by Georgia Fox
“Wha’s that?” The boy pointed at the brooch on his mantle. “I want.”
“When you’re older, it’ll be yours.” Pause. The boy’s eyes lit up. “What do you say?”
“Merci, mon pere.”
He smiled wickedly, knowing his wife didn’t approve of French words, and walked to the gate, the horse plodding along behind. Elsinora waited for him in the garden, leaning on her hoe. The babe, he could see, was asleep in her cradle in the shelter of the wall.
“Henry go inside and find Nat, I want to talk to mama alone.” He set the boy down, kissed him and watched him run in a haphazard gait across the yard to the main hall.
“So you came back then,” his wife muttered, turning back to her garden and the rich brown earth. “Didn’t find a better opportunity?”
He glanced around quickly to be sure they were alone and then he leapt the fence and grabbed her around the waist from behind, pulling her bottom against his groin. “Aye, wench, I came back. Miss me?”
“As I would a boil just lanced.”
He laughed, pressing his lips to her cheek. “Let’s go up to the stream.”
He felt her shiver, heard her quick inhale.
“I’ll take the babe inside to Bertha and you go on ahead,” he whispered. “Wait for me there.”
“I suppose I’m just supposed to submit to you because you’re a knight now? Full of yourself aren’t you, Norman?”
“That’s right, woman. And you’ll be full of me too very soon. Make haste.”
Fortunately for him she didn’t argue.
* * * *
Elsinora Gudderthsdottir was not afraid of a little cold. Other folk might balk at the raging rush of bubbles, ready to sweep them off their feet. The icy prick and sting of icy water.
Not she.
Legs parted, she waited for the waves to hit her quinny, every inch of her skin alive with tiny bumps, breathing.
She heard a splash, then his grunting breath. Felt his rough hands on her hips. The unseen stranger pushed her legs further apart, ruthless. And then came his shaft, a great thick organ thrusting at her from behind. She tipped forward and held the rocks for balance, crying out. His hands jerked her hips backward as he pushed his broad cockhead at her private folds, spearing her in one brutal motion. His loins slapped hard up against her buttocks, just as another flush of frigid water washed between her spread thighs, fizzing and tickling over her labia. The man’s cock filled her again and again while he held her hips, bouncing her roughly against his thrusting. He grunted, his breath hot in her ear.
Elsinora cried out his name as she climaxed and the sound echoed around the valley, all the way up to the stone of his unfinished castle, where a small carving had their initials entwined forever.
The End
www.georgiafoxauthor.blogspot.com
Other Books by Georgia Fox:
The Ever Knight
The Virgin Proxy
The Craftsman
The Good Sinner’s Naughty Nun
Lumina
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com