A Knight Of Her Dreams (Knights of Passion)

by North, Evie

It was all he needed. Roget’s big hands clasped her thighs, widening her legs, pressing his hips between them. His body was so much bigger than hers but Rowena was willing to suffer pain to be taken by him, to be made a woman by this man.

  The head of his cock slid along her slippery flesh, and she caught her breath when he brushed against her clit. Passion, momentarily forgotten, came roaring back and she reached to gasp him about the waist. He tilted his head to take her mouth, distracting her, and she moaned as his tongue slid between her lips, tangling with hers.

  And then he was filling her, his cock pressing forward into her core, deeper and deeper, stretching her until she wondered if he could go any further. But it was not unpleasant. Even when he broke her maidenhead there was little pain, and his kisses and his touch acted as a salve.

  “Look, lady,” he said huskily.

  She looked down between their bodies, and they were joined, his body deep inside hers. As she stared in wonder, he withdrew almost entirely, and then slid inside her again with an easy glide. Reaching down he fingered her clit, and she felt her sex spasm around him. That sensation of something rushing toward her was back, and now she was determined to allow it its way.

  He thrust deeply, and her body tensed about him, holding him, so that he groaned and thrust again, even more deeply. Rowena lifted her hips to give him even more access and he reached down to grip her buttocks, moving more quickly. Suddenly her body clenched and she cried out against his mouth, and then he was juddering, moving jerkily as his climax took him.

  For a time they lay together, lost in the aftershocks. He stroked her cheek, his dark eyes gazing into hers. “Thank you, Roget,” she said, her voice hoarse from passion.

  His mouth quirked. “My pleasure, lady.”

  She wriggled. The bed was too small and her hip was going to sleep. “I suppose you must go now,” she said, trying to sound firm and not regretful.

  He looked amused; why was it she amused him so? “I think I will wait a little while, lady.”

  “But . . . it is over, is it not?”

  Roget bent and began to lick at her nipple, using his hand to cup the flesh of her breast, tipping it up for his better access.

  “Oh,” she managed, breathless suddenly. “Do you mean there is more?”

  “I do, lady,” he growled. “Indeed I do.”

  Rowena woke to the morning and for a moment was aware of the ache of her body and the weariness of her muscles, and could not understand why. A moment later she remembered and a smile curled her lips. After she had thought he was leaving, he had taken her again, and then again as she dozed, his arm tight around her middle as she lay with her back spooned into his chest and hips. His cock had slid easily into her from behind, and his fingers had splayed over her mound, delving down into the warm, slippery folds, finding her clitoris.

  They’d moved slowly, sleepily, until the ecstasy made their bodies shiver and arch, and she’d turned her face for his deep, passionate kisses.

  Alone in her bed, Rowena stretched and, with a wince, sat up.

  Roget had shown her what it was to be a woman; he had given her such pleasure. And now he was gone.

  Well, she told herself briskly, that was as it must be. Her one night. Her one glorious night, she corrected herself with a sigh. It would have to make do for forever.

  The door opened and Nell peered in. Her smile couldn’t have been more satisfied if it was she who had spent the night with Roget and not Rowena.

  “My lady.” She skipped into the room, beginning to pack Rowena’s belongings into her trunk. “There will be water to wash with in a moment,” she added, with a sly sideways glance. “We will be leaving as soon as the men and horses have eaten.”

  Rowena kept her face as blank as she could. “Thank you, Nell.”

  But then Nell came and stood before her. “Well, lady? Don’t tell me you are disappointed!”

  Rowena’s mouth curved into an unwilling smile, and her eyes gleamed. “Oh no, Nell. I wouldn’t tell you that.”

  The maid giggled, and hurried to fetch the water.

  Outside the hostelry the men at arms were ready, their horses moving restlessly, the litter awaiting its occupants. Rowena nodded to the grizzled captain in charge, Hugo, but despite herself her eyes strayed down the line, looking for him.

  She didn’t see him, and disappointed she moved toward the litter. And it was then that she saw him, waiting to help her inside.

