by Dee Brice
“The air may be warm, Edina, but the water is cold. This river flows down from the highest mountains and even in June is frigid.”
“Oh! I had hoped for a refreshing swim.” She gazed boldly into his eyes for a long moment. Looking down, she plucked at the ends of a hemp belt tied around her slender waist. Her brunette kirtle, borrowed perhaps from one of Yvonne’s maids—the dark brown fabric was too finely woven to belong to a crofter—was topped by a loose, over- large rochet. The neckline drooped down her left arm, revealing a butterfly beauty mark on her pale shoulder.
“Do you swim often when you are at home?” he asked, wondering where she had gotten the clothing, but liking the way she looked in the simple clothes.
“Oh no. The ocean is always too cold for swimming. Row and—I do, however, wade in the confluence. Unless of course Mother is near.” Edina stretched her arms over her head. “Being out of her sight—even for a short time—is a precious gift, Gerard. Thank you.” She lowered her arms.
Damn, he thought. When she’d stretched, he’d hoped she was reaching up for him. That she would tug on his swelling shaft until he sat beside her. That she would press him down then lie atop him until…until nature took its natural course.
I am a gentleman, he reminded himself. A prince. And Edina is a lady, not a lightskirt to be taken on this hard ground. I barely know her—or even if she is who she says she is. I should not want her this soon.
But want her he did. Badly.
“I enjoy solitude. Having your company increases my pleasure. Ergo, I must thank you,” he said, his tone surprisingly carefree. He meant the words, no matter how indifferent he’d tried to sound.
“Perhaps… Never mind.” She sighed again and shifted her sagging neckline to her shoulder. Her right sleeve slid down her arm.
“I heard that your father and mother will leave tomorrow. ‘Tis true?”
“Aye.” Glancing up at him, she added, “Castle gossip here is even faster than at Beaufort.”
“Will you stay?”
“Yvonne has asked us—asked me to stay. She claims she misses her sisters already and believes my presence will ease her loneliness.”
“You don’t believe her?” Gerard slid her blouse up her arm only to watch the other sleeve slide down again.
“If I had a handsome man in my bed I would miss no one,” she said. A blush crept up her slender neck to pinken her cheeks.
Caught between mirth and jealousy of his married brother, Gerard stroked his fingertips down her soft cheek, gently tracing the butterfly on her left shoulder. “You think Gareth handsome?”
“Both he and Edgar are handsome men, Gerard. Yet of the three of you, I think you the most handsome.”
Preening, he said, “Aye? What is it about me you find appealing?”
She punched his shoulder. “Your modesty,” she replied with a giggle. Tracing his eyebrows, she continued. “I like the sound of your voice. The way your eyes twinkle just before you laugh. I admire your warrior’s hands.”
“They are rough. Calloused.”
“So are mine.”
“From needlework. I remember.”
She giggled again. “I am forever losing my thimbles.” She took his hand. Holding it to her cheek, she said, “I like feeling this roughness on my skin. I would like— Oh, I am too bold. You’ll think me a wanton.”
“Never.” Scooping her into his arms, he settled her on his lap, her back to his chest. “Perhaps you’ll find telling me your thoughts easier if you cannot see me.”
She wiggled her bottom against his swelling shaft.
He stifled a groan. “Tell me,” he whispered against her shell-like ear.
“I…I want to feel your hands on my body. All over my body.”
Sliding his hands over her breasts, he cupped them. Her nipples pebbled against his palms. “Like this?” He plucked their hardness and savored her soft moan.
“Y-Yes.” Her head sagged back against his shoulder. Lambent blue eyes peered up at him before her dark lashes drifted down. “Would you kiss me, Gerard?”
“Later. Just now I want to focus on your breasts.” He stroked her areola, gently pinching her nipples. Could he bring her to bliss just caressing her responsive breasts?
“Ohhh Gerard. The m-maids whisper about pleasure…but I had no… Gerard, what is happening to me?”
“Tell me, Edina. Tell me what you feel.”
