Sir Michael jabbed him in the ribs. “I’ve never fallen asleep on the job yet,” he said lewdly. The tower door was opened before he finished knocking. He noticed with amusement that the copper-haired wench was already naked. There would be no games of playful reluctance, no need to coax her to a giving mood. Mick reached out and pulled her into his arms. Her impatient hands were on his chausses, aiding him in the swift removal of his clothes. Never in his life had he dallied with a wench who needed it so badly. While he was still shrugging from his doublet her arms went about his neck and she lifted herself onto his upthrusting erection. Her gyrations began immediately, and he realized they’d never make it to the narrow bed. He took firm hold of her buttocks, planted his legs securely to the floor, and moved her up and down on his engorged weapon. Soon she was doing most of the work. He didn’t even need to support her. She impaled herself upon him over and over.
Brenda grunted and groaned but not with pleasure. It was a wild, animalistic mating. A young man as lusty as de Burgh could not fail to respond to the raw sexuality of the female coupling with him. He felt his seed start, tried to hold out longer but couldn’t. As a result it spurted up inside of her in hot bursts … half a dozen before he was completely finished.
“Mick … please … again,” she begged.
He knew she had not reached her peak and hadn’t expected her to this first time. “Yes … again … hush now,” he soothed, lifting her and carrying her to the bed. The moment he was horizontal she was astride his thighs. Quick as a flash of mercury her tongue came out to lick the pearl drops of semen that still clung to him. His shaft suddenly awoke again and filled rapidly. He murmured thickly, “Perhaps if we take it slow this time …”
“No, no, Mick, please. I have to have it fast … hard and fast … please … hard and fast.”
The wench was almost incoherent in her need. From his experience a girl who could not reach her climax needed stimulation and play. He reached down a strong hand between her legs and slipped two fingers inside her, then encircled her hard little bud with the ball of his thumb. She screamed and writhed, mad with need. She built and built but nothing took her over the edge.
The stimulation was working on Mick much more rapidly. He was hard as marble. Pulling her beneath him, he mounted her with a savage thrust, while schooling himself to make it last this time. He thrust to the hilt, then withdrew all the way, each time stretching her further.
“Mick, fuck me faster, please,” she begged.
With a grimace he obeyed her command. The friction he built up with such fast and furious gyrations soon had its inevitable effect on him, and he exploded into her like a volcano spewing liquid fire. All his body’s tension melted away, leaving him limp and sated.
Brenda cried out her disappointment as he rolled off her. She came over him again, mounted his thick thigh, and ground her pubis over the hard, bulging saddle muscle. Christ, the wench really was insatiable. She only knew one word: “again.” It echoed through his brain, accusing him of failure. He pushed her off his leg and reached for his chausses. “I need some air,” he mumbled.
She sat in the middle of the bed, bereft. “You won’t come back,” she cried.
“Oh, I’ll return,” he said with grim determination. Mick emerged from the tower room and drew fresh cold air into his lungs in great gulps.
“That good, eh?” remarked Rickard. “Christ, I thought you were never corning out. I’m so hard I could crack walnuts with it.” He took off his chain-mail shirt and slipped it over his brother’s head. Then he handed him his sword. When Rickard opened the tower door, he fully expected to find the girl asleep, exhausted from his brother’s demands. He was delighted when the naked wench flew into his arms and her hand reached down, testing his readiness.
“Oh, Mick, thank you,” she sobbed.
“Rick, sweetheart,” he corrected, taking her luscious breast into his mouth and sucking hard on the nipple.
Dimly she remembered he had corrected her about his name before. “Oh, God, your name should be Dick, you’re so big,” she cried thankfully. She unfastened his chausses and slid down with them.
Rickard could feel her hot breath stirring his pubic hair. Her avid hands slid up the back of his legs. “I want it on the floor,” she said with a gasp.
“Christ, so do I,” he agreed, sinking down and lifting her widespread legs onto his shoulders. In a kneeling position he held her hips immobile in a viselike grip and pumped and bucked into her. Her cries of “harder” and “faster” brought him to a powerful climax, but she clamped the walls of her scalding sheath about him to keep him prisoner inside of her. “Rick, please, please, don’t withdraw,” she begged.
