by Ann Jacobs
His cock rose in salute. God’s teeth, but he wanted to fuck her, now. He cared not if she’d spoken true when she said she was Laird MacFarlane’s daughter. Whoever she was, she was his prisoner, ripe for plundering. His guest. Surety for the laird’s good behavior if he cared about her.
He’d not been able to drag his gaze off the pretty maid from the moment he dragged her into his saddle and brought her home. The glint in her eyes when she looked at him was distinctly lascivious.
She eyed him that way now as she stood in his bedchamber while he disrobed. Her velvety pink tongue darted out of her mouth as though she wanted to taste him.
“I would have you bathe me first. Then I shall take my pleasure of you.”
“Honor demands you protect my maidenhead.”
Will didn’t feel it necessary to point out that there were many ways for man and woman to pleasure each other that did not involve stealing a maid’s virginity. If Lady Margaret still possessed it—which he doubted from the way she stared at the prominent bulge in his chausses as though she could barely wait to feel his cock piercing the channel between her long, slender legs.
Sir William deVere was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Tall, powerful-looking, with golden skin and hair the color of a raven’s wing. His eyes, so dark they looked almost black, sparkled with good humor—and something more. In silvered chain mail, with a tunic of black and gold slung over his broad shoulder, and in the black chausses and simple tabard he’d just removed, he’d made her quim quiver. Just looking upon him now, watching his hard chest muscles ripple beneath that tawny sun-kissed skin while he untied the cross-garters that held up his braies, had her juices drizzling from the edges of the iron maiden she wore and down her inner thighs.
That he was one of a matched pair seemed too good to be true.
Lust practically stole Margaret’s reason when Will shot another dazzling smile her way. Did he wear jewels in his shaft, the way ‘twas rumored the earl did? She imagined the big knight’s cock pierced with glittering gold adornments much like the baubles she wore in her ears and quim. She’d find out soon enough what he looked like naked.
As she moved closer to him and the huge oaken tub, the dangling clasp to her girdle swung back and forth against her mound, clinking melodically against her chastity belt and setting off a fierce need in her belly. One that would nay be satisfied as long as she wore the damned device. In truth, her maidenhead would be inviolate as long as the key remained securely locked in her sire’s strongbox at the seat of Clan MacFarlane. As long as they held her here as surety for her father’s continued good behavior.
Still, Sir William could ease the aching in her breasts, the weeping of her cunt. And she had ways she could relieve his lust for as long as he held her hostage.
A willing prisoner she’d be, if she could entice Sir William into her lonely bed. No woman should have lost three betrothed husbands on the field of honor, or reached the ripe age of nineteen as yet unwed and unbedded, locked in a chastity belt to preserve her value as a marriage prize. She dropped down in a curtsy she knew provided him with a good view of her breasts, a glimpse of the pink areolae that ringed her aching nipples. “My lord, may I help divest you of the rest of your clothing?”
“‘Rise, that I may see you. And you may see me.”
No woman could resist him when he curled those sensual lips into a smile. Nor when he held out a callused, well-shaped hand to ease her up from her curtsy. When his gaze settled on her breasts, ‘twas as though he’d seared them with fire.
He bent, lifting his loose black shirt over his head. When she took it from him, she smelled the scent of woman. Another woman. Jealousy bubbled up in her, but when she saw how the muscles in his glistening hairless chest rippled, she cared not that he’d slaked his lust on someone else since he’d held her in his arms on the long ride to Summerfield Castle yestereve. “I will remove the rest. I wish to sink into yonder tub ere the water cools.”
The bulge of his sex caught and held her attention as it grew to massive proportions within his black knit chausses. She could not drag her gaze away.
“Like what you see, my lady? My sword salutes your beauty. And protests my own neglect of its special needs during battle and on my journey home.”
“You are—very large.” And she was very wet and becoming wetter by the moment.
His laughing eyes mocked her, made her nipples tighten and tingle within her gown. “‘Tis a benefit in battle, my lady.”
