mouth so the priest handed him to Rose. Immediately, Hugh-the-Younger began to root and when no milk was found, he wailed.

  Hugh grabbed the crying babe. “My apologies. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Back in the great hall, Rose sat on a pillow by the fire, unbuttoned her tunic, and used a wool blanket to cover herself as she nursed their son.

  Hugh eased down beside her with his heart overflowing and looked up when his father called out. “May I enter?”

  “Prithee, join us.” Hugh stood, shook hands, then pointed to a cushion near the fire.

  Someday, there’d be benches or even chairs but he honestly preferred the comfort of warm rugs and the thick pillows. Also, it served to remind people, especially his father, that Hugh had spent much of his life in a different world.

  “How’s the little baron?” The elder le Despencer eased his aged frame down while joints creaked.

  “He’s getting bigger every day, m’lord. Soon, he’ll be holding a sword.” Laughing, Rose held up her son who kicked his legs and pissed, getting some on his grandfather.

  That’s my lad.

  Hugh chuckled, grabbed the linen, wiped the floor and threw it to his father. “Hopefully by then, the boy will be able to use the garderobe.”

  “He’s only three months. Give it time.” She laid the babe near the fire, little arms flailing, no doubt happy to be free of the swaddling.

  Hugh’s father leaned back, looked up at the rafters, and asked in an innocent tone. “How goes the marriage contract?”

  Damn him. He knew it was a sore subject with Rose and yet still brought it up in front of her. Some things never changed.

  “It’s done but if either party reaches maturity with grave misgivings, we’ll barter again.” Hugh looked to Rose and she nodded but her mouth had gone tight.

  Endless nights they’d argued the finer points of blending families. Finally, they both came to the same conclusion. The only way they could keep their lands and their people safe was to forge new bonds.

  When a large shadow appeared in the doorway, Hugh started to stand but the one-eyed de Wolfe waved him off, squatted, and handed the babe a rag-toy. It immediately went into the baby’s mouth and the huge man chuckled and grabbed his toes.

  “Strong boy, le Despencer. You’ll give him to me to train when he’s ready?” The Wolf stared at Hugh intently with his one good eye, as if no was not an answer.

  Rose opened her mouth to argue but Hugh squeezed her thigh and answered for them both. “We’d be honored.”

  If she had her way, the lad would grow up a priest or weave rugs with the women.

  After the christening the next day, all returned to the gr
eat hall to feast on spicy lamb trenchers, thick brown bread, figs, jams, and cheese. Then, they worked off the lethargy with sword fights in the training field. The women cheered while naked babies and toddlers played under their watchful eyes.

  The long summer day grew to a happy end with most of their guests asleep in the hall or the inn. Later, Hugh picked up his son, climbed the tower, and poured he and his wife a well-deserved chalice of wine. Silently they sat on the mattress watching the babe suck his thumb, amazed at the quiet.

  “My lady?” Hugh sorely needed his wife but feared she might not be healed from the large tear made at birth.

  Sapphire eyes captured his, just as they had since that first day in Inglewood. “What is it, m’lord?”

  That was the day God had forgiven him his many sins. Otherwise how was it possible that she’d been in the forest at the same moment he fought with her brothers.

  At the thought, he smiled and kissed the freckles on the bridge her nose. “Do you recall the night you seduced me?”

  “Don’t you?” She grinned, eyes sparkling with a look that made his lust grow painfully hard.

  Keeping her gaze captured, he unbuckled his weapon, placed it on the floor, and took her small hands in his. “As I recall, you put dwale in my wine.”

  “That was only so ye wouldn’t kill me.”

  “Ah, angel. I never would’ve done you any harm. You were and still are my everything.” He drew her lips to his, needing that sweetness more than life itself.

  When they stopped to take a breath, he asked, “Tell me again. How did you manage to steal my heart?”

  “Well, I sat beside you, like so.” She scooted closer on the new feather mattress and placed her hand high on his thigh. “As I recall, you kissed me.”

  “Like this?” His starving lips consumed hers as he tugged her onto his lap.

  “Och, no. It was much sweeter, Hugh. Recall, this was our first kiss. I think ye were afraid ye’d scare me.”

  Hugh gently brushed his lips across hers, shaking with want. “Better?”

  “Aye. That night, you convinced me to take off my tunic. Ye said it was the only way to do it right. Then, I asked you to remove yers. It only seemed fair. After that, I don’t remember much except for vast meadows of unending pleasure.”

  Hugh groaned, laid back on the mattress, and pulled her down on top of him. “Are ye ready for me, Rose? I’m dying to find that place again.”

  “Me? I’ve been ready for days. I thought it was ye who no longer desired me.” The dark centers of her eyes widened as she bit down on her plump lower lip.

  “Ah Rose. Never, sweet angel.” He tore off her tunic, his own, and wrapped his arms around her.

  Flesh rubbed against flesh and eager hands explored each other. They were naked for the first time in months and their need spiked as their kisses grew more urgent.

  Unable to take her slowly, Hugh straddled her with knees on either side of her hips. His cock rested on her stomach and his hands caressed her full breasts. When her nails dug into the back of his thighs, he leaned over and suckled, tasting her sweetness.

  “Och, Hugh.” She arched up, rubbed her wetness against his want, and all hesitation fell away.

  She bucked and rocked and drove him mad but didn’t find her need. So, he jumped off the mattress, stood behind her, and held her hips high. Slowly, he pressed his sword deep into sheath until his knees shook with desire. Clutching the blankets, she pressed back her sweet arse making his balls ready to burst.

  Trembling, he held her hips, pulled out all the way and waited while she whimpered. Then, with his hand to her pearl, he plunged deep as she went wild and seed spurt forth with amazing joy.

  “My God.” Completely sated, he lay in paradise for what seemed like an eternity.

  It was much later that he chuckled as they lay quietly side by side, his hand caressing her belly.

  Her sleepy voice whispered in the darkness. “What’s so amusing, Destroyer?”

  “I think I heard a noise in the wall. Mayhap this place is truly haunted.”

  She snickered. “God help her.”

  The End

  From the Author.

  I can’t tell you how excited I was to be invited to write in Katheryn’s World of de Wolfe Pack Jan 2018 Launch. I hadn’t written a historical romance for over a year so it made the journey extra-special.

  Many have said I should stick with one genre or another but the imagination will go where it will. I’m just along for the ride. Sometimes I feel like the characters write the book and I’m a mere stenographer, documenting what goes on.

  What I can promise is, no matter the genre, in my books you will find strong heroines who stand up to their alpha males.

  I truly believe that we become what we think about all day long.

  Why imagine yourself as less?

  If you like my books, the best way to say thank you is to leave a review and you can get my latest updates by joining my newsletter.

  Other books by Stella:

  Historical

  How to Train Your Knight

  How to Marry Your Wife

  How to Seduce a Queen

  The Angel of Soriano

  Contemporary

  Busted Play

  Counter Play

  Final Play

  Kit