Chapter Ten
The first thing Annavieve was aware of was someone touching her shoulder.
It was a gentle brush, like butterfly wings, but it was most definitely a touch.
Roused from a sound sleep by this gentle, delicate touch, she stirred, opening her eyes to see that it was barely dawn.
There was some light coming in through the broken shutters, but not much.
The moment she moved, however, a big hand rolled her onto her back.
Kevin was on her, covering her with his warm, naked body.
He smelled of leather, of the leather breeches he wore, because the smell of the tanned leather somehow rubbed off on his skin.
Still half-asleep, Annavieve inhaled the scent, finding it new and exciting and overwhelming.
As Kevin’s mouth latched onto a tender nipple, Annavieve closed her eyes and gave herself over to him completely.
Truthfully, there was nothing else she could do.
As his hands roamed her body, gentle yet confident, Annavieve’s sleep-hazed mind drifted to the previous night.
Kevin had taken her to the festival in the street and they had stood for several minutes near the entry to the tavern, watching the frolicking going on.
It all seemed like great fun. She had soaked in the atmosphere, and the happy people, realizing she had seen very little happiness at the convent.
They had been there to serve God and nothing else; therefore, witnessing such unbridled joy had been something of an experience for her.
Thoughts of the previous night brought a smile to her lips.
Torn between wanting to participate and being content to watch, she had been pulled into a line of frolicking women when they danced past her.
Squealing, she had been dragged along with the group as they danced to the merry flute player.
Twice, she caught sight of Kevin as he stood where she had left him, near the tavern.
He was laughing at her. Her heart had swelled at the sight; there had been something so joyful in his laughter.
Kevin’s mouth was now moving down her torso and Annavieve instinctively parted her legs, knowing he was seeking her warm, sensitive core.
Her hands went to his head, timidly, where he was letting his dark hair grow in.
It was actually filling in quite a bit and she ran her fingers along his scalp, tentatively.
His head felt soft and fuzzy. As he began to lick at her pink folds, she groaned with pleasure, her mind drifting to more scenes from the previous night.
After she’d been pulled around by the cavorting women, Kevin came out to take her from the throng.
Someone had handed him a mask, or perhaps he’d even taken one off of someone, because he’d had a mask made of fabric and feathers over his eyes as he’d taken her hand and led her over to a group of couples who were dancing to a man who was beating on a drum and singing a song about birds in the spring.
She’d had no idea what to do in the couples’ dance but Kevin had talked her through it the first several steps and, quickly, she caught on.
The rest of the dance was spent holding Kevin’s hands as he led her through her paces.
It had been the most wonderful experience she’d ever had.
He was mounting her now, gently pushing her legs further apart as he entered her wet and waiting body.
Annavieve flinched slightly as his thick, heavy phallus pushed into her, sore from the day before, but she welcomed his sensual intrusion as he began to thrust in and out of her.
Her hands, so recently on his head, went around his neck as he lay atop her and gathered her into his arms. It seemed right to her to hold him tightly as he pounded into her sweet, supple body, and her lips, next to his ear, thought to kiss him.
It simply seemed like the correct thing to do.
The moment she did so, however, he lifted his head from the crook of her neck and slanted his hungry mouth over hers.
Someone had brought out pieces of a kissing bush the night before.
Usually reserved for the Christmas festival, the Twelve-Days celebration, little green springs of the kissing bush made the rounds as they had danced and Kevin had been handed a piece.
He had looked at the green leaves for a moment, as had Annavieve, and she had fully expected him to refuse them.
Instead, he’d reached out to take the greenery and held it up, over their heads.
As Annavieve’s heart had thumped painfully against her breast in anticipation of what was to come, Kevin had leaned over and kissed her, very sweetly, on the cheek.
Then, he’d handed the piece of the bush off to someone else and they continued with their dancing.
He’d held her hand tightly the rest of the night, never letting her go, not once.
His thrusting was increasing in pace and his kisses against her mouth were deep and passionate.