“I mean…” Sudden heat scalded her cheeks, and knowing her embarrassment must be evident turned her skin even hotter. “…your—”
“Cock? Ballocks? Do not tell me a lady whose eyes look upon them with such obvious interest cannot say the words?”
His amused look annoyed her. By the Lady she’d not let him intimidate her. She met and held his gaze. “Cock. Ballocks. They seem unusually large.”
“The better to give you pleasure when we fuck, sweeting. Come, remove the last of my garments and you may see how hot and ready you’ve made me. Then I would have you join me in my tub.”
She knelt, loosed the cross-garters that held his braies to hard-muscled, shapely calves. Then, slowly, she skimmed her fingers up the outsides of his rock-hard thighs…over narrow hips. Full of anticipation for what she’d discover, Margaret hooked her thumbs into the fabric on each side of his waist and tugged the stretchy material down.
His cock sprang free, long, thick, and throbbing, curling gently upward toward his navel. The rumors about the lords of Summerfield apparently were true, for Sir William’s huge, throbbing rod had no foreskin. It bore a thick gold bar that passed horizontally through its purplish, plumlike head. A row of glistening gold balls winked all around the prominent corona, inviting her gaze, her touch. A pearly drop of lubrication had already gathered in the slit at its tip.
Margaret’s mouth watered with the need to taste that tempting liquid, to run her tongue along the long, thick column of his shaft and trace its distended, pulsating veins. His large pink seed sac made a luscious velvety cushion for the four pairs of ruby studs that marched down its center, and her fingers itched to caress that softness, to feel the cool smooth surface of the cabochon rubies in each end of the thick bar. “‘Tis a beautiful cock, indeed.” Leaning forward, intent on licking away that intriguing droplet of moisture, she couldn’t resist asking, “Why do you embellish it so?”
“I am glad I please you, sweeting. As for the jewels, Gavin and I were each given a unique piercing as babes, and we chose to emulate our sire as we grew to manhood. An infidel prince had ordered him circumcised and pierced when he was captured as a youth.” He paused, lifting his stiff rod by the bar that passed through its head. “I was circumcised and pierced here, and a small bar was placed through my cock soon after our birth, so all might distinguish me from Gavin, who was pierced in the same way as our lord father. The bars were changed frequently for thicker, longer ones as I grew. Once I achieved manhood, I added additional jewels.”
“Do the piercings not hurt you?”
“Nay. They cause no pain once the wounds have healed.”
“Your brother and father are pierced differently?”
He held up his rod again, indicating that intriguing slit in its very tip. “They wear a captive ring that passes through this slit and exits on the underside of their cocks, just in front of the corona.”
In truth, Margaret liked the glittering look of Will’s mighty sword. “Do the piercings enhance…?”
“The jewelry is said to make lovers’ pleasure more intense. I can only vouch for the fact that it heightens my own sensations.” His hand on her head urged her forward, as though he wanted her to take him in her mouth. Then he pulled back. “Come, I would bathe first. Disrobe for me.”
“I should not…” But his hot gaze scalded her, compelled her to loosen her golden girdle and lift off her plaid and the plain woolen gown beneath it. She stood in her shift, shivering not so much from the chill of the ro
om as from her reluctance for him to see her shame—the prison far more confining than the luxuriously appointed solar here at Summerfield Castle where he’d ordered her to be held under guard.
“I would see you. All of you.” He stood in the tub, water lapping about his muscular calves. His huge cock saluted her, rearing up from his hairless groin toward the ridged muscles of his belly. Its golden studs glowed in the candlelight, held her gaze. “Disrobe. Now, ere the water cools.”
Perhaps since he removed his own pubic curls, he’d not mind that her own quim was bare as a babe’s, its fiery bush having been removed before her old nursemaid had fitted the rigid gold device between her stinging labia and locked the belt securely about her hips. Slowly, listening for his reaction, she lifted her shift, baring herself to the big knight’s lusty gaze.
