Montbryce Next Generation 01 - Dark Irish Knight

by Anna Markland

  “Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.”

  He pounded into her, lifting her up and down, feeling the heat build around his shaft as sweat broke out on both their bodies. “Come for me, Rhoni. Come for me.”

  Suddenly she dug her fingernails into his shoulders, closed her eyes and held her breath. Her body went rigid. She quivered, inside and out, and the world shattered as she milked the seed from his body.

  He may have cried out something slightly obscene as his euphoric release swamped him, but it would have been in Gaelic, so he was not too worried.

  Her head lay on his shoulder. “You are my flawless jewel,” he whispered.

  She grunted something.

  He chuckled. “So much for worrying about the bed. We didn’t get that far!”

  She raised her head and looked at him curiously. Her lovely hair was dishevelled, her lips swollen, eyes glazed. She had never looked more beautiful. Her lavender mingled with the musky scent of a woman well bedded. The sight of his teeth marks on her neck stirred new interest in his softening cock.

  “Bed?”

  “I was worried you would feel uncomfortable in Mary’s bed, or that I would.”

  She covered a yawn with the back of her hand. “I did not think of it.”

  “Let’s try it out then. My legs are about to give way.”

  “You said I was light as a feather.”

  He chuckled and climbed onto the bed, still buried deep inside her. They lay belly to belly, breast to chest, his leg curled around hers. She traced a finger down his neck then licked him. Her face reddened. “Did I bite you?”

  He touched the bite on her neck. “Aye, but only after I bit you.”

  “You bit me? I didn’t feel it. I was too lost in feelings I’ve never experienced before.”

  He put his hand on her bottom and kissed her lovingly. “I am proud to be the man to have taken you into a new world, Rhoni. I hope it wasn’t too painful? I felt your maidenhead tear.”

  She shrugged lazily. “I honestly don’t remember it. My mother often warned me that riding astride can break a hymen. When I felt no pain, I assumed she was right.”

  “No, mo stór, you gave me everything this night, as I shared all of myself.”

  She drew back, twirling a lock of his hair in her fingers. She touched his eye patch. “Non, mo croí, there is something you have kept from me.”

  He frowned, a snake of dread uncoiling in his gut. He slid from her body and came to his feet beside the bed. “No, Rhoni. Never. I will never subject you to that horror. Even I cannot look upon it.”

  Hoping to distract her, he knelt on the bed and parted her legs. “My people will expect to see these bed sheets hoisted up the flagpole on the morrow.”

  She nodded with a smile, and he carefully cleansed the swollen lushness of his wife’s most intimate place with the linens, then reluctantly removed the proof of her lost virginity from his body. He sensed she would not be deterred and his heart ached that he was not a whole man. “I am your slave, Rhoni. I will serve you all my life, but do not ask this of me.”

  She sat up, put her hand on his chest, pushed him back and stroked his legs, coaxing him to sit facing her. She curled up with her head in his lap. Her hair felt silky on his shaft.

  “I have entrusted my life to you, Ronan. You have seen parts of my body I have not looked upon. You do not trust me in the same way. You believe your disfigurement will repel me.”

  Regret swept over him. “It revolts me. How can it not be the same for you?”

  She sat up. “Will we spend our lives together, then, with you in constant fear that I might see your blighted eye? You forget, I was on the beach at Prestatone when they hauled you ashore. It was I who rode in the cart with you, holding your hand. I longed then to kiss away your pain. Will you deny me now?”

  He put his head in his hands, digging his fingertips into his scalp. She was right. He was afraid the horror of his abacinated eye would repel her. But it was also true she had seen it and had fallen in love with him anyway.

  She came to her knees and took his hands. “We’ll make a game of it. I will kiss every part of your body, beginning with your toes.”

  Despite his anguish, he laughed, pointing to his groin. “Predictably, my ever eager cock thinks your suggestion is a good idea.”

  She gathered her hair behind her ear and leaned over to lick his little toe, working her way to his big toe which she sucked into her mouth. He leaned back on his elbows, watching her, rejoicing in her innocent boldness, enjoying the sensations, but dreading the consequences of this game he could not deny her.

  She licked his ankles, his heels, the soles of his feet, nipping here and there with her teeth. How often had he dreamed of her worshipping his body thus!

  She ran her fingertips lightly up the length of his shins, then kissed his knees, swirling her tongue around his kneecaps. She made him turn over and kissed the backs of his knees. He had not known touching that part of his body could send fire flowing through his veins.

  She danced her fingers up his thighs, then kneaded his buttocks. She planted a lusty kiss on each cheek. “You have dimples here.”

  Each scar on his back received a dozen kisses, then she gathered his hair from his nape and kissed him there. His shoulders tensed as gooseflesh invaded his skin.

  She nibbled his ear. “Turn over, my lord Ronan.”

  She opened his legs and knelt between them. His erection bucked. “Críost, Rhoni. You will drive me mad.”

  She took hold of his manhood and licked her lips, glancing up at him nervously.

