In the Forest of the Night & The Barmaid and the Blacksmith

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “Joshua.” She said his name with an affectionate sigh.

  The way she said it made the blacksmith sigh himself, there was such a lush quality in her voice, the same lushness in her body, and every fragrant part of her. He could not get enough of her as his hands groped the places that he’d earlier missed. He’d not miss a one by the time the night was over.

  When he rolled her body off of his, he rose to pee at the basin, and run a cool cloth over his skin.

  Fiona lay back on her “princess bed” looking around the unfamiliar room, with its lace and finely crafted furniture, and tapestry on the wall.

  “You are no ordinary blacksmith,” she observed.

  “And you’re no ordinary barmaid,” he returned, as he came back to the bed.

  “Will you tell me why you sport these fine things, and shoe horses all day long?” she asked him.

  He moved in next to her in the bed after watching her for some moments, admiring her lovely generous assets.

  “In good time, but not now,” he answered. She detected a degree of hurt in his dark eyes when he said this. It was something she’d never seen in him before. She was sure that there was something unspeakable in his past, and for the moment it wasn’t necessary to know what it was about. But she was sure that there were mysteries about him that would shock her perhaps, and she liked that. She liked having a man of mystery as her own. The intrigue was another seductive aspect of him, that drew her deeper into his sumptuous lair.

  Chapter Six

  Fiona gazed at Joshua as he sat with his back to her at the roughhewn dining table. His dark hair had been freshly washed earlier that morning and she thought of running her hands through it. He was such a substantial man, his great earnest bearing sent all her desires flowing madly almost every time she took a moment to appreciate them with undiscovered stares like this one. Her body quaked easily in his presence, especially since she now shared the enormous bed in his upstairs room. There were nightly excursions between the smooth fancy sheets; the curious contrast always amazed her, thinking how crude and elemental their lovemaking was amid the finery of his bed. She felt like a princess and a bawdy woman in the same moment, and she loved the feeling.

  Fiona approached her gentleman lover from behind and placed her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them gently, her fingers feeling his lustrous hair.

  “Where’ve you been?” he said gruffly.

  “Are you mad at me?” she asked, wondering.

  “I wanted to be out early today, my fine wench,” he said pulling his lover around to his side, and holding her close to him by her tiny waist. Though he was gruff, his eyes also sparkled, so she knew he wasn’t angry at all.

  “I suppose I took a little more time than I should have to get ready,” she explained, as she tried to wiggle from his grasp to fetch his breakfast from the kitchen.

  “You’re going nowhere Fiona McTavish.”

  “But your breakfast, you were leaving early?” she reminded him, even as his hands were all over her. Undoing the tie, and pulling down her blouse, he had her breasts naked before his eyes before she could frame any kind of protest. And it was useless to object, since she’d be happy for a quick journey to the bed, even at the early hour.

  “You make me very happy, Fi,” he said, as his face pressed against her succulent warm flesh.

  “Do I?” she purred, her thoughts falling away, as her physical pleasure was quickly mounting. He grabbed her breasts and squeezed with a decided firmness, and her whole body swooned with delight. “You do things to me sir, I cannot describe.”

  He pulled her blouse down completely, baring her torso, then brought her to his lap, so he could play with her more easily.

  Her mouth descended to his lips and she licked them with a teasing tongue, having found that he particularly liked to be kissed and licked on the mouth. There must be some special thrill that raced through his body, the way this kind of play always made his cock grow stiff.

  Joshua’s hand reached up under her skirt and found the edge of her drawers. Just the simple act of fondling her there sent a round of shivers through her that made her jerk right there on his lap.

  “Oh, the things you do to me, how can I live like this, this much passion?” she said, not expecting an answer, it was solely a statement of the fine pleasure this was raising in her.

