“You please me, Claire, very much.”
The final six blows fell in quick succession, the last one packing the harshest sting of all. She cried out and lurched forward, almost breaking position, but she reared back and kept on her hands and knees, waiting for Galien’s instruction. A warm hand brushed across her punished flesh, and he stroked her sore cheeks.
“Mm,” she said with a sigh. “Thank you, Galien.” She supposed it was acceptable to call him Galien now instead of Lord Galien when they were in private. She waited and listened for his objection, but it never came, and she smiled, rather liking the feel of his name on her lips without any formality. She liked hearing her name on his lips as well, especially when he called her sweet Claire. No man had ever used an endearment with her before, not even her father.
He rubbed the sting from her bottom using both hands now, and he tapped the insides of her legs to force her to spread wider. She obliged him, still overcome with the unceasing urge to please him, even though his actions made her face flame. Of course the embarrassment of knowing he had a perfect view of the folds between her thighs made her heart race faster, and she throbbed in her womanly parts and ached for him. She arched her backside higher and trembled as his rubbing hands moved closer to her center, and when his fingertips danced along the outer lips of her quim she jerked into his touch with a whimper.
“Just as I suspected. You’re soaking wet, Claire.” His voice was strained, but he sounded pleased by her body’s reaction to him, and this shocked her and filled her with curiosity.
Why was she getting so wet? His quick intake of breath as he parted her folds put her more at ease with her body’s reactions, and she gasped as an intense burst of ecstasy rocked through her. He swirled and applied pressure overtop a place where she’d never been touched, and she moved against his hand, unable to keep still during the onslaught of pleasure. She felt herself building up to something, but before she reached what promised to be a climatic ending, he turned her over and resumed untying the front of her dress. Panting, she peered up at him from under her eyelashes, admiring the sculpted expanse of his chest and the dark spattering of hair covering it.
“Let’s get this off of you,” he said, his eyes darkening. “I want to see my wife.” He lifted her dress over her head and cupped her breasts over her chemise, kneading and stroking the exposed flesh of her cleavage.
Her hardened nipples ached and tented the fabric, and she resisted the impulse to shield herself from Galien’s intense gaze. His eyes gleamed black in the lantern light, and she glanced down at the hem of her chemise, knowing he’d insist she lose this item of clothing too. She bit her lip as he studied her, and to her surprise he divested himself of his leggings before requiring anything else of her.
The appearance of his thick, long manhood jutting out set off a fluttering in her stomach, and her breaths came shallow and fast. She swallowed hard and lifted her eyes from his swollen shaft to meet her husband’s gaze. He edged forward on his knees with a predatory stare trained on her, and he next slipped her chemise off her shoulders, working it off her with slow movements as he paused time and again to caress her skin in all the right places.
The moment her chemise fell to the ground beside the bedroll, he latched onto one of her nipples and pressed her down atop the blankets. His tongue danced around her stiffened peak, and each hard tug sent a spiral of wicked sensation straight to her nether region. She felt moisture gathering between her thighs, more of the wetness Galien had been so pleased to discover, and she wrapped her arms around him, drawing her hands up and down his back, then through his hair. He traveled on to her other breast, pinching her peak first before taking it into his mouth. His ministrations spawned an even deeper longing within her, and she found herself pressing against his leg, seeking relief from the sweet torment he so mercilessly inflicted upon her.
He pulled back and situated his body over hers with his manhood grazing the opening of her slit, and he dragged it through her wetness, coating the tip of his hardness as he gazed down at her, looking every bit the fierce warrior. He was a powerful man, a knighted lord with vast holdings, and she knew he intended to always command the same respect and obedience from her as he commanded with his men. Although she hadn’t wanted to marry him, in this tent, in this moment, she wanted nothing more than for him to command her, to show her the pleasure he’d promised. She parted her thighs and arched up, inviting his entrance.
