With a laugh, he lifted his hand and curled his fingers into the scoop neck of her beautiful gown. He gave it a hard yank and split it down the front, exposing most of her breasts. Instinctively, she covered them with her arms.
“How I’d like to take my time with that bounty.” As he leered, he licked his lips. The thought of him slobbering all over her was revolting and she gagged. Then it got worse. “First, I’d bind them tight until they swell, turning dark red or a lovely shade of purple. Then I’d clamp the hard tips and whip them until you begged for mercy. Unfortunately, I’m pressed for time and a quick hard fuck will have to suffice.”
“You’re deranged.”
“Possibly, though it has made my life interesting.” He shrugged with indifference before his hands dropped to his pants. “On your knees, slave. First, I’ll fill your mouth, then your cunt, after that I’ll flip you over on all fours and plow your ass. Has he taken you there yet?” he asked gleefully. “I bet not. I’ll be your first ass fuck. I’ll leave you for Mills with my seed leaking out of every hole. Won’t that be fun?”
She retched as the images made her stomach churn. “I’d rather die!”
He pulled a jewel-encrusted dagger from its sheath. “That can be easily arranged, although that would end Mills’ suffering too soon and we can’t have that.”
She retreated, crawling backwards on her hands and feet as he stalked her. After she bumped into a huge bag of flour and a sack of meal, she rolled over and scrambled more quickly on hands and knees, but in the small storage room she could only go so far and ended up cornered.
“Now,” he drawled, raising the dagger. “I won’t ask nicely again. Start sucking my cock, without teeth mind you, or I’ll start carving my initials into your pretty skin. Your master won’t find you as tempting after that, will he? Maybe a scripted E on one cheek and an I on your ass so we brand both sides.”
“Please, don’t do this,” she whispered, knowing his violation would be too much for Corbet to abide.
Ervin seemed to read her mind. “Do you think he’d rather have you defiled and beautiful or hideously disfigured yet untouched when it’s all said and done?”
“I hate you!” she screamed.
“And I don’t care that you do. It doesn’t bother me in the least so long as you open your mouth for my cock.”
“How can anyone be so vile?”
“Easy. Power corrupts. I have that power, given to me by the king, which allows me to corrupt sweet young things like you.” He took the dagger and sliced it through the last remaining lace on her bodice. It was all that had been keeping her breasts from tumbling free when he ripped her gown; now they were on complete display for his lewd stare. “Kneel, bitch, or your pretty white tits are next.”
She trembled as he waved the edge of the sharp dagger close to her nipple. A glance at his face showed the lust he barely contained. Staring fixedly at her breasts, his body vibrated as his free hand, which had torn away his codpiece, was working a shockingly large prick.
“This is your last warning, slut.”
Slowly, she came to her knees as she recited a silent prayer for salvation.
Suddenly, the door banged open.
“Ervin, have you lost your mind?” It was the king, as angry as before.
The earl spun, bringing Emilia with him as he raised the knife to her throat.
Nordman shook his head, his face crimson. “This is it. You’ve gone too far, attacking one of my richest vassals. I’m tired of cleaning up your messes and can no longer protect you.”
“My messes? This slave has escaped from Lancore and I have the right as lord to imprison her former master and make her my own. If I choose to do so here and now, who is to naysay me?”
“Your king, for one! Your power has gone to your bloated head, fool. I’m here today because there has been a line of subjects complaining at my door over your foul practices. One of which is Selkirk, my finest horse breeder. That’s his daughter, you idiot.”
“So?”
“He is of value to me and I intend to keep him loyal. As is Mills, who fills my coffers with gold.”
“Are they of more value than me? Your most trusted earl?”
“When one produces superior horseflesh that helps me fight two wars on two fronts and the other helps me mount my knights in the best leather saddles? Hell, yes! You do naught except create havoc.”
“You forget what I know,” Ervin replied, almost boastful, his tone entirely too cocky. Emilia didn’t know what they were referring to, though she could tell he was pushing the king.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he snapped as his gaze shot to her, then back to Ervin, an unmistakable warning in his fierce frown. “You would lose all you possess thanks to me.”
