Her Bastard Bridegroom

by Alice Coldbreath

  “Oh?” she asked, caressing the back of his neck lightly with her fingers. She snuggled closer, obviously not too concerned about the consequences, he noted wryly.

  He rounded the corner, ignoring the startled gazes of the servants and booted their bedroom door open. One of the maids was still making the bed. “Out,” he said loudly as the maid hurriedly smoothed the pillows and then scurried past them with scarlet cheeks.

  “Thank you,” Linnet called politely after her. The door slammed shut. Mason dropped her onto the mattress and started tearing off his clothes, suddenly desperate to join with her. “Toss up your skirts,” he said at her as he dragged his tunic up over his head.

  “Wait!” panted Linnet and started to crawl off the bed.

  Mason’s hand shot out to catch her by the ankle and drag her back into the center of the mattress. He frowned at her as unlaced his crotch. “Don’t move.”

  “Could I just-“ she scooted across the mattress and dropped onto the floor. “It won’t take a moment,” she gabbled as she started searching in her chest of drawers, searching for something.

  He watched her with growing impatience. “Linnet,” he growled. His ardor was not abating one bit. He wanted her now.

  “Here it is!” She held up a small jar, her face flushed with triumph.

  “What the hells is it?” he asked with sudden misgiving.

  “Oh, well,” she swallowed. “Tis just a little something Mother Ames gave to me… for my… for my chest.”

  He rolled his eyes. “There’s naught amiss with your breathing Linnet,” he said a little sharper than he intended. He didn’t want to rub goose-fat or some other quackery onto her pretty tits, though he did want to get his hands on them. She bit her lip and he felt suddenly like an ill-mannered lout. After all, it wasn’t her fault her family had turned her into a malingerer. And here he was treating her like some common bar wench! He sighed, his patience wearing thin. “Very well, bring it here,” he said in a long-suffering voice. “But take your dress off.”

  She started fumbling with her lacings and he stripped off his boots and chausses, standing only his braies, which tented with his arousal. “Come here.”

  She came closer, not quite meeting his gaze. “It has to be rubbed into my chest, fifty rotations in total,” her voice was slightly strangled as her face went up in flames.

  “Is that so?” He was yanking at her laces now. “Lift up your arms.” He tugged her dress up over her head, leaving her stood before him in her shift, slim but shapely. And all his. He cleared his throat. “You’ll have to lower your neckline,” he told her practically as he took the small pot from her hand. He dipped his fingers into the ointment and sniffed them. “Smells like honey,” he commented with a frown, turning to find his wife now kneeling on the bed before him, her shift slipped down t her waist, her perky breasts completely bared to him. Her pink nipples stiffened under his incredulous gaze. He almost dropped the pot. She was gazing off fixedly to some point to the left.

  “If you could – um, rub it in anti-clockwise is best apparently…” she swallowed and closed her eyes as Mason stood there dry-mouthed staring at her. If it was anyone else other than Linnet he would think she was trying to seduce him. But he knew that couldn’t possibly be the case with his sheltered little bride, so instead he took a deep breath and climbed up on the bed beside her, before settling back on his haunches to steel himself for the ordeal. She let out a small squeak when his fingers made contact with the delicate skin between her breasts, rubbing ever so gently in a small circular motion.

  “Here?” he asked. Even to his own ears his voice sounded husky. Keep it together Mason! For fuck’s sake, can’t you even rub some innocuous ointment into her chest without wanting to pounce on her?

  “No,” she corrected him breathlessly. “That’s not right… If you could just…” Her hand flew over his and taking a deep breath she drew it directly over her left breast. “Here.” He let out a groan at this and her eyes flew to his looking stricken. “I – I’m sorry,” she apologized. “If you don’t want to…”

  “It’s not that,” he corrected her swiftly and unable to help himself swiped his thumb across one perfectly pink nipple. She made a stifled sound which made his cock twitch but didn’t complain at his licentious treatment. She hadn’t mentioned rubbing it into her nipples, he thought dizzily as he curled his honey-slick fingers around her delicate, breast and slowly circled her soft flesh.

  “Like this?” he asked in a low gruff voice.