“My pleasure, sweetheart,” he assured her, already semiaroused again because of the girl’s insatiable desire for him. Still inside her, he lifted her with him until he was on his feet. Then as he supported her bottom with his hands, she wrapped her legs about his waist and thrust her tongue deeply into his mouth. He walked across the room bouncing her up and down on his cock until she was sobbing with frustration and raking his back with her nails.
“I don’t want to be teased, I want to be fucked!”
Rick stretched her out on the bed, towered above her, then drove himself to the hilt. His strokes were deep, lightning fast and savage. She arched her pelvis to meet every one of them, and Rick could not prevent his ejaculation. Though she again tried to hold him, this time it was impossible. He was too flaccid and she far too slippery. “I’m on guard duty tonight,” Rickard said hoarsely. “I must go and make the rounds again.”
“Promise me you’ll come back,” she pressed him urgently.
So far he had failed in his mission; there was no way he would quit the field. “I promise,” he swore.
The brothers stood shoulder to shoulder on the ramparts of Odiham. “This is no longer pleasure, it’s damned hard work. She’s like a bitch in heat, writhing on the floor.”
“Our reputations are at stake. What the hell are we going to do?” Rickard asked.
Mick squared his shoulders. “Double our efforts, ’tis a point of honor.” As he reentered the small tower room, the musky scent of mingled male and female carnality assailed his senses.
“Rick,” she purred possessively.
“Mick,” he corrected grimly, his nostrils flaring, his mind set upon the battle before him. He would breach the ramparts and accept nothing less than unconditional surrender.
Eleanor stole softly to the door that separated her apartment from the Earl of Pembroke’s, knocked politely, and entered before she could be denied. William fitted exactly the night thoughts that drifted in and out of her dreams. Since her childhood he had represented strength, protection, loving arms.
He wore a bedrobe and had been glancing over Odiham’s account books, tallying its income. He arose and came forward instantly. “Eleanor, is aught amiss?”
“No, my lord,” she breathed. “I-I don’t wish to be alone. I have decided to spend the night here with you.”
“My dear, that is impossible,” he said, stiffening.
“Why?” she asked, knowing full well it was not impossible, for here they were.
“It is wrong,” he stated flatly. The sophisticated young woman in the wimple and velvet gown had turned into a child in her nightclothes.
“Why is it wrong?” she questioned in ignorance. “We are married.”
“My dearest child, we are married in name only. You are far too young to be a wife.” He moved purposely to the connecting door and held it wide for her. “You do understand, don’t you, Eleanor?”
Her dark-blue eyes filled with tears and threatened to spill over. Her lips quivered. “No—no,” she whispered huskily, “I don’t understand at all.”
“Oh, sweet, I’ve made you weep. Don’t, please, it breaks my heart.” His arms went about her protectively and he drew her closer to the fire and took her into his lap. Why in the name of God wasn’t her mother here to tell her these thing
s? Then he repudiated the thought. The last person in the world he wanted to teach his bride about intimacy was Queen Isabella. He sighed and his big hand came up to smooth her unruly curls.
He had no one to blame but himself. He was the one who had insisted she be brought up as pure as the driven snow. He took a deep breath and plunged in. “The difference in our ages is so wide, I feel it would be selfish and unfair to ask a young girl of fifteen to share my bed.”
Her eyes were like liquid pools as she trustingly gazed up at him. She thought it would be heaven to share his bed and feel his strong arms about her in the lonely darkness. “I think I would like it. Can we not just try it for one night?” she begged softly.
He licked lips gone suddenly very dry. “Little one, you still don’t understand. When a marriage is consummated,” he began slowly, praying for words that would not repel her, “a man joins his body, in love, to his bride’s body. They become intimate.”
She digested this information solemnly for a few moments, then said, “I don’t think I’m too young for that, my lord. I should like to become intimate with you.”
