Dark Warrior (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  The three men looked at each other, then back at Nicholas. He paused, drumming his fingertips thoughtfully against the tabletop. “Gentlemen, have you ever heard of Greek fire?”

  * * * *

  The five men worked through a rudimentary lunch, well into the afternoon, hashing out the details of an elaborate system of couriers, spies, and signal flags. Finally they all shook hands, declaring themselves well pleased with the plan, before retiring to their chambers to rest before dinner. Nicholas and Rolf, despite being exhausted beyond measure, made slow, sweet love to Kathryn before they collapsed in a heap on the bed, tucked her snugly between them, and fell asleep.

  When William awakened them two hours later, it was dark. If he was shocked or surprised at finding Berwick’s new Duchess-to-be in bed with two men, he gave no indication. “Good evening, Your Grace,” he said, addressing Nicholas. “Your guests are waiting for you in the great hall. The kitchen is holding supper for you.”

  “Thank you, William. We will be along directly.”

  “I have also taken the liberty of bringing Mr. Rolf’s things from his chamber. He will find them in that cabinet over there.” He indicated the tall oak cupboard against the far wall.

  Once again, Nicholas could only stare, nonplussed, at his elderly chamberlain, awed by the man’s uncanny abilities to stay three steps ahead of him. He shook his head in amazement. “William, you are a treasure.”

  “Aye, Your Grace.” William inclined his head in humble acknowledgment.

  “How could I ever get along without you?”

  “You could not possibly, Your Grace.”

  Nicholas laughed. “You’ll get no argument, for you speak truth. Thank you, William. Tell the kitchen and servants we will be there shortly. We will dress ourselves,” he said, dismissing the elderly chamberlain before bending down to kiss his lover awake.

  Kathryn yawned and stretched luxuriously as Nicholas’s fingers tangled in her hair, holding her head still for a kiss that broke her heart with its sweetness. Behind her, Rolf nuzzled his face against her hair, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs. “Thou smellest good, yndling.”

  As he was speaking, one hand lifted to close around her breast, sliding his thumb across the hardening bud of her nipple. She groaned as sensation sizzled through her, spiking her arousal. She could feel his penis growing hard and thick against her buttocks.

  Swept away on a hot tide of need, she pressed her hips back against Rolf’s hard body, her tongue dueling with Nicholas’s as he plundered the treasure of her mouth.

  Both men pulled back with a reluctant groan, chests heaving, breathing heavily. They stared at each other over her head, their eyes mere slits. Then Nicholas said with a sigh, “Nay, beloved. You have been too well loved. I know how sore you must be after taking both our cocks into that delectable body of yours.”

  Sore? Was she sore? She shut her eyes, taking a mental inventory. Her jaw ached from taking Nicholas’s massive cock as it had shuttled in and out of her mouth. The entrance to her sheath burned, feeling raw and stretched almost beyond endurance. The muscles in her thighs ached from being spread so wide and ridden so hard. Her frazzled little pearl was simply numb, though she knew that if either of them touched it, it would come screaming instantly back to life.

  “As I thought,” Nicholas said, reading her thoughts on her face. “After supper, you will soak in a hot mineral bath to soothe your aches and pains. I will have Ellen prepare a salve to help ease your soreness. Tonight, Rolf and I will simply hold you and cherish you while you sleep in our arms.”

  She watched as Nicholas got out of bed and walked naked over to the table to retrieve his clothes. Rolf held her close to his hard body for a few more minutes, then he, too, got out of bed. He was just fastening the buckle of his baldric, with its twin swords, when Nicholas turned back toward the bed.

  “Come, beloved.” He held out his hand.

  She rose, walking gracefully toward the two men with a feminine sway of her hips. They watched her, mouths parched, eyes glittering with a heady mixture of love and lust. In unison, both cocks hardened and jerked beneath the constraints of their braes and chausses. Kathryn smiled, a wanton, wicked smile, as she let them dress her—amid much kissing, touching, and brushing of hands across excruciatingly sensitive skin. By the time they were finished, all three were breathless, so aroused they were trembling with it.