“I am soaring. My body wants to fly apart. I am hot and wet between my thighs. I-I ahh—want your hands between my legs. Your rough…wonderfully calloused…fingers inside me.” Her fingers clenched around his wrists. Her back arched as if she wanted his hands inside her skin. Her bottom shifted restlessly on his thickening, lengthening shaft.
Easing his hands beneath her rochet, he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Her hands tightened even more around his wrists and she writhed, her lush bottom rubbing, rubbing, rubbing his aching shaft. He could feel her heat, feel her juices begin to seep through her lightweight kirtle, but he was determined not to give way to his own passion. Her pleasure was his primary goal—for now at least. Her skin was so soft, her breasts so firm he wanted his hands on her for as long as she would allow.
When she looked up at him, desire and confusion in her eyes, he could no longer resist. He had to taste her. “Tilt your chin up, sweeting. Perfect.” He brushed her lips with his, back and forth, lingering a little longer each time. His tongue darted out, swept her mouth from corner to corner until, sighing, she parted her lips. He eased between her teeth to explore every curve and flavor.
Whimpering, she arched her back, pressing her breasts into his stroking hands, opening her mouth wider and kissing him as avidly as he kissed her.
“Your skin feels soft as rose petals. Your voice the sweetest flute. I want to keep touching you, sweet. Keep kissing you. Keep stroking your nipples until you…”
She made little mewing sounds in her throat then cried out, “Oh. Oh. Ohhhh!”
Her entire body shook. Then she seemed to swoon in his arms.
“Edina? Are you all right?”
“I have never felt so perfectly right in my entire life.” She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “If I stroke your nipples, will you find equal pleasure?”
“Perhaps. But not just now.”
“Will you kiss me again? Please?”
“As you wish, Edina.” With more gentleness than he thought himself capable of, he pressed his lips to hers. Like a rose opening beneath the warm sun, her lips parted to his inquisitive tongue. He tasted her mouth. Once more he drank in strawberries and rich, clotted cream. Her taste nearly drove his goal from his mind. His aching shaft reminded him.
He continued to kiss her while his fingers inched her kirtle up her slender, parting legs. Her nether curls felt as silky as those on her head. He stroked them, probing deeper until he found her pleasure nub.
She moaned. Arched into his questing hand. Spread her thighs wider. Sighed and moaned again.
“Sweet, sweet… Oh Gerard. ‘Tis happening again.”
He slid a single finger into her hot moisture. And nearly came in his breeches when her queynte spasmed again and again. And again until he could bear no more.
He rolled her to her back. Tore open his breeches. Plunged into her. She cried out once. Then—miracle of miracles—she matched his lunges and retreats as if born to bring him this exquisite pleasure.
Her release sucked him deeper. His name on her lips brought him to his own.
Panting still, sweat dripping from his forehead onto hers, he smiled down at her. She blinked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Guilt washed over him. “I did not mean to hurt you,” he muttered, kissing her gently.
“These are tears of joy, Gerard. But…”
“But?” he repeated, the anguish in his voice surprising him.
She giggled. “I think we must brave the frigid water, m’lord. I can smell my perfume on your skin. Your scen
t on my own.”
“Next time,” he muttered in her ear.
“Next time, m’lord?” Her eyebrows added invitation to the flirtatious question.
“Next time we’ll bring soap.”
Edina searched his eyes. Expecting to find regret or recrimination, her heart took wing at the tenderness she saw. Her lady-in-waiting had warned both Edina and her sister that once a man had a woman he lost respect for her. She knew she should have made Gerard wait. But the minute she felt his hands on her skin, her flesh began to heat. She’d wanted him so badly all she could think about was how wonderful his lightest touch made her feel. How right it felt to have him, his cock inside her. And she blessed every maid whose gossip led her to believe swiving could feel so exquisite.
“Gerard?” she murmured, stroking perspiration from his bushy eyebrows.
Rolling to his back, his arms still around her, he smoothed a skein of hair off her face. “I’ll need a few minutes to recover, sweet Edina.”
“Oh! I did not mean… ‘Tis only that…I would like to see you naked.”