  He stood up with her in his arms and laid her down with her back on the table, her legs opened wide. Drawing up her skirt, he quickly thrust himself inside the warm dark hole at the center of her womanhood. She closed around him with a ready pulsing, and let her mind go free of all troubled thoughts, as she let him drive his cock deeper and deeper inside her. He reached down and took her nipples in his hands and pinched them gently. She bucked against the hard table in response, and rocked as rudely as she could against his groin, knowing how close he was to ejaculation, knowing how much he liked it rough like this.

  When she heard him howl with a luscious wail, she was only then becoming used to, she let her mind float back to her own body as it was preparing for its climax. He held her tightly to him, his cock still stiff while she moved and swayed, finding just the right manner of stroking and jerking that sent her right to the edge and over.

  “Oh, my god, Joshua, yes!” she screamed, loving the abandon, the feeling of complete freedom that making love to Joshua Kane brought to her. And when it was over, she went limp, as the tiny spasms that made her body twinge finally died away.

  “Your face looks so peaceful, Fi,” the blacksmith remarked as he stared down at her lovely youthful eyes.

  “That’s because you’ve brought me peace, in many ways, my love.”

  He smiled.

  “You won’t cast me off, will you, sir?” she asked.

  “And why should I?” he queried back, annoyed by the very implication.

  “I’m just a common woman, certainly you could be bedding a wife of some substance greater than a silly barmaid.”

  She was still lying against the table, as he was finally pulling his cock from her. He slapped her thigh with a sharp whack.

  “None of that,” he punctuated his message. “You do far too much to demean yourself, my Fiona. You are as fine a woman as I have ever known.”

  “Oh, that can’t really be?” she stated.

  He looked at her with a grim expression. “You wish to defy my feelings, tell me I don’t know the truth?”

  She blushed, as she looked at his stern face. “I’m sorry sir, I’ve just never been treated so well. This is more than I could have ever hoped for in my life. But sometimes I fear it’s only a dream. Someday I’ll wake up with Leedy Mallick staring me in the face, and realize that that shabby tavern is really my home.

  Joshua pulled Fiona up, so that she was sitting on the table. His huge arms went around her, and he let her rest her head against his chest, the flaming red hair caught in his hands as he stroked it gently.

  “I’ve told you that is all past, my love. You are in my care, my protection and my love. I have no intention of allowing you to live that nightmare again.”

  It was almost daily that he reassured her this way. He never seemed irritated that he needed to, as if it was his duty to make certain she realized she was safe. Fiona was young, a mere nineteen, and though she’d been graced with a natural wisdom of the working world she had known, she was still insecure about this life they were living together. So new and fresh, and unexpected. It had been an adjustment for them both.

  For Joshua, it was an adjustment having another person in his life, after having lived on his own a regular recluse for so long. He loved just looking at her, loving her sweet scent, and wild hair, and quirky sense of wit. She also annoyed him constantly, sometimes with too many questions, sometimes interrupting him when he wanted quiet, often not fitting into the schedule of his life, but these were small prices for her lusty company and comfort.

  “I’ll be gone nearly all day. You can make me a dinner, by sundown I suspect.” He had finis
hed his breakfast and she watched him gather his things for what appeared to be a long ride that morning.

  “Why can’t you take me with you?” she asked.

  “Not this trip. I have business to attend to, and frankly you’d be in the way.”

  She looked a little hurt.

  “You’ll do fine on your own for a day, lass. Probably will be happy to have me out of the place,” he remarked.

  That was certainly not true she thought, as she watched him throw his satchel over his shoulders and briskly leave the cottage. She stared out the window and waved goodbye, as he mounted his black stallion and rode off.

  The few times he’d been gone in the last four months were always painful days. She had plenty to keep her busy in the cottage, and with the few animals they kept; but she missed the sound of the hammer and forge, the gruff demands he made when he came in for his midday meal, and the quick bursts of affection that made her heart glad, and her body look forward to the evening shadows bringing on the night.

