Alistair pushed his hand between their sticky bodies and rested his finger on her nubbin, As soon as he touched it, she wanted them to fuck her again, now. She wiggled her hips, making their cocks slide around inside her. Devon groaned and grabbed her ass, ramming his cock deep inside her again.
“Woman, you’d make a dead man rise to swive you,” he gasped, pumping into her again.
Alistair held her leg in the air to move his own body harder into hers, and then, as before, the men gripped her between them and began pumping. This time she was instantly on edge, knowing how good the release would be. She clenched her internal muscles gripping their cocks and swiveled her hips until Alistair slapped her on the nubbin. It wasn’t a very hard slap because of their bodies being so very close together, but the intense pleasure and pain sent her into release once again, her body rippling around both cocks and gripping them hard. The two men pounded into her forcefully, and then heat filled her, and they relaxed.
“God’s blood, we must do that more often,” swore Alistair.
“But not too often, or we’ll both be dead men,” gasped Devon.
Chapter Four
Devon could not ease his mind of the feeling that something would surely go wrong soon. He had no reason for his belief, but just as a peasant would say determinedly, “It will snow within a week,” and it would, so, too, he knew something was out of place in their world.
The carpenter had repaired Rhyannon’s storage chest, and he’d done such good work no one would know it had been broken. The bedding was mended, with long neat seams where Lord Coll had slashed the linens and furs with his dagger. Rhyannon’s precious Court dress was proving a more difficult project though. He and Alistair had sworn to buy her silk and thread for a new gown at the midsummer market, but the ladies not had yet given up hope of finding a way to repair the panels. The main problem was it had been ripped in the center front from neck to hem, so any repair couldn’t be hidden. Rhyannon thought she may be able to design some embroidery pattern to disguise the problem. Devon shrugged and left it to the women. All he knew was, if he ever took her to Court, it would be in a gown that every other lady there would envy. On that, both he and Alistair had given a solemn oath.
“Smoke!” came the piping treble shout of a child lookout.
Devon raced to the battlements and saw the child was right. It was one of the most far-distant hamlets, he thought, and either someone’s fire had gotten out of control in a very bad way, or a marauder was burning the hamlet.
Lord Rhys gathered half his men, doubled the guard with the other half, and they rode out of the courtyard in a group, some of the men still pulling on their gauntlets and helmets as they rode.
Hammond ordered all the women and children into the castle, and the guards paced the battlements.
“Is it Lord Jeffrey again, do you think?” asked Devon.
“But why burn a hamlet? There’s no logic in that,” objected Albin.
“But Lord Jeffrey no longer seems to be acting with logic,” replied Devon. For example, why ever had he wanted to marry Lady Rhyannon? That made no sense. She had no lands or wealth to bring him, and he was a landed noble now. He could aim for a much richer woman. Was it that he still planned to take the stronghold and thought it would be easier to achieve with Lady Rhyannon at his side? Devon knew in his heart this smoke was the bad news he’d been anticipating.
Shouts came from the other side of the castle, and Devon and Hammond raced to the rear wall, facing the field and river. People were straggling across the river, swimming, holding babies high over their heads, some dragging possessions, most helping each other.
Hammond sent Wade into the castle, yelling, “Warn the women to get all the blankets out ready and build up the fire. It’s much too cold for people to be swimming.”
The one-handed man hurried away, swarming down the ladder as fast as any man with two hands.
Although they watched all night, no attack came to the castle, however more people from other hamlets arrived, some of whom had also chosen to brave the river rather than take the much longer journey via the road. Others came more slowly, herding their animals with them.
It had been Lady Elinor’s idea to have all the people learn to swim to help them escape from danger if necessary. It appeared she’d been very wise, as their swimming lessons had proven most useful.
After dark, the child Nerida appeared in the great hall to speak to Lord Rhys. He and his men had arrived much too late to help the two villages that had been attacked. Fortunately, the people had seen the rogue soldiers approaching from a long way off and had fled, although some had lost everything, their houses burned, their crops and animals stolen.
“Yes, Nerida?” asked Lord Rhys gently.
“When the soldiers were coming, I hid up a tree to watch. No one can hide better than me. I let my body blend into the trunk as Wade has taught us, and no one ever knew I was there.”
“Well done indeed, child. And what did you see?”
The people of her village were still huddled in blankets before the fire, their clothing hanging on benches tipped into their sides beside the fire to dry. Some of them were still shaking in fear, even though they’d escaped and were safely inside the stronghold now.