  “My lady,” he said, holding out his hand for hers.

  She had no desire to smile at him or press his fingers or anything else, because he seemed so different. His face was stern and cold, his eyes focussed on a point just beyond her shoulder, and his manner respectful but distant.

  Rowena knew this was how it must be, and if he were to show they were known to each other then the consequences would be catastrophic, and yet . . . She must be a fool, because she wanted more from him.

  Inside the litter, she sat back among her cushions, hardly noticing as they started off down the long road home to her cold husband and her fine castle. Home. Was it? It didn’t feel like home. Rowena moved restlessly, hating the confines and the rocking of the litter even more than usual. Why couldn’t she ride her own horse, with her men? She could ride, unlike many women of her day, but it was the custom for a woman to sit before a man when on a horse.

  “Like a simpleton.”

  Nell was staring at her, and then she gave a giggle. “My lady, what did you say?”

  Rowena blushed. “I’m sorry, I was . . .” She waved a hand. “I was wishing I could ride instead of sitting in the litter.”

  Nell was thoughtful a moment. “You could ask Roget to take you before him,” she suggested, with a sly glance. “Say you are feeling unwell.”

  Rowena frowned. “But that would be rather unlike me, would it not, Nell?”

  Nell shrugged. “You are Lady Rowena, you can do as you wish. No one will question you, no one will dare.”

  Rowena thought a moment. She’d never been anything other than a conventional woman, but last night she had felt reckless and she still did. She nodded to Nell. “Stop the litter and tell them,” she ordered. “I will ride with Roget.”

  Nell looked delighted as she moved to stick her head from the litter to call a halt, but Rowena caught her arm.

  “Don’t make it obvious I want him, Nell. Don’t let Hugo suspect—he will report to my husband.”

  “Yes, my lady. I will be discreet.”

  It was so much more comfortable with the sunshine and fresh air in her face, Rowena decided, smiling as she closed her eyes. When instructed, Roget had murmured a toneless ‘Yes my lady’ and lifted her indifferently upon his horse and climbed up after her. She didn’t care. She had felt his warm hand touch hers, just for a moment, and it was enough.

  After they had ridden with the others for a time, she asked if he would take her forward, away from the dust and sweat, and he had complied. Now they were a little ahead of the main troop, and she could pretend they weren’t there. Just her and Roget, riding in the sweet sunshine together.

  “Lady, you should not think your husband is a fool,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. Her veil fluttered and tendrils of her hair tickled her skin. Roget wore no helmet and his curling dark hair framed his stern handsome face. His eyes bored into hers, and there was no laughter in them.

  “I know he is no fool,” she answered quietly.

  “If he discovers you have played him false he will kill you, or send you from his gates with nothing.”

  “Yes. And he will have you taken to the dungeon. I know he sends men there, and watches while they’re tortured. He is a cold man, except when there is cruelty, then his face grows flushed and he licks his lips.” She shuddered.

  “He has never hurt you?” he demanded with a low intensity that made her search his eyes.

  She shook her head.

  He smiled, but there was no humour in it.

  Behind them the jingle
of spurs and reins was getting closer, as the troop of men caught up, Hugo at the forefront. Rowena knew she could not ask for more than this, and was not surprised when Roget came to a halt and suggested she return to her litter now she felt well.

  “Will you come to me again?” she whispered, ducking her head so that no one could read her lips. “Tonight?”

  For a moment she didn’t think he was going to answer, and then he said, “Yes,” before she was helped down to the ground. She didn’t dare to look up at him, but simply walked away.

  The hostelry tonight was larger and cleaner, but the bed was still mean. Roget put the bedding down onto the floor, spreading it out so that they could both lie there in comfort, and then he covered it with his cloak.

  Rowena went into his arms as if she had known him for years instead of days, and her mouth clung willingly to his lips. Her body trembled under the caress of his hands, and it was she who pulled off his tunic and ran her hands over his chest, tracing each little hurt and scar. There was a tattoo of a cross on his bicep; she hadn’t noticed it last night, which wasn’t surprising when there’d been so much that was new.

