He smiled as he thought of Jane. If he brought Genny home, he had no doubt that Jane would have her full story within a matter of hours. His smile faded. As long as he was certain she wasn’t telling them the truth, he would not take her back to Bakra Castle. He would not risk the safety of his family. They had suffered enough. He did not think her malicious or cruel. Rather, she struck him as someone who was afraid, someone on the run from someone or something. Pushing aside his concerns, he continued. “It has never been known to bring three perspective brides in one generation. This is indeed a blessing.”
Genny was staring at him now, wide-eyed. “Three men to every one woman?”
“In some cases. But because we are four brothers, we are allowed two wives. Our older brothers, Zaren and Bador, have Jane. We will have you.” He couldn’t shake the feeling that he hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know. Maybe she was telling the truth, but he wasn’t convinced. He wanted her, his body made no secret of that fact, but he wouldn’t let down his guard around her.
A horrible thought struck him. “You’re not married, are you?” Maybe she was running from an abusive husband.
“No!” she all but yelled, before composing herself again. “No.” Her voice was low and steady. “I have never been married.”
“Good. Then you have no objection to us trying to convince you to stay with us.”
She shook her head back and forth. “No. I mean, yes, I do have objections. I won’t be staying.” Her hands were fisted in the fabric of her dress, but she kept her body still as if trying not to attract attention. It struck him as a natural pose for her, one she’d learned and used often.
“Do you miss your home so much then, Genny?” Garrik kept his voice soft and inquiring.
“No.” Once again she glanced away. She seemed to be struggling within herself over some issue. When she faced them again, she was calm and composed. Jarmon admired the way she was able to do so when she was obviously very afraid. Her courage pleased him.
“Three days.” He’d had enough of talking around the subject. “For three days we wish to pleasure you, to be with you. It is our job to convince you to stay here with us, to marry one of us. But first we must pleasure you separately and together so you will know that you are compatible with both of us. If you stay, then you can make your choice as to which of us you wish to marry. The other brother still retains the right to share your bed one night a week, as I’ve already explained.”
Genny jumped to her feet, her hands held out in front of her as if to ward them off. “No. I cannot.” Tears welled in her eyes.
Both brothers stood slowly, neither of them wishing to frighten her enough to run. “No one will force you, Genny,” Garrik crooned. “We only want to make you happy, to bring you sexual satisfaction.”
She stared at them as if they were both out of their minds. “I do not understand either of you.” With each word she spoke, she took a step away from them.
“You don’t need to decide right now.” Jarmon told the lie easily. In his mind there was nothing to decide. If they were not men enough to seduce her, then they deserved to be turned away from her bed. They would never force her. The very thought was abhorrent to him. But that did not mean they would not use every skill they possessed to convince her otherwise.
Genny stopped and stared at him. Jarmon knew he’d thrown her off-kilter once again. What did she think they were going to do, toss her down on the blankets and flip up her skirt? Perhaps she did. And while the idea had merit once she was used to them, it would never do for her first time with either one of them.
“Come.” He patted the ground next to him. “Sit and we will eat. The fish are cooked. You are hungry, aren’t you?”
Her hand slipped to her belly and she licked her lips. Jarmon stifled a groan at the innocent enticement. “Food would be good.”
He glanced over at Garrik and nodded. Both of them ignored her as they busied themselves with the fish. Ever so slowly, she crept closer to them. No, not to them, to the food. Her eyes never left the cooked fish as she slowly lowered herself to the ground some distance away from them.
Garrik pushed a large portion of the food in Genny’s direction. Sitting back, he picked up his own food and began to eat, as he drew Jarmon into conversation. Knowing what Garrik was doing, he joined in. Both men chatted easily about their hunting trip and about what they might do tomorrow.
Although neither man looked directly at Genny, both of them were very aware of her every move. She ate like a person who’d been half starved. When she finished the fish, she even licked the broad leaf that it had been served on before she caught herself. She tensed, but relaxed again when she thought they weren’t paying her any attention.
Jarmon had saved a large portion of his own fish and casually pushed it toward her. He didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he kept up the congenial conversation with Garrik.
He bit back a smile when she finally reached for it, pulling it close. She was like some untamed creature of the forest. They would not win her by force, but by gentleness and consideration.
Food was just the first step. By the time they lay down for the evening, she would be well fed and relaxed. Ripe for seduction.
Chapter Five
Genny placed a hand on her stomach and sighed. She felt better than she had since she’d first began her frantic flight from her home. That was—she counted the days off in her head—seven days ago. At some moments, it seemed as if she’d run in the middle of the night just yesterday. At other times, it felt as if she’d been on the run forever.
It was good to have a full belly for a change, but she could not afford to let down her guard for one single moment. She didn’t understand the Bakra brothers at all. They’d been nothing but kind to her since they’d stumbled upon her by the river. She felt heat creeping up her cheeks at the memory. They’d seen her half naked. No other man had seen her in such a state of undress.
She wasn’t sure they bought her lie about the tapestry, but neither of them had disputed her outright. Not that she’d thought they would. This was Javara and women were scarce. Of course they would want to keep her.