  “Oh yes,” she answered sweetly and again, the sound went straight to his dick. He winced slightly as he lengthened and grew harder. But really under such stimulation, who could blame him?

  You- you’ll need to do the other next,” she said anxiously, her eyes flying open. “The same amount of circles. I don’t want one bigger than the other.”

  He shook his head slightly. He had no idea what the fuck she was talking about. It trickled through his brain that her other breast wanted some attention. Well, he was fine with that. He reached for the pot with his other hand and dipped his fingers in it, bringing them to her right breast which he ministered to similarly, unable to stop himself from lightly tweaking the dusky rose nipple before he started. She gave a soft gasp at that and pressed her lips firmly together, staring fixedly at his chest, breathing heavily. Her shining hair fell forward onto her shoulders and she shuddered. He started rubbing them more firmly in tandem, enjoying the feel of them and how well they fitted into his palm. In truth he’d always preferred a fuller bosom but his wife’s high perky breasts had a charm all of their own. His lust ramped up another notch when he realized Linnet was now rubbing back against his touch, her eyes drifting shut and then snapping open again, pupils dilated. Sweet heavens! She was like a little cat enjoying being stroked. Leaning into his caress, reveling in it. He swallowed watching her flushed face. She was weak to this, being touched, being pleased. She wasn’t accustomed physical pleasure. He remembered how naturally she gave herself up to him and felt himself begin to throb with the need to join with her again. His own breathing was somewhat ragged and he dropped his hands suddenly at the realization he was reaching a dangerous level of arousal if he was supposed to hold out till he was inside her. Her eyes flew open again.

  “Was that fifty?” she asked throatily.

  “Twenty five each,” he lied. He had absolutely no fucking clue. “Lie back on the mattress,” he told her abruptly. Time to suffer the consequences of your husband’s cock.

  “Um…” she made no move to lie back. He stared at her. Was she trying to test his goddamn limits? He wondered incredulously.

  “What?” he asked unable to help himself. What the hell did she want from him now?

  “Well, for maximum efficacy,” she mumbled almost incoherently, “You have to …”

  He craned his ears to catch her words. “What was that?” he asked sharply.

  “… Lick it off,” she whispered, shame-faced.

  He stared as she turned rosy-pink all the way up her neck to the tips of her ears. There was a rushing sound in his ears and the next thing he knew he had yanked her forward into his lap so she straddled his steely erection. He held her gaze deliberately for a couple of heart-beats before lowering his head to open his voracious mouth against her left breast. She cried out as he licked her nipple in several firm swipes of his tongue before sucking the whole of her breast into his hot mouth. As she bumped against his groin, he palmed her peachy derriere and pulled her even tighter against his turgid cock. She undulated against him, her hands flying to run through his hair, massaging his scalp and encouraging him as he suckled at her and swirled his tongue around her hard, puckered nipple. She shivered as he released her breast with seeming reluctance before turning his attentions to her other breast.

  “Ohhhhh,” she whimpered, arching her back and pressing even firmer into his embrace, his hungry mouth, his rock-hard cock. “Oh Mason!” Her voice was so breathy, like a siren. His blood was poundin
g in his head with the need to possess, to take from her sweetness.

  “Was this what you wanted?” he asked her in a low growl, panting against the delicate swell of her bosom.

  “Yes,” she answered dreamily without a trace of guile, her hands still running through his hair.

  “So glad I could oblige,” he replied sounding pained. “But now you’ve had what you want, I think it’s my turn.” He thrust his hips up so she could be in no doubt as to his meaning. Her eyes flew wide.

  “You don’t need any ointment on that,” she panted in alarm. “It’s already big enough I’m sure.”

  “What?” he asked with a frown, grasping the hem of her shift, pulling it up over her head so she was now fully naked and squirming on his lap. He caught his breath at the sight of her naked, pale and scattered in golden freckles. Beautiful. All mine. He shook his head again, his thoughts confusing him. It seemed to him now, that he could barely remember a time that he had not been attracted to her. He tipped her onto her back and covered her with his body. "Kiss me, Linnet," he said huskily as he took her mouth. Gods, she felt so good. He groaned as he felt her palms move down his sides to his hips. "Touch me some more," he whispered against her jaw. She only hesitated a second before her hands slid around to his cock. He hissed through his teeth and she froze.

