Rosella awoke, staring up into the face of a man. His dark features and intense gray eyes made her flush with warmth. Her body tingled and throbbed pleasurably. He appeared the perfect knight, except for the secret smile that played across his lips, as though he knew something she didn't. He spoke softly to her, and she was disappointed to learn that she didn't know the language. She smiled sadly.
"Kind sir, I fear that I do not understand you."
The man frowned and spoke again, this time in a language she understood. It was old Anglian, which although the language of many old tomes, was rarely spoken by anyone. His grasp of the language was minimal.
"Princes, I Sir Jamie. I free you."
Rosella smiled at his attempt and answered with only slightly better grammar.
"My thanks, Sir Jamie. How long am I sleeping?"
"It one hundred years, lovely one."
Rosella's mouth fell open in shock, her hands gripping the sheets. One hundred years. Everyone she knew and loved was dead. Listening quietly, she heard no one else rousing in the castle, and realized everyone else must have fled this cursed place. The sorceress who had cursed her had also killed her parents. She was the only one from her kingdom left. The sorrow of it hit and she couldn't help the fat tears that pooled in the corner of her eyes and rolled down her fair cheeks. Her body trembled and she choked back a sob. Suddenly Sir Jamie took her in his arms, gently kissing the tears from her cheeks and murmuring soft words in his language. She turned into him and let her grief wash over her. She didn't know what he was saying, but it made her feel safe to be wrapped in his embrace. When his lips found hers, she didn't resist the soft pressure of his lips sliding across her own. When his tongue flicked her rosy lips she gasped in surprise. Sir Jamie took advantage of the opening and thrust his tongue inside.
Rosella was still feeling the humming sensations in her body that she'd felt on awakening, and they intensified as Sir Jamie stroked her mouth and lips with his tongue. She began to squirm in his lap and she felt something pressing hard into her bottom, which was beginning to pulse strangely. When Sir Jamie began to peel her night rail from her shoulders she pulled away, embarrassed. But Sir Jamie trailed kisses down her neck and shoulder, causing her breath to come in short gasps, as he whispered reassuringly.
"My Princess. We wed soon. You mine. I yours. Relax."
Rosella wasn't sure if she was ready to marry her rescuer. She didn't know him at all. But the sorceress who cursed her had said true love's kiss would wake her, so she relaxed and trusted that this must be right. Sir Jamie felt her reluctance melt away and pulled her dress lower. He knew they didn't have much time. His servant Stephen would be coming soon to see if he'd succeeded, or if he had died at the claws of the dragon. Once that was done, they would send word to the many serfs and peasants, as well as knights who had all rallied to join his new kingdom, should he awaken the princess. A kingdom wasn't worth much without peasants to work the land and serfs to serve their new king. So he took this time to make sure that the lovely princess couldn't change her mind once she was fully awake and realized there might be other, better, choices. His tongue swirled across her skin until he reached her breasts. Taking one taut nipple in his mouth he began to suck the puckered little bud. Rosella gasped and held his shoulders tightly as she began to feel the place between her legs grow moist and throb each time he sucked. She moaned, arching her chest into his mouth. Suddenly he lifted her up, siding her night rail all the way off her body and laid her on the bed. She watched in eager fascination as Sir Jamie rapidly peeled his own clothes from his body. He stretched out on top of her, covering her soft body with his own hard one, taking her lips to still any protests she may have had. He reached a hand between them and stroked her swollen clit. The princess moaned into his kiss. She was wet and ready, still stimulated from before she was awoken, and now from the playing with her sensitive nipples.
"Will hurt, princess. Not long."
Rosella wasn't sure what he meant until she felt a strong pressure at the entrance to her most private place. She felt a soft, yet hard rod rubbing against her pulsing center, then pushing inside her womanhood, stretching her open more than she imagined possible. Rosella grabbed Sir Jamie's shoulders and clung to him as he pushed his cock into her velvety pussy. When he reached the barrier, he leaned down to suck her nipple, causing her sheath to squeeze him tightly and she moaned in pleasure. When she started moving her hips against him, he decided she was ready and thrust himself deeply into her molten heat. She screamed in surprise as he broke through, but the feeling of being filled so fully with his cock while he sucked her tight nipples was more than she could bare. She began to grind her hips into his, mewling softly in pleasure. He didn't move an inch, making her get worked up into a frenzy before finally, slowly, pulling his cock out to the entrance of her pussy. She whimpered in frustration, afraid he was done, and screamed in pleasure as he thrust deeply back inside. Sir Jamie slowly began to pump in and out of her sweet, hot pussy, while his mouth continued to tease first one nipple, then the other. The princess was arching her hips and breasts into his caresses and felt the pleasure inside her begin to build, her body pulsing as she reached her peak. Rosella thrust her hands into Sir Jamie's hair, clutching him tightly to her breast as her sheath gripped his cock in a spasming orgasm that brought melodious laughter to her lips. Sir Jamie stared at her somewhat strangely, but the look of bliss on her face told him the laughter was a good thing. As Jamie's hot cum shot into her womb, Rosella's pussy gripped him one last time, the tremors milking his cock until every last drop coated her trembling center.
Sir Jamie and Rosella lay panting, cuddled together in the afterglow. Occasionally a sigh, followed by a tiny giggle would rise up from her chest, but eventually she fell asleep, one leg thrown over her rescuer's muscular thigh. Jamie nearly laughed himself. The chit had slept for one hundred years and less than an hour after awakening, she was napping. Not that he blamed her, he felt rather relaxed himself. It was a dramatic change from the last time he'd had sex. Jamie frowned and looked over at the silken beauty breathing softly at his side. It was worth it, to have her and her kingdom now, but at the time, he wasn't so sure.
Jamie knew how many men had died trying to slay the dragon and claim the kingdom of the sleeping princess. In one hundred years, there had been hundreds of attempts, all of which failed. Sir Jamie knew there had to be more to it than just bad luck or lack of skills. He had inquired to a few magicians and witches, if there was anything they could give him to help in his quest, but they had seemed doubtful. Other men had wondered too, if slaying the dragon would require more than might and mettle, and asked for magical weapons to help in their quest. They were all dead. Not ready to make his grave in a dragon's belly just yet, Jamie decided desperate times called for desperate measures. He would go to Severna directly. The sorceress who had laid the curse in the first place
must
know how to defeat the dragon.
He had only heard rumors that the lady was still alive. He could scarcely believe that after one hundred years she could be, but some magic users were crafty enough to cheat death, at least for a while. So when he climbed through the thick forest and up the mountain that was the entrance to her cavernous palace, he was a bit unnerved by what he found. The sumptuous throne room was carved from the solid stone of the mountain. The long hall was carpeted with thick white furs, which shone in the flickering, fireless torchlight. At the end of the hall was the throne, which was piled high with furs and pillows, and sat in front of a mural filled with the skulls and bones of men, plastered to the wall. To either side of the throne itself were two cages. One held a man, who looked miserably at nothing in particular, his broad, muscular body crisscrossed with scars and healed wounds. The other cage was empty, the equally abused occupant kneeling between the legs of the sorceress. The woman reclined on the couch like throne, her legs spread wide as the man licked and sucked her bald cunt. She had deep caramel skin, but unnaturally pale platinum hair that spilled over her naked body. The only covering she had was black runes tattooed all over her body in intricate spirals, and the man's head as it bobbed between her thighs. Her eyes were like her hair, an unnaturally light color, so that there almost appeared to be no iris at all. Her pupils dilated as he approached and her rich, deep voice echoed in the room, surrounding him with her presence.
"Mmmm. Another man here to beg a favor."
