I felt his hands unlacing the girdle beneath my cote and under tunic. His fingers were hot and hurried and Robin snarled in frustration. I laughed. “Slow down, we don’t have to rush.” I smacked his hands before he tore my leggings. “Get your clothes off, and I’ll see to mine,” I said.
We worked in silence, quick and easy as the fire died down again, before I scooted over in the bed, under a pile of blankets and furs, and Robin slid in next to me. He pulled me close and his lips ghosted over mine.
The flickering darkness made shadows leap and dance around us and Robin’s mass subsumed mine, his shadow larger, darker, a more certain thing in the night. The fur and wool covering us heaved over his shoulders, a cape made for a creature of the wild forests, made to run with nose to the ground, ears tuned to the slightest sound. I could see the glitter in his dark eyes and feel the hunger in the heat of his body, every muscle tuned to me, the sun giving life to his passion. Those rough fingers traced favoured lines on my flesh, already well known from previous games of intimate surrender that we’d played.
“I wish I could make this perfect for you,” Robin murmured. “I fear I am not a tender lover.”
I traced his scarred brow and cheek with my fingers. “If I wanted tender I would not have chosen you to share my bed.”
“I am a rogue.”
I rose off the bed a little and nuzzled into his neck. “Yes, you are a rogue, a thief, a vagabond and an outlaw. You are the man my mother would have warned me against if she had lived. I would not have you any other way, my old fox.”
He reared back a little and a shaft of cold air ripped over my heated skin making me gasp. “Fox am I?”
“An old dog fox who has seen too much but must continue fighting for his family.”
His rough fingers slid down my flank as he turned us on our sides, then pulled my naked thigh over his hip and opening my legs in the process. “An old dog fox… Well, I suppose you might be right, though I could do without the old.”
I sucked at the soft patch of skin over his pulse and he shuddered. “I think you still have quite a lot to teach me, old fox.”
Robin growled and rocked against my hips, our cocks bumping and sliding against each other. I gasped as his large hand grasped my backside and pulled me closer still, fingers digging in with painful intent. He made me writhe and my balls drew up tight.
“You are a magpie for me,” he mumbled into my neck. “Black and shiny, with flashes of green and blue, the white a contrast to remind me of the innocence I am bound to protect.”
I pushed him back. “I hope I sing better than a magpie.”
He laughed. “You sing more beautifully than the blackbird, the nightingale and the lark.”
I settled ruffled feathers and when his fingers brushed between my buttocks I moaned, pushing back only to find them gone.
“Good, I’m glad you’re eager for me.”
The whimper gave away my brazen need for more. He brought his fingers to my mouth. “Suck for me, Will.”
I drew those fingers into my mouth and made three wet. He fucked them into me a few times making my hips rock against his thick cock before withdrawing and replacing the fingers with his tongue.
While he controlled my mouth his hand strayed down to my waiting and needy hole. I felt everything with the sensitivity of a blushing virgin. “I can still stop if you need me to,” he whispered against my lips.
I licked his mouth and beard. “No.”
Just one finger circled a few times before pressing gently into the secret place of my body. A small keening sound began inside me as I stretched to take what I wanted to love so very much.
“Will, my beautiful, tender, man, you feel so perfect, can I give you more?” Robin’s words were rough but gentle. I nodded against his chest, inhaling the bitter scent of his arousal and the safety of his skin.
More of his body breached mine and I arched back, taking everything I could find. His breaths were short, hard and the trembling need in him gave me confidence. I rocked back and forth a little but the glide was uncomfortable along with the burn. Robin sensed my distress and removed his finger. For a moment he rolled away from me before returning with a small pot.
“An oil for our pleasure,” he whispered.
Almost a salve he scooped out a small amount on the end of one finger and returned to the prize he wanted so much. “Try to relax, you’re very tight.”
