Warprize (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards, 5)(MFMMMMMM)

by Georgia Fox

  Cedney took his place behind the woman, grabbed her around the thighs and dove in with enthusiasm. Dom laughed hoarsely.

  "There you go! Enjoy the treat. Get your tongue up in her and make her howl like a wolf at the moon."

  He worked his cock rapidly as he watched. Then he reached over with his free hand and touched Cedney's gold-tipped hair. Couldn't help himself. He pretended he was moving the young man's head slightly to one side so that he could get a better view of his mouth plundering the groaning wench's juicy cunt.

  "Yes, yes! Look at her coming." He slapped the woman on the arse again, watching as Cedney closed his eyes and buried his fine features between those quivering, crimson folds.

  The fellow apparently knew the way to a woman's pearl already. At least, it would seem so, from the wild, bestial noises now coming out of the shuddering wench.

  But no sooner had her tremors started again, than Cedney took his mouth off her pussy and looked again at Dom's cock.

  A moment of panic—rare in his life—swept through the heart of that notorious, mercenary warrior, Dominigo d'Anzeray. This was not what he was meant to be doing. He had planned to leave the complaining Lady Rosamund there and go about his business, to find a wife— one to join the harem he and his brothers were working on.

  He was not supposed to be falling into lust with another man. What good would that do?

  With all these thoughts churning through his mind, he watched in a daze, as Cedney Bloodwynne bent that sunny head and put those wet lips around the swollen crest of his cock.

  Chapter Five

  She had to do it. Her arousal had reached fever pitch and could only now be sated by a taste of his seed. By making him her plaything to be devoured. Cedney was ravenous. Why should she not have some pleasure for once? Always she was the one watching, the one who could not participate. Tonight, with this glorious example of manhood, she would enjoy herself.

  And so she took his shaft into her mouth and felt it warm and powerful, his pulse thudding away through the full length. She nuzzled his balls and inhaled the glorious manly scent of him. Already he was wet at the tip and once she began sucking in earnest he growled and grabbed her head between his large hands, his hips jerking.

  He was fucking her mouth, her throat, thrusting in and out, the breath rasping out of him. Cedney felt her pussy tensing with need. Oh how she would beg to have this beautiful cock deep inside her. It was a good thing, therefore, that her mouth was currently filled and could not speak a word.

  Her father's ghost would just have to forgive her for this. There was nothing else for it. She had to get this desire out of her blood and be sated.

  Rufus Redbeard grunted fiercely and fell back to rest his weight on his hands, pressed into the dirt behind him. His groin writhed and his back arched. With a shout he came, spilling his creamy load into her throat.

  She could barely swallow it all as it came so quickly and there was a great quantity of it. Some oozed from the corner of her lips, tickling down her chin, until Rufus swept his broad thumb across her skin and wiped it clean. He was panting hard, gazing down at her, his eyes afire. His grip tightened around her chin, not letting her look away.

  What had she done?

  Shockingly enough, she didn't care.

  After a few moments, he managed words. "Now you must get your fulfillment as I have had mine."

  She wasn't sure what he meant, but then he released her chin and moved to where Alaya waited on her knees, her sopping wet pussy still up in the air.

  "Fill the wench, eh? You're the only one of us who hasn't had the pleasure of a climax yet. We can't allow you to go unsatisfied, Bloodwynne." But there was an odd light in his eyes now when he looked at her and his tone had changed, hardened. "If you give me a while I'll soon be ready again and we can share her if you like. My cock up her arse and yours in her cunt."

  She stared. In her time Cedney had witnessed many things between soldiers and she had seen two men on one woman before. It was a sight that made her pussy wet and her throat dry. Although she'd often tried to look away, her eyes refused to cooperate.

  "You mean, together?"

  "Yes, indeed. A treat for the groom and the uncle of the bride."

  "Me in her pussy and you in her bottom?"

  "Unless you'd like it the other way about?" He sounded breathless as he looked down her body to the apex of Cedney's thighs.