“Lord Jeffrey was the one who told the soldiers to burn our houses. Lord Coll objected and wanted the food and animals saved. Some animals ran away as the soldiers were slow at catching them. Lord Jeffrey agreed to take the grain, and it was loaded on the back of their horses. One bag broke and spilled everywhere, and Lord Coll threatened to stab that soldier.”
“That does sound like Cousin Coll,” muttered Devon to Rhyannon.
“Lord Jeffrey went into the houses, and I think he was looking for valuable things, although why he could imagine such things would be in a peasant hamlet, I don’t understand. He brought out my orange, and he threw it against a burning wall.”
The outage in the child’s tone would have been comic, except that Devon knew how seldom a peasant child had an expensive fruit such as an orange to eat. He could remember her winning two oranges at the tourney and thought if anyone had stolen his prize purse, he’d have been angry, too.
“That is all?” asked Lord Rhys.
Nerida nodded. “Yes, lord. Lord Coll seemed very angry and unhappy, but Lord Jeffrey was wandering around almost aimlessly once two of the houses were burning. He didn’t tell the men to burn the other houses, or to chase the animals that got away, or to loot the buildings, or anything.”
Devon spoke, “So you think the idea to attack the hamlet was Lord Coll’s idea?”
“Yes, lord. I was surprised to see him with Lord Jeffrey because I thought he went home to be married a week since.”
“So did we all,” muttered Lord Rhys. “Thank you, Nerida, you brought us valuable information. Tomorrow we’ll post guards at all the more distant hamlets, although I cannot guess what Lord Coll and Lord Jeffrey are planning.”
Rhys turned to the gathered crowd. “Hammond, Albin, Lord Devon, we must talk. Byram, ensure all these people are given food, but no strong ale is to be drunk by anyone. Wade, tell the guards that double duty will continue for now.”
* * * *
The men talked for hours, drinking watered wine, and trying to understand why Lord Coll had gone to stay with Lord Jeffrey, but came to no decisions at all other than that Lord Coll had some plan to steal Lady Rhyannon’s jewels.
“But it makes no sense. He has money to buy all the jewels his wife could wish for,” objected Hammond.
“Or does he? Does anyone know truly that his father’s lands were in good condition when he inherited them or that he hasn’t lost his inheritance in battle? He’s acting like a man who absolutely must have these jewels, and not just because he’s promised them to a woman he hasn’t married yet,” said Father Augustus.
“Unless her father has insisted the jewels form part of the marriage settlement,” added Devon.
“Yes, that’s possible, t
oo. The problem is that we don’t know. Father Augustus, I’m afraid we’ll be relying on you to write letters to your friends at Court again,” said Rhys.
Father Augustus just nodded.
“In the matter of Lord Jeffrey…” began Albin hesitantly.
“Yes?” encouraged Lord Rhys.
“We know his helmet has a dent on the left side, above his ear. He doesn’t sit straight upon his horse anymore either but leans to the left. And since he won Lord Rhys’s demesne, he hasn’t been acting as a victorious warrior. At times, he acts more like a small child needing to be told what to do every step of the way.”
“That’s true. When he proposed to Lady Rhyannon, it was as if he’d learned a lesson to recite and could think of nothing else to say. Also, he always used to ride well. Not sitting upright on his horse is a new thing,” remembered Devon.
“You were there at the battle, Lord Devon. Do you think he may have suffered an injury to his head that has scrambled his brains?” asked Albin.
“He spent the entire first week drinking. He drank until the ale barrels ran dry,” said Devon slowly. “I suppose he may have drunk to dull a pain in his head, rather than simply to celebrate his winning the land he wanted so much. I hadn’t thought of it that way before. Certainly, it would explain his more recent actions. He’s not demonstrating any leadership of his men, nor attempting to rule his new lands.”
“I believe Albin may be right. He has never been lord of lands before and doesn’t instinctively know what he should be doing to prepare for winter. When his men suggest things to him, he thinks and thinks before finally making a decision. That’s not the response of a warrior who is used to making quick decisions on a battlefield,” said Hammond.
“Why would Lord Coll have gone to stay with Lord Jeffrey though? Could they have met at Court?”
“It’s possible they met there. After all, Lord Jeffrey stayed at Court for a very long time. I never received a useful answer about Lord Jeffrey’s time at Court. No one believed he was working for the King. One priest told me he’d wooed several landed ladies unsuccessfully, but as to why he’d stayed there three years, no one knows,” said Father Augustus.
