Innocence Enslaved (37 page)

“You can’t mean to challenge me; you’ve a sword and I’ve a dining dagger.”

Corbet moved his arm out to his side and dropped his longsword on the floor out of reach. He then drew the stiletto he always wore sheathed at his waist. “Now we’re even, Ives. This has been a long time coming; prepare to meet your maker and account for your sins.”

The earl charged and stabbed at him first. He was clumsy and slow, however, and in his arrogance, plainly thought he could defeat a leather smith—the fool. Corbet, she knew having witnessed it herself, trained with his sword regularly, and had superior upper body strength from his work with leather and horses. He was also young and fit, and easily sidestepped the earl.

He countered immediately with a flick of his wrist. This lowered his long dagger and in a downward slice, swiftly and surely lopped off the devil’s prick that still lay exposed in his open hose. Corbet didn’t flinch, looking on as Ervin screamed, his hands dropping to his groin as he squealed like the stuck pig he was.

Aghast, Emilia shrieked out of surprise, rather than horror.

When Corbet spoke, his voice was deathly cold, filled with the icy rage that had been brewing for nearly a decade. “That is for Alice and all the other innocent victims you’ve tormented for years.”

The earl was determined, or irrational from loss of blood, she wasn’t sure which, but he raised his knife and took a vicious swipe. Corbet deflected it easily, wasting no time in plunging his stiletto deeply into his gut. “And that is for Sara.”

Ervin staggered back. Emilia saw him teeter and barely had time to scramble out of the way before he landed with a plop on a stack of flour sacks. His hand, which surprisingly still clutched his weapon, rose futilely to his belly as blood flowed freely from both wounds.

“I didn’t kill your wife.”

“You ordered it so,” Corbet growled. “Admit it.”

“Mercy,” the man cried.

“Tell me the truth and I might be merciful.”

“So be it. You had defied me too many times and I wanted to make you suffer.” He coughed, blood dribbling from his lips. “Please, you promised mercy. I beg of you.”

“So I did.” Corbet stepped away and bent to retrieve his sword. “And as a man of my word, I’ll show you the same mercy you’ve shown the citizens of Lancore.”

She couldn’t stifle the gasp that rushed between her lips as he drew the weapon back in a sideways two-fisted grip, his intent clear.

“Close your eyes, Emilia,” he directed.

Knowing he meant to spare her the heinous image, she obeyed. Still, she heard the swish and the subsequent thud as he delivered the
coup de grace
, and beheaded the odious lord in a most fitting fashion. At long last, there would be an end to the boundless suffering he had perpetuated.

She heard boots scuff across the floor. “Keep them closed tight, sweetling. You don’t need to see this in your dreams.”

He scooped her up in his arms and he made his way from the room. She buried her face in his neck, clinging to him as she whispered, “It had to be done, my love. He caused so much pain and too many deaths. And he killed the king in cold blood; none will fault what you did, husband.”

“That which happened will not faze me one bit. He was the devil incarnate, here on earth. The only regret is that you had to suffer his presence and his touch.” He kissed the top of her head as he strode back toward the great hall. At the doors, he paused and pulled a cloth from a table to cover her breasts.

Once she was wrapped up, her modesty protected, he passed through the doors and announced loudly, “It is over. Lord Ervin is dead by my hand, as is the king by his.”

“King Nordman is dead?” one knight asked in clarification.

“Yes, Ervin stabbed him in the neck with his dagger.” A murmur swept through the room as fighting ceased. The knights who came with Ervin lowered their swords. Ranulf, the king’s knight who had been assigned to Lancore, spoke next.

“Thank you, Sir Corbet, for releasing us from his ruthless control. I served at the behest of the king. Now that both he and the earl are gone, I am free of their service.”

“As am I,” said another Lancore knight.

“And I, thank the Almighty,” exclaimed another.

“He held our family’s hostage for our service,” Ranulf explained. “My daughter is twelve and promised to one of his vassals when she is fifteen. He promised she would remain unharassed if I served him true.” He strode forward and knelt before Corbet. “The horrible deeds he demanded of us… Thank you, sir, for ending our indenture, unofficial though it was; the next lord cannot possibly be as cruel.”