  Other way about? To what did he refer? At first she thought he was trying to find something out about her preferences. But suddenly, when he smirked knowingly, she realized he already thought he knew what those preferences were. Was Rufus now suggesting that he put his cock in something of hers?

  Dear God, had she given herself away?

  * * * *

  That cheek was too damn smooth. It had clearly never been shaved and when Dom felt the softness under the pad of his thumb as he wiped away the line of spilled semen from that small, round chin, he finally had it confirmed.

  Cedney Bloodwynne was not what he seemed. Or mayhap it should be said that he was exactly what "he" seemed, for Dom had sensed it from the first meeting. He just hadn't known how it was possible— how these Saxons could have thought to fool him. Although, of course, they hadn't expected Dominigo d'Anzeray, had they? Rufus Redbeard might have been more easily tricked into believing that Cedney Bloodwynne was a man. Redbeard certainly hadn't proved himself to be very clever in the short time Dom had known him.

  But how the devil had this fine looking woman passed herself off as a male all these years? Perhaps the people here were blind. On purpose. It could be the only explanation.

  That, or else they ate a lot of those magical mushrooms that he'd heard grew in the marshes nearby.

  Yet the king too had been deceived.

  Dom didn't know how he felt about this development. Was he relieved? Amused? Angry that she thought to fool him? Or simply intrigued?

  One thing was certain —he was further aroused.

  After emptying himself so lavishly into her mouth only moments before, he should be limp now, but his cock was not acting as if it had spent at all. The needy ache remained, a low steady throbbing continued, deep in his loins.

  He looked at Cedney Bloodwynne's lips and wanted to kiss them. Would she try to fight him off? His gaze moved down over the front of her tunic and he thought he ascertained a slight swell where her breasts should be, but clearly she covered them well, got them bound perhaps. There was something down the front of her breeches. As Dom stared at it, she covered the bulge with her hand and adjusted it, just as if it was indeed a cock. He suspected it was a piece of wood or a turnip perhaps. Certainly if he got his hands on it he'd know.

  This might be even more entertaining than he'd previously thought. How much longer did she think to get away with her ruse in front of him?

  "Go on, my lord," he said carefully. "Get your prick out and give the wench a sound rutting. I'm sure you want to."

  Cedney had eased back on her parted knees and was wiping her mouth on her sleeve. "No. I don't think I should tonight."

  "You don't think you should?" Dom struggled to restrain a chuckle.

  "I need my rest. For the hunt tomorrow. And the wedding night."

  "Sometimes a good, hard fucking helps a man clear his head. Exercises his muscles too and keeps them in condition."

  "Is that so?" she muttered.

  "It works for me." He grinned. "See?" Dom held his cock and then ran his fingers languidly over the growing length. Her cornflower eyes followed the motion hungrily. "I'm already getting hard again as I think about the two of us doing it together." He was too, it was quite true, and the plump, willing wench with her gown tossed over her back was not even part of the image racing through his mind. It was only him and this young woman who thought to make a fool of a d'Anzeray. Naughty, cunning wench.

  Leaning forward, he reached out with his other hand and grabbed Cedney's "bulge". "You're hard too, my lord. Hard as a rock." The thing did not move at
all, but sat heavily in his hand. It might have fooled some, but not him. He knew a dead thing from a living one.

  He rubbed it with his palm and the lying young woman stared at him. "How dare you touch me this way?" she whispered harshly.

  He laughed at her pretend outrage. "You just sucked the froth off my full tankard, Bloodwynne. Do I not get to return the favor?"

  "No." She pushed his hand away. "I...think I'll retire." She stood, brushed down her knees and then said gruffly, "Good eve to you, Redbeard."

  He watched her hurry off, arms at her sides, the stride impatient and forceful. Manly. Beside him on the ground, the other wench finally sat up, pulling her gown over her legs.

  "Your ealdorman is a strange character, is he not?" Dom asked.

  "Lord Cedney is a fine man, hardworking, just and fair. But he never wants the company of women. Believe me," she sighed, "we've all tried."

  Dom rubbed a finger over his lower lip. "Now he is to be married though."