I couldn’t find words. I felt confused, scared, needy and lust driven. I wanted it but I also wanted it to be over so I didn’t have to be scared any more. I couldn’t quite get outside my babbling mind, I couldn’t find the stillness I wanted to be in at that moment and love Robin with gifting my body to him. At least I couldn’t until he pressed his finger into me and went deep in an instant.
“Fuck me, Will. Take your pleasure of me. Take control of this before fear stops you. I am yours to use.”
I dug my strong fingers into his back. “I am scared.”
“I know. I will always protect you, Will. You mean more to me than I can ever express.”
I wanted to scream at him to try. I wanted him to tell me love graced his big, scarred heart, love for me but I couldn’t so I allowed a tear to slide down my cheek, unseen in the darkness, and gave what he wanted. What we wanted if the heat and desire burning inside my guts were telling me the truth.
I rode his finger to soft words and gentle kisses until sweat glistened on our skins and the entire world come down to two things, my desire and Robin’s need to fulfil it.
“I am going to give you more,” he said.
I lifted my leg higher over his hip, opening myself further and a second finger joined the first. I froze at the tight intrusion. It burned, stretched more than it should, it hurt, but not like I remembered from my childhood. I bucked back and cried out.
“Steady, Will.” Robin’s concern made him start to pull his fingers back but I reached for his wrist.
“No, don’t move.” I held his hand still and proceeded to force my body to accept this new experience.
Robin shuddered. “God, help me, you feel so good.”
“I want more,” I said. “I want more, open me, fuck me, I don’t care. I just need more of you.”
He wouldn’t be rushed but he began working me open. I felt him twist his hand and force me over the rough knuckles. The third finger made me see stars in the dark of the hut, but didn’t stop me from working them into my body. When his fingers curled and found a soft spot inside me a sob escaped my control.
“Shh, my beautiful boy, shh, it feels too good, I know, but you’ll learn to accept it.”
I had to take his growled words as law by this point, the confusion and fear of moments before had fled to a dark corner of my mind I couldn’t see because a blaze of heavenly light filled my mind with all the colours of dusk and dawn rolled into twilight, night and midday.
Over and over he fucked me, kissed me with lazy control and let me writhe against him, clutch him, claw at him and beg in sounds that were not human. At no point did I think I would come, I just hovered on the edge for what felt like hours as he played with me.
“Now, you’re ready to take me,” he said against my lips.
I nodded, far beyond speech. He rolled me onto my back, lying between my thighs and I raised my legs to tip myself up for his pleasure.
“I was going to suck you dry before I made you take this but I can’t wait, Will. I can’t look at your beautiful, sinful mouth, your body spread open for me and not just crawl inside.”
“Time for more later,” I managed, digging my fingers into his backside to urge him on.
When he finally removed his fingers the world tilted, unpleasant and empty for a moment, before the hot wet head of his cock pressed against my tight hole.
“I cannot remove all the pain, Will. Take it and trust this will feel good.”
“Just do it,” I moaned, almost thrashing my head in desperation.
He grunted and pressed his hi
ps forward. I huffed out a breath in shock at the difference between his rough fingers and the smooth skin of his cockhead. It felt so good, the flare of it forcing me wider, so wide I thought I might tear open for him to see my heart and soul begging for him to make me belong.
“Will, do I have your consent to take this further?”
“Jesus, Robin, do you need me to sign a piece of parchment giving permission?”
He cradled my head in his palm. “Yes, if possible.”
I laughed.
“God, don’t do that, I’ll come.”
“Then go on, for goodness sake,” I ordered.
Robin’s forehead pressed to mine, his glittering eyes on mine, his back bowed into mine, and his cock filled everything that belonged to me. In one brutal move he dominated everything in my world. The unfamiliar weight of his balls against my backside shocked me more than the intense sensations happening inside my body.
“Dear God,” I cried out.
Robin’s hot and heavy breaths, his sweat slick skin and quivering muscles covered me and I lay gasping like a fish for a few moments. Then my body took over. My hips had sufficient room to draw back a little and so I impaled myself on his thick, long manhood. He whimpered.