  He reached up to stroke her hair. “You don’t have to.”

  “But I want to. My mother told me it is one of the most pleasurable things a man and woman can do together.”

  He chuckled. “Your mother told you this?”

  She licked the swollen tip of his cock, sending shivers of desire into the base of his spine. “My parents love each other, and my mother discretely intimated things she believed a woman should be aware of before she wed.”

  Ronan’s heart soared. He had married an innocent with a store of carnal knowledge! He thanked God for Mabelle de Montbryce as Rhoni put her mouth on him and sucked. He gathered her hair in his hand, unsure if intelligent words would emerge from his mouth, but he had to tell her. “I have dreamt of a woman taking me into her mouth, but this surpasses my expectations.”

  She glanced up at him, her brown eyes wide, but she continued to suck, her hand moving up and down on him in the same rhythm.

  She knows now she is the first.

  He concentrated on not coming into her mouth as he felt the warmth of her throat on the tip of his shaft.

  “You taste salty,” she rasped when she stopped to take a breath.

  He laughed. “I’m the son of a seal! My name is ironic, because I am not a good swimmer. My father forbade me going into the water.”

  She hesitated a moment, frowning at him. “But, Lorcan—when you pursued him into the sea, you—”

  “Aye. I’m not sure what came over me.”

  How to explain the strange power that had taken hold, propelling him through the water as if he had been born to it?

  Rhoni looked at him curiously, but then seemed satisfied with his explanation. She resumed her teasing, trailing her tongue up his belly and into his navel, pressing her breasts against his erection.

  He growled. “I won’t endure much longer, wife. Be done with your game.”

  She grinned then kissed each of his nipples. He pulled her up and kissed her, thrusting his tongue in and out of her mouth, tasting his own arousal. She groaned, then took over and did the same to him.

  His loins were on fire. She knelt above him, her breasts in his hands and her bottom in the air. He had to be finished with this game so he could plunge his shaft into the sheath he suspected would be warm and wet for him. He tore off the eye patch, flinging it across the chamber. His heart stopped beating.

  She broke off the kiss, looked at
him and smiled. She cradled his face in her hands. “You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen.”

  She kissed the destruction of his eye gently, lovingly. He exhaled a shuddering breath as a tear trickled from his good eye. She licked away the tear, then kissed the dead eye again. “Every part of you belongs to me now, Ronan MacLachlainn.”

  For the first time since the horror of his blinding, there was no nagging pain behind his blighted eye. He lifted her and laid her on her back. “I have belonged to you since the moment we met. I was too caught up in my desire for vengeance to admit it.”

  He parted her legs and hooked them over his shoulders. “Now it is my turn to make you beg.”

  He lifted her hips and put his mouth on her most intimate place. “Did your mother tell you about this too?”

  Rhoni’s mother had indeed told her that some men enjoyed tasting their women, but she had not believed it!

  “I’m too wet there,” she protested, trying to lift his head. He sucked harder, licking her nether lips, then a place that sent waves of delight crashing through her.

  “I like wet,” he rasped. “The wetter the better.”

  He put a long finger inside her, still teasing with his tongue. She gasped, arching her back as he slid his finger in and out, in and out. “Dieu, Ronan. I love that.”

  “Two then,” he said as he slid a second finger inside.

  He held her fast as her back arched off the bed. Then he eased in another finger and she fell into an abyss of bliss. Someone was making strange mewling sounds. Ronan was suckling her breast, then his fingers slid out and his shaft plunged in. As he thrust again and again, the heat built inside. She touched his face, locking her gaze on his as he neared his release. “You are the only man I have ever desired.”

  He withdrew. Had she angered him? He growled, grasped her thighs, and dragged her to the end of the bed. Her sheath throbbed with need for him. He stood, braced his legs and lifted her hips. “You are more precious than my soul, Rhoni.”

  He thrust in and out, in and out, almost withdrawing completely each time. She felt the tip of his shaft touch her womb, then his hot seed flooded her pulsating flesh and she fell once more into euphoria, his guttural shout of release filling her heart.

  Panting hard, he lifted her, turned, and collapsed backwards onto the bed, holding her tightly to his chest, his legs entwined with hers. His heart thudded in her ear.

  Gradually, their breathing steadied. He softened and her body freed him. She glanced up. He had fallen asleep, a smile on his face.

  She eased off him and curled into his side, drawing the linens over their nakedness. Drifting into a contented sleep, she thought she heard the distant barking of a seal.

  EPILOGUE

  The newly-weds slept long past dawn. Contentment washed over Ronan as he stretched awake in his own chamber for the first time in months. He lay on his side and propped his head on his bent arm so he could look at his naked wife sleeping next to him. Her face was buried in the bolster, her hair spread like a golden banner. She lay on her belly, one leg bent. Gently, he put his hand on her derrière.