  "Is that not..."

  He swore. "Next time," he promised. "I need to be inside you now. Open your legs." Gods she was sweet. And probably needed his touch before he ploughed her. Godsdamnit! He reached down, breathing through his nose only to find her wet and ready for him. "Linnet, sweetheart," he whispered as he settled between her thighs and entered her in a swift, sure thrust. She gasped beneath him, her hands clutching at his back. Planting one hand on the mattress by her shoulder, he braced himself against her as he thrust, slow and steady. "I want your eyes on me Linnet," he said in a voice so gravelly he could barely recognize his own voice. He breathed out as he waited for her eyes to open, and then basked in the warmth of her hazel green eyes. Had he once thought them pale and insipid? Hard to remember he'd once been indifferent to her charms. "That's it," he gasped, running a hand up and down one of her smooth thighs as his muscles rippled and clenched. The mattress creaked. He clenched his jaw against the pleasure she was giving him as they moved together in a tangle of limbs. Gods, he just wanted to lose himself in her body's tight embrace. Words flew out of his mouth, without his brain engaging. "Don't hide from me like you did before."

  Her eyes widened. "When? I did not-"

  "Last night. When you turned away from me," he muttered, his eyes piercing her confused stare.

  "Oh..." she bit her lip, her body arching against his relentless rhythm.

  "Please, Mason," she whimpered.

  "Yes?"

  "I did not mean to shut you out," she breathed raggedly. "Never, never, never..."

  "Don't," he groaned raggedly, his own eyes closing.

  "Husband?"

  For some twisted reason, he felt pure pleasure at being addressed thus whilst deep inside her.

  "Wife," he whispered huskily, lowering his brow until their foreheads touched. For one moment, they both stared into each other’s eyes, hovering on the brink of bliss together and then he felt her tip over the edge, her cunny tightening and convulsing around him until with a shout he found himself spilling inside her. Holy hells. He dropped his face into her neck and concentrated on keeping the top of his head in-tact. He felt Linnet's knees squeeze into his still moving hips as she gasped into his shoulder.

  "Don't move," he rasped, desperate to maintain their physical connection.

  In answer, her arms reached up to wind about his neck, holding him close. He felt the strangest ache in his chest, which didn't dissipate until he wrapped his arms around her in return. They lay quiet and still, the only sound in the room their labored breathing. When he felt her gently start to stroke his hair he knew he should pull away, but didn't.

  Because he was a fucking idiot.

  XV

  Linnet had her first riding lesson two days later with Diggory in the long meadow. He brought a very steady mare called Fira for her, and a pony for Cuthbert named Cadby who had rather more spirit. Linnet immediately fell for Fira who had gentle eyes and a patient manner. Cuthbert and Cadby’s relationship was a lot more contentious and her little page was trodden on and bucked off twice before their lesson was done. Cuthbert seemed to take it all in good part although Linnet found herself wincing more than once in sympathy.

  “You got to show them who’s master,” Diggory told him sternly. He turned back to Linnet. “You’m doin’ very nicely miss. I mean, your ladyship.”

  “Thank you Diggory. I mean to practice every day.”

  His eyes widened a bit at this and he scratched his head. “Don’t want you to overdo it, Lady Vawdrey,” he cautioned.

  “Oh I won’t, I assure you. I just mean to do a little.”

  “Lady Linnet climbs her old tower every morning ten times before breakfast,” said Cuthbert, whose pony was now cantering in a wide circle on a leading string, while Linnet followed at a rather more sedate pace with Diggory holding onto the bridle. Fira’s legs were twice as long as Cadby’s so they kept pretty much apace.

  “Twelve times this morning,” she announced proudly.

  Diggory’s eyes bugged out again. “He’s never got you running soldier’s drills?”

  “Pardon?”

  He coughed. “The master.”

  Linnet’s frown cleared. “Oh I see! No, though perhaps I should ask him for some?” she suggested with a laugh.

  Diggory blinked.