“As would you, my king. Tit for tat as they say.”
Nordman’s face turned ten shades of red and she thought surely his head would explode. “You dare threaten me!” he howled. “I’ll have you strung up. No, I’ll have you beheaded, drawn and quartered, your miserable carcass posted on a dozen pikes around the palace and allow the carrion to pick you clean. That’s the usual sentence for the assassin of a king.”
She lowered her eyes, the only reaction she allowed, although it was hard. The rumors that had made the rounds these past eight years had just been confirmed in her presence. She was afraid to blink, to breathe, especially when Ervin moved behind her and she saw something fly across the room.
A dreadful gurgling sound made her look up. When she did, she recoiled at the gruesome sight of the earl’s dagger protruding from the king’s neck. Blood poured down his doublet, changing the purple to black as he sank to his knees with a thud, then he fell stiffly forward, landing flat on his face.
Her stomach rolled and threatened to rebel, not so much from the violence of the act, rather the knowledge that she had borne witness to regicide.
“It appears you will get your wish, slut, since you’d rather die.”
He shoved her aside, the force sending her falling into some shelves. She knew his intent as he stalked across the room. As soon as he retrieved his dagger, she would be next, silencing the sole witness to his capital crime. She searched frantically for a weapon. Crates, jars, sacks of grain were all she saw. Settling on a jar of tomatoes that was within reach, she averted her face as she brought it down hard on the edge of a shelf. It shattered, leaving a mess and thankfully a jagged edge. She twisted around, holding it in front of her.
He was standing with the bloody knife at the ready. As she lifted the glass to ward him off, movement behind him distracted her. She bit her lip to keep silent. Unfortunately, the glance over his shoulder had already given her away. The earl whirled, coming face to face with Corbet.
Sword raised toward Ervin’s chest, her husband spared her a brief, albeit comprehensive look, lingering on her injured cheek before scanning down her front, his eyes glowing hot with rage as he took in her torn bodice. “Did he touch you, Emilia?” he asked with eerie calm.
“He struck me and dragged me by my hair.” Too distraught to keep up a similarly cool façade, her voice shook. “And he ripped my wedding dress.”
“Did he touch you?” he repeated, the calm turning into a chilling stillness.
“He means did I rape you, little fool.”
His attention focused on Ervin as the tip of his sword extended, coming to rest on his throat.
“You can’t mean to challenge me; you’ve a sword and I’ve a dining dagger.”
Corbet moved his arm out to his side and dropped his longsword on the floor out of reach. He then drew the stiletto he always wore sheathed at his waist. “Now we’re even, Ives. This has been a long time coming; prepare to meet your maker and account for your sins.”
The earl charged and stabbed at him first. He was clumsy and slow, however, and in his arrogance, plainly thought he could defeat a leather smith—the fool. Corbet, she knew having witnessed it herself, trained with his sword regularly, and had superior upper b
ody strength from his work with leather and horses. He was also young and fit, and easily sidestepped the earl.
He countered immediately with a flick of his wrist. This lowered his long dagger and in a downward slice, swiftly and surely lopped off the devil’s prick that still lay exposed in his open hose. Corbet didn’t flinch, looking on as Ervin screamed, his hands dropping to his groin as he squealed like the stuck pig he was.
Aghast, Emilia shrieked out of surprise, rather than horror.
When Corbet spoke, his voice was deathly cold, filled with the icy rage that had been brewing for nearly a decade. “That is for Alice and all the other innocent victims you’ve tormented for years.”
The earl was determined, or irrational from loss of blood, she wasn’t sure which, but he raised his knife and took a vicious swipe. Corbet deflected it easily, wasting no time in plunging his stiletto deeply into his gut. “And that is for Sara.”
Ervin staggered back. Emilia saw him teeter and barely had time to scramble out of the way before he landed with a plop on a stack of flour sacks. His hand, which surprisingly still clutched his weapon, rose futilely to his belly as blood flowed freely from both wounds.