Perhaps she wouldn’t mind being kept by them . . . just for a short while.
The errant thought made her stiffen. Where had that come from? She’d never imagined being married before, of sharing her life with several men. She’d never dared to consider it before, instinctually knowing what kind of men her brothers would choose for her. The Luther brothers. She shuddered and the meal that she’d so recently consumed threatened to come back up again.
What would it be like to have a husband who cared for you, one who treated you kindly? She’d always wanted children and a home of her own, but had never dared to dream. The tapestry had done that for her. It had tempted her to dream. But more than that, it had given her the courage.
Three years. She’d put three years of her life into that piece of cloth. It had taken her months to plan the design and to slowly confiscate lengths of thread from all that she’d spun and dyed. Her brothers sold and bartered her threads to others and she’d never seen a penny for her efforts. She’d decided on her seventeenth birthday that she’d at least deserved to have some of the thread itself.
She’d started at the edges of the design, creating the trees and plants. From there she’d added some birds and animals as she’d worked her way toward the castle in the center. The castle itself had been one of her own creation. Made of gray stone, it stood proud and tall. A fortress, yet a home.
After two years, she was ready to begin the two warriors who’d stood in front of the castle. Why she’d settled on two and not more, she’d never know. Perhaps it was because she’d secretly longed for a husband of her own. To have that, she’d have to belong to at least two men. She didn’t want to belong to three. She’d been around too many rough men her entire life. The less, the better.
It was in that final year that two of her brothers had been killed by Za
ren Bakra, and Leon and her second eldest brother, Harmid, had become obsessed with the Bakra brothers. Their obsession had obviously become hers and she’d used their descriptions of the men to complete her tapestry. They represented freedom to her. They had defeated her brothers and their victory had given her the courage to fight for her own freedom.
In her own way, she wasn’t lying. The truth was that the tapestry had brought her to them. Without it, she’d never have had the sheer audacity to defy Leon and to flee the only home she’d ever known.
She couldn’t stay with them. Oh, it would be easy to give in to them. They were good men, kind men. A woman could do much worse for a husband. But no matter what she thought she might like to do, she could not stay with them. If her brothers ever found out, they would make outright war on the Bakra family. They had already suffered enough at the hands of her family. She would not bring more hardships and strife their way.
But, a sly voice in the back of her head whispered, there was no reason she could not enjoy their sexual advances. They would be gentle with her. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she didn’t doubt her instincts. They’d kept her safe too many times for her to distrust them now. Genny had always feared losing her virginity to one of the rough, vile men her brothers called friends. She’d always known they would be brutal, taking pleasure in her pain. Not so Jarmon and Garrik.
They’d already had plenty of opportunity to make use of her body if they’d desired it. She was a woman alone with no protection and no real weapon. They were two exceptional warriors in their prime. She hadn’t stood a chance if their intentions had been less than honorable.
Instead, they’d reassured her and fed her.
Perhaps this opportunity was a gift from the gods. She’d prayed to them for years, begging them not to let one of her brothers’ horrible allies be the one to take her virginity. Maybe this was the answer to her prayers. This was an opportunity to have men of her choosing initiate her into womanhood and the mysteries of sexual relationships.
Heat flooded low in her belly and her sex dampened with need. She’d never felt this way around any other men in her life. Could she truly let this opportunity slip through her fingers? They wanted her. They’d left her no doubt of that fact. She’d seen lust in men’s eyes before, but it had always left her cold. The sexual desire in Garrik’s and Jarmon’s eyes warmed her blood, making it pump faster through her veins.
Her breasts ached and for the first time in her life, she yearned for a man’s hands to touch them, to stroke them. Her nipples were tight buds, rubbing against her dress every time she shifted even the tiniest bit. She felt hot and flustered, not quite sure what she wanted, but knowing these men could give it to her.
Jarmon had wrapped his arms around her earlier today, cradling her body against his much larger, harder frame, and she could still feel the echo of his embrace. Once she’d understood that he’d meant her no harm, in fact, wanted only to comfort her, she’d longed to sink back into his arms. Genny had wanted to curl into his body and never leave. She’d felt safe for the first time in her life.
Then she’d discovered who he was.
Sighing, she traced her finger in the soft moss around her, listening with half an ear as the brothers chatted softly between them. That was another thing she liked about them. They didn’t feel the need to yell as her brothers did.
They’d probably do more than yell if they discovered her true identity. She shivered and curled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She didn’t even want to imagine what they might do.
A blanket dropped around her shoulders. She hadn’t even heard anyone move. Garrik smiled down at her. “The evening is closing in. Why don’t you move closer to the fire?”
She blinked, noticing her surroundings for the first time in hours. While she’d been lost in thought, the sun had all but disappeared from the sky. The first day with them was almost gone. She would only have tonight and two more days. Did she dare to reach out and take what she wanted? Could she live with herself if she didn’t?
She’d lived in fear most of her life, but everything had changed the moment she’d decided to run. This was her life now, for better or for worse. Her brothers might still find her and drag her back to Craddock Keep. She could easily find herself forced into a brutal marriage from which the only escape was death. At least if she took this opportunity, she would have the memories to comfort her for the rest of her life.
