by Amy Sumida
“Was that too painful?” Barret asked in concern.
“No, it was...” I cleared my throat. “It's fine.”
“I'll just kiss away the hurt,” he smiled and lowered his mouth to my breast, sucking the injured nipple in, silk and all.
I cried out, my thighs clenching together as a wave of heat flashed over me. Barret laved and sucked at me, and then pulled away to admire the wet circle of silk which he'd made completely transparent. The soft rose of my nipple showed through it vividly. I felt my cheeks heat even further and turned my face away from him, to chew at my lips.
“Do you want me to stop?” Barret asked, his voice still gentle.
“No,” I admitted on a breath.
“Then don't turn away from me,” his hand slid up my neck to grasp my jaw, and he roughly jerked me back to face him. “As long as you want what I do to you, it will never be shameful.”
I nodded.
“Just tell me to stop and I will, Addy.”
“Yes, alright.”
Barret grinned again and gave my other nipple the same attention as he had the first. Then he knelt before me, and pushed my legs apart so he could ease even closer. I looked down my scantily clad body at him, and he stared up at me in awe.
“I have never seen anything as beautiful as you, not in all my life,” he whispered and laid his chin on my belly.
Barret's hands spanned my waist and then reached up to cup my breasts. He kneaded them as his face lowered, rubbing side to side as he went. His hands went to the hem of my shift, and he lifted it, exposing the little triangle of silk. I held my breath as he brought his face closer to me again. But then, suddenly, he opened his jaws wide and bit me through the fabric. It wasn't painful, not that kind of a bite. Barret took all of that tender flesh between his teeth and massaged it.
My thighs shook, and my hips thrust forward, pressing me further into him. Barret made a happy, moaning sound and released me, but only so he could stroke the silk and soak it with the wetness gathering beneath. Not from his mouth, but from me. I gasped as the silk went transparent. He pressed it tight into me and rubbed over the pink folds tenderly, making me even wetter. Barret inhaled deep with a smile, then bent forward and licked the silk. Just one, long lick before he stood.
Barret removed my wrists from the hook, and carefully untied me. I stood there shivering and confused as he re-dressed me. When I was completely clothed again, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply. Then he eased away, his eyes more green than blue, and full of lust.
“Don't take them off,” Barret whispered. “I want to know that you're wearing them beneath your dress. I want to imagine your nipples through the silk as I eat my dinner. And I want to know that your pretty, pink pussy is pressed against those wet panties. It will help me through the tragedy of losing the taste of you.”
I couldn't say anything to that, just stared at him as I tried to catch my breath.
“Go on,” Barret pushed me towards the door. “I'll see you at dinner, sweetheart.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dinner was torture. I kept seeing Barret on the floor before me, licking me. He would cast me knowing looks from his seat beside me, making it all so much worse. The silk kept rubbing at me deliciously, making it impossible for me to forget it was there, and I had to squeeze my legs together numerous times to get some relief from the ache Barret had left me with. When I finally crawled into bed that night, my hands had trailed over my body as I thought about the brothers and prayed that the next few days would pass quickly.
I awoke the next morning in a horrid state of need. I was about to go down to Barret's room and demand that he do those things to me again when my mother came into my bedroom with a flurry of females. There was much to do, much to do.
“I hate 'much to do,'” I whined, and she chuckled.
“Come now, you're to be married on the morrow,” my mother chided. “We must finish our preparations.”
Married on the morrow, the words made my legs tighten in anticipation. Finally, there would be no more turning away from me, no more restraint. We could.... oh dear God, what were we going to do? Would they all come at me at once? Would I have to lie there and accommodate one of them while the others watched? The reality of marrying multiple men was hitting me hard. Could a woman even endure so many bouts of lovemaking at one time? Maybe I would die! My face flushed and I swayed on my feet.
“Adelysia!” my mother steadied me, staring into my face. “Easy now, my darling, come here,” she eased me into a chair, and then took my hands. “Addy, are you unwell?”
