by Georgia Fox
Rufus looked askance, pausing his rapid chewing. "I know not. As tall as I need be, with perhaps some extra."
Despite the need to remain solemn, Cedney found herself charmed by this answer and she very nearly smiled. "Have you been here long in England?"
"Long enough."
"Do you have children?"
"Not yet."
"A wife?"
He turned his head to study her again, his eyes darkened from silver to iron grey. "Why do you ask me all this? If you know about my brother the monk, don't you know the rest too?" His tone was defensive, wary. "Perhaps you test me, eh, Bloodwynne?"
Rufus had just touched her hip with his strong thigh and his arm was mere inches from hers. She could smell the heat of his skin and the perspiration trapped in the dark curls of his head, released each time he moved. It was a good, manly scent. Sometimes when she passed a soldier she would catch a breath of a similar smell, but it was fleeting and she always closed her thoughts to the ideas that followed.
Not tonight however. Her thoughts remained open, raw and exposed, surely making her cheeks flame. She licked her lips. "I know very little about you, sir. I was curious to know more. I confess, I did not know where to start with my questions."
"Curious about me?" He stared at her, unblinking. Now his gaze went to her mouth. He reached one hand to his lap and adjusted himself through his leather chausses. "Shouldn't you be curious about Lady Rosamund?" A half grin lifted one side of his lips. Almost, Cedney thought, a guilty grin.
"I have heard all about Lady Rosamund already," she replied drily. "From her own angry lips."
His smile gained confidence and developed into a dour chuckle. "Can you understand the language?"
"More than I wish to," she admitted with a sigh. "I think it would be a very good thing for a marriage if neither man nor woman speaks the other's tongue. Much less chance of a disagreement."
Rufus laughed loudly, leaning back in his chair to look at her.
Suddenly, without thinking, Cedney reached for the ale jug and poured for him. He paused again, in the process of licking his fingers. Rufus stared at his cup and then at her hands around the jug.
Cedney realized what she'd done— taken a woman's role as if it was natural. She hastily sought to cover her mistake. Looking around, she summoned one of the serving girls and angrily chided her for not keeping their guest's cup filled. The girl looked surprised to be shouted at, but Cedney quickly grabbed a leg of pheasant for herself and bit into it, resting her elbows on the table. After a few moments she managed a burp too.
Something warned her it wasn't enough.
The man at her side was too quiet. Thinking. That was never a good thing in a man.
Further, he was a stranger, an outsider. He might look at her differently and see through her disguise.
But as Cedney chewed her meat and saw him fidgeting and restless in her side vision, she realized that she had cause to be just as doubtful about him, since he was not at all as he'd been described to her. And he didn't seem to know how many brothers he had, what they did or who they worshipped.
Chapter Four
"So now it is my turn to ask questions," he said suddenly.
"If you wish." The young man kept his gaze focused across the hall. "I'm sure you have much to ask, on your niece's behalf."
"How long have you led these men?"
"Since my father died, seven winters gone."
"You must have been no more than a child then."
A shrug lifted the lad's nearest shoulder. "Some might think so. I must say I never felt much like a child. As my father's only heir I knew I had large boots to fill one day. I was prepared."
Dom stared hard at Cedney Bloodwynne's profile and then looked again at those hands, which had moved to pour his ale before they stopped abruptly and summoned a servant instead. They were long, narrow hands, not soft or lazy. There was a slight upward tilt to his nose and the eyelashes were of considerable length. The hair was crudely chopped, kissed by the sun. Not much attempt had been made to tidy it before he greeted his bride. In fact, the unkempt appearance might almost be...deliberate.
"Do you look forward to marriage, Bloodwynne?"
"Of course. It is a duty I must undertake." But this was said wearily, eyelids lowered, chin down.
"You will treat Lady Rosamund well? As her uncle, I must ask these things, you understand."
"Yes." Cedney hesitated, blinked and then, apparently, thought better of saying anything more.
"Perhaps I will stay a day or two, to be sure she settles in."
