Purebred (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards #3 )

by Georgia Fox

  "Don't worry, my lady. You'll still have me," said Jeanne gallantly. "I won't leave you."

  Isobel smiled. "I know, Jeanne. I could never manage without you. You are a dear friend to me."

  "And you to me, my lady."

  She looked at the little maid and saw tears in her light golden lashes. "Whatever is the matter? Why this somber face?"

  "It's just that..." Jeanne fussed with her apron and wiped it over her flushed cheeks, "I always thought I would never see you quite this happy and content. Now you are and I know I was not the cause of it. I wish I had been the one to make you smile, my lady. You never looked at me the way you do at him. I wish—"

  "Jeanne, that is quite enough! Gracious, surely you are not jealous of Alonso d'Anzeray?"

  "He could give you what I couldn't."

  Isobel groaned, shaking her head. "My dear Jeanne, I suspect there are not many men either who could give me what he does. And you have known me many years. You are my only confidant." She reached over the edge of the tub and stroked the maid's soft hair. "You and I have shared much that he and I have not. Ours is a special bond too. A different bond."

  Finally Jeanne looked up again, her eyes still damp. She sniffed. "Sometimes I just wish it was only us still. You and I. As it's always been."

  "But things change, Jeanne. It does not mean I value you or your loyalty any less, just because I...I..."

  "You love him."

  She cringed and quickly took her hand back. "No."

  Jeanne pursed her lips.

  "It is not love," Isobel muttered. "'Tis just a fancy. Lust. The excitement of something new."

  The maid shook her head slowly and said solemnly, "'Tis love, my lady. I'm sorry to say it, but you are in love with the devil known as Blackheart." She sighed heftily again and clambered to her feet. "Good thing you've got me to put the pieces back together again when the worthless good-for-naught bastard has gone away."

  Bemused, Isobel looked down at her hands in the milky water. She was in love?

  She was in love.

  Just like that.

  * * * *

  He laid his hand on her belly, his fingers spread wide. It did not feel as flat as usual, but her body could merely be preparing for her monthly courses.

  She was looking up at him from the bed, and he knew she fought to keep her lips from smiling. The green of her eyes was startling this evening, brilliant as emeralds in a king's crown. Neptune's crown perhaps, he thought.

  Alonso settled between her thighs and lapped at her pouty sex. Hmm, herbs and lavender. She always tasted sweet on his tongue, but tonight more so than ever.

  "How many times must I tell you her pleasure matters not, d'Anzeray," the Baron exclaimed wearily from his chair. Tonight he was sprawled in it, half asleep apparently. His eyelids drooped worse than usual and although he continually propped his head up on the knuckles of one hand, it kept lolling forward as if he might suddenly fall out of the chair. "You can't possibly enjoy eating her cunt as much as that. Get on with the business at hand. There is no need for the woman to climax."

  So he knelt up and held his cock to her entrance. He was already erect, fluid leaking from his crest, the taste of her pussy having aroused him quickly. But the Baron was still dissatisfied.

  "Why can't you use the belt on her again as you did before? She needs it. I want to hear her cry out again. I fear she's liking it too much. Turn the bitch over."

  Before he could do anything, Isobel rolled over onto her belly, presenting her bottom for a spanking.

  Slouching in his chair, the Baron yawned loudly. "Punish her, d'Anzeray, for being a haughty little slattern. I want to see plentiful red marks on her skin before you fuck her tonight."

  Alonso didn't even need to slide a bolster under her hips for she lifted her arse for him and if his eyes did not deceive she'd just wriggled it slightly, taunting him.

  He cupped his balls and squeezed. Had to try to hold off or he might come before he got inside her and the Baron would not appreciate that waste at all.

  "I see you need a spanking, Lady Isobel," he growled.

  She parted her legs even wider and arched her back.

  Damn he wanted that arse. He'd fingered it, tongued it, even used the end of a candle in it — at her husband's urging — while he fucked her pussy, but he'd never yet put his cock up her anus. That, of course, would be another waste of semen in the mind of his employer.