Another took a knee at Corbet’s feet, as did another. Soon all of the troop who had served Ervin were bowing to him, swearing to champion him if ever he should need them.

Emilia and Corbet both looked on, dumbstruck. Silence encompassed the room as the others tried to absorb what had happened that day. Footsteps rang out as a younger man approached.

No more than twenty, the young man had blood on his clothes, his face was flushed and dripping with sweat, clearly having fought as hard as the rest. Stopping before Corbet, he bowed low at the waist. “You have my thanks for avenging my king, lousy sovereign though he was. Trust that I intend to do a better job when I take the throne.”

A collective gasp echoed through the room as one by one they recognized Geoffrey, the son of Athelmas’ brother and the next in line to the throne. The mesmerized crowd dropped to their knees.

A beat slower than the rest, Corbet stood her on her feet. Following suit, he too sank to his knees, tugging her down beside him.

“Long live good King Geoffrey,” someone murmured. The others picked up the short chant until soon the gathering was repeating it loudly, hopeful that a new era of goodness dawned as they closed the lengthy chapter on vice, manipulation, and evil.

Epilogue

Three months later…

Walking swiftly down the long corridor, his booted heels struck the polished stone floor with a purpose. His tread was light in his exuberance as he rushed to his destination, the sound echoing loudly in the brightly lit hallway. He barely noticed the faces of the former kings and queens as they stared out at him from their gilded frames. He grinned to himself as he neared the hall that would take him to his chambers.

He nodded a greeting to the guards who snapped to attention as he passed. They seemed surprised to be acknowledged, but he gave them their due, not one to put on airs, despite his new position.

Lord Corbet Mills, earl of Lancore.

He grinned as the title rattled around in his head. It seemed absurd, but the thought of the power he could wield in order to put to rights the wrongs and injustices he’d witnessed in the last decade gave him a sense of determination. He’d readily accepted the king’s appointment, but declined the manor home out of hand. No one blamed him, considering all the wicked things that occurred within those walls. And, no one had questioned when the abandoned structure had caught fire one morning some weeks back and burned to the ground.

Emilia had lamented not being there to witness it firsthand, and kicked up her heels in a jig in celebration. Laughing to himself, he quickened his pace, eager to get to his bride.

He eased open the door without knocking, the only one who would dare to do so. As he closed it quietly behind him, his gaze sought the bed, which was bathed in the soft light of a dozen candles. His body responded to the sight of the beautiful Titian-haired woman gazing back at him from amidst the silken sheets and bountiful pillows.

“You look stunning, sweetling, though I thought you be long asleep by now.”

“I tried, but I couldn’t.”

“Too excited?”

“I’ve never been to a coronation before, or lay in a bed of silk, or slept in a palace.”

He chuckled. “You haven’t slept yet. And I have never taken my lovely wife in a palatial castle. I’d like to see to that before we rest.”

He began removing his clothing, carefully laying his coat of arms, signifying the earl of Lancore, over the clothes rack. When he turned back, he stilled, his cock growing to full length at the sight of her kneeling naked beside the bed. Her skin glowed beautifully and her full breasts rose and fell more rapidly than usual. With her chin dipped to her chest, her thighs parted, and her palms lying open on her thighs, she awaited him.

“Emilia, what is this?”

“You truly are my lord and master now. I wanted to swear fealty and as well as my love and devotion. I thought this appropriate.” Her chin tipped up, a smile gracing her lips as she let her head fall back, revealing the velvet collar around her throat, the one he had given her months ago for her role as his slave. Never had he thought the winds of fate would shift so severely and bestow such happiness upon them.

He walked to her, taking her chin tenderly in his hand as he gazed down at her loveliness.

“Does your slave please you, master?”

“Nothing has ever given me more pleasure. Up on the bed, now.”

She eagerly bounded to her feet and lay back. Her arms extended above her head and she arched her back in a seductive stretch, as her perfect breasts tempted his fingers, as did the glimpse of glistening pink wetness between her slightly parted thighs. Always it revealed the extent of her desire for him. It was too much to deny.