The young man turned to look at him. "As you wish."
"You might welcome the advice I can give." He paused, looked at Cedney's hands again and added, "Since you have no male relative here to help you."
"I have counselors."
"I meant, to help you...with a bride. To school you in what needs to be done."
A very slight blush colored the young lord's cheeks and Dom felt his cock stir again. Anyone might think it had been too long without action from the way that eager organ behaved tonight.
Cedney lowered his innocent blue gaze once more and Dom watched white teeth clamp down on the full lower lip. His heartbeat changed from a steady canter to a reckless gallop. What the hell was happening to him?
"I think I know what must be done with a bride," the young man muttered, his tone sullen.
"I did not mean to insult you, Bloodwynne. I merely thought—"
"I am quite capable of managing a bride. But thank you. Your concern for your niece is admirable."
Suddenly the musicians began to play and Dom tore his gaze away from the person at his side, pretending to pay heed to the entertainment. A lot of trouble had been taken to prepare a good welcome for Lady Rosamund and her escort, it seemed. Perhaps they were hoping all the noise, food, ale and excitement would keep "Rufus Redbeard" from noticing the obvious— that Cedney Bloodwynne was a very feminine young man and quite possibly, from the way he looked at Dom, had a preference for male company in his bed.
He wouldn't be the first such man to take a wife for the sake of appearances and to beget offspring. For someone in his position, as Bloodwynne himself had said, it was a duty to marry. No doubt he planned to go through with it because this was expected of him, despite where his true desires lay.
Dom felt sorry for the lad. It could not be very enjoyable to fuck as a duty. But he could still take male lovers on the side, of course, as the need arose.
Speaking of needs arising...
He reached down to adjust himself again and let his eyes casually sweep over the crowded tables. There had to be a woman here tonight with whom he could slake this raw lust. The girl who had been summoned to fill his goblet was plump, cheerful, bosomy. A likely candidate for a quick, hard, satisfying fuck. Yes, he could enjoy a good rutting with her. She'd just flashed her brown eyes toward him and smiled. He could see her large nipples pressing against the front of her wool gown and her rounded hips undulated as she stood with her back to the wall. Very nice. He could be buried up to his balls in wet pussy in a very few minutes.
* * * *
Cedney saw him slip away from the festivities. She'd also seen the playful widow, Alaya, disappear through the same door a few moments before.
The musicians were still playing, she thought angrily, couldn't he even wait until the performance was over? Apparently not.
Biting savagely into her honey cake, she tried to ignore the hot, writhing beast newly awoken in her belly. What was wrong with her that she should become so distracted? Her father would be furious that she let these forbidden womanly feelings creep in. Yes, Cedney knew what they were. She was not ignorant of her own desires, despite every effort to bury them. She had a terrible need to be touched, the way a woman should be touched. It had first come upon her when she was fifteen, watching soldiers bathe nude in the stream that ran through her property. Tonight it was a sensation stronger than ever— entirely the fault of Rufus Redbeard
and his proximity.
She wished he hadn't announced an intention to stay longer. But on the other hand her heart had soared when he suggested it. Her palms were moist with sweat, her head spinning with confusion. Duty battled with desire. Oh, the scent of him had almost undone her. Even now he was gone from her side— supposedly to relieve himself in the yard— her pulse danced like wind chimes left to rattle after a passing breeze.
Lady Rosamund yawned suddenly and that was excuse enough for Cedney to send her bride off to bed.
"I will see you before the day's hunt tomorrow, my lady," she said, kissing Rosamund's hand and bowing. "It is tradition here for the bride to wave her groom off and bless the hunt on the day before their wedding. We will bring home the meat for the celebration feast."
The Norman lady looked at her blankly, so she gestured as if riding a horse and then firing an arrow, followed by an eating motion.
Whether this was understood she had no idea. Cedney could probably have hammered together a few awkward words in French to get her point across, but she was in too much hurry at that moment to try. As soon as Rosamund and her elderly nurse had left the hall, Cedney backed away from the crowd, quietly and discretely, until she could slide out through the door and into the cool night air without being noticed.
