by C. J. Pinard
The gesture was so maternal and comforting, Mariselle began to cry again.
Shawna stroked her hair. “Shh. It’s all right, sweet girl. There’s nothing you can do about it. I am so sorry this burden has been placed on you, but just know that I am always here for you.”
This made Mariselle’s tears fall faster. There she was, crumbling in on herself, and with a simple kind word and gesture, Shawna reminded her that the world wasn’t coming to an end.
“Thank you,” Mariselle squeaked out. “I’m sorry I do this every month. Maybe one day I’ll just accept it and not lie in bed for hours or days upon end, wallowing in self-pity.”
Shawna laughed dryly. “You, my dear, have every reason to be upset. But, chin up, Mari. You’re the most sought-after woman in Syracuse. There is a reason for this, like I keep saying.”
Mariselle sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Why are you so good to me, Shawna?”
“Because I think of you like the daughter I never had. Now,” she said, getting up from the bed. “I’ve been thinking over the past month, and I believe I may have a temporary remedy for the pains you feel in your belly. I shall return shortly.”
With that, she walked out the door and Mariselle smiled. Shawna always made everything better.
As her mind began to wander to Mathias again, they started drifting into thoughts of him and how he must look naked. She wondered if his cock jutted out straight when it was hard, like Alexander’s, or if it rose pole-straight to his bellybutton, like Zackary’s. She wondered if he enjoyed licking and sucking her between her legs, like Griffin was so good at. Her mouth watered at the thought of putting his hard rod between her lips and swallowing all of his seed. She began to squirm in her bed, wondering why she always felt so amorous during her monthly. It wasn’t fair, really, because she wouldn’t dream of getting sexed during this dreadful time.
A knock sounded at the door again. “Come in.”
Shawna strolled in, smiling with something awkward and bulky in her hand.
Mariselle sat up and cocked her head to the side, staring at the strange, jiggling item. “What is that?”
“It’s to ease the ache in your womb. Cow’s bladder filled with hot water. Now, lie back.”
Mariselle did as she told, keeping her eye on the strange contraption.
Once she was flat on her back, Shawna carefully laid the item down on her lower belly, covering her from her bellybutton to her thighs.
Mariselle immediately groaned in pleasure at the relief she felt. She hated how the pain always radiated into her vagina and thighs when the cramps would get severe. The heat took all the pain away.
“Shawna,” she murmured. “You are an angel from heaven! Where did you conjure up such an idea?”
She smiled, obviously pleased with herself. “Oscar and I were talking. I tried explaining how horrid the pain was that came with our monthlies. He remembers me suffering before the curse. We put our heads together and he wondered if heat would alleviate the suffering. So I boiled some water, asked the kitchen staff to save the cow’s bladder for me after it was slaughtered, and went to work. I was hoping your monthly wouldn’t show up, of course, but I wanted to be prepared in case it did.”
Mariselle was getting sleepy now, she was so relaxed and out of pain. “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
She patted Mariselle on the arm and smiled down at her. “Don’t you mention it. Now, would you like a book or anything to read, miss?”
She shook her sleepy head. “No, I’m tired. You’ve thoroughly relaxed me.”
“Good, get some rest. I’ve got more hot water boiling downstairs. Once this cools off, I’ll replenish it. Goodnight, child.”
“Goodnight, Shawna,” she murmured before she fell asleep. Her slumber was plagued with sexual dreams about all four brothers.
“There’s nothing here!” Alexander gritted out, frustrated as he stopped his horse and looked around a small clearing in the woods they’d come upon.
“I agree,” Griffin said, sighing. “Our hour is up and we must return to the troops. This has been a colossal waste of our time. I’m in the mood to kill something.”
Barclay steered his horse back in the direction they’d come. “I’m gonna make that little jester cry for his dead mama once the iron maiden and I are done with him,” he growled.
“You won’t have any objections from us,” Alexander murmured as he turned his horse around.