  “It is merely my own pursuit in the improvement of my health,” she explained.

  “Granny told her to,” puffed Cuthbert as his pony once again tried to dislodge him from his saddle.

  “Oh the wise woman!” muttered Diggory. “Well, that’s different.”

  “Why’s Rolfe stood watching our lesson?” asked Cuthbert indignantly over his shoulder. “Gawping at us! Hey Rolfe!”

  Rolfe who was polishing his pike-staff whilst stood over by the fence, straightened up and levelled a glare at Cuthbert. “Doing my duty, master sauce-box!” he shouted back promptly. He then bowed at Linnet and flushed all over his round, homely face.

  “Hush Cuthbert!” shushed Linnet hastily. “Sir Mason has asked for us to be accompanied by a guard every time we leave the castle. Tis a cautionary measure only.”

  “What for?” asked Cuthbert rudely. “You’ve got me for your guard.” He puffed out his chest.

  “Indeed I do,” Linnet smiled at him. “But sometimes husband are a little over-protective.” She noticed Diggory was staring at this and rubbing his stubbly chin. “Are you married Diggory?”

  “Nay my lady.”

  “Diggory’s courting Gertie,” said Cuthbert slyly. “One of the castle maids.”

  “Oh, indeed?” asked Linnet noticing the tips of the groom’s ears had turned a dull red. “A very good girl, Gertie.”

  Diggory shot a look of annoyance at Cuthbert and cleared his throat. “Oh aye,” he mumbled. Linnet realized that men of all rank must not like discussing matters of the heart and sighed. She would ask Gertie how long they had been courting. Men were strange creatures.

  After the riding lesson they returned to the castle via the courtyard. Linnet made sure to nod and smile at any of the servants that she passed. Although some of them still looked alarmed at the sight of her, others at least were now smiling back at her and meeting her gaze as they bobbed their heads in greeting. Back at the castle she found a parcel had been sent from Mr Hatton the cobbler. Inside it was a very neat pair of ankle boots in brown leather and a pair of black leather shoes with a strap that passed over your foot which Linnet was thrilled with. These would do very well indeed! She sat down and wrote a note of thanks to the shoe-maker and counted out the sum of money he was owed along with a tip for the speed with which her order was delivered. After she had dispatched a servant into town to deli
ver the payment she settled to some further illustration of Sir Maurency’s tales. There was a chill in the air, so she had a fire lit in the grate and drew a warm shawl about her shoulders and lost herself in among the vellum pages. A couple of hours had surely passed when Nan the maid knocked on the door and announced she had a visitor which turned out to be Lady Enid Jauncey. Cuthbert had been snoozing on the window seat and sprang up to fetch refreshments from the kitchen. Linnet made haste to kiss her friend’s cheek and draw her to the fire.

  “Enid! You are very welcome. Most welcome. Did you ride over alone?” Enid’s cheeks were flushed and she wore a deep red dress which complimented her brown eyes and dark hair which she wore braided into a coronet about her head and then covered with a fine lawn veil.

  “Indeed,” Enid agreed returning her embrace. She held onto Linnet’s upper arms and peered into her face. “I think you have a good, high color today Linnet. You look very well,” she said approvingly.

  Linnet blushed with pleasure. “Thank you. I have had my first riding lesson this afternoon. Please, sit down.”

  Enid sat beside her on a cushioned bench. “And how did you find it?”

  “I liked it very much. They found me a very patient horse.”

  Enid laughed. “When you have found your seat you can try a more spirited mount.”

  “Oh no, I am very happy with Fira and have no aspirations to be a great horsewoman. Only to be able to get out and about.”

  “But what is this?” asked Enid, leaning forward to examine her manuscript. “Never say this is your own work, Linnet?”

  “Oh, ‘tis just something I do to occupy my spare time.”

  “Oh but these pages are very fine! Such beautiful penmanship. And the illustrations… they’re exquisite!”

  “Thank you. It is the work of some several years now. I am illustrating the tales of Sir Maurency of Jorde.”

  “What a lovely idea!” exclaimed Enid. “How very talented you are. It has been some years since I read those tales. May I see your completed manuscript sometime?”