“I believe I can accommodate you, Edina.” He sat up, taking her with him. Tugging her rochet over her head, he cupped her breasts.
Giggling, she slapped his hands away. “I want to see you naked.”
Spreading his arms and grinning, he playfully demanded, “Have at me then. I promise I’ll do nothing to impede you.”
“You could help.”
“All right.” He pulled off his boots and once more held out his arms.
Shooting him an exasperated look, she tugged his shirt out of his loosened breeches “Well?”
“Perhaps you should come nearer. That way you can reach me more easily.”
She rose to her knees, scooting toward him. In a nonce, she stripped off his shirt and sat back on her heels to admire him.
Between his flat nipples, silky-looking golden curls formed a light pelt across his massive chest. Unable to resist, she slid her fingers into those curls and sighed when they felt as soft as she’d imagined. Following the springy locks down his muscled belly, she eased her hand into his breeches, curling her fingers around his cock.
His breath hissed.
“Did I hurt you?” Looking up, she found his teeth clenched, his eyes slitted as if he were in agony.
“Only in the most pleasant way.”
She eased his breeches down his powerful thighs. “Oh my,” she sighed, circling his cock, stroking up and down, smiling when it surged in her hand. “You are very large, Gerard.”
“Aye. ‘Tis why I hurt you. I should have—”
“Done exactly as you did. I think it would have hurt more had you tarried. I believe ‘twas your size that…um… Please remove your breeches.”
“Only if you remove your kirtle.”
Standing, she quickly obeyed. He also stood, his cock extending out from his body like an axe handle. When it snapped upward to pulse against his belly, her breath whooshed out. “A truly hard spear.”
“That wants inside you again, Edina.” Drawing her into his arms, he lowered them both to the ground. “Sit on my lap and I’ll take us both to heaven.”
Straddling him, she felt his cock slide between her nether lips, building the fire within her. He cupped her breasts, his fingers teasing her nipples to rigid, aching peaks.
“Suckle me, Gerard.”
He did, thrusting his hips so his cock rubbed her little nub until she cried out in need.
“Tell me what you want, Edina.”
“In me. I…want you in me.”
He found her channel, thrust deep into her, waiting until her muscles relaxed. Pushing her breasts together, he flicked his tongue over each nipple. Fire flashed between those aching points and her quim.
“I must move,” she whimpered.
“Then move,” he muttered, sucking harder. “Ride me, Edina. Ride me hard.”
The little ache his rigid size caused vanished as she glided faster and faster up and down it. “Good. So good.” Her breath came in rapid pants as she felt her body gather for that bliss, that heaven he had promised. He bit her nipples. Ecstasy roared through her. Stars danced beneath her eyelids and she screamed her joy.
Flipping her on her back, Gerard demanded, “Look at me, Edina. I want to see your eyes when I take you to heaven again.”
“C-Can’t…again.”
“Can and will.”
His slow withdrawal and even slower descent wrenched cries of need from her. “Ohmigod. Oh my… Good God!”
His gasps matched hers as he drove deeper. Her spasms took him over the edge of the Earth, and he erupted deep inside. She saw his eyes glaze before her own closed and she sighed contentment.
“Can and did,” he announced unnecessarily, collapsing against her chest.
* * * * *
Aida’s Tower Guest Quarters
Late the next afternoon, Edina gazed dreamily out the solar window. Fascinated, she watched Gerard and Edgar strip to their waists to grapple like bears trying to maul each other to death. Perspiration and fury apparently prevented their attaining a firm grip.
The outer door crashed against the wall then slammed closed so hard Edina feared the hinges would shatter.
“What the devil did you do yesterday, Edina?” Rowena shouted as she strode across their shared solar. Her face flushed, her eyes blazing fiercely, she glowered at her twin.
“I? You know Gerard and I took nuncheon by the river.”
“Did you eat before or after,” she shook Edina, furiously adding, “you bedded him?”
Shrugging Rowena’s hands off her shoulders, Edina took a few steps beyond slapping distance. “Not that I’m admitting anything—”
“Of course not!”
