by Treva Harte
He laid his head between her breasts, letting her cradle him. Her hand brushed his sweaty hair. He turned his head, his mouth against one breast. She hummed something he couldn’t quite hear. Maybe they weren’t words, just an approving noise. Mio smiled.
Yes. He could barely feel the pain beginning to throb in his leg. From past experience, he knew the hurt would intensify with time. It didn’t matter. The agony would be more than worth it.
Chapter 4
“You be nice to my Mama.” Stefani stood, hands on her hips, glaring at the large hulk before her.
Maryam hurried forward, faster than the stately pace she’d wanted, but she feared what the big man might do to her impertinent baby. When she reached them, she stopped and fought a sigh of relief. Ulrich looked more puzzled and amused than angry.
“Why do you think I’d hurt her, little princess?”
“I like that. Mama, listen!” Stefani turned her head. “I am a princess. The big man said so.”
“What you are is a spoiled little girl.” Maryam couldn’t help touching her daughter’s hair, even though the gesture undermined her admonishment. “You run along to Ara now. Mama will be busy for a while. Behave yourself.”
Stefani turned back to Ulrich and shook her finger. “You behave, too!”
She scampered away. Maryam cleared her throat. “You’ll have to excuse her…”
Ulrich made a rumbling noise. Maryam just barely kept herself from backing up at the volume of sound. Goddess, everything about the man was outsize, even his…laughter?
“She wouldn’t appreciate being excused. The child is already a fire-eater. I’ve fostered a number of lads who haven’t twice her spirit. If she were male, she’d be keeping boys twice her size on their toes. I suppose it’s lucky she’ll not learn to use a sword.”
Maryam smiled. She’d had no idea such a large brute might appreciate small children. She’d heard not every man volunteered to foster young boys. Perhaps Ulrich had an unexpected gentler side, something more than the ferocity he projected.
Please, let her own boys have gained a mentor who could be both gentle and fierce, a warrior and a parent. They had all been so young when they’d had to leave the keep. So afraid. She’d never have asked for a better guide and protector than the Ulrich she hoped she glimpsed before her.
Did it matter what he was really like? She had a duty to perform. Still, Maryam reached her hand out more cheerfully than she expected. His hand covered hers as he bowed over it.
“I’m sorry things were done so haphazardly,” Maryam said. “That doesn’t mean I can’t welcome you properly, Champion. I am honored to be your lady for this time of favor.” She kept her tone formal. She might not be dressed properly, but she could speak the part.
“You might as well call me Ulrich.”
She suppressed a sigh. Very well. So much for trying to preserve the niceties. Probably everything she’d seen in Ulrich was just her own imagination. She’d seen him enter the castle far too often. She’d seen how little the other women cared for his company. Why was she trying to find any more in him than anyone else had?
“Would you like to come to our welcome dinner or to the private chambers?” This was always the champion’s choice.
Ulrich’s smile wasn’t a particularly reassuring sight. Neither were his words. “I’ve had welcome dinners before. I haven’t had you. Let’s go to the private chambers.”
Now. Finally. Quinn strapped his sword belt a little tighter against his waist, feeling the familiar hot gnawing inside his guts. He’d probably expended too much energy in the tournament.
He let out a short bark of laughter. As if it mattered. When it didn’t matter if you lived or died, you could afford to throw yourself into combat, even the mock combat a tournament provided. He’d come in second, only because Ulrich had the stamina of an ox. Intense, directed fury beat against Ulrich and then fell away in defeat. None of Quinn’s tricks or even his direct assault could move Ulrich.
But the Ruler had smiled on him anyhow. What were the odds that coming in second could still gain you what you wished?
Perhaps he hadn’t quite gained all he wished yet. But he was finally one step closer to his desires than he had been ever since his sickness began.
“Quinn, come with me. The women will see you now.” The herald bowed low. “You are a fortunate man.”
“Oh ay, Lucky Quinn they call me.” He held his hand casually against his hip, hoping he wouldn’t have to press hard against the pain that had begun to kick in again.