  He began to spank her arse cheeks hard with his flat hand. Behind him, the Baron laughed croakily, drowsily. Alonso could see the moisture between her labia. She liked this, but her husband apparently had no idea of his wife's sexual needs so he would not know that spanking, rather than punishment, was just further arousal for Isobel. Alonso pinched her arse and that made her yelp.

  No comment from the Baron.

  He spanked her again and her bottom bounced under his hand. The skin was getting warm. He heard her panting, saw the little squirm as she pushed her sex into the bed and ground on the sheet, making a wet patch with her dew.

  Surely the Baron would note that and realize she was enjoying her "punishment".

  But still no comment.

  Unable to resist the sight of her bright pink cunny dripping delicious nectar, Alonso bent his head and licked her rapidly.

  To his surprise there was still no admonishment from her husband.

  His cock was marble hard, aching with need. Alonso sucked her nether lips into his mouth and heard her moan. He ringed his cock with the fingers of one hand and stroked it slowly, trying to calm it down and hold off the need to spend. His tongue swept up into her arse crack and she giggled.

  Finally he raised his head and looked back at Louvet.

  The man was fast asleep in his chair, head on one side, mouth open and snoring lightly.

  He thought he might have heard a herald of angel's song. Grabbing a greasy chicken skin from the old man's platter, Alonso rubbed it into her arse crack, then tossed it to the floor.

  "I'm coming in your arse tonight, Isobel," he whispered breathlessly.

  She got up on her knees, but he pushed her back down and forced his way into that tight hole. Reaching under her, he grabbed her titties and squeezed as he rutted frantically between the cheeks of her tight bottom.

  He thought he'd died and gone, inexplicably, to heaven. The sensations rocking through his body were like none he'd ever experienced. He fucked her wildly, savagely. And she gasped with pleasure, pushing her bottom against his groin, her hands cupped over his where he fondled her tender breasts.

  He came hard and kept on coming, grinding into her. She shuddered and fell back to the bed, moaning and half-laughing.

  When Alonso finally pulled out of her anus, his cum dripped thickly down her crack and stained the sheet below.

  "How dare you?" she whispered, flushed and starry-eyed as she turned over.

  He grinned and gestured with a jerk of his head toward her sleeping husband. "How could I forfeit the opportunity, my sweet?"

  Isobel glanced over and smiled, relieved.

  They lay down together again and kissed. Another opportunity not to be ignored.

  He slid his arms around her and pulled her close. "'Tis good to lie in a bed with you."

  She tilted her head back and looked at him quizzically, candle light dancing in her large eyes.

  "Just to lie here," he clarified softly, "and put my arms around you."

  "Such nonsense you speak."

  He planted a kiss to the tip of her haughty nose. "Do you think you are with child, Isobel?"

  "Yes." It was unequivocal.

  His heart swelled. Although he had considered one day having a child of his own, as all men did, it was now a reality. He was a young man who had known a full life, often a violent one. But this thing that had happened was peaceful, calming, bringing clarity to his mind and his being. It was a good, bright light that shone with hope for the future. For their future.

  "You will leave," she added s
uddenly.

  "No."

  "Your purpose here is served. My husband has no further need of you."

  But she did. Alonso said nothing, knowing she would only argue.

  Moments later her husband stirred, his sleep but temporary. Sadly.

  "See how you bore me now," Louvet exclaimed angrily. "I fall asleep watching you mount the wench. 'Tis time someone else took your place."

  Alonso climbed off the bed and wiped himself on a damp rag from the washbasin. Her husband was leaning forward to inspect Isobel's pussy, as he always did, for he liked to watch the seed trickling out of her. His fleshy, greasy hands were clasped around her ankles, holding them apart while he examined the sticky remnants of that evening's sport.

  Knowing he had to act quickly before her husband chose to invite one of his own soldiers into bed with Isobel, he cleared his throat and said quite casually, "As it happens, my lord, two of my brothers have just arrived today and they camp tonight in the forest. With your permission I would bring them to the manor tomorrow."

  That cheered the old fool up.

