A Tavern Wench to Bed

by Brenda Williamson

  “How do you feel about getting naked out in the open?” He pushed up and tugged his tunic and shirt off over his head.

  “I don’t have a problem with it.” She sat up and pressed her hands against his hard muscled chest. Then slid them over his shoulders and encompassed his neck, pulling him close. “No problem at all.”

  He kissed her tenderly while leaning forward and lowering her back to the ground.

  “Shouldn’t I get undressed?” She bit at his lip, tugging gently and letting go.

  He kissed her cheek and then nuzzled his face against her neck. “Allow me.”

  One of his hands moved around her, the laces loosened, and her left sleeve slipped from her shoulder. His kisses traveled to all her exposed areas. He nudged her gown down her chest. The heat of his breath dusted her breasts, and his kisses continued. He wet her nipples and a breeze constricted them. The sweet smell of crushed grass beneath her, wafted to her nose. She ran her hand over Henry’s head and curled his locks around her fingers. She closed her eyes and listened to the running water in the stream and the whoosh of wings in the air.

  Then she sat up, pushing Henry aside to draw her gown back into place.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She didn’t have to answer. The flapping sound of a dragon took his gaze from her to the sky. He got to his feet. Without looking, he extended a hand toward her. She took it and let him pull her up.

  “Who is it?” She reached for the laces on her gown.

  He bent and retrieved his tunic. Throwing it over his head, he moved behind her. “Can’t tell, they’ve disappeared into the clouds.” His fingers tickled her spine as he swiftly tied her clothing.

  “Would someone come looking for you? Maybe your brother?” She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Whoever it is, they’re circling wide. I don’t think they saw us.”

  “We’re not hard to miss.” He took her by the arm and led her toward Charger. “Let’s go see just what they’re doing here.”

  “Since they haven’t landed, I assume they’re passing by.”

  “In the glimpse I got, the dragon seemed familiar.”

  “Whose is it?”

  “Like I said, the clouds kept me from seeing clearly.”

  “You’ve ridden against so many dragon riders, I’m sure the animals are all familiar in some way.”

  “True. I just don’t like feeling spied on. All the dragon riders should be at the tournament.

  “What a suspicious nature you have.” She jerked her arm from his grasp. “Might I remind you, we are not at the tournament either. Maybe it’s someone out to do what we were about to.”

  He turned, an argument brewing in his gaze. But she didn’t want to chase after a passerby. Flipping her hair back behind her shoulder, she stood her ground, waiting, hoping he’d change his mind about going.

  As incentive, she rubbed her finger across her bottom lip. Wetting her upper lip with her tongue, she sucked her finger into her mouth.

  Sir Henry’s eyes glazed over as if mesmerized.

  “Do you really want to go flying after that dragon rider?” She tipped her head to the side and coyly twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. If she knew anything, it was how to attract a man’s attention. With Henry, she hardly had to put much effort into the allurement. “I do believe your first choice of activities would be much more fun.”

  Henry’s quick strides brought him to her. Without hesitation, he took her in his arms. His soft and moist lips crushed hers. His unrelenting mouth held hers captive. In the passionately rough and then soothingly tender kiss, he stole her breath.

  Excitement drew her fingers down along his spine and up against the muscles of his back. She took what small gasps of air she could when he briefly released her mouth. They undressed. One article of clothing at a time came off as they took turns. Then they were naked, their hot bodies pressed together. She felt his heart hammering, his pulse beating, his breath quickening. Did he feel all the same from her? Were his thoughts on how wonderful they were together?

  His kisses traveled to the side of her neck. “I love your passion,” he whispered.

  The word love alone was seductive, enlivening. She writhed within the circling of his embrace, anxious to have his hands do more than rub her back and grasp her buttocks. She turned when his hold loosened. Her back against him, she was in place for his touch to roam her front. Back and forth, his fingers stroked her belly. Working upward, he cupped her breasts. He squeezed them gently, kneaded them in his palms, plucked at her nipples. His lips brushed the top of her shoulder, light and airy like the dance of a butterfly not knowing where to land. She turned her head and his mouth settled on hers.