“I just...” I looked up at her.
“Yes,” she nodded, knowing immediately what I was concerned about. “It could go badly for you. This is something your father did not consider. They could insist on their husband's rights, one after the other, or even all at once. This is a possibility. But I urge you to remember what you've learned about these men. After getting to know them myself, I highly doubt they will demand anything of you that you will be unwilling to give.”
I took a deep breath and let her words sink in.
“You're right,” I sighed. “They're good men, aren't they?”
“Almost as good as your father,” she smiled gently. “I think they will be gentle with you. And if they are not, I shall murder them in their sleep.”
My mother said it so casually that I didn't catch her meaning at first. Then I gaped at her, and she winked at me. I burst into laughter. Who knew the Queen had a sense of humor?
“There's my brave girl,” she nodded and stood. “Now get up, Adelysia, and behave like the princess you are. Your kingdom is expecting a grand celebration, and we must provide it for them.”
“A spectacle more like,” I huffed but followed my mother obediently out of my bedroom.
We made our way down to the great hall, and then out into the courtyard. We were headed to the gardens, where the gardeners were waiting for us to instruct them on which blooms to cut. They needed to begin the numerous arrangements to adorn our little chapel and the dining hall. Along the way to the gardens, we passed a small training space, reserved for knights. Evidently, royalty could use the field too. And my soon-to-be husbands were already considered royalty, even though they wouldn't be crowned till after we were wed.
I say “evidently” because all four of my men were sparring on that field. Arnet and Robyn were obviously teaching Barret and Hugin the moves of swordplay, coaching their pupils in the ways of knights. I stopped, and my mother froze with me. Both of us gawked openly at the display of male flesh. All of them were clad only in breeches, sweat dripping over rippling muscles which were covered in four different shades of skin. Hair plastered to their skulls, faces set into grimaces of determination, and their bodies twisted through complicated maneuvers.
Robyn's foot shot out and tripped Barret. “Always watch for treachery,” he said to his little brother. “In war, as in love, anything goes,” Robyn paused to wink at me, letting me know he'd been aware of our presence the entire time.
Robyn bent down and helped the laughing Barret to his feet. Barret gave me a secret smile, and then swiped his foot behind Robyn's knee, while Robyn was busy trying to make sexy eyes at me. Down went Robyn, who stared up at his brother with a mixture of irritation and respect.
So, maybe not exactly the way of knights.
“Well done, Barret,” Arnet hit his brother on the back, then he turned to us and bowed. “Robyn and I felt that all of us should be prepared to defend you if need be, Princess,” then he turned to my mother. “We treasure your daughter, Your Majesty, above all else.”
“As you should,” she nodded primly and drew me away, but I caught her smile as she turned, and I gave the men an encouraging look over my shoulder.
Robyn hadn't bothered to get up. Instead, he laid out in a sensual pose, one leg cocked up and crossed over the other, and blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes, but I, just like my mother, smiled secretly as I left.
Cha
pter Fourteen
The day of my wedding dawned bright and beautiful, shades of rose and orange streaking the sky. I stood on my balcony, wrapped in a fur robe, and watched as it lightened into pale dandelion, and then into pale blue. Clouds appeared, streaking across the blue with pure white slashes. As white as my wedding gown.
I turned to look at the finished dress, hanging from a rack beside my mirror. It looked as if it had been woven into the sleek shape. Every piece, from the fitted sleeves with their rows of pearl buttons, to the skirts with their lace hem, appeared to have been woven together. The neckline was modestly curved, but the waist cinched in tight. The skirts were very full, but since they were made of the finest silk, they would hang heavy around my thighs. There was a train, which would be attached to the dress by a diamond-studded, velvet belt. A matching diamond necklace waited on my vanity, laid on a bed of blue velvet along with my crown. I was already wearing the underclothes Barret had designed for me.