They did indeed use to call him Lucky, not too long ago.
* * * * *
Ulrich followed her down the long hall to the bedroom they would share for the week. The click of her heels came a half second before the heavier thump of his boots.
What had he been thinking? Ladies like Maryam didn’t like being rushed to bed. How could he explain that if he had to wait and make polite chatter, he was afraid he’d never be able to get to the sticking point?
He’d never been afraid of the sticking point before. But Lady Maryam was different from the other women. Her eyes looked wise, experienced. Her manner was polite, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking behind that courteous reserve. He knew how the other women saw him--how their lips tightened and their smiles grew too polite when he tried to talk to them. Females! Who knew what to say to them? He’d given up trying with the rest.
But the others were little…trifles. Maryam was a real lady. He’d hate to fail with her.
Maryam opened the door to their room and inclined her head. “After you.”
Ulrich stepped in, automatically scanning the room for enemies. Habit was a hard thing to shake. He was a soldier, first and always. A soldier for the nation of Sylvania. Soldiers expected ambush and danger while they fought for their country and their honor. Soldiers might not be good at the niceties that women liked, but they knew how to fight.
Ulrich realized that there was a little knot of tension between his shoulder blades, almost the way he felt before entering battle. He tilted his jaw up, ready to face his latest opponent.
“Well, Ulrich. You didn’t want any preliminaries.” Maryam shut the door. “Shall we get to it?”
“Excuse me?”
“Shall we strip and get on with why you’re here?” Her foot almost tapped the floor. “You don’t seem to care about anything else.”
She was much more direct than he’d expected. Ulrich realized his mouth had gone dry. Worse yet, his cock--the one that had been slyly reminding him that the lady was very attractive, even in her clothes--suddenly refused to cooperate.
Curse it, was he going to start the day being accused of infertility and end it showing himself impotent? The thought did nothing to ease the dryness of his throat. Ulrich cleared it, trying desperately to buy time.
“Er, no.” He cleared his throat again. “I mean, I’d prefer to get to know you a bit, Lady Maryam.” Inspiration struck. “If you want to. I’ll be guided by you.”
He’d been told women loved to be deferred to. Ulrich had never had the need to try out the theory, but he gambled on it now. Time. Just a little time was all he needed to--to remind his cock of the delights of fucking.
Before his eyes he saw a regal Lady Maryam melt into a smiling woman who swept up her skirt and sat in the chair before him. He stared down, watching an expensive anklet glitter, enticing him to stare at her ankle as she twitched her foot. Lady Maryam had beautiful, tiny feet.
“What a pleasant surprise!” Her laugh was as musical as the chiming bells circling her ankle. “I had no idea such a stern warrior would be willing to listen to a woman’s desires.”
Ha! He’d done something right. The lady was happy with him. He stared at the dark sparkle of her eyes, feeling the tension uncoil from his shoulders. The feeling didn’t leave entirely, however. Instead a new, more pleasurable tension began pooling in his balls.
He shifted, uncomfortably. Lust was starting to build inside him.
But his cock still wasn’t responding as it should. And Lady Maryam was staring at him, a slight frown on her face.
Had he displeased her? Yet another woman? Deuce, they were hard to satisfy.
“Is something wrong, Ulrich?” She sounded a little like some of his old commanders, ordering a reply.
“No, Gener--err, Lady Maryam. Nothing.” If his cock would just obey his own commands!
“Something.” She kept frowning. She stood up and he fought a sudden urge to cringe.
He suspected a lady would not take kindly to discovering a man had lost his desire for her. Curse it, though, he hadn’t. The closer she came toward him, the faster his breath quickened. He could feel his palms itching with the need to touch, to simply strip the clothing from her and fuck her as she’d originally suggested. His heart was racing at the idea of being with her.
It was just his foolish cock that didn’t spring to life.
She put her hands on his shoulders. He fought to stay impassive as she looked him over. She smelled…sensual. His nostrils flared a little, trying to sniff without looking too obvious.