  “We must stop this,” Nicholas finally said with a firm shake of his head. “She has just taken two very large cocks into her mouth and her cunt. She cannot take any more tonight or she’ll be too sore to walk down the aisle tomorrow.”

  “Fret not, yndling,” Rolf teased. “Abstinence can be a good thing. It just makes the pleasure that follows so much greater.”

  “Impossible.” she replied fervently. “Any more pleasure would surely kill me.”

  They took a collective deep breath. Before they turned to leave the solar, Nicholas lifted her chin with one hard finger. “Remember, beloved, there are those who would condemn us for the choice we have made to share our lives and our love like this. But not here. No one in this household will ever say or do aught that will shame or embarrass you.”

  She smiled at him. A radiant smile brimming with love and confidence. “What have I to be ashamed or embarrassed about, my love? I am in love with the two handsomest men on the face of the earth. And I find it passing strange that they are also in love with me. I consider myself the most fortunate of women. What care I for the small-minded opinions of others?”

  “Well spoken.” Nicholas smiled before bending down and kissing her, a sweet taking of her lips that had her stomach rolling over in her belly. Taking her right hand in his, he led her down the winding stairs with Rolf, carefully holding her splinted left hand, trailing along behind. They were still holding hands when they entered the great hall.

  The room was crowded with people seated at the trestle tables. Every seat at the high table was filled as the servers went about the business of serving dinner. No one paid particular attention to them, but it was immediately apparent that everyone knew about their changed living arrangement. Their chairs at the high table had been rearranged. Kathryn’s was now in the center between those of Nicholas and Rolf. She cast a few furtive glances toward their three distinguished visitors, but they were too busy washing their hands to notice her. Despite her breezy assurances that she was fine with being part of a threesome, a blush crept up her cheeks as they stood holding out their hands under the cascade of warm rosewater for the hand washing ritual.

  “Fret not, beloved,” Nicholas whispered in her ear as he dried his hands and handed the towel back to the ewerer, Eric Fordyce, who blushed when she thanked him and gave him a brilliant smile. “’Tis as I told you,” Nicholas continued. “Nobody cares.” He kissed her cheek as Rolf leaned down to kiss the other one. Marking her with the gesture as his, dispelling any lingering doubt with a finality that could not be disputed.

  “He speaks truth, yndling.” His rumbling voice strummed across her senses like a bow across the taut, straining strings of a viol. “People care naught about things that do not directly concern them.”

  Visibly she straightened, tamping down her embarrassment. Lifting her chin proudly, she smiled up at each of her men in turn, as they kissed her hands and seated her between them before seating themselves.

  Nicholas beckoned to a young page boy and whispered something in his ear. The boy disappeared around the screen. Then Nicholas and Rolf scooted their chairs closer to hers, a protective gesture that melted her heart. The room seemed to sigh as the first course was presented.

  “Your Grace! Your Grace!” Harold Godwain came running up to the high table, dropping on bended knee and swiping off his hood in one smooth motion. He was gasping for breath and his face was contorted in pain as he pressed his hand hard against the painful stitch in his side. “There’s a pilgrim outside, Your Grace. Says he must speak with you. Says it’s a matter of utmost urgency. Matthew’s guar
ding him inside the barbican.”

  Nicholas jumped to his feet. “Have Matthew show him into the postern’s quarters, Harold. I’ll be right there.”

  “Dost thou need me to go with thee?” Rolf asked quietly at his elbow.

  Nicholas shook his head, looking at Kathryn’s worried expression. “Nay, Rolf, you stay with our lady. See to it that she gets what she needs. I’ll fill you in when I get back.”

  He lowered his head and kissed Kathryn, a gentle brush of his lips against hers, light, ethereal, gossamer. He smiled down at her, a wolfish grin that made him look devilish and dangerous. “Go with Rolf, beloved. Let him take care of you. I won’t be long.”

  Rolf came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders as they both stood and watched Nicholas leave, his lithe, panther-like stride making short work of the distance between the high table and the exit.

  Kathryn’s hand went to her breast as she drew in a deep, shaky breath. “Lord,” she whispered, “I love that man.”