“You, too, are pierced.” His harsh intake of breath could have meant he liked what he saw…or that he did not. Only when she tossed away her garment and looked into his obsidian eyes did she know for certain. Sir William apparently welcomed a challenge—the challenge presented by the glittering gold device her father had ordered locked about her waist ere sending her to be captured by the powerful Earl of Summerfield. And the dangling clit ring that served as extra security against randy would-be lovers.
‘‘Twill ensure you nay return with a deVere bastard in your belly, girl,” he’d said when she protested. Margaret was none too certain that was true when she saw the glint in Will’s dark eyes.
Will chuckled. “I’ve yet to find an iron maiden that can defeat me, sweeting. Come, let us play in the bath.”
“And if I do not wish to join you, my lord?” she asked as she stepped closer to his tub.
He smiled, showing her straight white teeth and an inviting rose-pink tongue she could practically feel lapping at her pebbled nipples. “Then you must pay a forfeit. Know you not the rules of the game?”
“What would you have of me? I possess naught but myself, not even an extra plaid to protect me from the chill in the night air.”
“I wish a gift of gold.” His gaze settled between her legs, upon the golden ring that pierced her love button and held it out from a small round hole in the gold shield. “Perhaps I will take the one that pierces your tempting clit.”
She moved to the tub and stepped onto the wooden stair, then paused so he could see. “‘Tis welded shut, my lord. If you want it, you must tear away my flesh as well.”
Smiling, he slipped a finger through the dangling ring, tweaking the hard little nub and making more of her hot, slick honey slither down her thighs. “That would be a tragedy, my little one, to hurt such precious flesh as this. I could always summon my lord father’s armorer and have him break the weld. But I know many ways to give you pleasure. Ways that do not require that I remove this pretty ornament or the cruel device it helps to hold in place. We shall explore them all.”
“But your pleasure, my lord? Would you let me satisfy you with my hands?”
He reached further between her legs and ringed her puckered rear entrance with a callused fingertip. “You possess two other holes as well as your soft, gentle hands. I plan to make good use of them all. Come, join me. Help me scrub away the stench of the hunt.”
As she stepped into the water she laughed, a tinkling, merry sound that went not with her stern Christian name.
“I shall call you Meggie, for Margaret’s much too serious sounding for one as sensual as you.” God, but she made his cock stand at attention as few maidens could, his tastes having been jaded by serving girls who asked for naught but a quick fuck. Will stroked between her firm, silky legs, over the warm gold shield that left her pierced clit and puckered rear entrance unprotected, while it guarded the entrance to her sweet cunt.
Her soft moan at his touch had his balls drawing up, tightening in their sac. With one finger he delved beneath the iron maiden and felt the base of a rigid metal plug that stretched and filled her cunt as only a man’s cock or tongue should do. “What is this?”
“‘Twas my sire’s idea when he commissioned the device from the goldsmith in Edinburgh. To ready me for a man, he said.”
Will had always thought Laird MacFarlane a madman and thoroughly agreed with his lord father’s assessment that the man bore careful watching and would benefit from being skewered at the tip of some Summerfield steel. He couldn’t deny, though, that this particular one of the wily Scot’s ideas showed a certain fiendish cleverness. To restrain his daughter from fucking yet keep her hot and wet with the very device that prevented a lover from filling her cunt with himself, while incredibly cruel, had required intelligent thought. Such a device had possibilities in the torture chamber. Still, he could not imagine a father forcing such a cruel device on his own flesh and blood. “How long-”
“Three years. Since he caught me pleasuring myself one dreary winter day. Twenty-eight days since the ring you seem to like so well was inserted, ensuring that no man can easily remove the device even if he should manage to break the lock.”
A tempting proposition, to break that lock and take her fully! He’d do it, but first he’d teach her all the other pleasures he anticipated. Will rotated the clit ring, felt the weld that sealed it. The hole in the shield was too small to slide the ring through. Perhaps he could cut off the shield…
Mayhaps he’d let it stay. Bring her and himself to climax without penetrating her tight glory hole. At least for now.