I took a deep breath of the crisp air and allowed myself to be truly happy. My wedding day was here at last. In just a few hours they would be mine, and I would be theirs. No one would be able to separate us. It brought such a feeling of utter peace to me that I wanted to fall to my knees and thank whatever had brought them to me. Be it God or simply good luck. Thank you for changing my life.
I turned when a knock came at my door and watched as a procession of women filed in, led by my mother. She looked radiant, already dressed in her finest crimson gown, and wearing her most elaborate crown. She saw me and started to cry.
“Mother,” I rushed to her. “Why are you crying?”
“I'm just so happy,” she sobbed, “You'll be married to men you love and who love you. I couldn't have hoped for anything better. I'm so sorry I ever opposed this marriage.”
“You were just being my mother,” I shook my head and then hugged her. “And I love you for it.”
“I love you too, Addy,” she pulled back and wiped at her tears. “Now let's make you so beautiful, those men will faint.”
“Fainting men,” Jenny, one of the maids, giggled. “Now that's something I'd love to see.”
“Then get busy, girl,” my mother waved her along. “We have work to do.”
Two hours later, I was standing outside the doors to our chapel, holding my father's arm. My lips and cheeks were lightly rouged, my hair was loose and curling (as Arnet had shaped it once), and my dress was perfect. My father walked me forward, my train flaring out behind me, as I clutched a bouquet of roses and ivy. My men were waiting at the altar with our priest, looking as nervous as any bridegroom could. They were all dressed in white, just as I was, but their garments were leather and velvet. And they looked amazing in them.
They saw me and went still, all of them smiling at once, and my mouth went dry. It was almost too much male beauty to behold at one time. How would I ever hold my own with them? All they would have to do is look at me like that, en masse, and I would crumble. But then I noticed how they stared at me with the same wonderment, as if they couldn't believe we would soon belong to each other.
“That's a set of anxious young men,” my father chuckled.
“And one anxious young woman,” I said back. “Thank you, Father, for giving me this. Them.”
“You're welcome,” the King said as he led me up the little steps to my grooms. “May all of you be happy together,” he said to us. Then he backed away, to stand on the side until he was needed again.
The men came forward, two to either side of me, and I held my hands out to them. Two hands slipped beneath each of mine, and then we all faced the priest together. The priest was nervous, more so than we were, and fumbled through his Bible till he found the page he was looking for. Then he fumbled through the ceremony and fumbled through the blessing. But when it was our turn, and we spoke our vows to each other, we did so clearly, our voices resonating through the chapel with conviction.
I had finally removed the little ring they had given me, so that they could replace it with my wedding band. This was done with all of them holding an edge of the gold ring, and then slipping it carefully on my finger. I smiled at the glimpse of our future, the sharing of everything, even something as small as a ring, and I glanced over my shoulder to see my new father-in-law, Bayard, crying openly beside my mother. He nodded and smiled brilliantly at me.
Then the priest proclaimed us married and stepped back. It was my father's turn. The King strode up with four squires, each one holding a velvet cushion. On the cushions were crowns for the new princes. My father crowned them one by one, proclaiming them all to be his new heirs, the next unified rulers of our kingdom. The small gathering cheered, and then my husbands took my hands and led me out onto the palace steps, where a massive crowd stretched back into the surrounding village.
The King eased past us and proclaimed loudly, “With the greatest joy, I present to you the Princess Adelysia and her new husbands, Prince Robyn, Prince Arnet, Prince Hugin, and Prince Barret!”
The crowd roared, cheering like God himself had come down to earth to announce my marriage. My father beamed, his prediction of a warm reception fulfilled, and we all looked at each other with sublime happiness. Which lasted all of five minutes.
That's when the screaming started.
It was my mother who screamed first, pointing to the sky in terror. I followed her finger to find two dragons bearing down on us at incredible speed. One was a deep black, like distilled evil, and the other a brilliant emerald, brighter than summer grass. They breathed fire over the village as they came, burning my people and sending the survivors running for their lives.