Her brothers would be furious if they ever found out she’d given away her virginity, but they’d never be able to discover who she’d given it to. She’d die before she’d tell. Besides, she was never going back there and she would probably never see them again. She was free now and this was a chance to reach out and grab something good from life. To experience something truly wonderful that wasn’t tainted by her family. As she inched toward the low glow of the fire, she prayed that she had the courage to take it.
• • •
Genny lay under her blankets staring up at the night sky, wondering why she’d even bothered to pray for courage. It didn’t seem as if she needed any at all. Both men had spread their bedrolls next to her and stretched out beside her. She’d expected one or both of them to reach out to her. Instead, they’d both rolled onto their sides, each of them facing her, and closed their eyes. Their breathing was deep and even while hers was shallow and choppy.
Seems she’d worried for nothing. Obviously, she’d been mistaken about their intentions. Her disappointment was overwhelming and she bit her bottom lip to stem the unexpected sting of tears. Now that she’d made up her mind, she wanted to explore her sexuality to its fullest. This might be the only chance in her lifetime to do so and now it seemed to have ended before it had ever really begun.
“You are not sleeping,” Garrik murmured as he laid his hand upon her stomach. The heat from it seeped through the coarse fabric of her dress.
“I’m fine.” It was hard to concentrate on talking with his hand making small circles on her stomach. With each circle he made, his hand move higher on her stomach, taking it closer to the undersides of her breasts. When she realized she was holding her breath, she forced herself to take long, even breaths.
“Are you certain?” The side of his hand barely grazed the edges of her breasts. They seemed to swell as her nipples tightened. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Her breasts ached and it was all she could do to keep from grabbing his hand and pressing it over the swollen tip.
“Genny?” He paused, his hand hovering just below her breast. It was almost touching her. Almost.
She nodded, unable to talk. The ache in her breasts had spread low to her belly. Her legs moved restlessly across her blanket as she tried to stem the pulsing need springing to life deep inside her.
Jarmon propped himself up on his elbow as he stared down at her. The darkness hid most of his features, but his eyes seemed to glitter in the moonlight. Gently, he stroked the side of her cheek with his finger. “I can sense the tension thrumming through your body.” His low, deep voice mesmerized her and she unconsciously leaned closer. “I can feel the need burning in you. Sense the yearning of your very soul.”
Oh, gods, was she that obvious? Shame filled her. Closing her eyes, she turned her head away, but Jarmon caught her jaw between his fingers and urged her head back toward him. Stubbornly, she refused to open her eyes. She didn’t want to see concern, or worse yet, pity in his gaze.
Her eyes flew open when he stroked his thumb across her bottom lip. He’d leaned closer to her, so close that their noses were almost touching. “I can sense it, Genny, because those same cravings consume me as well.” Before she could truly make sense of his words, his mouth lowered to hers.
She’d expected his kiss to be forceful. Hard. What she hadn’t expected was for him to taste her, gently running his tongue across both her lips. The roughness of his tongue against her smooth lips seemed to accelerate the pulsing within her body. Her core ached, throbbing as cr
eam slid from her body, softening her sex.
Her mouth opened of its own accord. She wanted more, wanted to feel his tongue stroking hers. She felt more than heard his rumble of pleasure as he accepted her invitation, slipping his tongue inside.
Heat. She’d never experienced such heat before. Her body felt as if it were burning from the inside out, being consumed by a need she’d never experienced before. From listening to the women gossip in her home, she knew that this was passion. Although, from what they’d said and the stories they’d told, Genny had never expected it to be this out of control, this overwhelming. It was as though her body no longer belonged to her.
Jarmon stroked his tongue across hers, coaxing it to play. Tentatively at first, she rubbed it against his and was rewarded with another rumble of pleasure from deep in his chest. Sliding her hand over his shoulder, she cupped the back of his head, not wanting him to pull away.
There was so much more she wanted to experience, to try.
Taking her time, she leisurely explored his mouth. Jarmon’s breathing quickened and he slanted his mouth over hers, fitting them even tighter together. Genny could hardly breathe, but she didn’t care. Every part of her body was tingling. Her toes curled as he deepened the kiss, the movements of his mouth and tongue becoming more frantic, less practiced.
Her fingers curled into his scalp, her short nails biting into him when she felt him start to pull away from her. She didn’t want it to end. Wasn’t ready to let go. But he tore his mouth from hers, gulping air into his heaving lungs.
Genny reached out to Jarmon, but sucked in a deep breath as Garrik slid his hand down the front of her dress, across her hip and over to her knee where the hem had bunched. One slow inch at a time, he slipped his hand beneath. She hadn’t had time to pull on the damp chemise she’d washed earlier today so there was only one layer of cloth covering her. Pushing the fabric out of his way as he went, he continued upward. His hand was hard and calloused, but gentle as he skimmed his fingers over her thigh. She shivered as he traced her hipbone, whimpered when his finger dipped into her navel. His low laugh thrilled her to her toes. When his hand was resting just below her breasts, he stopped.
Woven Dreams Page 5