She told herself that she was not following Rufus Barberousse. No, indeed. She was simply desirous of fresh, cooling air after the smoke, heat and noise of the hall.
Her feet, however, carried her around the yard and the animal pens in a stroll that was anything but casual. Her eyes and ears were on high alert and it was not long before she heard the grunting, groaning sounds for which she sought.
Cedney dived behind a large water barrel, resting her shoulder against the side of the storage shed. Peering through the gap, she could just make out the moonlit figures of Alaya and Rufus copulating like beasts in the dirt. She held her breath and it burned in her throat, cruel and savage.
His cock was no less than she'd expected from the size of the man. It plowed deeply from behind into the writhing, gasping woman bent over on her hands and knees. Alaya's gown was tossed up over her back, her large, dimpled buttocks kissed by the silver moonlight. Her knees must be scraping on the ground, but she did not seem to mind it. Each time Rufus impaled her again on his sword, she gasped out in excitement and her entire body shook, heavy breasts bouncing and jiggling as they hung beneath, nipples almost in the dirt.
Watching from her hiding place, Cedney finally closed her mouth, desperately fighting back her own breathy moans.
She watched how the man's large hands grabbed at Alaya's swaying breasts. He had torn the front of her gown, not waiting to slip it down off the woman's shoulders. Cedney stared as his rough fingers pulled and tweaked at those big brown nipples, and his palms slapped at the swelling flesh. She saw how his buttocks flexed, his strong thighs moving back and forth, tireless, forceful, thrusting. His balls were like ripe fruit, visible between forward parries as he bent over his partner and fucked her hard. It was almost as if he was angry about something, thought Cedney. His head was back, his eyes fixed on the stars and moon above, his lips tight and turned down at the corners. His profile was strong, rough-hewn but handsome. It was a heart-wrenching sight for a woman—particularly one not entitled to think of herself as female. A woman never to know the thrill of that particular sensation, never to be filled by cock, ravaged heartily and serviced by ball sacks as mighty as those of a prize bull, overflowing with seed.
Self-pity tore through her breast, even as she reached with one hand between her thighs and rubbed the crotch of her cowhide breeches. Oh, to be taken like that. To be on her hands and knees before him, accepting that cock into her aching, starved pussy, his balls slapping against her, his brawny thighs pushing into the back of her legs.
Alaya was so wet, her juice gleamed in the light of the moon, shining on the broad lips of her cunt and making his cock slick.
Suddenly he turned his head. The motion of fucking didn't pause even for a breath, but he stared directly at Cedney's hiding place. Had she made a noise? It seemed possible that a pitiful sound might have slipped out under duress. The patch of cowhide between her legs was damp now where her fingers pressed against her sex. Her own breasts felt heavy, hot, nipples rubbing sore on her tunic.
She didn't know what to do. If she made a run for it now, he would definitely hear someone there. Besides, she didn't want to leave. Cedney wanted to go on watching. Her body was trembling, close to a frenzied peak already.
Rufus Redbeard slowed his in and out motion, keeping his gaze fixed on the water barrel. Now every inch of his manhood was visible when he let it slide all the way out and back in. And back out. Teasing and tormenting Cedney. As well as the woman under him.
As his cockhead left the fleshy lips of the widow's cunny, a trail of sticky dew shimmered, hanging between their bodies. Then it disappeared as he filled her again. He moved his hips, grinding even deeper, making the woman scream in ecstasy, before he withdrew yet again and left her panting and squirming, her crude mouth begging him not to stop.
Cedney could stand it no more. She stood, deciding to brave it out and reveal that she had been hiding there. After all, what could he do to her? She was the lord of the manor here. This was her territory. She had a right to do as she pleased.
When he saw her stand a slow grin lifted his lips, his eyes narrowed. With a languid gesture of one hand, he beckoned Cedney forward.