  During the day with Joshua gone, she did have time think of her life, and how this change was the most unexpectedly wonderful thing she could imagine. Occasionally, she thought of Jerud and the future that had died with him. It would have been a far rougher life than this one, and she almost felt guilty for her good fortune. Mostly, she thought of her life with Joshua, imagining how it might continue. He’d never talked of marriage, and she would never broach the subject. She wondered how secure she was in this arrangement, as indelicate as it was. There was a feeling sometimes that it was only temporary, though try as she might, she could never see exactly what was beyond it for her.

  It was well after sundown and Joshua’s stew had been sitting on the stove for at least two hours, though Joshua had not arrived home. Every few minutes, Fiona thought she heard something, and would run to a curtained window to peek outside. A half dozen of these rituals and he was still not there. She sat in her chair by the fireplace, mending by a dim light, trying to keep her concentration on the tiny stitches and not her mounting anxiety. Joshua had a fine mantle clock that ticked with rigorous precision, the annoying sound reminding her with each sharp sounding click that Joshua was not there. Three, four hours, it was all explainable the absence, considering the distance that he was going. But at midnight, her heart was beginning to pound with such anxiety, there was no way she could go to bed and sleep.

  She had long since stopped her needlework, her eyes too strained to go on, which only made the waiting worse with nothing to fix her mind on.

  When the clock chimed noisily at three a.m., Fiona jolted awake. It took a few moments to remember why she was sleeping in the chair. As she gathered her wits, she looked around to see if Joshua was yet home.

  A terrible tightness in her throat was making it difficult to breath. Would he return? Had there been some misfortune? An accident on the horse? Bandits? Gunshots? A bloody brawl? Her mind would not stop leaping from one catastrophe to another. She paced the floor for nearly a half hour then thought she might try to return to her bedroom. But just as she was turning toward the stairs, the door rattled, and she quickly jerked around to see Joshua come through the door, arm in arm with another man, the smell of whiskey everywhere. Despite the surprising circumstance, Fiona fell on Joshua in tears.

  “Oh, my God, I’ve been so scared!” She was sobbing.

  Joshua pushed her away from him.

  “Help me with my friend,” he said. “To the upstairs room.”

  “My room?” she asked.

  “Of course the spare room.” He was as gruff as ever, and without the twinkle in his eye.

  “But …” she tried to reason with him. She’d still maintained her own room out of a sense of propriety, against someone, on just such an occasion like this one, who might speculate on her living arrangement with the blacksmith.

  “C’mon, girl, upstairs,” Joshua urged impatiently, in no mood to argue. He’d apparently had a few good belts of some strong whiskey too.

  With Joshua’s help, Fiona led the man to her sweet smelling lace adorned room. Falling on the bed, the unplanned guest was instantly at odds with the feminine aspect of the small bed. His leather boots were caked with mud smearing the white blanket Fiona had taken such care with. She could do nothing but bite her tongue seeing the horrible mess. And it was not just the man’s boots; he looked as if his whole body had fallen into a mud puddle—and recently. His clothes were still wet.

  Beneath the mess, Fiona noticed that the man’s attire suggested he was not a common ruffian, but a man of some means. The riding clothes were well made. His shirt was silk and there was a fine gold ring on one hand.

  Fiona helped Joshua put the man to bed such as he was.

  “You can clean these in the morning,” he said, his blunt manner only slightly warmed.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, and she flew downstairs with the soiled garments in hand, before Joshua saw a new flurry of tears ready to burst from her tired eyes. She’d let the garments soak for the remainder of the night, then they’d be easier to clean.

  When Joshua did not come downstairs, she assumed he’d gone to bed. Extinguishing the oil lamp, she tiptoed past their houseguest’s door. It was the first time since she’d been sleeping with Joshua that she felt the impropriety of the arrangement. And though their guest, whoever he was, was dead asleep, she felt the need to sneak into the blacksmith’s room on the sly, as if she had to hide the truth.

  “Where were you, sir?” was the immediate question, Fiona ask her lover. Certainly he owed her some explanation.