  “Mmm.” She sounded out her pleasure at both the placement of his kiss and his hand gliding between her legs.

  Against her backside, his arousal had turned hot and rock hard. With his hand cupped under her and his other arm slung around her middle, he pulled her tight, trapping his throbbing erection between them.

  “Do you feel that?” he asked.

  Her throat dry from her heavy breathing, she answered hoarsely, “Yes.”

  “Do you want that inside you?” He curled several fingers upward into her.

  “Yes,” she groaned.

  “Tell me how much.” His fingers pressed deeper, strumming her clit with his thumb.

  An orgasm already cresting, she panted. “V. . . very m. . . much.”

  His stroking went faster, heating the channel in her vagina. Her skin dampened with perspiration and she shivered. He hugged her back against him tighter.

  “Cold?” he asked, his free hand caressed her belly and breast.

  “No," she gasped quickly.

  In total climax, she shuddered uncontrollably. She rocked in rhythm to his persistent fingers. Finally, in the wave of her euphoria, depleted of energy, she sagged against him. He kissed her shoulder and nuzzled more up her neck. His lips nibbled at her earlobe. Then both his arms wrapped her tight. He held her as if he’d never let go. If she had a say, she’d agree it was a wonderful position.

  “You know how dragons breed.” It was a statement, not a question. Like horses, and dogs, and cats, and other animals, the male mounted from the rear.

  “Of course.” She looked back at him. “Why?”

  “Get on your knees, Sorcha,” he said, already guiding her downward.

  Understanding his intentions, she leaned forward, resting on her hands. Then she looked back to see his masculine fingers grasp her bottom. He squeezed her flesh several times, making her ass cheeks spread and close. The pumping moves also opened her wet nether lips. The moisture from her orgasm made a distinct sucking sound. She imagined Henry’s mouth in that place, drinking from her. Instead, his hand went in and caught the creamy essence of her orgasm. He dragged the wetness up the crevice of her bottom.

  “I want to take you here, where I can finish inside you.” His thumb rubbed the exact spot he spoke of.

  Her bottom clenched and she stiffened. When he had mentioned dragon breeding, she assumed he meant to fuck her from behind, not in her behind.

  Coated in her juices, Henry’s finger slid into her before she had a chance to decide if she wanted him that way. Afraid the sound of her voice would make him stop she bit her bottom lip and groaned softly.

  * * * * *

  Henry withdrew and rubbed the crinkled ring of Sorcha’s anus. Her tenseness indicated virginity in that area. He liked that she’d never had a man’s cock in her bottom. More and more, he found himself wishing she had never have lain with any man. Knowing he’d be her first in this way appeased the flare-up of jealously. While he had to press his thumb hard through the starburst of flesh the first time, he found the opening relaxing as he massaged it longer.

  He inserted his fingers again and pumped them in and out, slowly twisting his strokes. Each withdrawal, he heard the hitch in Sorcha’s breathing. He was exciting her, and that excited him. Slowly he introduc
ed a third finger, stretching her wider. She moaned louder and rocked back against him. He thrust faster, hearing her mewls of pleasure grow stronger.

  “Henry, please now.” Nervousness fringed her voice.

  Did she believe rushing would get it over quicker? Or was she just eager?

  He slid his hands up her back, around her sides. “Patience,” he whispered, kissing eagerly between her shoulder blades with anticipation of what was to come.

  He moved in and pressed his cockhead through the winking gap. The opening constricted, stopping him from entering further.

  “Relax.” He caressed her bottom and waited.

  With care, he continued his small, patient moves, letting her loosen up. He soon had the entire length of his erection buried. His cock pulsed within the clenching walls of her bottom. The constant crushing pressure stimulated his veins. There was no way he could hold out against the rapacious way her insides tried milking semen from him.

  “God, yes!” he yelled.