Annavieve could do nothing more than eagerly respond to him, having no idea how to take the lead or become aggressive.
All she could do was submit to his power and mimic his actions, suckling his lips as he was suckling hers.
She could feel a fire burning in her loins, a sensation that made her want to open her legs wider and rub herself against him.
As the heat built, she did just that; her legs spread open, greater than before, and she began to match him thrust for thrust. As he came down, she came up, and the friction between them sparked wildly when their bodies met.
The dancing had gone very late. It had been the most wonderful thing she could have imagined, being escorted through dance after dance by the massive knight who was surprisingly light on his feet.
He had twirled her, or spun her around, or threw her up over his head as the drum beat and the man sang.
He’d seemed to be having a marvelous time, too, because at one point when he pulled her close because the dance called for such a thing, his lips were by her ear and he sang softly in beat to the drum:
“A young man came to Tilly Nodden,
His heart so full and pure.
Upon the step of Tilly Nodden,
His wants would find no cure.
Aye! Tilly, Tilly, my goddess near,
Can ye spare me a glance from those eyes?
My Tilly, sweet Tilly, be my lover so dear,
I’m a-wantin’ a slap of those thighs!
Then our young man, his life less grand,
Since the day he met our Tilly.
His love for her nearly drove him daft,
When he discovered not a puss, but a shaft.”
The strains of Tilly Nodden, the bawdy tavern song he had refused to sing to her earlier, filled her ear upon his whispered breath.
She’s giggled uncontrollably the rest of the night whenever she thought about the song and even now, as their passion built to a peak, the words from that song made her smile yet again.
After all, it was a rather naughty song.
But, then again, she was feeling rather naughty at the moment.
But her smile soon faded as her loins exploded in a burst of shattered stars and sunlit pleasures.
Eyes closed as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over her, Annavieve saw stars as her climax came fast and heavy.
Kevin’s came soon afterward, with a grunt, and she could feel his manhood throbbing within her.
She knew that meant he’d spilled his seed for she’d seen the pearly-white evidence the previous night after he’d taken her.
She knew that meant his seed was within her, hopefully to take root.
His child, she thought. I shall bear Kevin’s child.
Content, and exhausted, she wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly, holding him close to her as if to never let him go.
They lay there for some time, wrapped around each other, until a cock crow caused Kevin to lift his head. He could see that the sun was becoming brighter as the dawn deepened. He was warm and satisfied as he had never been in his life and reluctant to break that spell but he knew that he must.
In fact, he knew he must break the spell for many reasons, not the least of which being that it was dawn and a new day was beginning.
It was because he had made love to his liege’s wife, as ordered, but this second time around, it had most definitely ceased to become a task.
Now, it was becoming a need. He was quickly losing his perspective on the situation.
All he knew was that, this morning, he had bedded her because he wanted to, not because he’d been ordered to.
The walls around his soft-centered heart had crumbled significantly.
“We must rise and get dressed,” he finally said, feeling her hands on the back of his neck, caressing him. It was a wonderful feeling. “Then we must go to the church to see if your garments have been suitably altered.”
Annavieve couldn’t help but notice he didn’t look at her as he spoke. “We have time,” she said. “How are you feeling this morning?”
He pushed himself off of her, gently, breaking her hold on him. “Well enough,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
Disappointed that he had separated himself from her, Annavieve clutched the coverlet against her nude breast as he got out of bed. “Because you drank quite a bit last night,” she said. “If I’d had that much, surely my head would be aching this morning.”
Kevin turned away from her in search of his clothing and it was then she saw the massive scorpion tattoo on his back. She hadn’t seen it the day before when they’d first made love.
“I am fine,” he said again, picking his leather breeches up off the floor. “Get out of bed, now. We must break our fast and go to the church.”
Annavieve wasn’t listening; she was looking at the elaborate tattoo. “Your back,” she murmured, fascinated. “You have a drawing on it.”
Kevin pulled up his breeches. “I do, indeed.”
“What is it?”