Lady Maryam smiled at him a split second before her hand reached out to curl around his cock.
“I see you may need a little persuasion, sir.” Her voice didn’t hold the derision he’d expected. Instead it sounded as warm and kind as the women of his dreams. But they were only fantasies. Real women expected more than what he was currently offering.
“Only there, lady. T-Truly, I think you’re frighteningly desirable.” He stuttered like a child.
She lay a finger on his cheek. Her other hand still gripped his cock.
“Perhaps I should be less frightening and more desirable.” She leaned her head forward, just a fraction. He responded, moving his own head forward.
Her lips brushed his and he almost sighed. His cock gave the slightest stir, as if in approval. Then her tongue pressed open his lips, licked the inner sides of them lightly.
“More.” She breathed the word inside his mouth.
More indeed. As if by magic, his staff began to thicken, harden. He could have wept in relief and gratitude and sheer desire. He felt her body mold harder against him, her hands press his hardening cock just a little more forcefully.
His own hands were free. As his cock obeyed Lady Maryam’s orders, his hands seemed to take on a mind of their own. Almost stunned, he saw them grip Lady Maryam’s dress and rip the fabric apart.
The material floated down her skin, puddling on the floor. They both stared down at his destruction for a long moment.
“I--I’m sorry.” Ulrich gulped.
“Why? Aren’t you merely doing what I asked in the first place?” She didn’t sound angry at all. In fact, there seemed to be a catch in her own voice. As if she was excited by his deed.
His cock leapt at those words, as if it had never hesitated before.
“Be careful, Lady Maryam. I wouldn’t wish to hurt you.” He almost feared he might. He wanted to do more than rip at her clothes now. He wanted to tear into her.
She laughed against his neck, never letting up the pressure on his cock.
“Be careful I don’t hurt you, Ulrich. It’s been a very long time and I have a great deal--” she gripped and loosened and his cock bobbed up and down eagerly--”to make up for.”
He hesitated only a half-second more before he picked her up. She was light--almost as light as his biggest prized hund. He had a feeling Lady Maryam would not appreciate the thought. As light as a child, he amended the idea in his head. He could have carried her miles, easily, so long as a bed was at the end of their journey.
Fortunately, the bed was much closer. His strength could have lasted for miles with her to carry, but not his patience. Not to mention his cock. He was already finding it hard to walk easily as his erection sprang into full strength. Ulrich laid her down, carefully, and stared at her. Her eyes were half-shut as she looked right back. He shifted his feet.
Would it be wrong to spring on her and gobble her up? He suddenly, desperately wanted to do so. Ulrich let out one short, hard breath through his nose. He was sure the lady expected much better.
Maryam stretched out, lazily, and reached up one hand. “Are you going to waste the whole time gawking at me? You could get a much closer look here on the bed.”
He flung himself down, ignoring the sudden creaking protest of the bed. His fingers fumbled suddenly with his weapons--though discarding his weapons was as familiar to him as wielding those weapons. Maryam’s hands closed over his, unbuckling his sword belt, brushing just lightly against his groin.
He shut his eyes and fought back a moan. He heard what sounded like a giggle from Maryam and he opened his eyes again. She was draping his belt over the bedposts and smirking at him. Yes, it was most certainly a smirk.
“I see you’re eager, sir.” She began to unlace her corset and Ulrich forgot whatever response he intended. Her breasts were--they were--he wished he knew of a word grand and fine enough for her breasts.
He never again wanted to see the tiny bosoms of some of the young twits he’d been with. This was what a man wanted. A good handful, large enough to bury a head against. Those were breasts that could pillow and nourish a child. Could pillow and nourish a man as well. He imagined running his stubbled chin against the softness he saw there.
“Beautiful.” He breathed out the word. ‘Twas all he could manage and not enough, but the lady seemed pleased.
Her smile flashed out again and she crouched over him, her breasts spilling close to his mouth, pouring out of the half-opened corset. His cock grew harder than he’d ever imagined it could as she stripped him of his pants.