  He tried not to move to quickly or thrust too vigorously. Jammed as deep as he could go, he held her at the hips and shuddered, filling her. Involuntarily, his body thrashed several times, slamming his cock deeper.

  “Henry,” Sorcha cried in pain.

  He drew back, dislodging from her. Unfinished, his juices gushed over her backside, coating her bottom. He watched the twitching gap of her anus expelling what he had shot into her. The sight of her trembling ass hypnotized him. He rubbed his hands over her slick skin and poked a thumb into her.

  Her small whimper stopped him. He pulled her up, turned her around and kissed her. They eased down onto the grass and lay entwined in each other’s arms, hugging and kissing as if neither of them could get enough. Then he got up and took her undergarment to the water. He wet it and brought it back. He cleaned her and then himself.

  “Henry,” Sorcha murmured, as he laid her back on the ground.

  She lifted her arms and they made love again, passionately as if it were the first time all over again. It always felt like the first time with her, and he wanted to know that feeling forever.

  Chapter Seven

  Sorcha slipped Henry’s tunic over her head and tugged it down to stave off the chilling air. “I wish we were at Pembroke,” she said, lying forward, to rest on his chest.

  “Why is that?” he cupped the side of her face. “Did you not like the roll in the grass? Or maybe it’s the lack of restraints for my arms and ankles?”

  “It’s not that.” She sighed, feeling such at ease with him. “Since my father died, this place doesn’t feel quite like—”

  “Home?” he answered for her.

  “Yes.”

  “I know the feeling. Not the same way you do. But since my brothers left Pembroke, everything has been different. Quiet. Lonely.

  “Is that why you keep traveling and competing in tournaments?”

  “Up ‘til you asked, I would have said no.” He slid his fingers through her hair over her ear. “I hadn’t realized how I miss the place until I was there with you.”

  Her heart hammered harder. “Let’s go there.” The moment she said it, she was sorry. They had to get back to the tournament field soon.

  “Where?”

  “Pembroke,” she said, wondering if he’d give up the competition for her.

  “Now?”

  “I think t’would be nice to have Thomas prepare me another bath to wash off the residue from my arduous ride of yet another beast.” She smiled.

  “I think I should be the one to draw the water myself.” He pulled her face down to his. “You my sweet, have my permission to take control of the beast any time it suits you. As for your bath, get yourself to your feet and I shall whisk you away to Pembroke this instant.”

  “You’d really take me there right now?” she asked, thinking maybe he didn’t recall where he was supposed to be.

  “Of course. I have nowhere important to be.”

  She sat up and looked to the field of dragons grazing. “ ‘Tis a beautiful idea, but there is the tournament.”

  “The hell with the tournament.”

  The hell with the tournament. She heard the words and wanted to trust they were for the right reason. But it didn’t matter. She had her own reasons for not succumbing to the simple pleasure.

  “You can say that. There will be another for you. If I don’t get someone to accept my challenge, I’ll be out of the dragon training business before I can bat an eye.”

  “I’ll get you dragons to train.”

  “I don’t want your help in that way. A reputation must be built on merit, not charity. Now if you’ll ride against me, then—”

  “No.”

  Sorcha wiggled out from under his arm and got to her feet. She knew the moment she brought up the subject of fighting her dragon against him, the outcome would not be happy.

  “We’ve been over this subject before, Sorcha.”

  “And I’m still not hearing the answer I need.” She waded into the cool stream, lifted the tunic and splashed handfuls of water up her legs. The icy wetness made her shiver.

  “What if I ride Charger for you?” he asked.

  Her inclination was to refuse. But if she publicized the event well, everyone would know she had trained the winning dragon. That might be enough to prove her skills.

  She squatted to remove the stickiness between her legs. “I know him better than you do.”

  “I’ll ride him well and give a good showing.”

  She looked over at him, thinking how well she had just ridden Sir Henry—how well he gave her a good showing in the most intimate way.