My father shouted to his knights, calling for trebuchets and dragon lances, the calm tactician within him, immediately emerging. He placed my mother firmly into the hands of her ladies and bid them to hide and protect their Queen. They ran off together, and my husbands turned to me, no doubt to say something similar.
“The hell I will,” I snarled and yanked my belt off, tossing the train over the side of the stairs, in a dramatic arc. It fell to the courtyard and was trampled by terrified people.
“Adelysia!” Robyn snarled. “Get inside the castle, now!”
“No,” I watched as my father rushed away to handle the knights, leaving me in, what he surely believed, were capable hands. I turned back to my husband and laid a palm on his cheek. “Sometimes you have to fight for your happiness. I'm done waiting for life to hand me what it will. I have love within my grasp, and I refuse to cower while you defend it for me. We shall defend it together.”
With that, I ran to the nearest pile of lances, thrown down hastily by stumbling squires, and picked up the smallest, lightest one. I knew who those dragons were. Malcolm and Meara, Saunder's parents. They had come to avenge their child, no doubt. Well, they wouldn't find the princess cowering in fright. Not this time. Not this princess.
I ran to the battlements as I heard Arnet shout that he was going for his gun, and for the others to watch over me while he was gone. My remaining husbands cursed, collected their own weapons, and chased after me. Once I reached the top, I stopped and stared. From there, I could see the distant sea and the numerous ships that darkened the horizon. Even if we survived the dragon attacks, we'd still have to face their army. The dragon royals were going to make sure they made us bleed.
We were already bleeding. My people were dying before my very eyes, burning and being torn open by dragon claws. I pulled back my spear and felt my crown go toppling down my back. I didn't care one whit. I may not be a warrior, but I knew how to throw a spear. I had trained with dagger and lance, just as my father had accused me, and I was a fairly good shot. Wouldn't my new husbands be surprised?
“I'm here!” I shouted to the dragons. “Leave my people alone and come face me!”
The dragons screeched and turned in a circle, shining eyes setting on me fiercely.
“Addy!” Barret shouted. “Please come away from there!”
“Just stand beside her,”
Robyn growled. “It's too damn late for anything else.” He gave me an angry but admiring look as he did exactly as he'd suggested to Barret, and stood beside me, hefting his own lance to his shoulder. “We shall defend our love together,” Robyn nodded to me.
“I love you, Robyn,” I said to him, and kissed him quickly, as the dragons screeched in fury. I looked to the others, “I love you all so much.”
“We love you too, Addy,” Hugin shook his head. “Just throw the damn spear already.”
The dragons breathed more fire onto my people, taunting me.
“Come and face me!” I shouted to them. “You strike out at those defenseless beneath you, but you cannot fight one woman with a spear? Cowards!”
The dragons roared. But below them, my people rallied. They shouted and pointed up at me, their princess in her wedding gown, facing down the dragons with her new husbands beside her. It was enough. Enough to motivate them to find weapons and face the threat themselves. Objects started flying at the dragons, everything from pitchforks to pumpkins. The dragons dodged and roared, wheeling in the sky.
I smiled at that. If I died on those battlements, at least my people would know that I had fought for them. With them. That I wasn't some useless jewel to be put on display or given away. Their princess was more than a slave in pretty clothes; she was their defender.
The dragons rushed us and I tensed, preparing to throw my lance.
“Right beneath the chin,” I said to my husbands. “Hit them there, and you'll kill them.”
“Who is this woman we married?” Barret breathed in wonder.
“So we don't have to aim for their eyes; like Arnet does?” Hugin ignored Barret, in preference to teasing me. “Well, that's a relief.”
The dragons dipped and came up along the wall, no doubt intending to roast us as they surged past. I watched their jaws open and tensed. Barret threw his spear. Too soon, I knew it immediately. It missed, ricocheting off the tough dragon scales. A little more... I threw my lance. Seconds later, Robyn threw his, followed closely by Hugin. Both men missed, but they had hit the emerald dragon square in the chest, hard enough to send him veering off course, his fire spewing harmlessly over our heads.