  "Aye and he will treat your niece well, sir, if that's what worries you. She'll want for nothing."

  Except a cock, he mused to himself.

  * * * *

  She went directly to her bedchamber—the only private place on the entire manor. It had once belonged to her father, of course, and Hereward was a great believer in having time to himself. Cedney could remember seeing her father's counselors gathered impatiently outside his door in the morning, waiting to confer with him on matters of the estate, while he sat within silently pondering his own thoughts.

  In times of personal crisis, he used to say to her, a man is his own best counsel.

  So she lay on her bed and thought deeply about this Rufus Redbeard who had made her act like a wanton. He was not her first personal crisis, but he was possibly the worst and certainly this had gone further than her attractions had ever drawn her before. The taste of his essence remained on her tongue. Oh, why could she not have resisted? She should never have followed him outside the hall, for once she saw him fucking the other woman all was lost.

  Envy was her undoing. Envy, jealousy and lust.

  Her father used to say there was no creature more jealous than a woman.

  A woman. For the first time in her one and twenty years, Cedney had felt like a woman that evening. Not just for a few fleeting moments of shame, but with every part of herself— inside and out. And she had not felt ashamed while it was happening.

  Even now she was hot inside, a heaviness in her loins promising to give her a restless night. Her nipples ached and stood to alert. She thought of Alaya's pussy and how wet it had been. Eager to prove herself a man, she'd licked and tickled that woman to orgasm and it was not unpleasant, but most of her delight in the act had come from knowing Rufus watched and that he was clearly sexually aroused by it. She'd very much enjoyed making him that excited and when he spent in her mouth it was most satisfying to know she'd caused that to happen.

  His was the first cock she'd sucked. Soldiers were a lusty lot and when there were no women around, they took what they could get, but Cedney, as lord of the manor, held "himself" above all that. He did not ban it from happening, or even raise an eyebrow when he saw it. But he did not join in—not physically. Amongst her fyrdsmen she'd always bluffed her way through rowdy jokes and chatter about sex, laughing as loud as any, making up tales and boasting of her own exploits.

  In her time she'd seen plenty and heard even more, but Rufus, no doubt, had new stories to tell. Outrageous stories.

  She slid a hand between her legs and under her nightshift. Dear lord she was sticky, her pussy yearning for what it couldn't have. Groaning softly she rubbed two fingers over her labia, lifting her bottom a few inches off the bed as she did so, and closing her eyes to picture Rufus Redbeard, pounding roughly, desperately into her cunny. It didn't take long at all for the fluttering to reach a maddened blur that made her sex tighten and her bottom tremble, but when she sank back to the bed and wiped herself on her shift, she knew it was not as good as it would have been with Rufus buried balls deep inside her.

  Alas, it simply couldn't happen. She had promised her father to keep the manor in the Bloodwynne name, therefore Rufus could never know the truth. He might think he knew now, but she would assure him he was mistaken, that was all. Tomorrow she would amend the mistake and leave him in no doubt.

  In two days she was to marry Lady Rosamund and somehow, soon, she would find a way to get her wife impregnated. Hopefully with a male child to continue the Bloodwynne name.

  A convent raised, very proper, noble young lady like Rosamund ought to know nothing about fornication, and Cedney should be able to get by with a little subterfuge in bed. She could give her wife pleasure without penetration. Then she would find a man willing to hire out his cock for an evening. Men were lusty beasts, so how hard could it be to find one willing to fuck for a few favors in return— something from the Bloodwynne coffers? She had considerable wealth that the king did not know about, for her father had kept it well hidden. A little of it may as well be used to help continue her charade.

  But now she had another large problem, in the shape of suspicious, arousing, difficult Rufus Redbeard. Tomorrow she must act as if nothing had occurred between them. She'd seen that questioning look in men's eyes before and quickly learned how to remove it. For some reason, with this stranger, she had felt powerless, unable to keep up the pretense. But tomorrow that would change. For the sake of her marriage and the future of the manor, she must put all questions out of Rufus Redbeard's mind. She didn't want him taking his rich niece and her dowry away again, then taking his dangerous suspicions to the king.