Griffin turned his around, too, and the trio began to trot out of the forest. Once they were out of the clearing and weaving through the trees of the forest, something was niggling at the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure what, but he could swear he smelled jasmine as he turned his head around to look at the clearing once more.
What he saw made him gasp out loud. For where there was nothing but a wide, empty clearing, now sat a house with candles burning in the windows and smoke belching out of a chimney top.
“What is the devil is going on here?” he exclaimed without thinking.
Barclay and Alexander stopped and turned around, both having the same reaction.
“What kind of sorcery is this?” Alexander breathed, staring wide-eyed at the house.
“Sorcery is exactly what is going on, Your Highness. That witch ghost cloaked this place from us. Once we turned, it appeared again. She wasn’t trying to help, she was trying to hinder us!”
“No,” Alexander said, shaking his head, a knowing feeling deep down in his gut telling him that the jasmine-scented apparition had his—and his entire country’s—best interests at heart. “I think she caused us to see this place. There is dark magic abound.”
“Agreed wholeheartedly,” Griffin said, turning his horse toward the house. “This is what we’re going to do. One of us is going to investigate, while the other two stand watch. If this turns out to be the dwelling of the bandits, you, Barclay, will go get your men, along with that filthy joker, and rally here.”
“Mighty fine plan, sire,” Barclay replied, inclining his head.
“You’re going inside, and we’re standing watch, correct?” Alexander asked, already knowing his brother all too well.
“Brains and good looks, no wonder mother loved you most,” Griffin said to his younger brother, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Alexander chuckled. “I was only her favorite because I looked like her.”
“No, Eva resembled her most. And aside from the beard, you are awfully pretty.”
“Oh, piss off, ginger boy.”
Barclay chucked low and deep. “All right, sires. Let’s get to the plan. King Alexander and I will stand watch, and you hurry back.”
Chapter 13
Gaylen frowned into the large looking glass in his hand. Even though he was still holed up in his cottage in the woods of the North Haven, he was still very much in control of what was going on at the West Haven. Or, at least he thought he was.
He should have waited until the kings and their captain were out of the woods before lifting the cloaking spell on the bandits’ home. He knew only two had been left alive, and that one still dwelled inside the small house to take care of the prisoners. But now that the king had spotted it, he had to do something.
He waved his hand over the mirror in order to gaze at the cells beneath the house. There were only two prisoners there now, and he couldn’t be happier to see that Zackary Rothhaven was suffering inside of his. The cut his captors had made on his heel was not healing, and in fact, was badly infected at this point. So much so, that old man Langer in the cell over had been able to sense the infection.
“Zackary,” Marcus whisper-yelled throughout the dungeon. “Are you ill? I smell the odor of sickness.”
Zackary, delirious with fever and agony, popped his eyes open and then squinted them. “Marcus, is that you?”
“Yes, sire. We have to get you out of here—and soon. I’m afraid you’re not going to make it through the night if we don’t, Your Majesty.”
Zackary shook his h
ead, confused. With fever burning up, he shivered and tried to remember the last few hours. He hadn’t told Mariselle’s father who he was, had he? No, even through his delirium, he was sure of it.
“Why are you calling me by a royal title, Marcus?”
Marcus rasped out, “I know who you are, sire. There is only one Zackary in all of Syracuse. Not only that, I watched you grow up. I would know your voice and that positive attitude anywhere. I just didn’t want to say anything while the other prisoners were here, but they’ve apparently been taken away. Now please, stay awake. We need to formulate a way to leave this dreadful dungeon before you die. I cannot look at my sweet Mariselle and tell her one of her beloved princes has perished. Please, don’t make me endure it. I couldn’t bear it.”
Gaylen swiped his hand over the looking glass and cackled. He wouldn’t have to lift a finger to kill one of the beloved Rothhavens. He’d die slowly of a painful infection, and Mariselle’s bumbling idiot of a sheriff father would starve to death, once Griffin killed the last remaining bandit.