  Isobel looked at him with those bright green eyes, but she kept her countenance unreadable. Of course she was wise not to let Louvet observe any excitement in her face, but her husband was too busy studying her cunny, in any case, to note that her nipples had tightened into lusty little peaks again.

  * * * *

  He had accepted the position of stud because he wanted to claim Isobel's body and with his usual boyish arrogance, his lust for winning, did not care how he did it. There was also the fee to be considered, of course. But now that she believed herself to be bearing his child, Alonso was forced to examine more thoroughly what he had done and the consequences of it.

  The child was not Louvet's, and he could not bear the thought of that sad excuse for a man raising his son. Or daughter.

  Nor could he tolerate the idea of never seeing Isobel again.

  So they had called him Blackheart. It did not mean he had none, did it?

  He rode into the forest the next day and found his brothers, Dominigo and Ramon. They had come in answer to his message. As usual he knew he could rely upon them. In their family it was one for all and all for one.

  Chapter Eight

  When Isobel entered the Baron's chamber and found the three brothers waiting for her, she was glad of the extra cup of wine drunk at dinner. Alonso was correct when he told her that his brothers were all very similar in looks — all dark and well-hewn. One of them, however, was larger and taller. In fact he made the chamber appear smaller just by standing in it. This one was introduced to her as Dominigo, and he had curious silver grey eyes like none she'd ever seen before on a human. He took her hand in his great paw and kissed her fingers. The other brother was named Ramon, and he shared Alonso's dark brown eyes. He had a distinctly mischievous expression upon his face, caused perhaps by the dent of a boyish dimple when he smiled.

  In their powerful presence she had almost overlooked her husband, who sat in his usual chair, dressed tonight in his best robes.

  "Aren't you lucky, wench?" he snapped at her. "Three d'Anzerays to cover you this evening. Let's hope we have success." He gestured at the bed, and Alonso led her to it. Ramon slipped her shift down over her shoulders while Dominigo unbraided her hair. It was like having three devoted handmaids, she mused.

  Isobel had never had such attention heaped upon her. She would relish every moment.

  Again, Louvet croaked out his rules, but no one was listening much to him. There was no need. It was evident that Alonso had filled his brothers in already.

  They surrounded her with their heat and strength, but she did not feel threatened by it. There was an odor of sun-baked leather that was not unpleasant. Certainly she'd smelled worse on men. Their faces, browned by the summer and possibly by years spent in other climates, were at least clean, if not shaved smooth. Their breath was freshened with mint and cloves. Efforts to please her had been made in advance, she realized.

  For a big man, Dominigo was gentle. The skin of his hands was by no means smooth, but he touched her with reverence, as if she was a priceless sculpture. His palms swept over her thighs and then between them, and Isobel shivered with restless anticipation. At the same time as the elder brother explored her sex, parting and stroking her tender folds, another pair of hands cupped her breasts from behind. Long fingers tweaked her nipples.

  Alonso lay back across the bed, rubbing some kind of oil on his erect penis that made it gleam in the candlelight. He beckoned with one crooked finger and his brothers lifted her between them, carrying her to him. Dominigo spread her legs and she was lowered onto the waiting cock, but not as she expected. Turned to face her husband, it was not her pussy Alonso filled, but her anus. She expected to hear her husband complain, for seed would be wasted there, but he was apparently so transfixed by the sight of all three brothers' cocks erect that he simply stared. It was, indeed, a sight to behold for they were tall and proud, magnificent specimens.

  Isobel was slowly lifted and lowered on Alonso's slickly prepared cock, his brothers each holding a leg with one arm while they slipped hands down to fondle her sex. She peaked quickly, but dare not let her husband see. He was watching so intently and she knew he preferred to see her scared or disgusted by what was done to her on his bed. That, for some reason, brought him sadistic pleasure.

  The two handsome brothers, squeezing a finger each into her sopping wet pussy did not give the act away. In fact, apparently aware of what the Baron wanted, they went along with it as if this was a performance.

  "We're going to fill you with cock, Lady Isobel, and you will beg us to stop," said Ramon in a terse voice as he fingered her.

