Knight of Pentacles (Knights of the Tarot Book 3) (8 page)

He was willing to take her all the way to the top, but not like this. He got onto the bed on all fours and crawled over her until their faces were even. He wanted to see her expression when he claimed her maidenhood; wanted some assurance he was causing her no undue discomfort. He also wanted to kiss her—though, if she was like most of the women he had bedded of late, she would be squeamish about the scent of her own body clinging to his beard.

Her eyes were alive with arousal.

“Are you sure about this?” He sincerely hoped she was.

“Yes.” The passion in her gaze flared brighter. “More sure than I’ve been about anything in a very long time.”

Positioning himself, he eased into her until he was fully seated. Her hot, moist sheath was so deliciously snug, he damn near lost control. Taking a moment, he lowered his body onto hers, delighting in the feel of her supple breasts against his chest. Resting his weight on his elbows, he took her face between both his hands.

“Do you know how beautiful you are, Jenna?”

Chapter 6

“No,” Jenna answered, throat tight with emotion, “but you make me feel as if I am.”

It was the truth, but not all of it. He made her feel many ways she never had before. Alive, enflamed, desirable. Mostly, however, he made her feel worthwhile. If only he wasn’t a faery knight and she didn’t have to go back to the real world and pick up the pieces of her shattered life when this retreat came to an end.

If only they could find a way to be together.

She pushed the future out of her mind. Better to savor the moment for all it was worth. There would never be another first time. She was glad it was with Axel instead of William. Even if it couldn’t last. Axel was tender and accepting. He was everything she’d ever wanted; everything she wished William had been.

Wrapping her arms around Axel’s neck, she reveled in the feel of their physical connection. Not just the interlocking of their sexual organs, but also the weight of his body, the feel of his hard chest against her softer one, the gentle tickling of his hair against her face and neck. His beard smelled strongly of her sex. She wanted to kiss him anyway.

Pulling his mouth down to hers, she gave him her tongue. As he suckled her offering, he began to move inside her. His thrusting burned, though not unbearably so. He must have sensed her discomfort because he stopped and pushed up on his arms. “Am I hurting you?”

“Only a little.”

“Would you rather I stopped?” His voice was soft, his eyes gentle—and so blue it was like looking through a window into heaven.

“No.”

“Perhaps if we try another position…”

Pulling out of her, he stood, took hold of her legs, and pushed her toward the other side of the mattress. Then, he climbed back onto the bed and lay down crosswise to her.

“Scoot closer,” he instructed, “and put your legs over me.”

When she had done as requested, he entered her again, only this time, he played with her clitoris while he moved inside her. This made all the difference in the world. Pleasurable sensations began to swirl inside her. She’d felt them before when his mouth was down there, but this was even better.

The sensations grew in pressure, like steam building in a kettle, until she reached the boiling point. Her body arched and convulsed as pleasure ripped through her. This was what passion was supposed to feel like.

When the steam cleared, Axel was beside her, propped on one elbow, stroking her hair. She felt remarkably comfortable with him, but also something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. A golden feeling that turned her insides to warm caramel. And then, she realized what it was.

She felt
cherished
.

This man, this faery knight, she’d only just met made her feel more valued than William or her father ever had.

“How do you feel?”

“Happy.”

She regretted her choice of word as soon as it left her mouth. Happy was such an insipid word, and there was nothing bland about the way he made her feel. On the other hand, if she started spewing superlatives, she might scare him away. She needed to keep things in perspective. He was a centuries-old runemaster and warrior, while she was just one more in a cast of thousands—another notch on a bedpost that had been scored beyond recognition.

“You do not look happy,” he said. “Please tell me you are not having regrets about giving yourself to me.”

“No, not about that.”

One of his sandy eyebrows shot up. “Then what?”

“If I told you, you’d think me quite mad.”

“I shan’t.” He kissed her cheek. “I promise.”

With a hard swallow, she turned to him and forced her trembling lips to smile. He was so close, so present, and so gorgeous, she almost yearned for an encore. “I regret that you can’t stay with me.”

Jenna closed her eyes, unable to bear his probing gaze. She couldn’t lie to him. If he pressed her, she’d reveal too much and sound foolish. Then, he would reject her and she’d be devastated.

“I regret that, too. But I shall come back to you every night—until the new moon—if you will have me.”

“Of course I will have you.” A smile broke across her face. “But why only until the new moon?”

“My queen has given me a quest to undertake on her behalf.”

Worry pierced Jenna’s heart, sending it crashing back to earth. “What sort of quest?”

“To retrieve something of hers that was stolen—by another knight.”

His eyes suggested there was more to the story, but she didn’t want to pressure him into telling her. Let him keep his secret or confide in her in his own good time. She would be gone in a fortnight anyway, so what did it matter?

“What is she like, this queen of yours?”

“As heartless as she is beautiful.”

“Is the quest she’s sending you on dangerous?”

“Only if I fail.”

Jenna frowned at him. “Is that a possibility?”

“Aye, but only a remote one.”

“And if you should fail, what will happen?”

“She will offer me in place of the knight who betrayed her.”

“Offer you? To whom?”

“Modroc Morfryn, the overlord of the Unseelie domains. Every seven years, all the rulers under his protection must pay a tithe to remain in his good graces.”

Having grown up in a vicarage, she understood a tithe to be a tax collected by churches from their members. Obviously, what he spoke of was something more sinister. She swallowed her rising distress to make way for the question she had to ask. “What happens to those tithed to the overlord?”