A growl rumbled out from him, and he clasped her head and claimed her lips, kissing her harder than he had before. She moaned into his mouth and tried to meet the thrusts of his tongue, and she felt his stiffness pressing into her, teasing her entrance with slow and shallow thrusts. An urgent fire lighted within her, and she whimpered and would’ve begged him to take her if only she could speak. But he kept kissing her, kept holding her steady in his arms and taking all that he wanted.
She gasped for breath when he pulled back, and she searched his eyes, wondering why he hadn’t taken her yet. Why was he teasing her so? She felt frantic and needy and ready to combust, and she trembled as her aching transformed to an almost unbearable throb.
“Please, Galien,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“What am I doing to you?” He continued the slow and shallow movements, still not filling her up as she so desperately wished he would.
* * *
“You’re killing me, Galien. Please, please, please,” Claire said, her head thrashing around as she begged. He relished each frantic plea that fell from her lips, and he enjoyed watching her writhe underneath him while she ached for his cock.
“Ask me for what you want, Claire,” he said, now drawing his length through her moist folds.
“I want you, of course!”
He grinned down at her. “That’s not specific enough. I want to hear you say, ‘Please, my lord husband, will you please pound into my wet quim with your cock?’”
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t wish to consummate this marriage after all, my lord. I want an annulment.” Through her sensual haze, her eyes shone with mischief.
“Is that so, my lady?”
“Yes, sir, I am quite decided about it.”
He tapped the tip of his cock against her womanhood, aiming for the swollen nubbin he’d rubbed her moisture over earlier. “You’re quite decided, are you?”
She screwed up her face and closed her eyes. Little gasps emanated from her with each tap of his cock on her pleasure spot, and finally she relented. “I-I cannot remember the exact wording you asked for.”
“Use your own words then, sweet Claire.”
“Please, my lord, will you please…” Her words trailed off and a profuse blush stained her cheeks. She stared at him pleadingly, and released a frustrated sigh when he held fast to his demands. “Very well,” she said, arching her hips up. “Please, my lord husband, will you please pound into my, er, into me with your co-cock?” She said cock in a whisper so faint he almost missed it.
“Such bawdy talk for a lady. I might have to punish you again tonight.” He grasped her hips and surged forward, entering her slick channel in one rapid, harsh thrust. The tight warmth of her wet core gripped his cock, and he groaned and leaned further over her, kissing her cheeks and nibbling at her soft earlobe. She shuddered and ground against him, and he withdrew partially and slammed back into her.
Galien set a fast pace of driving in and out of her sweetness, claiming her with all the height of his primal lust. His need for her overpowered his ability to be gentle, but by the wild manner in which she met his thrusts, it was obvious his bride didn’t wish for him to take it slow. More than happy to give her what she wanted, he drew her legs atop his shoulders in order to plunge deeper into her tight, moist quim. Ah, she was so lovely and responsive, his sweet Claire. Her hair billowed out on the bedroll around her delicate face, and her bare breasts bounced with the movements of his pounding.
“You belong to me now, Claire.”
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She met his eyes with a shocked look, and at first he thought she intended to protest his claim on her. But her lips parted and she let out a deep, long moan as she gyrated her mound against his hardness. “Oh, Galien. Galien… my lord…” Her nails dug into his arms, and she closed her eyes as she rode the wave of her release, a release he suspected was her first.
As her moaning and writhing subsided, he slowed and waited for her eyes to open. When they did and her stare fluttered to his, her expression was one of pure contentment. “That… that, my lord, has never happened before.”
He cupped the side of her face, and she leaned into his touch with a purr. “I believe this means I have conquered you then, Claire,” he said, unable to stop the pride welling up within him over his prowess.
“If this is what being conquered feels like, I invite you to do so again and again.”
“Gladly, my lady. Every day for the rest of our lives.” Galien’s cock throbbed within her and ached for relief, but when he resumed driving in and out of her, he drove excruciatingly slow and after the first few thrusts, he pressed his thumb to her sensitive nub. She jerked underneath him and undulated her hips, matching her moves with his.