  Not long ago he had stood at the gates of Hell, but his torment had brought him this incredible woman. He listened to her breathing. A pleasant swelling in his shaft urged him to roll her over and make love. If he moved his fingers a mere inch or two—but his heart wanted to watch her sleep.

  One thing remained to be dealt with though. Reluctantly he took his hand off her bottom and reached for the dowry document on the salver beside the bed. He stroked the parchment along her arm until she woke.

  Her smile as her eyes fluttered open had him struggling with his decision to forgo the lovemaking. The adoration in her gaze was humbling. She stretched and he came close to tossing the parchment away and feasting on her glorious breasts.

  She looked at the parchment curiously then took it from him. She unfurled it, yawned and sat up cross legged to read. Her mouth fell open. Tears welled in her eyes as she crumpled the parchment to her naked breasts. “Alensonne? My parents have given us Alensonne? Did you know about this?”

  Ronan nodded. She whooped, waving the document in the air, then threw her arms around his neck. He fell back on the bed. “My parents trust you, Ronan. They would never have given us Alensonne if they did not have confidence you would take good care of it.”

  He frowned. “That’s the trouble. It will take at least a year to get this tower back to the prosperous state it was in before the MacFintains almost destroyed it. How are we going to manage Alensonne at the same time?”

  Rhoni sat back on her haunches. “Don’t worry. The Cormant family have been Stewards at Alensonne for generations. Michel has passed on, but his sons, Barat and Théo, have returned from England. No one from my family has lived at Alensonne since my grandfather died, years ago. My uncles have castles nearby, and their sons are fine warriors.”

  Ronan sat up and read the parchment again. “I promise you, Rhoni, one day we will go to Alensonne.”

  “I don’t care where I am as long as I am with you, Ronan.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her. “But Alensonne has become my responsibility, as much as Túr MacLachlainn. I want you to know I take that seriously. I suppose I will have to learn your language now.”

  She drew back in shock, then saw his teasing grin. “I will teach you the most important thing to say. Repeat after me. Je t’aime.”

  “Je t’aime,” he whispered, nibbling her earlobe. “Now you tell me. Tà grà agam duit.”

  “Taw graw uhgum ditch,” she tried.

  He laughed. “Perfect.”

  Her eyes darkened. She licked her lips as she raked her gaze over his face. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

  It was only then it came to him that he was not wearing his eye patch. Rhoni had helped him forget. He was whole again.

  If only my heroes and heroines had revealed their stories to me in chronological order, it would have made life so much easier for my readers! If you prefer to read sagas in chronological order, here’s a handy list.

  1066—Conquering Passion

  1066—If Love Dares Enough

  1066—Defiant Passion

  1087—A Man of Value

  1097—Dark Irish Knight

  1100—Passion in the Blood

  1103—Haunted Knights

  1106—Dark and Bright

  1107—The Winds of the Heavens

  1107—Dance of Love

  1113—Carried Away

  1120—Sweet Taste of Love

  1124—Wild Viking Princess

  If you like stories with medieval breeds of dogs, you’ll enjoy If Love Dares Enough, Carried Away, and Wild Viking Princess. If you have a soft spot for cats, read Passion in the Blood and Haunted Knights.

  Looking for historical fiction centred on a certain region?

  English History—all books

  Norman French History—all books

  Crusades—A Man of Value

  Welsh History—Conquering Passion, Defiant Passion, Dark and Bright, The Winds of the Heavens

  Scottish History—Conquering Passion, A Man of Value, Sweet Taste of Love

  European History (Holy Roman Empire)—Carried Away

  Danish History—Wild Viking Princess

  Spanish History—Dance of Love

  Ireland—Dark Irish Knight

  If you like to read about historical characters:

  William the Conqueror—Conquering Passion, If Love Dares Enough, Defiant Passion

  William Rufus—A Man of Value

  Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy—Passion in the Blood

  Henry I of England—Passion in the Blood, Sweet Taste of Love

  Heinrich V, Holy Roman Emperor—Carried Away

  Vikings—Wild Viking Princess

  Kings of Aragon (Spain)—Dance of Love

  If you would like to know how Ram and Mabelle met (none too auspiciously) you will enjoy Conquering Passion.

  Did anything
ever come of the relationship between Baudoin and Carys? Read Passion in the Blood to find out.

  Rhoni and Ronan reappear briefly in Dance of Love, the love story of Rhoni’s cousin, Izzy de Montbryce.

  Also in the Next Generation Series

  Haunted Knights

  They seemed destined to be together. Only Adam’s dark secret would keep them apart.

  About the Author

  Anna Markland is a Canadian author with a keen interest in genealogy. She writes medieval romance about family honour, ancestry and roots. Her novels are intimate love stories filled with passion and adventure. Following a fruitful career in teaching, Anna transformed her love of writing and history into engaging works of fiction. Prior to tackling fiction, she published numerous family histories. One of the things she enjoys most about writing historical romance is the in-depth research required to provide the reader with an authentic medieval experience.

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  GLOSSARY

  A complete glossary for Ms. Markland’s novels.