I experimented a few more times before I found that magic spot inside me and his ridged shaft rubbed over it. I rocked hard against him and everything happened at once. Robin threw off the bedclothes, reared over me, grabbed my thighs and pushed both up to my shoulders before pinning them in place as he began fucking into me deep and hard.
“More, yes,” I cried out, uncaring about anybody other than the owls that might hear our union.
Robin fucked me like he was punishing us both for depriving us of this pleasure. The slap of our bodies, the slick sounds of the liniment and our harsh breathing sounded debauched, depraved, deviant and I loved it. His kissed me with an animalistic abandon, all teeth and spit.
“I can’t… Fuck, Will, I can’t stop.”
“Don’t, don’t stop.”
The thrusts became short, brutal, and he grunted heavily. I pulled on his nipples and he cried out, pushing deeper than ever before locking solid over me and the heat that flooded my insides made my pleasure rock outwards from my balls. The shock of feeling my body tighten around his, the heat of my release hitting my belly and his chest, his fingers searching for it so he could taste it, own it, before kissing me as he continued to throb inside my body while I shuddered and rocked under him, made the world dissolve and become renewed. His tongue fucked my mouth hard, his fingers pushing more come between our lips and he continued to move inside me.
And it wouldn’t stop, we couldn’t stop, wave after wave made us continue to move in the oldest of dances. The second round didn’t last long, and more heat flooded my insides that were now slick and sore.
“Oh, God, oh, Will, never did this old dog fox think he had it in him,” Robin half laughed, half groaned as he slowly, tenderly, drew his hips away from me. In one sudden moment we were two separate beings again.
“Will?”
Two separate beings. He could leave me at any time.
I covered my face with my hands.
“Oh, no, I thought… Will, I’m so sorry.”
I heard his panic.
“Hold me,” I managed.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t, just hold me. I’ve never felt this before. Hold me.”
“Oh, my dearest…”
His arms came round me, he rolled onto his back, dragging me over his chest before pulling the covers back over us. I wept. He couldn’t say it, he couldn’t tell me that he loved me in his scarred heart. I felt it, but in that moment I desperately needed to hear it, instead his every action spoke the words he would not give. Right up until the moment oblivion took me in her sweet arms Robin cared for me, washed me, coaxed me to drink a little wine and nestled against my body.
I felt cared for, nurtured, held safe but I so wanted to be loved with words as well.
24
AFTER PROMISING ROBIN THERE would be no contact between myself and Guy of Gisborne, he allowed me to return to Nottingham alone for news. We might not be able to predict the movements of the sheriff’s men any longer but that didn’t mean we had to remain completely blind. We needed news, and what better person to collect the news but a harmless minstrel? Walking into the city made my skin prickle, the guards were more vigilant, passporting merchants, writing down other names, checking weapons and removing them where necessary. I made certain to leave my sword safe, outside the walls of the city, along with my bow. As I walked under the arches of the vast city walls, the portcullis felt like a real threat to my freedom. I struggled not to flinch as the guards shouted, hunting down some miscreant.
“They seem unusually awake today,” I said to a merchant who watched them as well.
He hawked up phlegm and spat. “They have a list.”
“A list?” I asked, voice a little faint. The guards had caught the young man and their aggression made the lad scream before a terrible silence descended.
“List of those to look out for from the forest. The outlaws. The local pickpockets, thieves, beggars, rustlers, they’re all being rounded up.” The man pointed to the keep on the hill. “They hang ‘em, every day at noon. They have a new man in charge, tough bastard from France.”
“I’ll be sure to stay safe,” I said and smiled while trying to ignore the sick twist of my guts.
“Just make sure it’s only your lyre you carry,” the man advised before walking off.
Guy knew I was a minstrel, why didn’t he have a list with my name on it? I’d given them a false one at the gate, of course, but surely they should be looking for a black haired minstrel?
