Dark Warrior (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  As Nicholas tongued her achy little nubbin, slurping up the sweet juice gushing from her cunt, Rolf plowed his tongue along the furrow of her ass. “By Odin, kaereste,” he murmured in a tone filled with awe. “Thy flavor is wonderful. So dark. So delicious. I could feast on thee all day.”

  He pressed his swirling tongue against the tight opening into her nether passage and—Oh, God! Oh, God—thrust it inside her just as Nicholas’s tongue invaded her cunt!

  She shrieked and went rigid at the carnal onslaught of two tongues invading both of her openings at the same time. Her breathing was coming in rapid, shuddering moans as fire licked along her intimate folds, threatening to consume her. She was shivering, shaking, chills racing along the quivering skin of her back, across her belly. Her leg muscles were trembling as if she had the ague and she knew not how much longer she could support herself above Nicholas’s assaulting mouth.

  The two tongues were driving her wild with pleasure. She was being devoured and it was ripping her apart. The dark, erotic pleasure was unraveling her, splintering her, taking her apart strand by fiery strand. It scoured her soul, hot and thick, fulfilling her in a way she could never have dreamed possible.

  Her womb clenched, twisting the knot of pleasure deep inside her, until she was dizzy with her need to come. Mindless, she gripped Nicholas’s cock tightly in her fist, lifting her mouth away from him as she gasped out her pleasure in a desperate struggle for breath.

  Pressure was building inside her, winding tighter and tighter, twisting her insides into a hot coil of desperate need. A desperate need to come as two skillful tongues fucked and licked and sucked her hot, wet skin, each touch burning her alive, each caress igniting flames everywhere it touched, and each stroke threatening to incinerate her on the spot.

  Blood thundered in her ears as forks of white-hot lightning arced and crackled all around her, over her, through her as the explosive force of her orgasm shot her to the stars.

  A scream shredded her throat as pleasure after pleasure streaked through her and she found herself riding the crest of an endless wave of ecstasy as their tongues maintained their relentless onslaught, wresting cry after shuddering cry of rapture from her lips.

  She was carried aloft, helpless against the endless sucking, licking, fucking that sent her careening into one mindless orgasm after another. Her body jerked, her cunt convulsed, her lungs heaved. They were destroying her, annihilating her. If she survived this, it would be a miracle.

  Overwhelmed with the blistering fury of each new release, she was wailing, sobbing, gasping for breath. Nicholas’s cock was forgotten as she bucked helplessly against the assault of two naughty tongues intent on pleasuring her into oblivion.

  Her thigh muscles were quivering, so weak they could no longer support her weight. Still sobbing, limp with exhaustion, she let them lift her up and turn her around so that she was lying on top of Nicholas, her head on his shoulder. He pulled her up slightly, a move that dragged her sensitive nipples across his hair-roughened chest. His cock was a steel ridge against her belly.

  He claimed her unresisting mouth with his, probing her moist cavern with his questing tongue, in a heated exchange of pure lust. She could taste her own pussy juice, hot and delicious.

  Rolf crawled down the bed to Nicholas’s thighs. Lifting Kathryn’s hips with one hand, he grabbed Nicholas’s enormously erect cock in the other and guided its widely flared purple crest to the opening of her still quivering sheath.

  She gasped at the feel of his heavy flesh penetrating her slick folds, widening the tender passage, filling her with his heat. She lay there shuddering as he thrust upward, embedding himself at least two inches into the raging furnace of her sheath.

  “Sweet Jesu, beloved,” he groaned, his voice harsh and guttural, almost a growl. “You’re so tight. So hot.” He withdrew and pushed in another inch. “You’re burning me alive, sweetness. I can’t wait to be buried all the way inside you.”

  She inhaled sharply, feeling every rock hard inch of his shaft as it penetrated her rippling sheath.

  “Christ! You’re so goddamn tight! You’re gripping me tighter than my own fist!” Hips twisting, he continued to push inside her. “So tight, beloved. So fucking tight!”

  “Nicholas!” she wailed, wiggling her hips in an attempt to guide him all the way inside her, pounding her needy little nub against his pubic bone. “Hurry, my love. Come inside me. I need you inside me!” She was breathless, straining, on the cusp of yet another climax—one that would probably unravel her completely.