“I didn’t kill your wife.”
“You ordered it so,” Corbet growled. “Admit it.”
“Mercy,” the man cried.
“Tell me the truth and I might be merciful.”
“So be it. You had defied me too many times and I wanted to make you suffer.” He coughed, blood dribbling from his lips. “Please, you promised mercy. I beg of you.”
“So I did.” Corbet stepped away and bent to retrieve his sword. “And as a man of my word, I’ll show you the same mercy you’ve shown the citizens of Lancore.”
She couldn’t stifle the gasp that rushed between her lips as he drew the weapon back in a sideways two-fisted grip, his intent clear.
“Close your eyes, Emilia,” he directed.
Knowing he meant to spare her the heinous image, she obeyed. Still, she heard the swish and the subsequent thud as he delivered the coup de grace, and beheaded the odious lord in a most fitting fashion. At long last, there would be an end to the boundless suffering he had perpetuated.
She heard boots scuff across the floor. “Keep them closed tight, sweetling. You don’t need to see this in your dreams.”
He scooped her up in his arms and he made his way from the room. She buried her face in his neck, clinging to him as she whispered, “It had to be done, my love. He caused so much pain and too many deaths. And he killed the king in cold blood; none will fault what you did, husband.”
“That which happened will not faze me one bit. He was the devil incarnate, here on earth. The only regret is that you had to suffer his presence and his touch.” He kissed the top of her head as he strode back toward the great hall. At the doors, he paused and pulled a cloth from a table to cover her breasts.
Once she was wrapped up, her modesty protected, he passed through the doors and announced loudly, “It is over. Lord Ervin is dead by my hand, as is the king by his.”
“King Nordman is dead?” one knight asked in clarification.
“Yes, Ervin stabbed him in the neck with his dagger.” A murmur swept through the room as fighting ceased. The knights who came with Ervin lowered their swords. Ranulf, the king’s knight who had been assigned to Lancore, spoke next.
“Thank you, Sir Corbet, for releasing us from his ruthless control. I served at the behest of the king. Now that both he and the earl are gone, I am free of their service.”
“As am I,” said another Lancore knight.
“And I, thank the Almighty,” exclaimed another.
“He held our family’s hostage for our service,” Ranulf explained. “My daughter is twelve and promised to one of his vassals when she is fifteen. He promised she would remain unharassed if I served him true.” He strode forward and knelt before Corbet. “The horrible deeds he demanded of us… Thank you, sir, for ending our indenture, unofficial though it was; the next lord cannot possibly be as cruel.”
Another took a knee at Corbet’s feet, as did another. Soon all of the troop who had served Ervin were bowing to him, swearing to champion him if ever he should need them.
Emilia and Corbet both looked on, dumbstruck. Silence encompassed the room as the others tried to absorb what had happened that day. Footsteps rang out as a younger man approached.
No more than twenty, the young man had blood on his clothes, his face was flushed and dripping with sweat, clearly having fought as hard as the rest. Stopping before Corbet, he bowed low at the waist. “You have my thanks for avenging my king, lousy sovereign though he was. Trust that I intend to do a better job when I take the throne.”
A collective gasp echoed through the room as one by one they recognized Geoffrey, the son of Athelmas’ brother and the next in line to the throne. The mesmerized crowd dropped to their knees.
A beat slower than the rest, Corbet stood her on her feet. Following suit, he too sank to his knees, tugging her down beside him.
“Long live good King Geoffrey,” someone murmured. The others picked up the short chant until soon the gathering was repeating it loudly, hopeful that a new era of goodness dawned as they closed the lengthy chapter on vice, manipulation, and evil.
Epilogue
Three months later…
Walking swiftly down the long corridor, his booted heels struck the polished stone floor with a purpose. His tread was light in his exuberance as he rushed to his destination, the sound echoing loudly in the brightly lit hallway. He barely noticed the faces of the former kings and queens as they stared out at him from their gilded frames. He grinned to himself as he neared the hall that would take him to his chambers.