I made my way to the inn, the feel of the city so very different to the last time I’d visited. An air of open hostility between the city guards and the town’s folk existed. There seemed to be a suspicion of strangers I’d never experienced before and there were so many guards. When I walked into the Rising Sun the fear in the city pervaded the air even in this safe hostelry. There were customers at the tables but the atmosphere was fraught, sharp, a discordant hum. Did we do this?
Malcom caught sight of me in the doorway and vanished into the kitchen, I frowned and followed him. Bess stood at the bread oven and they were having quite the argument in whispered voices.
“Hello.” I unhooked my lyre and placed it on the table.
Bess pushed Malcom back. “You’re a bloody idiot, Mal. I’m not going to fill the boy’s head with your nonsense.”
“What’s wrong?” I had a sneaking suspicion I knew but hearing the reality might be too much right now.
“We know it’s you,” Malcom said, his gruff voice full of resentment and anger.
I could feel the colour draining from my face. My knees weakened and those sweaty palms returned. I couldn’t breathe.
“Get out of my kitchen, Mal,” Bess said, pushing him towards the door for the bar. “You’ve never understood the boy, get out.”
Malcom left, with a disappointed glower at me.
“Sit, Will.” The instruction would not be disobeyed.
I sat at the table. Bess sat opposite me and looked me right in the eye. “You, that man Robin you introduced me to and Tuck – what the hell are you up to?”
Her honest brown eyes looked at me without judgement as they always did and I found it impossible to keep my lips sealed. “It started as Tuck and Marion’s idea.”
“You have the sheriff’s wife as well?” she asked.
I nodded. “Marc beat her in front of her men, she ran to her brother and Tuck.” I spoke in a broken whisper.
“Tuck and Marion?”
I nodded. I felt tears press against my eyes. I loved Bess and Malcom, to have their disappointment and anger surround me placed a weight on my back I didn’t know how to carry.
“And Robin is her brother?”
“Lord Huntingdon – or he would be i
f he wasn’t already an outlaw by the time he returned to Nottingham. Bess, I didn’t want to lie to you but Tuck and I wanted to keep you both safe and the less you knew…”
She turned her head away from me, a sharp eyed look on her face I only witnessed when trouble brewed in the tavern. “Your actions are costing lives, Will.”
“I know, I’m so sorry. But Marc has to be stopped, it’s bad out there, people are starving and we’re not even halfway through the winter.” I wanted to reach for her hands but dared not.
She nodded though. “I know it’s bad. It’s bad in the city as well. The taxes are causing problems with the merchants, the food in the market is becoming scarce, people in the city are going hungry, some of them for the first time and it’s hard for the sheriff to maintain control. He’s recruiting more men for the city guard and they are brutes. Sherwood might be restless, but Nottingham is a rebellion waiting to happen. I’ve heard talk of the barons going against the king in the court. There’s talk of openly standing against him among those barons whose lands are in the north. This is bigger than you and a scrappy bunch of toe-rags in the forest.”
“The barons?” I asked.
“There’s talk of war, Will. Like there was before the old king. Those were not good times for the country. War is never good,” she finished on a whisper of her own.
Before King John, and his brother’s failed Crusade that broke Robin, King Henry brought peace to England and most of Europe. The country had been in a state of perpetual war for a generation while King Henry’s mother, Maud, and uncle, Stephen, fought over the throne.
“We never wanted civil war, Bess,” I said.
She snorted. “As if you’d be capable of making that much of a difference, Will Scarlett. I’ve never heard such nonsense. It’s the barons who are seeking war or some kind of declaration from the king.”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“I’m a clever woman who listens and we have a lot of new soldiers in Nottingham thanks to your foolishness. Soldiers talk and I listen. There’s a new knight in the castle who seems to terrify them but they respect him and I’ve heard he’s been talking to Marc about how to stop rebellion in Nottingham so he can support the king not the rebel barons.”
Men of Sherwood (A Rogue's Tale Book 1) Page 20