  With one last violent upward thrust, Nicholas pierced through her tender tissues, seating his entire length inside the welcoming walls of her vagina.

  She screamed as yet another massive climax catapulted her toward the fiery inferno of the sun. Its heat incinerated every cell in her body as pleasure convulsed through her, ripping moan after moan from her throat.

  She hauled air noisily into her lungs as he withdrew slowly so that only the thickness of his crest remained lodged inside the convulsing passage. Another moan left her lips as he glided back into her heated depths. She felt every hard inch as it speared through her slick, shuddering walls.

  “Christ, beloved.” He sucked in his breath, holding himself still, trying desperately to keep from coming, as she gripped and milked his cock.

  “God, Nicholas, I love the feel of you inside me.” She smiled, deliberately flexing her muscles around him, making him jerk and pulse within her. “In fact, there’s only one more thing I need to make this experience perfect.”

  “I’m ready, yndling.” Rolf knelt between Nicholas’s legs. Grabbing the cheek of her ass with one hand, he fisted his cock with the other, stroking its length as he presented the smooth head at the rosebud tightness of Kathryn’s anus. It was red and hot and glistening with a mixture of her juices and his saliva.

  She whimpered at the bite of pleasure-pain as he pressed against the tight portal, gasped at the burning sensation as he breached the sphincter with his wide crest, sobbed as he penetrated her slowly, entering her dark nether passage in one long, burning glide. Until his cock was balls deep inside her ass.

  God almighty!

  “Thou’rt so beautiful, yndling.” He groaned hoarsely, spreading her ass cheeks with both hands, leaning his upper body back to admire the view. “The way thy sweet little ass sucks me in. Holds me tight. Like it was made just for my cock to fuck it.” He withdrew slightly. “By Odin, kaereste. I wish thou couldst see how thy little hole follows me on the way out—almost as if it doesn’t want me to leave thee.”

  Thrusting his cock back in, he arched backward a little farther, spreading his legs and angling his head to get a better view of the three of them joined together. “By all the gods!” he swore reverently. “Now there’s a pretty sight. Both of our cocks inside thee. Filling thee. Getting ready to fuck thee. Christ, yndling! Thy body is sheer heaven.”

  Rolf could feel the heavy length of Nicholas’s cock through the thin membrane separating the two channels deep within her body. Both cocks were throbbing and jerking.

  Kathryn’s breathing was labored as her body stretched to accept the carnal invasion of two huge cocks into her fore and aft passages. Each gasping breath was audible, almost painful as the two men began moving inside her, began fucking her.

  Nicholas thrust his hips upward as Rolf withdrew until only his cock head was still inside her anus. Then Rolf thrust back in as Nicholas withdrew from her cunt.

  The two cocks moving inside her simultaneously ignited an unimaginable pleasure within her. Pleasure that incinerated her bones, turning her blood to volcanic magma, raging through her body.

  “Oh, God!” she sobbed. “Oh, God! Rolf! Nicholas! That feels so good. So good.” Shudders wracked her body. “I feel you both moving inside me.” Her voice broke as the excruciating pleasure threatened to consume her. She was caught in a whirlwind of sensations that rocked her to her soul. She would never recover from this. Never.

  The ex
quisite rhythm, slow at first, began to accelerate as each man sought both her release and his own. The unrelenting slide of Nicholas’s cock in and out of her clenching vagina, of Rolf’s cock tunneling in and out of her sensitive anus, had every muscle in Kathryn’s body straining, tightening, desperate for yet another climax.

  Harsh male groans rent the air as the men’s strokes became faster. Harder. More erratic. The two cocks hammered in and out of her tightening body as they fucked her harder and harder. All three of them were dripping with sweat.

  Wildfire raged through her, destroying everything in its path. She had no hope of controlling this. No hope of stopping it. She could only succumb to the power of this experience as it destroyed her, body and soul.

  Then Rolf bent low over her back, his skin hot and wet against hers, and snaked his hand around the top of her thigh. Spreading his first two fingers around Nicholas’s cock, he tightened them like a pincer and pressed his thumb against Kathryn’s pearl-like kernel.

  Nicholas suddenly sucked in his breath, his body going rigid beneath Kathryn as his orgasm slammed up his spine, through his balls and out the tip of his steel-hard cock. With a harsh shout he exploded into her, hot bursts of seed jetting against the mouth of her womb.