Too soon a tingle of pleasure raced up the insides of his thighs and his balls clenched up, his peak imminent. He spread more moisture overtop her sensitive spot and increased the swirls with his thumb. Her legs quaked and her eyes closed, and her insides once again clamped down on his cock. Unable to hold back any longer, he pumped into her faster and groaned as he filled her up with his seed, holding her hips tight and not releasing her until he had spent himself completely.
He withdrew from her and cupped her face, stroking her cheeks as he peered into her enchanting blue eyes that reminded him of the mountain lakes near Minrova.
The intensity of his feelings for her unnerved him, and he had to resist the compulsion to whisper sweet words of affection into her ear. That he even had the urge in the first place startled him. He reminded himself that he’d known her for less than a day, and if he spoke of the warmth spreading through his heart, she’d likely balk at him. Yet in the short time he’d known her, he’d glimpsed many sides of her nature. Her beauty and grace, her sweetness and her stubbornness, and her bravery and kindness. She was a lady who had put the safety of others ahead of herself, a lady who had possessed enough bravery to take on a mercenary nearly twice her size with nothing but a dagger, and a lady who had overcome her fear of intimacy and discovered the passion blazing within her.
He pulled the blankets atop them and tucked her into his side. She rested her head over his heart, and he stroked her hair as his thoughts turned to the future. The death of his father would overshadow the arrival of his new wife at Minrova, but he was certain she would understand. The late Lord Galien’s burial would take place in two days, and Galien knew his cousins who’d stayed behind were likely making the arrangements for the late lord to be put to rest next to the wife he had loved so dearly. Galien smiled at the memories of his childhood, of always catching his parents kissing and hugging and making eyes at one another.
The sound of Claire’s soft snoring brought his attention back to her. He was thankful for the braziers and extra blankets that allowed her to curl up naked next to him, despite the fact that the cold wind howled outside the tent.
“Sleep well, my sweet Claire,” he said, even though she was already fast asleep. In response to his voice, she sighed and snuggled closer to him, draping one leg atop his and burying her face deeper into his chest.
Though his responsibilities as the new lord of his estate weighed upon him, as well as the impending funeral and the sadness at losing his father, the world didn’t seem so bleak with Claire nestled in his arms. He leaned down to brush a kiss atop her forehead, and when she sighed again so sweetly in her sleep and her breath tickled his chest, his heart swelled with tender emotion for the spirited lady encased in his arms.
Chapter Five
Minrova was a large keep that greatly resembled Hohenzollern, and Claire’s head spun as she walked the halls in the late afternoon, determined to make the acquaintance of anyone she’d missed meeting last night. She was also determined to immediately take up her position of lady of the house; she’d already visited the kitchens to discuss the evening meal, and she made certain chambers were being prepared for the arrival of several of Galien’s relatives, two more cousins, and an uncle and his wife.
A somber mood prevailed over Minrova due to the passing of Galien’s father, and Claire hadn’t seen her husband since last night when they rode into the bailey under a bright full moon. He’d passed her off to one of the servants, a bashful young woman named Erwyn who was to be her lady’s maid. Erwyn had taken her to Galien’s chambers and helped her get settled, and she’d fallen fast asleep after a relaxing bath in lavender-scented water. At some point in the night, Galien must have returned, because his side of the bed was crumpled, and she did recall the feel of a warm body pressing into hers in the middle of the night.
She missed him but understood he shouldered many responsibilities, including overseeing the arrangements for his father’s funeral tomorrow. She hoped to see Galien this evening though, and she smiled at the memory of their travels back to Minrova. He’d kept her warm and had spoken at length about his family and his holdings and told her much about his home. In the tent, he had commanded her body, and her heart to some extent as well, and the mere thought of their carnal deeds now caused her face to flush. Even thoughts of the spankings heated her cheeks and prompted a tingle to race across her backside, and lower still where it coalesced between her thighs.