  “Aye,” Rolf agreed. “As do I. Come, kaereste, thy bath awaits.”

  The grooms were just pouring the last buckets of steaming hot water into the tub in front of the fireplace as Rolf and Kathryn entered the solar. Ellen, kneeling beside the tub, her right sleeve rolled up past the elbow, was swishing her arm through the water to distribute the mineral salts evenly.

  “Hello, poppet,” she smiled at Kathryn. Then her smile disappeared. “Mr. Rolf.” She nodded curtly, her chins quivering, eyeing him disapprovingly from beneath her wimple.

  Rolf just laughed. Leaning down, he helped the elderly woman to her feet, giving her a smacking kiss on the mouth.

  As she drew back, sputtering and squawking, he laughed again. “Come on, love,” he teased, “don’t be such an old fuss-budget. Thou knowest thee loves me. Thou art my girl, right?”

  “Hmph!” was her only reply, but she couldn’t quite hide her smile.

  He took her plump, be-ringed hand and raised it to his lips before holding it against his chest with both of his. “Fret not about this, dearest heart,” he pleaded. “I know thou thinkest what we’re doing is wrong. But believe me when I say that naught in my life has ever felt so right. I love this young woman with all my heart—as thou knowest I love Nick. I would give my life for them. May God strike me dead if I ever do aught to hurt either of them.” He pulled her into his arms and gave her a swift hug. “We have found true happiness in each other, Ellen. Canst thou not find it in thy heart to be just a wee bit happy for us?

  She sniffed, but seemed slightly mollified at his sincerity. “Well, I s’pose. Since ye put it that away,” she muttered, handing him a jar of sweet-smelling salve. Quickly she twisted Kathryn’s thick braid on top of her head, anchoring it firmly with pins.

  She lifted her hand to cup Kathryn’s cheek. “Ye stand up to them, Poppet. Don’t let them bully ye. And don’t let them talk ye into doing nothing ye don’t want to do. They’ll push ye beyond yer limits if ye let them, ye mark me words.” Rolling down her sleeve, she crossed the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

  Rolf turned to Kathryn, still smiling.

  “She disapproves of what we’re doing,” she observed quietly.

  “She’ll come around,” Rolf promised. “As soon as she sees how happy we are. She just wants what’s best for all of us.” Placing the jar on the table, he bent and lifted her surcote over her head, followed in swift order by her cote-hardie and chemise, until she was standing naked before him.

  His mouth watered at the sight of all that smooth creaminess and he couldn’t resist lifting his hand and touching one breast reverently. Only the faintest trace of the bruises and bite marks remained to mar the silken surface of her skin. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her. “Beautiful,” he breathed, looking at her almost dazedly. “So beautiful.” He stroked her satin flesh gently, then, meeting her eyes, he seemed to give himself a mental shake. “Come, yndling, into the bath with thee before the water gets cold.”

  With his hand at the small of her back, he helped her step into the hammered copper tub. He watched as she sank down onto the sponges with a sigh of pure bliss. She closed her eyes and leaned gratefully back against one end of the tub, lifting her arms to rest along the rim. The heat of the water seeped into her aching muscles. She heard rustling noises behind her and knew Rolf was undressing.

  When she felt him step into the tub, she opened one eye and watched as he lowered himself slowly into the steaming water so as not to slosh any over the sides.

  He leaned against the opposite end, facing her, placing his feet on either side of her hips. His cock jutted straight up out of its nest of silver-blond curls between his thighs.

  She opened her other eye and stared straight into the blue depths of his.

  He gave her a crooked, little-boy grin. “I know this bath was for thee, but I couldn’t resist. Close thine eyes, min skat, and let the mineral salts work their magic.”

  She did as she was told and leaned her head back. Without volition, her hands moved to stroke along the hair-roughened skin of his thick thighs, over his slightly knobby knees, down his powerfully muscled calves. Then back up again.

  With a groan, he grabbed a scented cloth and scooped up some of the soft lye soap from the dish resting on the seat of the chair that had been pulled up beside the tub. “Scoot toward me, yndling. I’ll wash thee.”

