How to Seduce a Queen: A Medieval Romance Novel by Stella Marie Alden Page B

ocean.
    What an arse. “Then I have a verra fine reason not to believe in Him, don’t I?”
    He turned without warning, grabbed both of her shoulders, and stared a hole into the depths of her soul. “Do you love her, lass?”
    “Did I not just say so? She’s my dearest friend.” Fay struggled, but could not flee his iron grip. The man was insufferable. “Let me go.”
    He shook her lightly and held her gaze. “But more? More lass?”
    “You would nay believe me, no matter what I confess.” She closed her eyes so as he could not see the hurt.
    He sighed and released her. “Mayhap not. Go back up the way you came. When you’re safely in your room, put the lamp in your window. I shall not attempt to return until then. Monk or no, ’tis unseemly to be alone with you.”
    “Why so? That is, if you believe I’m not attracted to men, it should not matter.” Surely he could see his flawed logic.
    “Because others—”
    “Believe the same as you.” She took one step and breathed him in.
    More fiercely than ever before, the longing returned. This time, in addition to wetness between her legs, her breasts felt heavy and her mouth dried. She licked her lips and her pelvis tilted up in wanting.
    His eyes grew dark, and even with his monk’s covering, the bulge under his belt became prominent. His mouth moved close but not touching. He was waiting for her.
    Hardly able to stand, she breached the small distance, and pressed her lips onto his surprisingly soft ones, tasting of sea salt. He growled, closed his strong arms around her back until her breasts flattened against his chest. An eternity could have passed as they shared lustful kisses. Nothing else mattered.
    She became aware of his thick length prodding her pelvis as his tongue asked for entrance. What would he be like inside of her? She held the back of his head, hoping the magic would never end, and pushed her need against his. Heaven called to her as she lifted her kirtle and wrapped her legs around his waist.
    He moaned and lifted his tunic. The soft skin of his cock slipped to her lower lips, trying to find entrance. Without warning, a vision of the-day-that-could-not-be-spoken appeared. Instead of her monk, her stepbrother, Gofraid, grasped her, leering.
    His cock that day was bulging and swollen. He turned her onto her back and there was nothing but pain.
    She screamed. “Nay. Stop.”
    She scrambled back and away, but Gofraid held her down. With nails, she tore at his face and she kicked and bit. She cried out, but he beat her and raped her.
    Finally she just wept into the solid form that held her and rubbed her back as one might a wee babe.
    “Fay. Lass? Where did you go?”
    She opened her eyes. Gofraid disappeared into the dark dream-world, and Brother Nicodemus sat beside her atop the small hill of stones and shells. His face was bloodied above his beard, where she’d scratched him. His eyes showed such concern that her throat tightened and tears began anew.
    “I let go the moment you screamed. I swear I meant you no harm. For the kissing, I may go to hell, but not for what you were screaming about.” His hands held hers tightly as if she might run.
    “Tell me. Did we . . .” She studied his eyes, his mouth, and his cuts. Dear God. What had she done?
    His brows creased. “You think I would take you while you fought me?”
    She shook her head back and forth. “Nay, Nay . . . Oh, I’m not quite sure of anything. One moment I was kissing you and the next I was ten and three, and you were Gofraid. Forgive me, Brother. I truly have no recall. You and I did not, not . . . your manly parts did not . . .?”
    He brought her palm to his injured cheek and gave a sad smile. “You were quite adamant. You should’ve warned me. I am a man of God, but I am but still a man and you are a very beautiful woman.”
    “I would guess that you no longer believe I cherish the cook.” She smiled as he wiped away her tears with the edge of her tunic.
    He nodded.