  Rolf scraped his thumbnail across her pearl and she screamed as her own climax detonated inside her, shattering her into a billion pieces. Pieces so small she would never be able to put herself back together. She would never be able to find all the pieces of herself, because parts of her were now commingled with Rolf and Nicholas. She could no longer tell where she left off and they began.

  A harsh shout above her told her Rolf was coming, even as she felt the hot bursts of his semen burning into her tender ass. He arched his back, his body stiff, his face a contorted mask as he shot jet after jet of thick cum into the depths of her anal passage. Then his hard, sweaty body collapsed over her back, sending the air whooshing from her lungs.

  She was cradled between the two men as all three bodies convulsed in a maelstrom of pleasure. With each new wave that crashed over her, her body clenched, loosened, clenched again as she crested over and over. Her orgasm transported her into a world where naught existed but her ass, her cunt, and the two jerking, pulsing cocks that she was gripping so tightly inside those two exquisitely tender passages.

  She loved these two men more than life itself. Each joining only strengthened that love. And she never wanted the joining to end. She tightened her muscles, eliciting deep groans from both men even as Rolf lifted himself off of her, slowly pulling his now semi-erect cock from the dark pleasure of her back passage with a squelching slurp, dribbling a trail of cum across her ass cheek and onto the sheets.

  She gave a helpless little cry, feeling every inch of his retreat. A shuddery moan wrenched from her throat. She barely noticed that he left the bed, was only dimly aware when he returned with two damp cloths.

  Gently, he rolled her off of Nicholas, sending a torrent of warm cream gushing from her cunt to pool in the thicket of curls at the base of Nicholas’s now-flaccid cock. Rolf handed him one of the cloths while he wiped Kathryn clean of all the thick, milky semen dribbling from both of her openings. Gently working the cool wetness along her slit, up her crease, across the pale satin globes of her buttocks.

  “By Odin, yndling. Thou art so beautiful. So perfect.” He bent down and pressed his lips against each of her smooth ass cheeks. Then he took her lips in a kiss that was as reverent as a prayer. “I love thee, yndling. So much. More than my poor skill with words could ever express.”

  Taking the other cloth from Nicholas, he cleaned himself, then, as per his usual habit, tossed them over his shoulder in the general direction of the wash stand before crawling back into bed and pulling the covers up around them.

  The two men cradled their deeply satisfied woman between them, dropping kisses on her cheeks, her forehead, her mouth, her neck, anywhere they could reach. Each man cupped a breast. Both men hooked their legs over hers.

  She sighed, savoring for a moment the heat enfolding her from their powerful male bodies before sleep finally claimed her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next day, Kathryn spent a busy morning not only conducting the regular business of a prosperous dukedom, but also overseeing the extra labor and expense created by so many extra mouths to feed and people to house. After the noon meal, Nicholas and Rolf suggested a walk, which somehow ended up at the lists to watch archery practice. It looked much like normal archery practice, but for the fact that each arrow carried, just behind the barb, a small clay pot filled with water. The skill lay in adjusting the angle of the arrow to accommodate the extra weight and bulk of the water-filled pot in order to hit the center of the target. She watched in silence as the archers practiced the tricky shots until, overcome with curiosity, she turned to her husband. “Nicholas, what are they doing? Why are those pots attached to the arrow?”

  Nicholas grinned broadly. “That, my love, is my secret weapon. That is what is going to defeat Robert Walford before this fight even begins. Have you ever heard of Greek fire?”

  She shook her head.

  “’Tis a mixture of naphtha, coal tar, sulfur, pine pitch saltpeter, and a few other ingredients. When set alight, it burns with a flame that cannot be extinguished. If doused with water, it spreads and burns hotter.” Turning to her, he took both her hands in his. “Walford has been bragging about his siege engines, about how they were going to destroy my castle stone by stone, thereby bringing about my downfall. But what are siege engines made of?”

  He watched her eyes widen as realization dawned. “Wood.”

  “Exactly. The instant he begins his attack, we will fire barrage after barrage of pots filled with Greek fire, which will then be set alight. His siege engines will be burned to the ground before the first shot is even fired.”

  “So that is your secret weapon,” she exclaimed, excited.