  Furious with herself, she flipped over violently, planting her face into the straw-stuffed bed. It wasn't as if she wanted a damned wife, but she had to have one. The king had decreed it and sent this ill-mannered, chatty Norman pigeon to fulfill the role. There was no way out. It was clear to see why no one else wanted Rosamund and she'd been handed off to a Saxon.

  But Cedney refused to be vanquished. She had fooled a king, a court, and half a dozen Norman soldiers she'd once joined in a drunken orgy. Neither Rosamund nor her uncle Rufus would bring it all tumbling down.

  She sat up on her knees and stared at the fluttering candles beside her bed. It was no good; she could not sleep. Her mind was restless, as was her body.

  Why wait until morning to settle his suspicions? Better it be done now.

  Leaping off her bed, she quickly pulled on her long robe, fastened it with a belt and went to her door. As always, a guard stood in the passage.

  "Where is Rufus Barberousse?" Cedney demanded.

  "He sleeps on a pallet in the great hall, my lord."

  "I see." She half turned away, losing some of her resolve at the thought of him laid down. But then she turned back to the guard. "Send for him. I wish to discuss the matter of his niece's dowry."

  It might seem odd to have such a conversation in the middle of the night, she mused, but she was the lord of the manor and could do as she pleased. In any case, it would be wise to keep an eye on that man. She didn't want him wandering around the place, prying. Or finding any other women to fuck.

  As for her other reasons in calling him to her chamber, she was quite sure there were none.

  Chapter Six

  He was startled when the guard told him he was required in the young lord's chamber. Dom had not been asleep, merely lying on his back, arms behind his head, staring up at the stars through the smoke-hole in the roof of the great hall and thinking about Cedney Bloodwynne's lips. He was grateful, in fact, for the interruption. Without a doubt, sleep would have evaded him that night with so many thoughts spinning unruly tangles in his mind.

  The guard showed him to Bloodwynne's room and closed the door behind him with a heavy thud.

  "I hope I did not disturb you," said the lying, deceitful woman. She wore a long, thick woolen robe over a night shift. All her parts were well hidden.

  "I was not asleep," he assured her. "I had too mu
ch upon my mind. As, it seems, you do too."

  Her eyes widened— in the warm firelight they seemed even brighter— and then she gestured toward a small table by the fire. "Do you play chess, Redbeard?"

  Chess? She called him there to play chess? Dom scratched his cheek. "Some. I am not well practiced though."

  She smiled and he knew she was glad about that. The wench plainly thought to beat him at it. To beat him at all her games. "Please, sit."

  So he did, watching as she took the chair across the table. "The guard said you wished to discuss the Lady Rosamund's dowry."

  Her tongue darted out, sliding hastily from left to right, leaving a damp shine on the rose-pink lower lip. Dom's cock was instantly hard again, necessitating a shift in his chair. "Oh, I am content with the dowry I was offered," she said. "But I wondered...why the king saw fit to send her to me. After all, she is Norman and nobly born. I am Saxon and my manor is not so very rich. Perhaps you, as her uncle, can enlighten me."

  Aha, so she still tested him, doubted his identity. "The king thinks highly of you, Bloodwynne. And he is a just ruler. You may be Saxon, but you have pledged your fealty to him. Lady Rosamund, I suppose, is your reward." Dom knew it was the Norman king's hope to see the two opposing sides joining together, to bring peace and prosperity to the land. If they remained always at war the country would suffer. Unlike his brothers, who paid no particular heed to politics, Dom was always intrigued by the way men's minds worked. Now he wondered, for the first time, at the workings of a woman's mind.

  This woman who thought she could be a man.

  He glanced down at the readied chessboard. "Who goes first, Bloodwynne? You or I?"

  "As my guest you may proceed."

  Evidently she was confident in her abilities. He made his first move, turning the board and choosing the black pieces for his own. "I have heard great things of your bravery in battle, Bloodwynne. The king is much impressed by you, I think."