Edina grinned at her fuming twin. “What makes you think Gerard and I bedded?”
“Bartholomew’s balls!” Rowena borrowed one of Yvonne’s favorite curses. “Gerard practically attacked me! He came at me like…like flies on a pile of manure.”
“And Edgar did the same to me! What did you and he do yesterday?”
“We kissed, nothing more.” Her sigh sounded regretful. “Not that I did not want more. Nor could he hide his desire for me but,” she shrugged, “for once I took the cautious path.”
“While I rushed precipitously over the cliff.”
“Which is quite unusual for either of us,” Rowena observed, rubbing the frown from her forehead. “What is there to laugh about, Edina?”
“I thought you laughed.”
As if expecting Queen Kerrie or some other ghost to appear, each glanced around the solar.
“What was it like?” Rowena asked, dispelling her fanciful imaginings. Kerrie, may she rest in peace, was dead.
Edina sighed. “Contrary to what Joan told us, it hurt only for a moment. Probably because he drove me wild before he…before we did it.”
“Did you enjoy Edgar’s kisses?”
“No. He bruised my lips, he kissed so roughly.” She shivered then asked, “Did you like Gerard’s kisses?”
“No! He…felt like a fish. Yes, exactly like a fish with its mouth sucking for air.”
“Imagine that! I never knew you had kissed a fish.”
“Lots of fishes.” Rowena winked.
“Do you think Gerard realizes he kissed a…a stranger?”
“In truth, I cannot say yea or nay. He gazed at me so long I believe he saw through my—our—rochet. Then he drew the strings around my neckline tighter and suggested we return to the castle.” She drew a deep breath, blurting, “Do you think Edgar knew?”
“I made excuses. Told him my flux had arrived.”
“What?” Rowena screeched.
Edina backed away from her sister’s hands. When Rowena slapped, she slapped hard.
“I did not say flux, Row. I said the bright sun had given me a headache.”
“I suppose you revealed my—your condition—while standing in the orchard.”
“Y-Yes.”
“
In the shady orchard?”
“Y-Yes. But the walk was sunny.”
“So! While you and Gerard rut like rabbits, Edgar and I must suffer—through no one’s fault save yours—abstinence.”
“You’ll not suffer alone. M-My flux arrived this afternoon.”
“God does exist!” Rowena crowed.
* * * * *
Marchon Castle Training Field
Their fingers clenched around sweat-slicked biceps, Gerard and Edgar glared at each other. The brothers grappled for firmer holds. To no avail. Sweat made their hands slide. Marchon knights and men-at-arms cheered them on, but booed when Edgar raised his hands and managed to slip from Gerard’s sweaty grasp.
“We need to talk,” Edgar panted.
“Aye? Before or after I kill you?”
Edgar grinned. “I would prefer to talk before I kill you.”
Gerard slung an arm around Edgar’s neck then squeezed lightly.
“’Tis fortunate,” Yvonne called out as she strode toward them, “that Gareth is with his men.”
Her own men grinned at her, but quickly retrieved their weapons and resumed trying to kill each other.
“I’ve half a mind to shove you both into the oubliette. But then I would have to explain why. No doubt Gareth would banish you both to some hideous place outside Marchon and Puttupon.”
Sliding her chain mail hauberk off her head, Yvonne’s green eyes flashed anger up at them.
“How can you wear armor in this heat?” Edgar wondered aloud.
“Wars rage in summer. And do not attempt to distract me! Go! Cool off in the river. Talk about those odious females. Then thank God their parents left Marchonland. And do not try to drown each other!” She stalked away.
“Whew!” Gerard muttered. “I am glad Gareth won her. I’d not wish to face Yvonne in full fury.”
Retrieving their shirts, wiping their sweaty faces, they headed for the river.
“We should have talked last night.”
Gerard nodded. “Should have. But Gareth insisted he and I meet with Captain Cheney. Sometimes, little brother, I envy you.”
“For being left out? Gareth still views me as an infant.”
“And thinks me a dunderhead. That I must hear every plan thrice for it to sink in.”