With haste, he skimmed his hands up her legs, separating them far apart as he moved up on the bed. His mouth came down and he licked her sweetness.

They groaned together.

“Never will I get enough of you.” His mouth opened and he devoured her honeyed folds.

“My lord, I wanted to be the one to give you pleasure.”

His fingers delved into her center, two of the gliding in and out of her slickness. “You please me. I enjoy watching you tremble as I lead you to the brink of ecstasy, hold you there, teasing you, making you writhe and squirm with my fingers and tongue, until you can’t withstand anymore and fly apart in my arms. Nothing is as beautiful as when you let go.”

“I’m glad,” she murmured, her hips moving restively, the need clearly growing stronger within her, “but I wanted tonight to be special.”

“Then we’ll make it so.”

His tongue flicked over the bud that was an infinite source of pleasure for her. He played with her there often and intended to give her something new tonight, something decadent and wickedly carnal that he knew they both would enjoy. He lifted her legs with his hands on the back of her thighs, spread her incredibly wide, and ran his tongue the entire length of her slit. Stopping in the middle to tongue fuck her, his finger flicked the bud until her cries filled the room. Then he moved lower, circling her still unclaimed opening with the tip of his tongue. Certainly, he had teased her before, licking, touching, even dipping in slightly, but tonight he would claim it as his own.

Her honey was flowing freely with her desire, and the tightness he intended to take was glimmering with it. All the better to ease his path. Moving above her, he licked up her belly and along the center line between her breasts. He claimed each hard nipple, teasing one with his fingers as he sucked the other deep in his mouth. He then moved up and kissed her, his hips aligning with hers, his cock naturally finding the hot wetness it sought. He plunged into her pussy first, drenching himself fully, getting himself ready as well as her.

When he pulled out, she whimpered at the loss. Leaning up on an arm, he hitched her legs higher, lifting her luscious bottom off the bed and giving him a clear path to her virginal opening. He guided his cock lower until the head found the tight pucker protecting her back entrance. He pressed into her slowly, watching as her eyes flew open, the vivid green more brilliant in her passion. They anxiously sought his out.

“Breathe and bear down. Let me in, dove.”

“A dove no longer,” she murmured expectantly.

“Here you are,” he said, sinking deeper, “after tonight, no longer.” He drew back only to move forward the next instant, sinking more deeply, pleased when a current of desire passed through her with a shudder. His thumb sought her bud in front, which had swollen and stood up tall from its slick hood. He tantalized it with circular motions and slow flicks back and forth.

“Master.” Her throaty cry came low from her throat and told him she was close. Always she reverted to slave and master when she was about to succumb. He had no qualms about that, a secret they shared amongst themselves. In truth, he was the one enslaved. She owned his heart fully, more so as she gave more of herself to him. Never denying him when he wanted to explore something new, a challenging position, a new spanking implement, and now fucking her tight little ass. He was enthralled with his little slave, as much as she said he had entranced her.

“I can’t wait any longer.”

“Don’t,” he urged as he surged deeper. “I want to feel you grip my cock as you come hard, sweetling.”

And she did, the very next instant, her muscles clamping around his shaft in a grip tighter than a fist, so hard it was almost painful, and more than he could take. He moved deeper, pumping in and out of her back channel until he erupted, filling her with hot splashes of his seed.

“By the saints, master,” she cried out, shuddering beneath him.

“I’ve got you,” he replied, with a breathless laugh of exhilaration despite having come hard. He pushed up, bracing his weight above her on his locked arms. “What do you think? Was it all that you fantasized about?”

“More,” she replied with a satisfied smile.

Still hard, he began moving in and out, still full of excited energy.

“Again?”

“Yes, however, this time, you get to ride.”

Without separating, he rolled, bringing her up on top. He guided her feet so that they straddled his hips and helped her balance above him. “Now take as much as you want, fast or slow, whatever you like. While you do that, I’ll play.”

She looked up at him, surprise clear in her beautiful face as she realized there was still vulnerability in her position.