I had to admit, I was surprised when she agreed to the outing. We used to go often, before we started pecking at each other. I wasn’t sure if Aighta had spoken to Brie or if she decided to come in remembrance of a better time. It didn’t matter. My wife looked stately on her mount, but not stiff, with a peek of a smile on her face. I thwarted the thought that she had some underhanded plan to ruin my day. Focus on the goal, Aighta had said. Don’t let comments, thoughts, or temper block your way.
The goal was happiness for Brie and me. No matter what infuriating words Brie let fly from that maw, I vowed to remain calm. I was to allow her to have her spurts no matter how uncomfortable her anger got. I was to take it like a man. Gods-be-damned, was I to be stone? But for Brie, I would listen.
Bridgette patted Calibre. “By gods, Aiden, you’ve made a mess of this place.”
Oh, here we start. Honestly, I was surprised she could see anything beyond the wall of steel closing us in. I filled my lungs and let my breath out slow. “I’m waiting for the builders. They’re on their way.”
“Why must you do this? Don’t you have enough?”
I breathed in again, pretending it wasn’t a slight but an honest, curious question intended to understand me. I didn’t want her know how dire the water levels had become in our wells back home. Fieron wouldn’t believe me, perhaps blinded by jealousy that I’d briefly courted Aighta. I could not convince him that greed was not my motive. I had to do it to save our lands. Now that water flowed to Dreshall, our reserves were replenished. “Part of the reason why I do this is for you and Darrin.”
Brie made a sound of disgust. “Well, if you’re doing it for me, please stop.”
I paused and calmed myself before speaking. “I only partially do it for you, but if you want me to…I will stop.”
Disbelieving eyes roamed over my face. “Did you find a whorehouse and stir the waters last night?”
I wanted to choke her. If she continued, I might find it in my heart to go ahead and find a brothel to dip my wick. But that type of thinking had gotten us here. My answer was light and playful. “No, I haven’t been to a prostitute in quite some time. Would you like to help me gain satisfaction instead?”
The queen of Dreshall blustered and waved away her embarrassment. Gods-be-damned, this was difficult. Sweat dripped down my back from having to restrain myself. My incisors clamped down and flattened my tongue before I could retort, Would you like to fuck Paul instead? The poor man. I’d seen the way he looked at her. She’d thought I never noticed the men who were enamored with her, but I knew which ones she liked best. My heart clenched but my cock twitched at the idea. I was a study in conflicting agendas—one moment I couldn’t stand anyone looking at Brie, the next my cock came alive and hardened at the thought.
“Bridgette, I’m trying to have a beautiful ride in the countryside with my beautiful wife. I’d like this time to be pleasant and restful.”
“Difficult with all these men around,” she mumbled.
“Bridgette, please, enough.” I raised my hand in supplication.
Blazes of fire shone in her eyes, but when she looked at me her anger faded. In a softer voice she said, “I’d like you to set up a fund for the refugees.”
“Anything for you, Brie,” I whispered. Taking it like a man felt more like being beaten with a blade whip. She grew quiet and the silence went on as we passed rows of burnt houses, people milling around remains and pieces of their once great wall lying in piles on the ground. Once we were through the gates, or rather, through the hole my trebuchet had punched through the wall, the land was turning green and recovering from the camp of soldiers during the fighting. The beauty of this place couldn’t be tamed. I looked over at my wife and knew from the expression on her face she felt the same.
“I didn’t get to actually see the land, I was too—preoccupied,” Brie said. That was my wife, when angry she could only see red and Bridgette had bristled through the halls with furious intent.
“Oh, Aiden this is beautiful.”
I sucked in a breath. Seeing her delighted face lit my heart. The woman only need smile to break the frost lodged in my core. The thawing livened parts of me I’d thought dead. Then self-preservation clamped down hard on my heart. She could gut me so easily like this, with my open eagerness to please her.
Calibre betrayed her rider’s will and started dancing. Yeger flicked an ear towards the frisky mare but remained his steady self. Brie laughed, the sound of teasing play. My chest lifted despite my cage of self-control. Gods-be-damned woman played me like a flute, and she never played fair. Wicked thoughts extended to the mischievous smile I couldn’t hide, and Brie caught them. The twinkle in her eye was all the confirmation I needed, and my old war-steed knew what I wanted before I could finish the thought.