  "Yes," she gasped out, trembling. "Please don't hurt me."

  Her husband smirked and settled in his chair, a goblet of wine clutched in one fist, as usual.

  Dominigo bent his head and took her left nipple in his mouth. Meanwhile, Alonso's hands were on her hips and he pulled her down, holding her speared on his cock. "I'm rolling on my side," he grunted. "Which of you wants to go first in my lady's cunt?"

  Ramon seemed ready to leap to it, but Dominigo pushed him aside. "Wait your turn, young cub. I'll spill in that fine quim first."

  With Alonso's arm wrapped around her waist, Isobel was carefully laid on her side, his cock still impaling her bottom. His big brother stretched out on the bed before her and raised her leg. "That's a beautiful, delicate little pussy, my lady," he muttered, grinning at her with fine white teeth, just like his brother's. "I might be too damn much for it. Here it comes..." He shifted forward and she felt the heft of that enormous cock against her inner thigh as he forced his way in. Behind her, Alonso moved closer and pressed his chest hard to her back, hot and damp with sweat.

  With both cocks now throbbing inside her she wanted to cry out. She could not move. Dear god, they would surely kill her.

  The Baron laughed and slapped his hand on the arm of his chair, proclaiming that he had never seen such a big prick in such a small cunny. And certainly never seen a young wench penetrated simultaneously in both holes. He was beside himself with glee as his wife groaned and gasped. "Let me see!" he shouted. "Such a sight it is! Let me see the two cocks moving in and out."

  Ramon lifted her left leg, and she knew Louvet was watching as the other two brothers fucked her steadily, moving in a rhythm they'd clearly used before.

  The Baron fell silent, but then she felt a hand touching her on the area of her body between the two pumping cocks. It was as if he tried to feel how and where they went in and out without splitting her in two.

  His scratchy fingernails ventured farther, and she knew he was feeling around her anus, trying to grab hold of Alonso's cock as it moved in and out. Then he did the same to Dominigo, gripping the girth of that massive prick as it pushed into her stretched vagina.

  "Does it hurt, wench?" he demanded.

  Isobel, knowing what he wanted to hear, groaned that it did, but in truth she was clo
se to another climax and her trembling was from that, not at all from fear. At last her husband must have gone back to his viewing position.

  Ramon let her leg down and then knelt at her head and offered his erection, claiming that he would spill soon and could not wait. Taking pity on the younger brother, Isobel opened her mouth and took him in, sucking gently and then with greater hunger as his thrusting brothers began to spill, one after the other.

  She no longer knew where Isobel ended and they began. They were a part of her and vice versa.

  * * * *

  The brothers each took their turn. Isobel surprised him by how willingly she went with their actions. It might have been a choreographed dance for how smoothly the four bodies moved around the Baron's bed. For a woman who was a virgin not so long ago she took to pleasing multiple partners with ease, he mused, slightly annoyed by the fact. But his disgruntled thoughts were soon swept aside. She was an exceptional jewel of a woman, full of depths he could never plumb alone. He needed his brothers to bring all her facets out and make them shine. And when she smiled at him, Alonso knew how rare it was, how special. It was for him alone.

  * * * *

  When her courses did not appear she stood in her chamber and felt her stomach, tentative, hardly daring to believe it had happened to her at last.

  "Foolish woman, you will not feel him yet!" she mocked herself. Him. She already thought of it as a son.

  She knew Jeanne had been ordered by the Baron to let him know as soon as she got the first of her flux. He was waiting, anxious to know if his scheme bore fruit.

  As she sat upon her bed that day, Isobel felt sick. Many emotions were at work within her. Unsettled she knew not which way to turn. Beside her bed there were three late-blooming wild roses, sent to her by the brothers after their last coupling. They must have cut them from the stable wall where the flowers climbed and flourished. Their pale pink petals were ready to fall, wide open and windblown. She took one from the small cup of water in which they'd been placed and in doing so she pricked her finger on one of the thorns. Blood dripped to her skirt.