  “What does it mean? Are you a brother in a monastery?”

  He laughed. “Hardly a monk, lady. No, but I was in a monastery for a time. It doesn’t matter.” He reached to cup her breasts in his big hands, lapping his tongue over her hardening nipples. “This is what matters.”

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  She pushed him back onto the bedding, climbing astride him, excitement coursing through her blood at the thought of this man who was hers. Beneath her thighs she could feel his cock growing harder, and she wriggled so that its tip brushed her warm, slick folds. Her body ached for his, but she held back, letting herself explore the expanse of his chest and the hard muscles of his stomach.

  “You are cruel, lady,” he groaned, when she nipped at his hard nipples.

  Roget’s hands closed on her hips, lifting her easily with his great strength, and embedding himself inside her pussy. He filled her, made her gasp, as he slid deeper into her. The sensation was exquisite and for a moment Rowena did not move, so intent was she upon the moment.

  And then he began to thrust up against her, and she pushed against him, resting her palms flat against his chest, kneeling astride him and riding him, just like she’d longed to ride a horse today. Rowena tipped back her head, her hair tumbling about her naked body, and concentrated on the growing pleasure that was building where their bodies joined.

  Roget stroked her breasts, fingering her nipples, then his back arched as his climax drew nearer and, panting, Rowena rode him harder, her own bliss roaring over her and tumbling her into his arms.

  “I wish you could stay with me forever,” she said, when she could manage to speak. “I will never forget you, Roget.”

  He stroked her skin. “Lady, I wish it too.”

  She clung to him tighter, and felt his muscles bunch as he held her. Soon they would make love again, but for now being held by him was enough.

  The heavy sound of soldiers’ boots approaching brought Rowena up in her bed upon the floor, blinking, pulling the covers up to her naked breasts. Roget was gone, she vaguely remembered him kissing her in the night before he slipped out of the chamber. Shocked, her eyes widened as the door was pushed open so hard it slammed against the wall.

  Hugo stood a moment, taking in her undressed state, his lips curling, and then he gestured for the two soldiers behind him to drag in their captive.

  It was Nell!

  She was hanging limply between their arms, her face bruised, her lips swollen and bleeding. Someone had hurt her, and now as they dropped her on the floor near the bed, she gave a gasping sob.

  “Oh Nell, what’s happened!” Rowena burst out, reaching for her robe and struggling into it, before kneeling beside the girl and slipping her arm about her.

  “He made me tell,” she whimpered. “My lady, I’m so sorry, but he made me tell.”

  Her dark eyes were bloodshot with crying and pain, and Rowena’s heart sank at her words. They knew about Roget! But where was he?

  Nell seemed to guess what she was about to say.

  “He got away,” she mouthed against Rowena’s ear.

  Relieved, Rowena lifted her chin and gave Hugo a defiant stare. “How dare you treat my maid like this! And how dare you burst into my chamber without permission.”

  Hugo looked unimpressed. “Lord Bigod gave his orders, lady. I was to watch you closely, and so I have. You have betrayed your husband and he will know what to do with you.”

  Rowena felt her muscles trembling with fear. Her husband’s cruelty had never been turned on her, not yet. He still might simply send her from his gates in sackcloth.

  “Leave me here,” she said as if she was issuing a command. “I will not come home. He can be free of me.”

  But as she feared Hugo wasn’t about to let her go. “I don’t think so, lady,” he sneered. “You will be punished.”

  The journey back to the castle seemed a long one, but for Rowena it wasn’t long enough. Hugo dismounted and strode straight to Bigod to inform him that his wife had cuckolded him, and Rowena was taken down the dank stairs to the grated door that led to the dungeon.

  She had never been there before, never wanted to. The screams that came from this place made her tremble, and she was ashamed now that she hadn’t done more to intercede for the prisoners. But she knew Bigod would never have listened to her. Just as he would not listen to her now.

  At least Nell had been spared. The girl had been taken to the servants’ quarters, and Rowena had made her promise she would run away at the earliest opportunity.