Yeger crashed through the guard escort in front of us, leaving a hole for Brie to follow. Unprepared for an inside assault, Stiagwor broke propriety and screamed, “Aiden, you son of a reckless bastard, you’re too old for this!”
I laughed while my guard scrambled to keep up with me.
“Gods-be-damned youth!” Stiagwor yelled, “Get your arse back here!”
Having the lighter steed, Brie urged Calibre forward. Yeger, well-versed in battle and bred for war, valiantly thundered after her. I could hear Brie laughing the entire time. It was just like in our younger days, when my wife and I were newly married. Hooves churned up fresh grass smelling of dew and forest. Trees grew thick.
Stiagwor called out, “Majesties, come back, please.”
Yeger was in his prime, able to run after a spirited white mare and outrun the lesser steeds behind. Laughing harder than I’d seen her in some time, Brie twisted in her sidesaddle so she could see me behind her. She was playing with me. Her eyes twinkled. “Catch me if you can.”
Blood rushed through my ears. I wanted to leap off the saddle and tumble her to the ground, rip her clothes off, and pour my heart and other pieces of my flesh into her. Calibre ran as wild as her mistress’s beauty. Bridgette was the essence of feminine grace. She trusted Calibre with her whole being and kept her face towards me, letting the mare run straight.
We passed into thicker woods while Stiagwor shouted, “Majesties! Please come back.”
Brie slowed her horse till I was almost with her only to let Calibre burst into another sprint. But Brie wasn’t looking where she was going. My smile fell, my eyes widened. The trees here were not manicured.
“Branch!” I screamed at Brie.
My lady didn’t turn, didn’t right herself, instead she lay face first on Calibre’s back. I ducked under the branch.
“Is it safe?” Brie yelled.
“Yes! Quickly!” I was frantic for her to get control of her mount. Brie sat up forward, grabbed the reins, and brought Calibre to a halt. Yeger came alongside close enough for me grab Brie by the back of the neck and plant my lips on hers. My tongue battled inside her mouth, fighting a wordless reprimand. We parted and I watched her slowly open her eyes. Her lips seemed too swollen to close.
“Keep your eyes ahead,” I growled.
“You saved me.” Brie smiled.
My scared anger abated. “Gods-be-damned, woman. It’s a good thing you’re the best rider of anyone I’ve seen. And you’re smart enough to react the way you need.”
“You really think I’m the best?”
I huffed. “Don’t thwart my reprimand, woman.”
Brie smirked. The rest of my anger faded into relief. “Yes, I do think you’re the best. And not just at riding.”
Her eyes lit up. A piece of bark flew past my nose. An arrow stuck out of the tree next to us. I whipped Yeger around, protecting Brie from the direction of the shot.
“Run!” I said.
“Not without you.” Brie pulled out a misericorde and maneuvered Calibre to charge ahead.
“Gods-be-damned, woman, do as I say for once.” I drew my sword.
I gave a curious look to the hand-length, three-sided blade she hel
d. “You think you’re going to do any damage with that?”
Brie flicked her eyes to me. “In the right place, it could kill you.”
Another arrow flew past. I didn’t have time to find our attackers. Not with Brie in danger. I grabbed Calibre’s reins and Yeger went to the side, pushing Brie’s horse and effectively shielding both woman and her steed from the bolts. We ran.
“Brute! Let go of her face!” Brie slapped my arm.
I dropped the leather and snarled, “Go back.”
“I go where you go.” Brie snarled back. Our horses ran, but Brie held Calibre back, keeping the faster horse even with Yeger.
“Go!” I slapped Calibre on her rump, but the well-trained mare heeded her gods-be-damned mistress.
“You slap her again and I’ll stick you!” Brie said.
I growled and protected Brie as best I could. Stiagwor and my guards pulled up beside us. “Bowmen in the forest,” I yelled to my security chief.
He and four others turned and went back while the other twenty-four covered Brie and myself. When we got to the open hole in the wall, Brie slowed Calibre to a trot.