Her sweet cream oozed from around the slender finger of gold, soaking his finger, perfuming the solar with the heady musk of man and woman and mutual arousal. Needing to taste her, he sank into the water, sitting cross-legged, the tip of his throbbing cock bobbing on the surface. “Spread your legs for me, Meggie. I would slake my hunger.”
She stood, her feet planted on either side of his straining hips, her satiny labia held open by the chastity belt. The ring in her clit swung back and forth, tantalizing him, tempting his tongue. Her firm inner thighs glistened with her fragrant juices, juices that smelled like woman: slightly salty and a little bit sweet, with a hint of some precious perfume from the East.
Will lapped her up, all the time toying with the clit ring and the tiny, rock-hard bundle of nerves it pierced. Gently he took that sensitive flesh into his mouth and suckled it, swirling his tongue around it then spearing it through the ring and tugging it beyond his lips, into the hot recesses of his mouth. God’s teeth, but she inflamed him. His balls throbbed painfully, as though they would burst if he didn’t gain release.
With his hands, he stroked her, coaxing out more of the tiny whimpers and moans that began deep in her chest and made their way slowly out of her mouth and into his ears. She tasted like heaven and hell, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to rip off the cruel device she wore and fuck her until they both fainted from the pleasure.
Instead he wet his fingers with her sweet honey and ran them around the puckered entrance to her ass. One finger slipped inside, then two. She tensed at what he guessed might have been an unfamiliar touch, then sighed. Her muscles relaxed, letting him sink his fingers into her rear entrance until his palm lay flush with the chastity belt.
The water rippled softly about them, the fragrance of evergreens and herbs perfuming the air, mingling with the musk of her arousal. Her high-pitched, breathy little cries when he splayed his fingers inside her tight rear passage urged him on. His cock throbbed harder. God’s blood, how he needed to fuck her. To bury himself deep in her lush body, between her full red lips…within the tight, throbbing confines of her ass.
As he drew her pierced love button deeper in his mouth, twisting its ring with his tongue, Will envied the gold that kept her sopping cunt inviolate. Her juices flooded his hand when he worked a third finger up her ass and began to thrust slowly in and out. Her moans told him she was close…as close as he to losing control, finding the pleasure they both sought.
He nipped her clit, then let it go and withdrew his fingers. “Turn around and kneel in the water. I want to fuck yo
ur pretty ass.” He came up on his knees, guided himself to her well-lubricated rear entrance, and grasped her hips. “Be not afraid, sweeting. I’ll go slowly, and you’ll love it. You’re wet. So wet. Have you ever taken a man’s cock like this?”
She trembled but leaned back, letting his cockhead press hard against her puckered opening. “Nay. But do not stop.”
When he pressed a bit harder, her flesh unfurled like a flower in spring, allowing his cockhead past the tight ring of muscle before contracting, squeezing him almost painfully as her body tried to expel him. The water lapped at his thighs and ass, its warmth surrounding his shaft, caressing her bare ass, wetting the gold belt about her rounded ass cheeks and making it glitter in the candlelight.
God’s teeth, ‘twould be a miracle if he held out for long. His seed boiled up in his balls, threatened to erupt as he lowered her slowly, steadily, until her incredibly tight ass was fully impaled on his throbbing shaft. Her moans, louder now, bespoke pleasure-and pain. Pain he had no desire to exacerbate by moving.
It took all his control to be still. Not to thrust and withdraw hard and fast until he exploded in a fiery climax. To keep from reaching around her and fondling her pretty, round breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers. He resisted nipping her slender neck with his teeth, instead bathing her nape with his tongue, soothing motions to make her forget the pain and renew her arousal. Her skin warmed, and her little whimpers intensified. God in heaven, he’d never before aroused a woman quite so easily.
Her nipples stabbed at his palms when he cupped her breasts. Her tight ass gripped his cock almost painfully. The ungiving warmth of gold pressing on his seed sac reminded him of what he could not have, making him want even more to invade that sweet hole, fill it with his essence.