by Fox, Georgia
It was rough, hot, dangerous, splitting her in two just as the lightening cracked open the low churning clouds. But she didn’t care.
The watching soldier pumped his cock with both hands, straining and purple-faced, while the young man at her breasts was surely bruising them with his hungry mouth. And she raced up and over her peak, coming hard, head back, hips writhing, pussy frantically gripping her husband’s shaft.
* * * *
Wulf stilled and let the rapid fluttering squeeze his cock while he restrained himself. If he thrust once more he knew he’d spend and he wasn’t ready yet.
He pulled out of her and set her bare feet on the wet stone. She almost crumpled and probably would have melted to her knees if the soldier wasn’t holding her around the waist.
“You!” Wulf bellowed at the second soldier who was still masturbating by the wall. “Did I give you permission to watch me fuck my wife?”
The man shook his head, his face guilty, but he couldn’t stop his hand’s motion. Wulf knew that helpless sensation all too well.
He crooked his finger at the man, beckoning him closer. The soldier approached with bowed head, thick red cock in hand, the end of it already dripping with seed, some of it on his gloved thumb.
“On your knees man.”
The solder dropped to the wet stone at once.
Wulf told the younger soldier to turn his wife around so that she faced the man on his knees and then he looked into her eyes.
“He wants to say he’s sorry for spying, Emma. How can he make it up to you?”
She was trembling, but passion burned hot in her beautiful eyes. His wife was like a wild thing captured, but unafraid. Lightening pulsed overhead but the thunder was slow in coming now as the storm moved north.
“Open your legs, Emma and let him apologize.”
It took a moment. He stared deep into her eyes and saw the excitement she struggled to hide. Finally, she parted her legs, grabbed the soldier by the back of his head and eased his face into her pussy. She kept her gaze pinned to Wulf’s. Behind her the younger man held her tight, his hands on her breasts, looking down over her naked body to watch his companion.
Emma lifted one leg over the wide shoulder of the other soldier, giving him greater access to her treasure. Wulf could see his wife was drenched with rain on the outside and ravenous lust on the inside. Arms folded, feet apart, he watched the brawny soldier burrow his greedy mouth into that sweet, tight cunt and bring her to another orgasm. The soldier would taste the seed that he, Wulf, had spent in her earlier. Good.
As she gasped and shook, her fingers digging into the other man’s scalp, the rain eased. The last lashes of the storm were passing, but the night stretched ahead. A long night of discovery for Raedwulf. And for his reckless bride.
How many times could he make her peak tonight, he wondered, his own fires almost burning out of control.
Chapter Seven
Her husband’s eyes were narrowed, watching the soldier kneeling before her, eating her pussy. At her back she felt the first soldier stiffening under his tunic and through his chausses. She glanced down at his hands kneading her breasts and then at the head of the man lapping between her thighs.
Her face would have been red hot if not for the cooling rain. How did she get here like this? The storm had drawn her out, beckoned her into wickedness. Yes, she would blame the storm.
The tongue teasing her pussy was not nearly as good as Wulf’s had been the night before, but it sufficed—taking her to the edge and over in a bumpy journey, her moisture quickening, joining the rain that ran down her thighs. Behind her the younger soldier breathed heavily, his groin pressed to her bare bottom so that she felt his cold belt buckle again on her tender flesh.
“That’s enough,” Wulf barked, stepping forward.
The man kneeling scrambled hastily to his knees and Wulf told him to go and spend over the battlements. Apparently he didn’t want the man’s seed near his wife’s pussy. Now he reached down and slid a finger into her. She tensed, gripping with her inner muscles. Emma had no idea what would happen next, but she feared this fire would smolder forever. Even the rain had not put it out and now the storm galloped away over the horizon leaving her behind like a piece of driftwood. Rain trickled from her hair, running in rivulets over her breasts, beading on her nipples so that they shone like gems. Drops fell to her stomach and pooled in her navel. The storm had claimed her for its own; her body thrummed with the last echo of thunder.
Wulf hunkered down before her, sliding a second finger into her cunny, all the way to the knuckle. He studied her intimately, solemnly.
“Here,” he murmured his fingers pushing upward, touching her hidden core, “this is where you are most sensitive.”
She tried not to scream as he wiggled his fingertips against that place inside her.
“No,” she groaned, feeling the quakes beginning deep inside yet again. “Please. I won’t be able to stand up if you…”
“He’ll hold you up,” he nodded toward the soldier.
“But I can’t…” Her knees softened, vibrations shaking her body. The pressure mounted again, even so soon after her last peak, and it spiraled upward through her belly, becoming a rapturous torrent. Commanded by his ruthless touch, her juices came down, flooding out of her.
He withdrew his fingers slightly, remarking on how coated and sticky they were now. Then he pushed upward again. This time she was so aroused it was almost painful when he touched her center. Emma inhaled, rocking forward, breasts swaying. A few feet away the second soldier was shooting his load over the battlements, still watching her over his shoulder.
Wulf looked up and slid his fingers from her sex. “It’s time we went back inside. You’ll catch cold out here.” He stood, lifting her in his arms like a bundle of wet rags. “Bring my mantle,” he muttered to the soldier who’d held her up for him.