  She did, letting him bathe her face, shoulders and arms with the soapy rag. He lingered over her breasts, stroking them with the rough cloth, turning her skin a lovely shade of pink. Then, dropping the cloth, he lathered them with his bare hands instead, stroking and plumping her flesh until her nipples were hard, aching points. Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and took one soap-slick nipple into his mouth, scraping it gently between his teeth. Then suckling her as a hungry babe sucks its mother’s teat, he pulled on it deeply and noisily until she was moaning and shivering with arousal.

  He released her, then did the same to her other nipple, sending lightning crackling through her entire body. While he was suckling her breasts, his soapy hands were busy stroking over her belly, her waist, her thighs. With one last, hard pull, he straightened and looked at her, his blue eyes glittering with heat and lust.

  With a groan, she grabbed his shoulders to steady herself. He followed the direction of her stare to the mark branded on his right bicep—a triskelion of three scything blades. “’Tis the Triple Horn,” he said quietly, “a symbol of Odin’s power.”

  Lightly, almost tentatively, as if she were afraid she would hurt him, her fingers traced the slightly raised black lines of the mark. “Did it hurt?”

  “Like the very devil,” he exclaimed with a grin. “But not nearly as much as this one.” He tapped the one over his heart, three interconnected triangles. “The skin in this area is quite sensitive.”

  “Are these letters?” she asked, touching the runic symbols encircling the triangles.

  “Aye.”

  “What do they say?”

  “That I am Odin’s warrior, willing to die for him.”

  “How do they do it?” she asked, placing her palm over his heart.

  “They pierce the skin with needles and rub iron-gall ink into the wounds.”

  She shuddered and he laughed, covering her hand with his. “Believe me, I’ve suffered much worse. Lean back, yndling.”

  She obeyed without question, watching him through shuttered lids. He lifted her right leg up out of the water, propping her ankle on the rim of the tub. She didn’t wait for him to do the same with her left leg. She lifted it herself, letting her thighs gape, opening her luscious slit to his heated gaze.

  Sucking in her breath, she watched his eyes darken with lust as he slid his finger through the furrow of her slit and into the opening of her cunt, then back out again to rasp across her tenderest, most sensitive nubbin. She moaned. Her eyes closed. Her head fell back against the edge of the tub as he rubbed her super-sensitive flesh.

  “Rolf.” She
arched her back, her body tightening as pressure began to build inside her.

  “Christ, yndling, thou’rt so beautiful. I cannot stop looking at thee. Cannot stop touching thee.” His finger left her nub to slide down her cleft and slip inside her vagina, more deeply this time. It was swiftly joined by a second and the two of them began to thrust gently in and out of her rippling walls. God, she was tight!

  “Rolf!” It was a moan of pleasure. She pulled in a deep, shuddering breath. “Sweet mercy, Rolf, that feels so good!” Her hips began moving, undulating, countering his slowly thrusting fingers. She felt his thumb circling her pearl, rasping across the trembling flesh. “Prithee, do not stop. I’m so close!”

  “Then come for me, yndling. I love to watch thee come. Christ, thy face is so beautiful when thy pleasure takes thee!”

  She cried out, arching her back, dragging air into the bottom of her lungs. She stiffened as her body exploded into a fireball of pleasure, crying out in broken little sobs as her hips bucked and jerked against his pleasuring hand, splashing water out onto the stone floor. As pleasure quaked through her, she opened her eyes to find herself trapped in the blue depths of his.

  Finally, she released one last shuddering breath, and he withdrew his fingers from her clenching sheath. “Come here, kaereste,” he said, the deepness of his voice vibrating through her entire body. “Stand up.”

  She obeyed him mindlessly, rising out of the water, shivering as the cold air hit her warm, wet skin.

  “Turn around.”

  She did, giving him a mouthwatering view of her heart-shaped ass.

  Christ! Unable to stop himself, he lifted his hands to cup the smooth, firm globes. Gently he squeezed, flexing his fingers in the soft, creamy flesh. He moaned. “Sit down, kaereste, before I lose control and fuck thee.”