“Ladies first.” I waved a hand for her to go.
“You’re the king.” She backed her horse up behind me. “You go first.”
I growled. She thought I’d leave her to go back and find our attackers. And I would have. Gods-be-damned woman knew me too well. Charging ahead, I patted Yeger, checked him for wounds all the way to the stables. Hooves, canon bone, knees, shoulder, chest, rump—no arrows sticking out of him. I double-checked Calibre as we rode as well. Finally, when we got to the barn I handed Yeger to a walker.
Brie jumped off her horse and waved her stable hand off. “I’ll walk her till she breathes normal.”
“Not today, you won’t.”
“She needs a walk.”
I gritted my teeth. “The hands can do it.”
Her stern face challenged me. I grabbed the reins from her hands and handed them to the stable hand. Taking hold of Brie, I marched her into the castle with my parade of guards.
Paul ran down the tower stairs. “How was your ride?”
“Someone tried to kill the queen,” I said.
Paul’s face hardened and I pushed Brie up the stairs.
“More like someone tried to kill you,” Brie huffed.
“Stiagwor is tracking them down,” I said to Paul.
My man-at-arms followed us, making it now twenty-five men, Brie, and I going up the stairs. Armor clattered behind me as I shoved Brie up the stairs, taking two and three steps at a time.
“Are you trying to trip me?” Brie complained.
“Get up the stairs,” I shouted.
My wife turned meek and started running—away from me, I thought. I followed and stayed with her all the way up the stairs.
“Where was the attack?” Paul said.
“In the woods, not far from the east side,” I said.
“Anything I can do?” Paul asked.
“Leave us in private.” I jumped in front of Brie and opened the door to the bedchambers I made my own and pushed her through. After stepping inside I slammed the door. My wife stared at me like I was some wildebeest as I raked my eyes over her, looking for any harm done. She seemed fine. I grabbed her and crushed my lips against hers. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time. She wouldn’t have a chance to breathe, nor deny me. Her lips parted easily. I wanted inside her, now.
Crushing our mouths together, I moved her back to the bed. I wanted more, further, deeper. Clothes kept us too far apart, but stripping three corsets, two skirts, and underthings off would take too long. My desperation wouldn’t wait. Lifting her skirts I fumbled with her long underpants, then loosened my belt to free myself. I pointed the tip of my cock towards her hole, shoving cloth aside and finally reaching the sanctuary between her legs. Oh, wet bliss. I started pumping without thought, then cursed inwardly. Brie was a lady, not a whore.
Straining against every instinct that screamed to push into her hard as I could, I painstakingly slowed to make love to her. My body fought with my reason. My hips wanted to drive, take, pound, ram, thunder into her. Reason held me back. Slow, easy, hold, oh godsbedamned, I was going out of my mind. Take, hold. Force, easy. No, no, please. Faster. Harder. No! Gentle. Slow. Kind. Smooth.
The easy slide into her slick flesh had my insides shuddering for control. I wanted to lift her up and rock us into a senseless pleasure, but she was a lady. You either made love to a lady or you fucked a whore. Brie was a lady. But secretly, desperately, I wished I could bear down on Brie. I wanted to make her scream. But I’d hurt her. A lady didn’t want such attention. My beast would have her resenting me more than her broken heart did. For her, I slowed my pace.
My forearms trembled with restraint. I eased out ever so slowly. My breathing increased, my jaw tightened at every hard-won second I inched back into her. I cried out in frustration, agony, and release. Having her was torture and bliss. Bottoming out I paused, holding my breath. I can’t, I can’t, Brie, oh gods. Hold! Easy! Yes. I glided out slow and easy. Her inner walls tried to suck me back in and I was losing my reason. The heat, her slick hold on me, made me want to forget she was a lady. In and out. I made myself slowly pull all the way out, giving her relief. Then I pushed my way back in, being careful not to hurt.
Thrust! No! I pulled myself out before my body took over. My end was near. I could last longer when thrusting without restraint, but holding back drove me insane. It was one or the other for me. Drive hard for control or go slow and lose it. I couldn’t do both.