“They are sacrificed,” he said softly.

Her mortified reply was muted by his kiss, but one that was different in intensity from those they’d exchanged in the heat of passion. This kiss was tender, caring. This kiss made her wonder if he might be growing as fond of her as she was of him.

No, surely not. She was inexperienced and vulnerable, while he was seasoned and hardened. She was not good enough to win the heart of a man like him. He probably made every woman he slept with feel this good. It didn’t mean he cared. She mustn’t let her romantic delusions carry her away. Even if she did come to mean more to him over the next two weeks, there was no way for them to be together.

He lived in a cave in a glen and belonged to Morgan Le Fay. And Jenna had no home and belonged to…no one. But, wait. That might be a blessing under the circumstances. Maybe she could make a life for herself here in Rosemarkie. She could get a job at the local library—assuming there was one—and come to the glen at night to be with her knight.

The idea put down roots and sprouted branches. That would be a nice little life, actually. A better life by far than she ever could have hoped for with William. She could spend her days among books and her nights with a man who made her feel beautiful and desirable.

Assuming he was amenable, of course.

Axel cupped her face with his hands, bringing her back to the room. When had he stopped kissing her?

“You are wrong,” he said.

She offered him a timorous smile. “Wrong about what? I didn’t say anything.”

“I can read your thoughts.”

Uh, oh. Please let him not reject her impetuous plan out of hand. She looked away from his gaze. “I was thinking many things. What in particular am I wrong about?”

“You
are
special enough to win the heart of a man like me.” He stroked her face. “In fact, you already have. And if I succeed in my quest, I would like very much for you to remain nearby—and to come to me in the glen each night under the light of the moon.”

Tears of joy gathered in her eyes, tightening her throat. She could see no reason not to agree. There was no one to go back to, no one to condemn her choice to stay in Rosemarkie and, if things between them didn’t work out, she could always move somewhere else and start over—just as she would have to do if she left. So, she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. In fact, it seemed a perfect plan, apart from one tiny detail: What if he failed in his errand for his queen?

* * * *

Like every other night, Axel dreamed of the Battle of Bannock Burn. Only this time, instead of falling from his saddle after the arrow pierced his breast, it was Jenna who pulled him off his horse. As he fell to the ground, she took him in her arms and held onto him with an iron-like grip as he shifted from one terrifying creature into another.

She did not let go until he became a red-hot sword, at which point, she threw him down a well. He emerged as himself again, but naked. As he reached for her, he saw Queen Morgan, watching them with fire in her green-black insect’s eyes. Behind her, mounted on ghoulish black horses, was her vampire army—thousands upon thousands of red-coated corpses darkening the landscape as far as the eye could see.

He was afraid, but Jenna boldly stepped in front of him, filled her lungs with air, and blew them all away like a strong breeze across a field of dandelion down. When she turned back to him, she was naked, too. They had turned into Ask and Embla, the first human couple, who Odin created with the help of Hœnir and Lóðurr. After forming the couple from trees, the three gods imbued them with life, spirit, and reason.

Knowing they’d been made to populate the earth, Axel lay on the ground and urged Jenna to sit astride him, taking his sex into hers. Though he knew it was merely a dream, their coupling felt amazingly real. She bent to kiss him. Her lips were soft; her tongue coarse and wet. He closed his lips and held on, linking their mouths the way their sexual organs were joined, but in opposite formation.

A balanced partnership.

Axel came awake to find Jenna watching him with her bewitching green eyes. They were both under the covers and it was still night. In the soft moonlight coming through the window, she might have been Sjöfn, the goddess of love.

“What were you dreaming about?” she asked.

“You.”

Rolling toward her, he gathered her to him. The rest of the dream would take too long to explain. His cock was hard, and he wanted to be inside her again.

She closed her hand around his erection, heightening his arousal. “What was I doing in your dream? Or do I hold the answer in my hand?”

Smiling, he kissed her softly. “You were riding me like a Highland pony.”

“I see. And would you like me to make your dream come true?”

“Oh, aye.” His smile broadened as tingling warmth rushed through his body.

He meant the whole of it, not just the sex part. What all of this was supposed to signify, he could not say. This much, however, he was sure of: the dream was more than a dream. The gods were trying to show him something of importance, something to do with Jenna and Queen Morgan. Normally, he would get up and write down everything he could remember before it faded from his thoughts, but normally, there was no beautiful lass beside him with her hand on his cock.

All thought of the dream ran away when she climbed atop him and ran her hands over his chest. He was not the wooliest of men, but he did have a dusting of wiry golden curls across his sternum. As she played with his chest hair, he admired her beauty, his fingers aching with the need to touch. She looked utterly enchanting with the pale moonlight kissing her face and her auburn hair hanging down around her perfect breasts. As he took their fullness into his hands and ran his thumbs across the nipples, she shuddered atop him. Want pierced his abdomen like a spear.

“Are you sure you are not too sore?”

“I’m not half as sore as I thought I’d be.”

Her statement gladdened him, and not just because he wanted her again. He wanted to give her joy, not pain.

Rising up on her knees, she came down on him slowly. She felt so good, so hot and tight, he nearly disgraced himself and exploded right then. Holding tight to his control, he let a low groan escape his throat.

As she began to ride him, he moved one hand between her legs and teased her hot spot. She threw back her head and made a sound that acted upon his libido like a pair of spurs.
Holy Valhalla.
The sensation was so exquisitely intense, it bordered on agony.