  “The business detained me, and I joined my man Charley for a few rounds. Doesn’t hold his liquor well.” Joshua smirked. Fiona watched him pull away his clothes, the sight of his body sending a charge of excitement through her, though she was determined not to give into his sexual advances.

  “You didn’t know I’d be worried?” she asked.

  “I’m here now, aren’t I?” he quipped.

  “Of course you are, but I was frightened. There’s stew in the pot that’s gone to waste, a fire in the grate long gone out, you have no idea the fear!”

  “Then c’mere wench, and let me warm you,” Joshua said, with an amorous tone she recognized.

  She didn’t want to warm to him, she was still angry with him for his rude arrival, and the mountain of work his friend would cause her the next day.

  “C’mere!” He was more brusque this time, tired from the journey, the liquor and the late hour.

  There remained a petulant pout on her face, as she tiptoed softly toward him. He grabbed her when she was still a few feet off. “Don’t play the tease with me, lass. I need you now.” She tumbled on to the bed with him, allowing Joshua to pull away her clothes. She made no effort to pleasure him, though it was not much revenge, since Joshua was quite adept at his taking his own pleasure. His hands were the same warm hands she was used to and his mouth the same passionate place of fire; even though she was repelled by the strong smell of liquor on his breath. She tried to pull away.

  Still, in spite of her annoyance, her body was responding to him. The spirits swimming in his veins did nothing to blunt his erection, and his cock was readily hard when he pushed her mouth down to his groin, inviting her to take it. The warm musk of his manly body was as arousing as always; certainly more appealing to her now than his pungent kisses.

  Finally, rather than think of pleasing him, she thought of the way she was being pleased herself, even as she ran her tongue along his hard shaft and the head of his penis. Her mind will filled with other times when they had been together, when she was not angry, and the things she did to him made her ready for a hearty screw. Those thoughts in her mind, her cunt pulsed in anticipation, her body spasming deliciously.

  Once Joshua was fully hard, he pulled Fiona back on top of his chest. Her legs spread wide, his cock easily slipped inside her. If anything, his state of mind made him all the more aggressive. He was looking for a swift climax, so his hands and mouth played a
s roughly as his cock did in its incessant prodding. She liked it rough, particularly now. She even scratched his back when he ran his fingernails along her skin, and nibbled at his shoulder, then at his lip—though not too hard lest she make him mad.

  He rolled her over in several positions, finally on top, he propped himself above her, and thrust himself deep in her cunt. Looking down at her with ferocious wild eyes, she might have thought he was enraged, though she knew he wasn’t. It was just his way to appear like the devil possessed by some unearthly fire while he was in the midst of sex. It was one thing about this savage lover that Fiona had become accustomed to.

  On this occasion, the young woman flashed back with the same kind of crude flaming eyes. She seized him, grasping for her pleasure; she would not give him any satisfaction without securing her own.

  “Yeeeeawwwwww,” he let loose with a fierce cry, which was soon followed by Fiona’s whimpering one.

  When he collapsed against her, she’d had enough; and with an adamant shove, pushed his heavy weight from her. They moved to opposite sides of the bed, saying nothing, and Joshua was snoring in seconds.

  It was late when Fiona woke the next morning, since it was nearly dawn before she fell asleep. Joshua was already up and out of the room.

  Finding the sour smell of liquor lingering in the air was making her stomach turn, Fiona quickly rose with a fresh dose of righteous indignation rising in her. After dressing herself, she grabbed Joshua’s soiled clothes from the floor, stripped the bed, and then bundling everything together, she went downstairs. It was not her usual day to do the laundry, but she’d do it anyway. Perhaps the activity would work off the anger that had not nearly been spent the night before.

  Downstairs, the two men looked fresh enough, sitting by a well stoked fire, drinking coffee. Charles was smoking a pipe.

  “Yer late,” Joshua exclaimed, seeing Fiona emerge. She scowled at the remark. “But the sleep did you well, you’re beautiful as ever,” he added. Apparently he’d returned to his usual good humor.