With my cock completely sheathed, I came. I screamed obscenities. I held myself above her, remaining still as I poured out my fear, anger, desire, and frustration into her wonderful pleasure box. Feeling infinitesimally better and severely tired, I flopped over. Fully dressed, with my cock limp over my pants, I nonetheless captured Brie in my arms and pulled her into my embrace.
“My apologies for my crude speech.” I nuzzled my face in her hair.
She huffed.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Her words came out small and unconvincing.
I damned myself. No matter how slow or gentle I was, it wasn’t enough. I held her tight and silently thanked her for her patience with me. I also prayed that one day I could make it good for her. But she was a lady and ladies didn’t find the base nature of men appealing.
7 - Alexia
At present, I was the only woman in a room full of soldiers, a few prominent merchants and King Goththor. Seated to the left of the king, I had been given the place of honor. For what reason, I did not know.
“Princess Tyilasuir, thank you for heeding my summons.” King Goththor’s stare held no thanks.
I wanted to say nothing, but I’d been well trained. “Of course, your majesty.”
The orphan-maker shared most of his father’s qualities. Light hair, dark eyes, handsome—well, I would have admitted that Darrin was handsome if I hadn’t hated him so much.
But when King Goththor spoke, his voice commanded the elements. Air carried his words far. Earth gave his words substance. Any disobedience would be met with fire and, if you still were unaffected, water would pull you under and sit the weight of an ocean over your head until you listened.
“Bring them!” King Goththor waved a hand to his soldiers. A door to one of the side rooms opened and two gaunt male figures were brought in. A kick to the back of their knees brought both to kneel.
I felt the gaze of King Goththor but gave no indication that I knew these two men. Both loyal. Both of their families fiscally taken care of by me for a job that would get them killed even if they succeeded. But the line of communication broke somewhere and instead of Darrin, they’d gone after the king himself!
King Goththor’s security head came forward with a crossbow and handed it to his majesty.
“This is a fine piece of machinery.” King Goththor pulled the string up and over the latch that tightened the
tension. “I’d seen these, but we never were able to capture one.”
I’d handled a crossbow before. For most men it took both hands inside thick cow’s-hide gloves to get the weapon firing-worthy. King Goththor loaded the crossbow like he’d done it every day for all his life, and with bare hands. His calluses must be as thick and strong as a bull’s hide used for shields.
Stiagwor handed the king a bolt. After examining the weapon, King Goththor loaded it. “Stiagwor, you and your men need to move aside, please. I’ll not have any firing mishaps.” Running a hand down the long shaft of wood, King Goththor kept his eyes on the crossbow. “Very simple to handle. Ingenious, this weapon. Do you recognize these two men?”
I swallowed a knot in my throat. “I know most everyone in Allsveil.”
The king ran a hand down the thin metal trigger that spanned the length of the wooden shaft, aimed at the man on the left, and said, “Good.”
The crossbow twanged. Edgar, my loyal commissioned mercenary, screamed.
The king’s cold eyes of death looked at me. “My family came across bolts such as these just yesterday. Did you know, Princess Tyilasuir?”
I kept my silence. It seemed Prince Goththor and his father were adept in finding out my secrets.
King Goththor loaded the crossbow as effortlessly the second time, took another bolt, placed it, and aimed at Edgar’s brother. “No womanly pleas of forgiveness?” King Goththor’s words came out like a sneer. “No confessions?”
I sat there. Helpless. Stunned. I watched Edgar slump over, screaming and holding the end of the wooden shaft in his side. Just like when I’d watched my father go down, I did nothing. Could do nothing.
Edgar’s brother, Randall, pleaded with his eyes. But loyal he was and silent he stayed. A second twang, but this time no screaming. Randall couldn’t scream. Wouldn’t scream. The three feathers of the arrow stuck out from his throat.
“Accurate. I’ll be keeping this one.” King Goththor handed the crossbow to Stiagwor.
My head swirled, drowning me in an endless spin. A hand lifted my chin. Loveless angry eyes scalded secrets from my soul.
The Spoils of Allsveil: Dark Heart Heroes #2 Page 5