She looked around, embarrassed that perhaps someone might witness her flushed state and deduce her thoughts. To her relief, she saw no one aside from a footman at the end of the hall. Satisfied that she was alone, she moved to a window to look down upon the bailey. Her spirits rose at the sight of Galien riding up on his horse. He dismounted and one of his squires led the stallion away.
Claire brightened and prepared to rush downstairs to meet him as he marched to the entrance of the keep, but the sight of a woman blocking his path froze her in place at the window.
For the first time in her life, Claire suffered a stab of jealousy over another woman showing affection to a man. It festered deep and burned, unlike any other form of jealousy she’d experienced, and she felt physically ill with her stomach twisting into tight knots. She watched as the woman touched Galien’s arm, and he smiled and laughed at something she said. Her hair gleamed golden in the sunlight, and it wasn’t done up properly in a coif or veil. This woman was no lady, and Claire’s blood boiled hotter and hotter the longer she lingered at the window, spying on her new husband and a woman who most likely spent her days pandering her virtues.
All the happiness that had flowed through her since their time in the tent faded, and she backed away from the window and sought sanctuary in Galien’s chambers. Her chambers now too. Galien said she wasn’t to have her own chamber because he wanted her close, and this pronouncement had filled her with warmth—at the time. Now a sense of doom filled her. She sat on the bed and tried to put herself in Galien’s place, tried to explain away his actions in an effort to comfort herself.
He hadn’t wanted to marry her. Leuthold had commanded it, for reasons she still knew not. She’d discovered Galien hadn’t been married before, but beyond that she knew nothing of his amorous ways. Perhaps he frequented the taverns for wenches, or perhaps he’d harbored a fondness for a particular woman before riding off to do his overlord’s bidding.
Tears prickled in her eyes and she blinked them back, determined not to allow Galien to affect her so. She reminded herself that her marriage to Lord Diterich had been far worse, for her late husband had flaunted his use of whores in her face, sometimes inviting a servant girl to sit on his lap in the great hall during the evening meal. Claire had never been jealous of Diterich’s use of other women—if anything it had come as a relief—but she hadn’t enjoyed
being shamed so publicly, and a tear finally trickled down her cheek as she recalled the looks of pity other ladies had constantly leveled in her direction. She sniffled and wiped away the moisture coating her face, damning every man she had ever known.
She cursed men for being so weak-willed, and she questioned why God deemed them fit to rule over women, a thought she’d had quite frequently throughout her life.
If she examined why she was so upset with Lord Galien’s supposed dalliances though, she supposed it was because she had expected better of him. He had seemed a man of morals, the sort of man who expected those under his authority to be at their very best. The sure and confident way he commanded his men, and the strict manner in which he’d disciplined her and then the tender embrace that had followed after as he comforted her, had painted a picture of a man of high principles. A man she had begun to respect.
A knock on the door startled her from her miserable musings. Claire rose up and crossed the room. “Who is it?”
“Lady Desmona, but please, call me Desmona. I know we shall be good friends,” a cheerful voice called from the other side.
Claire opened the door and smiled at a short plump lady with rosy cheeks and a thick mass of curly hair that peeked out from a sheer blue veil. “You must be Lord Galien’s youngest cousin. He told me about you on the journey here.”
“Aye, I have the misfortune of being related to a scoundrel like Galien,” she said merrily, winking at Claire. Then her countenance grew more somber. “I came to visit with my brothers, Trent and Gaston. We were here when Lord Minrova passed, God rest his soul. It was a sad day when the bell tolled over the keep.”
“Have you been here long?”
“For a fortnight. Our parents live in the foothills where Hohenzollern’s soldiers were frequently attacking. They wished to see me to safety and insisted I visit Minrova for a while, sending me off under the care of my two most annoying brothers.”
The Conquered Brides Collection Page 41