  “But what of you, my lady?” the girl sobbed.

  “Roget will save me,” she said stoutly, wishing it was true. Roget was probably miles away now, and she was glad that he was. At least one of them was free, and perhaps sometimes he would remember her and their nights of passion. She could live through his memories, because Rowena was fairly sure she was going to die here in this horrible place.

  It was several hours before Bigod made his way down to see her.

  Rowena, chained to a stone bench, had dozed off and on despite the surroundings and her terror. When she heard the key in the lock she tried to sit up, but of course her wrists were fastened by metal bracelets and chains. He came and stood before her, cold eyes feasting on her dishevelled state. Hugo had not been gentle as he pulled her down here, slapping her across the face when she screamed, and her hair had come loose about her, while her fine skirt was torn.

  “You cannot do this, husband,” she said, attempting to make her voice firm. “I have family who will want to know where I am.”

  Bigod shook his head. “Your father cares nothing for you, Rowena. You were merely a counter to him, to be used to increase his own wealth. You are mine, to do with as I wish. Until now you have been good and compliant, but now . . . I think I will enjoy you better this way, the wayward wife, the woman who must be taught her lessons.”

  The cruelty in his eyes was inhuman, and Rowena tried not to shudder as he went to the wall and examined the torture implements hanging there in a neat row. Hugo was stoking the fire below the brazier, and she watched wide eyed as Bigod chose something that looked horribly like a branding iron for an animal.

  “This is my mark,” he said with satisfaction, showing her the ornate B at the end. “So you will not forget who you belong to again, wife.”

  The anticipation was almost worse than the pain. Almost. Watching Hugo heating the implement, smelling the metal as it began to glow red, and then watching her husband approaching with it. And then the searing agony as he pressed it to her thigh, before she fainted.

  Rowena tried to open her eyes. She felt sick and dizzy, and the throbbing pain in her leg came in waves. They had left her alone again, but she knew they would be back, and when she heard the dungeon door opening, she almost screamed. But she told herself she must be brave, that if she refused to le
t him see her fear then Bigod would be denied that thing he longed for the most; his pleasure in breaking her spirit as well as her body.

  Casting around desperately for some distraction, she thought of Roget. She pictured his face, his smile, the tenderness in his dark eyes. The next moment, when a gentle hand cupped her face, brushing her hair from her eyes, she thought she must be imagining it. Slowly, unwilling to relinquish her dream, she opened her eyes.

  Rowena gazed up in wonder.

  “Roget?” she croaked, her throat dry and painful. “I dreamed of you. Are you still a dream?”

  “No, my love. I am not a dream.”

  He was unshackling her and lifting her in his arms, careful of her injury, and a moment later she was being carried from the dungeon.

  Nell tut-tutted over her, washing her and dressing her burn, tucking her into her bed. It was Nell who told her that Roget had come with a troop of men, and they had overrun the castle and taken Hugo prisoner. Bigod had refused to give in, and had died upon Roget’s sword.

  Rowena was glad. Her husband would no longer hurt her, or anyone else. She was free of him.

  “But what will happen to Roget?” she asked. “He will be punished for this. Bigod was a powerful man.”

  Nell’s dark eyes sparkled, the bruises on her face already fading. “I have spoken with some of the soldiers, lady, and they tell me that Roget is a powerful man too. It was King Stephen who sent him to discover if the rumours about your husband’s cruelty were true.”

  Rowena pondered on this, but it was another few days before Roget spoke to her himself. She was in her solar, seated in her carved wooden chair, her bandaged leg resting upon a stool, while Nell chattered to her. As soon as the maid saw him she scuttled away, with a brief grin for the two of them.

  “Is it true?” Rowena demanded.

  Roget came and knelt by her side, reaching for her hands. “My lady, I was sent to watch your husband by the king. There were rumours. A man like Bigod can make many enemies. He claimed to be Stephen’s vassal, but the king did not want such a man doing such evil work and at the same time claiming his blessing.