In spite of his good intentions, William felt the hot blood flood his loins and he was appalled that his manhood was swelling against her soft buttocks. His mouth was now completely dry, and for a second or two he totally lost his train of thought as her words echoed inside his head. “I should like to become intimate with you … I should like to become intimate with you.” Why in the name of heaven and hell had he taken her upon his knee? He knew he should push her off before she felt him rising, but she would interpret it as rejection and he knew instinctively that she would more willingly absorb his gentle explanations while he held her in his arms in this warm, intimate position.
She looked up at him with liquid, trusting eyes, her pink lips parted slightly to catch her breath in her effort to spare him her tears. Lord God, it was exactly like the erotic dream he’d had of her last night. Upon waking it had vanished with the dawn, but now that his senses had been stirred, it came flooding back to him. In the dream he had taken her upon his lap and gently freed her breasts from the confines of her bedgown. Seeing them bared for the first time had been especially thrilling because he was aware that no man had ever done this to her before. He had drawn out his play, stroking and fondling, then cupping and weighing them in his palms, and finally lifting them to his hot mouth to tongue and suck the rosy nipples until they rouched and hardened into rosebuds.
Eleanor shifted her weight slightly in his lap and his shaft began to throb and rear with a will of its own. He came back to his senses when he realized with horror his hands were at the opening of her bedgown. In desperation he reached for a thought that would effectively cool his lust. A picture of his young wife’s mother flashed into his head. Amazingly, Isabella’s image worked its magic for him. In less than ten seconds his shaft shrank back inside its cowl, limp and harmless.
Further explanations were obviously necessary. “Eleanor,” he said gently, “when a man and woman’s bodies join, he plants his seed in her and she has a child.”
A great dawning light came into her face. A mystery had just been solved for her.
William added firmly, “And fifteen is too young to become a mother. I think even you must agree with me, now that I’ve explained it.”
Yes, she really did see that she would have to wait until she was sixteen.
As he brushed away her tears with gentle fingers, she said, “I’m sorry, William, I simply wanted us to spend the night together like Richard and Isabella.”
He put her from his knee. “Wherever did you get such a sinful notion?” he demanded, scandalized. “You must never, ever say things like that. Such a falsehood would create a royal scandal and ruin my sister.”
“It’s all right, William,” she hastily reassured him, “they commit no sin, they love each other.”
“They what?” he ground out, realizing Eleanor had innocently exposed her brother’s attempt at seduction. William flung open the door. “Where is my sister’s chamber?”
Suddenly Eleanor realized she should have kept her mouth shut. William was scandalized and was clearly determined to vent his anger on his poor sister. He strode into the west wing of Odiham and she had to run to keep up with him.
Breathlessly she cried, “My lord, I was mistaken. If it is wrong, then of course they aren’t spending the night together.”
Isabella lay against Richard’s heart. “Beloved, never fear, I will cherish you forever.” His fingers stroked her silken shoulders tenderly, trying to erase the guilt he had forced upon her. Suddenly someone was crashing a shoulder against their chamber door, and with disbelief Richard saw the wood splinter. He sprang from the bed naked and snatched up his sword, thinking Odiham had been attacked. William Marshal charged into the room like an enraged bull. Eleanor followed, her face as white as her velvet bedgown.
“Bones of Christ, what have you been doing to my sister?” William thundered.
“The same thing you’ve been doing to mine,” Richard shouted angrily at the undressed pair who had just invaded his chamber of love.
William advanced, ignoring the sword. “I should kill you for that remark. Unlike you, I know how to keep a check on my lust. My brains aren’t all in my prick!” He turned accusing eyes upon the woman in the bed clutching the covers to her nakedness, looking striken as if she wanted to die. “How could you break your vows … commit adultery?” he asked in outrage.
Richard lowered his weapon. “She had no choice, William. Isabella is blameless. I forced her.”
“You are no better than your filthy father!” William spat, not caring that he blackened John’s memory in front of Eleanor. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to put his hands about Richard’s throat and snuff the life from him. “Your father lost all his continental possessions because he was addicted to having a woman between his legs day and night!”