With that handled, Gaylen closed his eyes and began chanting in Latin. When he opened his eyes, he saw Mariselle brushing her hair at her dressing table inside the Castle West Haven.
Mariselle. Her beautiful face emblazoned in his brain. “My sweet girl,” Zackary murmured, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. “I love her so much, Marcus. More than I have ever loved anything.”
Marcus grinned and raked his shackled hand through his thinning gray hair. “I know you do. I love her, too. We have to get out of here and get to her, though. There’s no time to waste.”
Zackary looked down at the heavy metal shackle on his wrist, but it seemed there were two of them. His vision was beginning to spin, and without any strength left, his eyes slipped closed and he succumbed to unconsciousness once more.
“Your Majesty,” Marcus hissed. “Sire, please. Are you still with us?”
When he didn’t receive an answer, Marcus began yanking on the chained shackle with all his strength. When it wouldn’t budge from the stone wall, he scooted over to it and put both feet against the wall and began to pull. The problem was that he had injured his hip after being thrown from a horse a few years back. He wasn’t as strong as he used to be, but he was determined to get out of there and to his precious daughter—and to save the king of the West Haven—someone he felt like an uncle to.
“Stop it, Mat!” Mariselle breathed out as she giggled uncontrollably.
“Just say it, and I’ll stop!” Mathias quipped, laughing as he continued to tickle her belly and back.
They were sitting on a bench inside the courtyard. She had gone out there after breakfast to think and reflect, when Mathias had found her. After some brief flirtation, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Being as inexperienced with women as he was, he challenged her to a game of wits.
“You didn’t answer the question correctly. Pigs are actually highly intelligent animals, not dumb ones. So, you lose and until you say, ‘Mathias is the most handsome, smartest king in all of Syracuse’, you’re going to perish from tickle torture.”
“No!” Mariselle squealed, still laughing. “You won’t get me to say it. You’ll have to kill me first!”
Mathias shook his head. “Okay then, I shall tickle you to death, milady!”
His fingers dug deeper into her stomach, and he was glad she hadn’t worn a corset so he could feel her soft belly beneath his fingers. He wondered what her belly and breasts looked like without any clothes covering them, and his dick began to rise beneath his trousers. This didn’t deter him from touching her; in fact, it made him want to touch her even more.
When she couldn’t breathe from laughing, she put her hands up and said, “All right, all right. I surrender. Mathias Rothhaven is the most handsome, smartest king in all of Syracuse!”
He stopped his assault and smiled down at her. “See? I’m the master at getting what I want. Now you have to kiss me to seal the deal.”
Her smile fell and her countenance grew serious. She flicked her gaze back and forth between his and said, “I don’t kiss men. They kiss me.”
Definitely not missing the cue, Mathias wasted no time in leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. His cock strained even harder when she groaned into his mouth and ran her fingers through his hair and her nails along his scalp. His tongue pressed against her lips and demanded entry, and when she opened up for him, he nipped her bottom lip with his teeth before sweeping his tongue inside her hot, willing mouth.
Without thinking, and without breaking mouth contact, Mariselle draped her leg over Mathias’s lap and straddled him on the bench inside the courtyard. Breaths heavy and lust crackling in the air above them, they kissed each other with all they had. Mathias reached around and grasped her ass cheeks outside her skirts and pushed her closer to him. His cock was so hard, it felt like it might burst.
Mariselle’s nipples pebbled against her dress and she wanted nothing more than to toss it aside and impale her pussy onto his hard cock. But… Aunt Flow was still visiting and she knew no man would want to enter her right now.
Being that they were in the courtyard, she remembered her time with Alexander and how glorious his hard member had felt inside her mouth, and the feel of his cum sliding down her throat. With a wicked grin, she broke the kiss and chanced a glance behind her at the door leading from the castle confines to the courtyard.