  “I’ll need to instruct you first.” She waded out of the stream and went to her clothes.

  “I think I’m capable of riding a dragon without instruction.” He pulled his pants on.

  “All dragons have quirks. You’re so used to Nimbly’s clumsy maneuvers you’ll no doubt overcompensate unnecessarily for some moves.” She removed the tunic and picked up her dress.

  She noticed Henry pause his own dressing to watch her slip her dress over her head.

  “What if I take a test run right now?” He put on his shirt.

  She watched him slide his foot into one boot and stomp to get it all the way on. He picked up the other to do the same. She held his tunic to her nose and inhaled his scent lingering on the cloth. A blend of other smells mingled—dragon hide, clover, leather and her.

  Henry marched off toward Charger grazing on the side of the hill. She dropped the tunic and picked up her shoes, then hurried to catch up. He’d need her coaching on the intricacies of her dragon’s best attributes.

  He turned, stopping her. “You stay here.”

  “I can’t instruct you from down here. You need me to explain how to handle Charger.”

  His brow rose. “Milady, I’ve been riding dragons for years. There is little you can tell me that I don’t already know.”

  “You also know each dragon has his or her strong and weak features. Charger prefers. . . . ”

  “Let me show you how well I can ride him first,” Henry interrupted. “Then, if you feel you must tell me something important, I will listen.”

  “Dragon riders,” she muttered, watching him walk off. Had she ever met one who wasn’t arrogant enough to think he knew everything?

  * * * * *

  Henry approached Sorcha’s dragon with care. He and the dragon were not friends. . . yet. Charger lifted his head from where he grazed and eyed him cautiously. Sorcha stood back, reluctantly resigned to letting him try. Without her near, the animal was naturally wary. Charger studied Henry, debating whether to trust him or not.

  “You remember me, don’t you boy,” he said in his most soothing tone.

  Charger’s nostrils flared. When they twitched, Henry prepared to dive out of the way should flames come curling out. Stallions were such a temperamental lot. One never knew what their reaction would be, which was why most dragon riders chose geldings. At the very least, they
opted for mares, though females, too, could have unpredictable manners.

  “Easy, boy,” he cooed. “I’ve been on you several times now, remember.”

  Charger stretched out his long neck, arching it slightly, making the gray-green, crescent scales ruffle open. His nostrils quivered again. Then his head bobbed. Henry didn’t believe for a second that the animal had understood him to the point of actually answering, but he moved closer. Charger blinked. His heavy lids rolled downward. Thick dark lashes fell against the grey green saggy skin beneath his eyes. And then they rose up. Like large black saucers, his irises and pupils expanded, showing alertness. Nevertheless, his head came back down slowly, with much the same hesitation Sorcha had displayed. The trait had obviously passed from trainer to trainee.

  He took hold of the reins and tugged, urging the dragon to kneel. It surprised him that Sorcha hadn’t said a word. She hadn’t shouted a single instruction. He liked that sign of confidence she had in him. However, one or two insights into the dragon’s demeanor would have been nice.

  The air stirred around him and he looked to the west for signs of a storm. His sudden move startled Charger and the dragon rose up.

  “That wasn’t nice of me, now was it?” He tapped the dragon’s shoulder for him to lower again.

  Charger turned his head and looked back at him.

  “Is something wrong?” Sorcha called.

  “No. Just noticing the weather is changing.” He tapped the dragon’s shoulder again. “Let’s not let that be a set back our acquaintance.”

  Charger lowered. Henry stuck his foot in the stirrup and swung up onto the saddle.

  “Are you worried you’ll get wet?” Amusement sparkled in Sorcha’s eyes.

  “No.” He nudged the dragon’s shoulder with his heel and the dragon rose.

  “Afraid Charger will be nervous and give you a jerky ride?”

  Was that a warning she gave him? He looked again at the darkening sky. Some dragons were terrified of formidable weather. They had a right to be. Not only was thunder louder than them, but the dragon made for a big target for a lightning strike.