  “Nay, beloved.” His lips quirked at her puzzled expression. “My secret weapon is knowledge. Those books in our solar are not simply for display. They include Greek and Roman historians, philosophers, and scientists. I have read every single one of them, cover to cover. A Byzantine historian by the name of Theophanes described how the use of Greek fire had defeated entire navies.”

  They watched the archers for a long time, Nicholas and Rolf patiently answering Kathryn’s questions. Then they climbed the battlements where another curious sight met her eyes. Many of Nicholas’s villeins were hooking bales of hay off of a dozen or so wagons, and lining them up across the enormous expanse of open space out in front of the castle, about midway between the edge of the forest and the castle’s outer curtain wall. “What is that?” she asked.

  “That,” Nicholas said mysteriously, “is why I am ultimately going to defeat Robert Walford.”

  “I thought the Greek fire was why you were going to defeat Robert Walford.”

  “It is,” was his cryptic response, and no amount of pleading would get him to explain his meaning. So she gave up and spent the rest of the afternoon greeting the villagers as they arrived to take up their brand-new temporary quarters within the castle walls. The carpenters were still putting the finishing touches on some of the dwellings, so the unrelenting sounds of hammering continued to accompany every activity. Tirelessly the new Duchess worked alongside many of the castle’s other residents and servants, pitching in to help unload the rickety carts filled with belongings accumulated over lifetimes.

  This became her routine over the next sennight. One afternoon, as she stood in Moll and Ian Thatcher’s new one-room dwelling, lifting all the little bits and pieces of their lives out of a wooden crate packed with straw—lives that had been disrupted and displaced, all because a besieging army was about to descend upon them—she was assailed by a sense of guilt so overwhelming she feared it would suffocate her.

  Unable to catch her breath, she grabbed her throat with one hand. The pewter tankard she was holding in the other hand slipped out of h
er suddenly nerveless fingers and went crashing to the wooden floor. The world seemed to grind to a halt, slowing all movement and sound. And as she watched the tankard bounce and spin, tumbling slowly end over end, she burst into tears.

  “Yer Grace!” Moll ran over to her, taking her hand and guiding her gently over to sit on a stool. She knelt on the floor beside her. “Merciful ’eaven, Yer Grace! W’ot is it? W’ot’s ’appened? Are ye ’urt?”

  Kathryn’s only response was to rock back and forth on the stool, sobbing uncontrollably and moaning, “’Tis my fault. ’Tis entirely my fault. I’m sorry, Moll. Prithee forgive me.”

  “Ian!” Moll yelled to her startled husband. “Run ’n’ fetch ’Is Grace. And ’urry!” Turning back to Kathryn, she rubbed the backs of the Duchess’s hands with her callused, care-worn fingers, murmuring soothingly, “There, there, lovey, ’tis a’ right. Dry your tears. No need t’ cry. Ol’ Moll is ’ere.”

  Just then Ian dashed back in. But it was not Nicholas who skidded to a halt behind him and ran over to kneel beside Kathryn. It was Rolf. And as Moll and Ian watched, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, he lifted her up in his arms and held her high against his chest, all the while murmuring to her in Danish.

  Still sobbing, she threw her arms around his neck, blindly seeking his warmth, his strength, his comfort, until, gradually, her sobs diminished, finally ending on a shuddering breath. As her body relaxed, she began nuzzling her face against his neck.

  He sank down onto the stool and put his arms around her, holding her in his lap, still whispering Danish endearments in her ear. One big hand began stroking up and down her back.

  He looked up at Moll, and at the look of astonishment on her face, his expression gentled into a smile. “’Tis all right, Moll, she is my liege lady and I am sworn to honor and protect her. Now, what happened to overset her?”

  Moll spread her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “I know no’, my lord. She were ’elpin’ me put things away on yon shelf. An’ all o’ a sudden-like she were sobbin’ and sayin’ over and over ’ow ’twere all ’er fault.” Moll picked up the tankard Kathryn had dropped, inspected it, then held it out for Kathryn to see. “’Tis a’ right, lovey. See? No’ even a dent. Certainly no’ worth cryin’ over. Now, now, ye dry those tears, sweetness. Ol’ Moll’s no’ upset wi’ ye. These things ’appen. ’Tis no’ yer fault.” Agitated, she stood looking down at the distraught young Duchess, biting her lip and wringing her hands helplessly.