“Nay!” cried the woman in the bed. “Richard loves me.”
“A man will say anything so a woman will let him fuck her,” shouted William, who had never used such language before a woman in his life. He glared at Richard. “You are the governor of Gascony, the only corner of France that remains to us. ’tis time you departed for that country and began governing!”
Richard was stung, yet he could not deny the truth of the marshal’s words. “William, I do love her. I want to marry her.” His voice was solemn and sincere.
“You’ve both conveniently forgotten de Clare. ’tis a Plantagenet habit to steal other men’s wives.”
Richard stood his ground in the face of William Marshal’s rage. He said quietly, “We’ve been in love for five long years and controlled our need all that time. Tonight’s romantic atmosphere pushed us over the edge. I beg your pardon, William, I have abused your hospitality and brought dishonor to the woman I love. I shall relieve you of my odious presence within the hour. Gascony is where I should be. An ocean between us will keep me from temptation, but I charge you to lay no blame upon my sweet Isabella.”
After Richard quit the chamber, William turned accusing eyes upon his sister. “You were supposed to be a moral example for Eleanor. By God, if you’ve tainted her with your carnality …”
“Stop!” Eleanor cried. “Isabella is the gentlest, most respectable lady I’ve ever known. If it is a sin to love, then I commit it every day of my life, for I love you beyond reason, William. I can understand her need for Richard’s strong arms for I have the same need. You may think it wicked, but I would give anything to share your bed. However, for better or for worse, I am yours and I will obey you in everything. Good night, my lord earl!” She swept regally from the room.
William ran his hand through his hair and said in a more subdued tone, “I seem to be the villain of the piece. I’m sorry, Bella, I never knew your marriage to young de Clare was a loveless match.” He laughed shortly, but there was little amusement in it. “These Plantagenets are the very devil. Their passion borders on madness.”
The knights and servants had the great hall to themselves the next morning for the king’s brother had taken himself off in the middle of the night and the Earl and Countess of Pembroke kept to their apartments—separately, to everyone’s astonishment.
Brenda had slept late but had awakened with a healthy appetite. She strolled into the hall in time to see the handsome de Burgh swallow the last mouthful of his breakfast. He smiled at her with his lazy grin, amused to see her slip down on the bench beside him almost purring like a contented cat.
“Good morning, Mick,” she drawled languidly, her eyes half closed with sensual memories of her satisfying night.
“Rick,” he corrected solemnly.
Brenda looked slightly confused. She stretched her arms above her head languorously and said, “I could have sworn on the ride from Windsor yesterday you told me your name was Mick de Burgh.”
“Do I hear someone taking my name in vain?” drawled a tall knight as he folded his legs beneath the trestle table beside her. She turned at the familiar voice and her eyes widened in recognition. Then her eyes flew back to the other knight who was grinning from ear to ear. “Allow me to present my twin, Sir Rickard de Burgh.”
Rick winked at her wickedly. “Oh, I’ve already had the pleasure.”
As realization dawned on her, her hand flew to her mouth. Then when she saw the devilish looks on the young knights’ faces, she began to giggle.
When the Countess of Pembroke walked into the hall, she was greeted by roars of laughter.
“I fail to see what’s causing such a fit of hysterics, unless it’s because I received no bath or breakfast tray this morning.”
Her husband’s knights were on their feet immediately in respect for the beautiful princess.
“Forgive me, my lady, I thought the Odiham maids were looking after your needs.” Brenda slipped from the hall, almost running into William, Earl of Pembroke, as he arrived to break his fast. As he glanced down the room he felt a seering jealousy that his wife was flanked by the devastatingly handsome sons of Falcon de Burgh. William crushed down his jealousy. It was an emotion he could not afford to indulge. Jealousy led to lust, and he had sworn to keep himself in check for at least another year. Richard’s behavior with his sister was clouding his judgment. The de Burghs were knights of honor in whom he had every faith. They would protect his wife’s virtue as diligently as he himself would.
The Dragon and the Jewel Page 7