“You like my breasts?” she whispered against his jaw. “Then sample them. They’re yours after all. I’ve given you my favor.”
By the Ruler. He let his tongue run over one nipple. Taut but soft. Absolutely perfect. A treat beyond compare. Well, except for something else that might be tight and soft. How long did he have to wait before he could find out even more about Maryam?
As if she could read his thoughts, her thighs straddled him. “That is quite enough foreplay. You see, I have several years’ abstinence to make up. I thought I had done well enough without sex, but now that I see the treat before me--well, I realize I don’t want to wait any longer to have more.”
He almost came then. Ulrich fought himself, more fiercely than he could ever remember. He wanted to spend at the first light touch of her clitoris against his cock, more than he’d wanted to pass out after being wounded in battle, more than the time he thirsted for water while the sniper was waiting for him above the tiny Hinterlands oasis. By the Ruler, he thought he had more control of his body by now.
But this was Maryam who had control. Maryam who had his body in her very capable hands…and pussy. A Maryam who slid over him, quick and warm and tight, even better than his imaginings. She sighed as they joined at the same time he did. ‘Twas as if she was made for him.
He dug his hands into her sweet ass as she began to raise and lower herself. Lust, hot and hungry, boiled. Ulrich began to breathe through his nose yet again. He was quite certain this lady would have something to say to him if he disappointed her.
He would die rather than disappoint her.
She began making small noises in the back of her throat. Ulrich shuddered. He’d heard such sounds before but never had they sounded so urgent, so right. Desire poured over him, out of him, through him, into Maryam, who was moaning outright now. The bed rocked. Lurched across the floor. Curse the bed. If it broke, they had the floor. He gripped her hips harder, fiercely pulled her down.
She was so wet. Her passionate whimpers were so good.
“Oh, lady!” He got the words from his mouth before blind red heat covered him completely and he burst inside his lady’s luscious body.
* * * * *
He woke up, his nose nuzzling into something soft. Musky smelling. Female.
Mio’s morning hard-on perked up interestedly as
he opened his eyes. Still there. The female was still there. His cock wanted to make sure.
She had promised. Anytime. Every time. He could slip between those smooth, soft folds, feel that gripping warm wetness. His cock was already pressing against her entrance. The female gave a sleepy grumble but didn’t pull away. No. Not the female. Jewel. His female.
Mio cautiously braced his arms and slipped his inquiring cock in. Just a little.
She still felt good.
He ached as if someone had beaten him with a cudgel, but his pains didn’t matter. His rod was already stiff and hungry for more action.
“Wha--?” Her eyes opened. She stared into his eyes with a look of shock. Then she recognized him. They kept staring. Mio swallowed just as she did. Did she feel the way he did? He wasn’t even sure what he felt. Whatever the sensation was, it was disturbing. Too strong, too overpowering. “Oh. Again?”
“Absolutely.” The emotion was also too good to ignore.
“At this rate we’ll never be on our way.”
At this rate we’ll be caught by one of the other men who hang about the keep. We’re still too close.
Mio scowled at the reappearance of common sense. He’d rather be a horny loon who got to fuck a willing maiden over and over again under the trees.
Trees that could shelter other horny loons with better weapons and intact limbs. That was bad enough. Perhaps even worse, those trees also held vines that could twine around the unsuspecting and crush them. Hadn’t he hacked one of those very same tough vines down to make the trap that had caught Jewel? A live vine wouldn’t allow him to save her so easily. You couldn’t negotiate with nature.
A soft brushing traced against his back, skittering wildly until it found a home on his shoulder, far too close to his neck. He froze. A Handmaiden of Death vine? They flourished all through this part of the forest.
“You have a leaf on you,” Jewel told him. “Shall I brush it off?”
Mio nodded, unable to speak. When her hand touched his back, his cock’s head nodded happily. Obviously not even throat-drying fear could weaken his cock. Mio firmed his jaw. No matter what the temptation, they did have important things to do. Blast it.