“What about …?” The young man jerked his head to where the other soldier was pulling up his hose.
Wulf considered. “Yes. Bring him too.”
Emma buried her head in his shoulder while he carried her back along the walkway and inside the castle. What would he do to her now? She was at his mercy. But she was not afraid; she was excited by it, intrigued, challenged. He was playing with her, learning from her like a new toy.
Back in their chamber, Wulf dried her off with his mantle while she eyed the two soldiers warily, wondering what part they would play.
“They won’t fuck you,” her husband whispered in her ear, as if he read her thoughts. “My cock is the only one that gets to enter you.”
She swallowed.
“But I need to study you, Emma. I want to know every part of you. And the extra hands will help.” He kissed her on the lips, tossing his mantle aside. “Now get on the bed. On your knees here, at the end.”
Twisting her wet hair over one shoulder she climbed up onto the bed and bent over as he wanted, sticking her arse into the air. He pulled her legs wider apart and urged her shoulders down further until her cheek was pressed against the warm fleece blankets, her breasts touching the bed. She was displayed before him and the other men like ripened fruit.
She felt her husband’s fingers touching her labia, opening her sex. She heard him invite the other two men closer. Her stomach clenched. She tried to steady her heartbeat. Cold fingers slid inside her pussy and between her arse cheeks. Three pairs of hands touched her, fondled her, poked her, stroked her. She closed her eyes tight and moaned softly into the fleece as they tantalized her sensitive flesh. A hand held her right buttock, the thumb sliding into her crack, parting her for further inspection. A finger circled the puckered skin around her anus, while another flicked and tickled her nether lips. Another hand held her left cheek and then she felt wet lips kissing it, the bristles of a manly cheek, brushing over her bottom.
“Hold her still.”
Another damp fingertip pressed at her back entrance. Her eyes flew open and she jumped at the sudden intrusion.
She’d told him he could do anything to her if he caught her. Now he held her to that promise. Emma tried to relax, but her pussy felt heavy and full of yearning. The rough finger squeezing into her anus was an odd sensation, causing pressure of a humiliating nature. Then two mouths touched her pussy, kissing it gently, lapping at it. And she was able to partially ignore that prying finger.
The bed dipped by her head and she saw knees and hairy thighs. Hands slid under her shoulders, pulling her upward until she faced a cock she joyfully recognized.
“Emma,” he whispered.
It was her new husband kneeling on the bed before her, his manhood erect, pushing toward her mouth, needing attention. So it was not him behind her, eating her pussy or fingering her arse.
She opened her mouth and licked the bead of spunk from his cock tip.
“Are they making you come?” he asked her softly, one firm hand under her chin.
She shook her head, but knew it wouldn’t be long. Despite the strangeness of this situation, her body went with it, shameless.
“Suck me a little,” he told her. “But not hard. I want to spill deep in your cunny.”
Emma’s breath gathered in a low chuckle. “I thought I would be the one giving you instructions today,” she gasped out.
He moved closer, steering his prick into her mouth, stroking the damp locks of hair back from her cheeks and forehead. “Suck me, Emma. Suck me with your pretty, cherry-red mouth.”
It was not so easy from this angle, but she took as much of him as she could into her throat, glad she’d had some prior experience. Had she come to this man’s bed an untried maiden it would have been a shock, to say the least.
As his sister had said, Wulf was a rare man—although Deorwynn could have no idea exactly how rare and wonderful. He did not appear threatened by the other men or what they did to her. He was keen to learn and experience everything—and let her do the same, it seemed. His cock twitched and throbbed in her mouth while his hands caressed her hair and her spine. The warm, rain-washed taste of him was almost sweet today, but as she rubbed her tongue across the underside of his crown, he stilled, then pulled back, abruptly retreating. He signaled to the soldiers. The finger withdrew from her arse, the mouth likewise from her creaming pussy. They lifted her between them, swinging her around until she faced the foot of the bed. They held her lower body, keeping her thighs spread wide apart, her knees in the air. Wulf hitched forward again and she felt his moist lance prodding at her sticky nether mouth. She heard his grunt of pleasure, the sound of his own hand slapping up and down his incredible shaft. The soldiers spread her legs further, moving her back an inch. Thus, resting on her elbows, her lower body tilted upward, her knees not touching the bed, she was ceremoniously mounted on her new husband’s stiff prick. The other men had put her onto him like a spatch-cocked bird to be roasted.
The immediate fullness took her breath away as his balls slapped into her vulva, his big hands closed around her hips keeping her anchored in place.
The soldiers held her bent legs off the bed. She had no control, while he rutted her fast and hard. When he came he growled like a wolf, ramming his massive cock into her, over and over, showing off. Letting them all know he claimed her. He was the proud head of his pack.
* * * *
“I thought you were shy,” she mused aloud, stretching beside him on the bed.
He pulled her close to kiss her again. “With women.”
“Not in front of men though?”
“Why should I be?” He lifted his left shoulder. “They’re built the same as me, have the same needs as me. ‘Tis nothing. Women are different. I never know what they’re thinking.”