Seeing it was closed, and they were still alone, a wicked grin lifted her lips.
“What is it, love?” Mathias asked breathlessly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Shh,” Mariselle replied, her pale finger to his lips.
Without another word, she slithered down his body and made quick work of unbuttoning his trousers. She rooted around and slid his cock out of his undergarments.
And, oh, what a glorious cock it was. The youngest Rothhaven must have had the thickest and most mouthwatering member in all of Syracuse.
“Mariselle,” Mathias hissed, barely able to breathe. “What are you doing?” He glanced at the door leading the courtyard.
She grinned up wickedly at him. “What I want. That’s what I’m doing.” Then, she opened her mouth wide, and with her wet lips, slid them down his entire shaft.
“Holy mother of Mary,” he hissed, losing his hands in her hair. The feel of his cock head against the back of her throat was like nothing he’d ever felt.
On her knees in front of the bench, she felt empowered. She had the King of the South Haven under her control. He was at her complete surrender, and she was going to love every minute of it. With her hand at the base of his beautiful cock, she pumped it up and down as the top was shoved down her throat at her control.
“Damn, baby girl. Your mouth… oh, it’s so warm and… oh, my gods…“ Mathias tried everything he could to hold off from coming.
He looked down at saw Mariselle’s plump, red lips wrapped around his member and her playful green eyes staring into his and he could no longer maintain restraint. His cock began to jerk and spasm, and soon, his hot seed was shooting down her throat. He gently grasped her hair at the scalp and massaged it as she worked her mouth up and down. He groaned low and guttural as his whole body erupted into shivers.
She smiled around his hard shaft when she felt him come, and quickly swallowed all he offered. She loved the feeling of his cock jerking beneath her hand and in her mouth, feeling brazen and, of course, completely aroused beyond all reasoning.
Once she was sure he had finished, she rose to her feet, wiped her mouth with her finger, and smiled down at him. “Did you enjoy that, Your Majesty?”
He looked at her as he pulled his trousers up and secured them. “Come here.”
She obeyed, sitting in his lap. “That was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard. But now… I want to watch you come. Let’s go to my chambers.”
She ran her finger down his beautiful face and the dark-brown stubble shadowing his jaw. “I cannot, Mat. Maybe
in a couple days.”
Confused by her refusal to share his bed and continue the fun, he let go of her as she lifted herself off of his lap, planted a kiss on her fingers and then pressed them to his lips, and left the courtyard.
Chapter 14
Griffin peered in through the windows of the house. There didn’t seem to be anybody about, but he knew that didn’t mean much. He wasn’t even sure if it was where Zackary was being held. But… being that the house had seemingly appeared out of nowhere as if just moments before being hidden from human eyes, he had a strong feeling it was.
A glance in the kitchen area showed that it was definitely lived in. Pewter plates and utensils sat in a large tub of water to be cleaned, and the trash bucket was overflowing with chicken bones and potato peelings.
Griffin made his way around the back of the house and looked in each cloudy window. Movement to the right caught his eye. A man dressed similarly to the other bandits was pacing the floor in front of a makeshift bed laid out on the hard ground of the house. He appeared worried, his fingers to his lips.
Griffin grinned. He could tell by the beds on the floor that all the bandits had been living in this house. He’d definitely hit pay-dirt, and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’d found their hideout. He moved to another window to get a better look at the layout of the house. With a smile, he noticed a staircase leading down into the dark underbelly of the house, and knew exactly where it led to: Prisoners’ cells.
After a quick sweeping glance of the rest of the house through the windows, he scurried his way back to his brother and the captain.
“So, what did you find?” Alexander asked anxiously.
“It’s definitely their house.” He looked at Barclay. “Gather your men, bring the remaining thief. There is only one bandit alone in there, and we can easily overtake him. There’s an underground dwelling there, too. We’re going to storm the house, find my brother. If he’s not there, both bandits will be visiting the castle and the iron maiden. Clear?”