* * * *
So the young man was curious, eh? Well, that was natural at his age. Dom wasn't sure whether Bloodwynne's spying was because of his interest in sex acts, in women. Or in him. Another pleasing jolt of excitement pulsed through him at the idea that he might be the object of Cedney's curiosity. But why should it affect him so? Dom was no novice when it came to all manner of sexual games and really none of this should surprise him. The young lord was attractive, interesting, sensual.
And the way he kept those wide summer-sky blue eyes trained on Dom's cock was extremely arousing.
A great deal of fun could be had by all if he took the lad under his wing and taught him a few things about fucking.
Cedney approached on the balls of his feet, as if he didn't want the woman to know he was there. Dom signaled for the lad to kneel beside him and he slowly withdrew the length of his shaft again until only the tip rested inside the woman's quivering cunt. He shoved her gown further out of the way to ensure Bloodwynne had a full, unrestricted view.
"Perhaps you'd like a turn, my lord. Be my guest." After all, he reasoned, it was only polite to share and this was one of the young man's fields he was plowing.
Cedney stared at his wet cock. "A...a turn?"
Dom laughed softly and slapped the woman's rump. He felt her pussy squeeze his cockhead in response and she panted hard, grunting at him to get his prick back inside her. "Have a turn at this shapely wench, Bloodwynne. Good practice for the wedding night."
"Oh." The lad faltered and then turned his gaze to the ripe cunny on display. "Yes. I...think I'd rather...I'd rather watch you."
"But look," Dom slipped his cock fully out and held the woman's nether lips wide open with his thumbs. "There's plenty of good warmth to be shared. And the wench minds not. She's well seasoned for it and very generous. Take your turn, my lord. Have at this cunny now or you might be over-ready for my niece on the wedding night."
Still the young man hesitated, so Dom thrust three fingers inside the woman's eager twat and diddled her clitty until she began to come violently with a shattered scream. He glanced over at Cedney's face and saw how intently the lad watched. It aroused Dom further still, and he began forcing more of his hand inside the woman's cunt.
"Doesn't that hurt her?" the young man muttered, staring.
"Does it sound as if it hurts her?" Dom laughed huskily. "She's well stretched." He slowly pulled his fist out again to show the sticky dew that thickly coated his hand. He spread his fingers. "Why not have a taste of her first
then," he said, realizing his voice had turned husky. He was very eager to see the young lord go at it and if Cedney didn't soon make a move he might have to push that too-pretty face into the wench's pussy to get things started. The reticent lad didn't know what he was missing. Surely he wasn't a virgin? Surely not saving himself for marriage?
To his relief, Cedney hitched forward and seemed about to lick the waiting pussy, but then suddenly he took Dom's wet fingers into his mouth instead.
A thick, hard, thudding beat now took over his pulse and tightened his sac. Christ. He would end up mounting this gorgeous lad if he wasn't careful. Right here and now in the dirt of the farmyard, he'd have the pretty young lord bent over and his tight buttocks pried open for a raw pounding neither would soon forget. Or recover from.
He swallowed hard. Cedney Bloodwynne licked the woman's essence from his fingers and then sucked. As the lad's cheeks sank in and his mouth tugged on the hand, he looked up, fixing his stunning eyes on Dom's face. It was a tense, heated moment until the wench beside them began to complain that her knees hurt. She was sulking of course as her pussy had been left unfilled for several moments now and she would soon go off the boil.
Dom cleared his throat and cupped the young lord's face with the hand that that had just been licked and sucked dry. "You like that taste, eh? There's more of that juice inside her. Put your mouth on her cunny and bring her to climax. You suck and lick her the way you just did my hand," he chuckled low, "that sweet honey will flood out of her." He ought to know as his own seed was surging violently at that moment, ready to spill into the mouth that had just attacked his hand with lusty greed.
He shuffled back a little to make room and wrapped the fingers of one hand around his cock, planning to jerk himself off while he watched Cedney Bloodwynne enjoy pussy. Although he would like to have come inside the woman himself, he realized now that he would get just as much pleasure from watching the young man.