Men were hardly all the same build as him, she mused, running her hand along his semi-soft penis, stroking it with the back of her fingers. He had not been so humble when he rammed home and shot his load in her half an hour ago. Oh yes, he knew what he had—the beauty and splendor of it. Now he knew for sure, because with this man she could not hold back her lusty temper. Like the storm he lured her true wickedness out into the open.
She hoped her new husband wouldn’t get too big-headed.
“Will the soldiers talk?” she whispered.
“No.”
“They might.”
“Not if they want to keep their tongues,” he replied, stern, confident, unswerving. “I’ve plenty of sharp tools in my workshop to rip them out.”
Emma tipped her head back to look up at him. So there was an edge of violence to quiet Raedwulf after all. The way the soldiers had acted around him suggested they knew it too. Those men had come with him, he told her. He’d known them from the days of his confinement.
She wondered if he’d experimented with those soldiers before, but she didn’t ask. Her husband did not encourage many questions. Perhaps it was something about the methodical way he moved, the brutal honesty of his few words and the intensity in his dark eyes. Raedwulf was a man who watched and saw a great deal, but spoke little. He knew himself well, was comfortable in his own skin. Only women, apparently, were his Achilles heel. She still found it hard to believe he’d never known a woman before, but at the same time she was foolishly glad.
He’d enjoyed claiming her in front of those men, she realized. He’d let them have a taste, but he was the only one who could spill inside her; the only one whose cock would know her like that. Raedwulf’s actions might have appeared munificent, but in the end he’d relished showing the soldiers their place and his.
And hers.
Emma tried to quell her excitement. After all, it was doubtful she would remain his only lover. Sadly, if it was true that he had been a novice, she’d opened a new world to him now and there would be no stopping his hunger to explore. There would be other women. She had no right to complain. She was merely a bride sent by the king and she must do her duty without complaint or question. Raedwulf was her lord and master and she belonged to him. But he could do as he pleased.
It was the way of the world.
In any case, she was not in love with him. She had no heart left to risk for love again. So it was just as well if he did not want that from her. All he wanted was her body and that she could give.
Chapter Eight
When Wulf woke, his wife was already gone from the bed. He opened his eyes to find a small, wizened face with a hooked nose bearing down upon him, black eyes blinking angrily.
“What are you still laying abed for, Saxon? My mistress has been up and about, bright as a daisy, these past two hours at least while you lay like a dead slug.”
He rose up, scratching his head and yawning.
The old woman moved around the bed, still muttering. “Told me to bring you up a bowl of water she did. And some bread. As if I’ve naught else to do but wait on you.”
Wulf glanced over at the large bowl of water, littered with rose petals. Clearly he was meant to wash himself. Again. He’d only just bathed from head to foot yesterday! The bread, however, he grabbed at hungrily and stuffed into his mouth, even before his feet had swung down to the floor. The old woman huffed and puffed, hands on her waist.
“You got the better part of this bargain make no mistake, young man.”
He looked over his shoulder, still chewing the bread.
“My mistress would have been better off going to that convent like she wanted. Now she’s got to stay here and be pawed over by the likes of you.”
A convent? He almost laughed but swallowed it, along with the bread. Somehow he couldn’t imagine a woman as vibrant and lovely as Emma hiding herself away with the nuns in a convent.
“Lucky I got her first then,” he grunted. “Joan isn’t it?”
She nodded, looking surprised that he knew her name.
“What was her first husband like?”
The old woman was picking a fleece blanket off the floor, shaking it out and folding it. “A very good man, honest and true. Loved my mistress dearly. And she him.”
He felt a sharp, mean little knife s
tab into his chest. “Why did he die?”
“A terrible sickness. He wasted away slowly. It would have been better if it happened fast. Better for him and for my mistress.” She paused and shot him a scowl. “Why do you ask me all this, Saxon?”
“Curious.” He brushed crumbs from his chest and stood. The old woman hastily looked away rather than view his naked body, but he saw her eyes widen in shock before she turned her head. “Ought to know about my wife’s past.”
“I’m shocked you care.”
“Of course I care.”
She frowned doubtfully. “Then ask her.”
But he didn’t know how to talk to her that way. He didn’t know if he could bear to hear, from her own lips, about her love for another man. And would she tell him the truth anyway? He doubted it. She would let him do all manner of things to her body, but there was a barrier keeping him from going beyond.
Joan flung his mantle across the bed. “Put that on for the love of all that’s holy. Looking at that thing…is more than flesh and blood can stand at my age.”
He stuffed another crust into his mouth and pulled the mantle over his shoulders.
“My mistress tells me she means to sleep in here with you every night. I never heard of such foolishness.”
Wulf would have been soothed to hear she wanted to share his bed every night, but Joan’s next words ruthlessly ripped that comfort away.
“A lady should have her own chamber. I told her she’ll be sorry. Thinks it’s her duty to lay here with you night after night, suffering. Always been one for suffering has my mistress. Thinks she’s no right to be happy. Ah, but ‘tis a woman’s lot, she says, to put up with it and stay silent.”