He nodded a greeting to the guards who snapped to attention as he passed. They seemed surprised to be acknowledged, but he gave them their due, not one to put on airs, despite his new position.
Lord Corbet Mills, earl of Lancore.
He grinned as the title rattled around in his head. It seemed absurd, but the thought of the power he could wield in order to put to rights the wrongs and injustices he’d witnessed in the last decade gave him a sense of determination. He’d readily accepted the king’s appointment, but declined the manor home out of hand. No one blamed him, considering all the wicked things that occurred within those walls. And, no one had questioned when the abandoned structure had caught fire one morning some weeks back and burned to the ground.
Emilia had lamented not being there to witness it firsthand, and kicked up her heels in a jig in celebration. Laughing to himself, he quickened his pace, eager to get to his bride.
He eased open the door without knocking, the only one who would dare to do so. As he closed it quietly behind him, his gaze sought the bed, which was bathed in the soft light of a dozen candles. His body responded to the sight of the beautiful Titian-haired woman gazing back at him from amidst the silken sheets and bountiful pillows.
“You look stunning, sweetling, though I thought you be long asleep by now.”
“I tried, but I couldn’t.”
“Too excited?”
“I’ve never been to a coronation before, or lay in a bed of silk, or slept in a palace.”
He chuckled. “You haven’t slept yet. And I have never taken my lovely wife in a palatial castle. I’d like to see to that before we rest.”
He began removing his clothing, carefully laying his coat of arms, signifying the earl of Lancore, over the clothes rack. When he turned back, he stilled, his cock growing to full length at the sight of her kneeling naked beside the bed. Her skin glowed beautifully and her full breasts rose and fell more rapidly than usual. With her chin dipped to her chest, her thighs parted, and her palms lying open on her thighs, she awaited him.
“Emilia, what is this?”
“You truly are my lord and master now. I wanted to swear fealty and as well as my love and devotion. I thought this appropriate.” Her chin tipped up, a smile gracing her lips as she
let her head fall back, revealing the velvet collar around her throat, the one he had given her months ago for her role as his slave. Never had he thought the winds of fate would shift so severely and bestow such happiness upon them.
He walked to her, taking her chin tenderly in his hand as he gazed down at her loveliness.
“Does your slave please you, master?”
“Nothing has ever given me more pleasure. Up on the bed, now.”
She eagerly bounded to her feet and lay back. Her arms extended above her head and she arched her back in a seductive stretch, as her perfect breasts tempted his fingers, as did the glimpse of glistening pink wetness between her slightly parted thighs. Always it revealed the extent of her desire for him. It was too much to deny.
With haste, he skimmed his hands up her legs, separating them far apart as he moved up on the bed. His mouth came down and he licked her sweetness.
They groaned together.
“Never will I get enough of you.” His mouth opened and he devoured her honeyed folds.
“My lord, I wanted to be the one to give you pleasure.”
His fingers delved into her center, two of the gliding in and out of her slickness. “You please me. I enjoy watching you tremble as I lead you to the brink of ecstasy, hold you there, teasing you, making you writhe and squirm with my fingers and tongue, until you can’t withstand anymore and fly apart in my arms. Nothing is as beautiful as when you let go.”
“I’m glad,” she murmured, her hips moving restively, the need clearly growing stronger within her, “but I wanted tonight to be special.”
“Then we’ll make it so.”
His tongue flicked over the bud that was an infinite source of pleasure for her. He played with her there often and intended to give her something new tonight, something decadent and wickedly carnal that he knew they both would enjoy. He lifted her legs with his hands on the back of her thighs, spread her incredibly wide, and ran his tongue the entire length of her slit. Stopping in the middle to tongue fuck her, his finger flicked the bud until her cries filled the room. Then he moved lower, circling her still unclaimed opening with the tip of his tongue. Certainly, he had teased her before, licking, touching, even dipping in slightly, but tonight he would claim it as his own.
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