“Are there other people you could ask? I don’t like it that those two men have joined forces. Both men of ungoverned temper, and both suitors rejected by Lady Rhyannon. Lord Jeffrey’s brain may be scrambled, but his sword arm can still do a lot of damage to our people, and Lord Coll’s temper is a weapon all by itself,” said Lord Rhys.
“If Lord Coll was truly to be married in a month, he must depart for Court very soon,” said Devon.
“However, if he needs the jewels to be married, that only means he will be attacking our people again without delay,” said Hammond.
“Tomorrow, I’ll send guards to all the hamlets. If the people wish, they can come into the stronghold for winter,” said Lord Rhys.
But have we stored enough food for all these extra people, especially if their own animals and grain have been taken?
Devon was worried.
* * * *
Lady Elinor’s belly had started to round out with the child she was carrying. Rhyannon had guessed she was pregnant when she’d found her being violently ill one morning, but Lady Elinor had refused to tell her men, Hammond and Lord Rhys, until three moons had passed. “Many times, a promised babe doesn’t arrive. I will wait until later,” she’d repeated for those long weeks.
But now she was happily accepting everyone’s comments about the coming child, and Rhyannon was very excited for her. A child meant an heir to the stronghold, which gave everyone living there a piece of extra security.
Rhyannon hadn’t really thought about pregnancy but found herself wishing for a daughter to pass on her mother’s jewels. They’d belonged first to her mother’s mother, so to continue giving them to a daughter had a lovely feeling of tradition and solidity to it.
Alistair planted his seed in her belly most nights, and very occasionally, Devon took her in the cunt instead of the ass, so any child she bore could potentially be her husband’s. But mostly, Rhyannon just enjoyed being in bed with the two men. Even if Devon fucked Alistair without her being involved at all, she found watching them incredibly exciting so that, as soon as one of them touched her intimately, she invariably achieved her pleasure almost instantly. She loved to watch a man’s ass pumping, his cock sliding in and out, his hips and thighs ramming home, his muscles clenching and releasing, especially as the men were two she loved and respected.
This night, the men decided that Alistair should plow her while Devon plowed Alistair. Rhyannon had no disagreement with this plan. As Devon pumped into Alistair, she could feel his movements as well as experience Alistair’s responses. Tonight, she wrapped her legs around both of them, digging her heels into Devon’s sides. Alistair became even more aroused as she pressed close against him so her legs could grip onto Devon and rammed into her long and hard, making little grunting sounds on every in-stroke.
Devon matched his actions to Alistair’s, so the double strength of the pushing in affected Rhyannon, giving her twice the pleasure. Also, having her heels on Devon’s sides connected the three of them completely together, and she liked that, too.
Devon, groaned and gasped, “Much too good,” and through her feet, she felt him shoot his essence into Alistair. Heat burst inside her right then, as Alistair released his seed. The thrill of their three-fold union was enough to give her pleasure, and her cunt began to ripple. Alistair made sure she received pleasure by moving his head and sucking her nipple and areola deep into his mouth as the last of his seed jetted into her cunt.
The extra attention made her cunt quiver harder and grip his cock more tightly, and she sighed in pleasure as her body melted into the mattress. Being with them both was so good. The two of them cared for her so well and always ensured she received pleasure. Many women had no such consideration from their husbands. Rhyannon still lay awake some nights remembering her father’s last two wives screaming in pain.
As she lay now, wrapped in two men’s arms, cherished and protected, she thought about that. Yes, indeed there had been pain on her first time, and soreness for a few days afterward, but not ongoing screaming agony. Wherein had her father failed? He’d fathered no child, but had desperately wanted to, so had swived his wives regularly. She knew he hit them, too, but that would not have made them all barren, especially when he’d wanted a child. He most certainly would never have punched his wife in the belly, as she knew some other men did, hoping to get rid of an unwanted child.
“Why do you think my father’s wives screamed and screamed in pain as he fucked them?” she asked.
“He wanted a son very much, didn’t he?” said Alistair.
“Oh yes, it’s why he kept marrying again as each one died.”
Devon leaned up on one elbow to look at her. “They all died? How many wives did he have?”
“My mother, then three more wives after her. He was looking for another bride when he died himself.”
“Many young brides die in childbed, but you said none but your mother conceived, is that not so?”
“Yes, Devon, there was no pregnancy after me. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that your father may have broken their bones, and that is why they screamed, not from the bedding. If a woman had a broken arm, or rib, and a man lay on her, his weight would cause her great pain.”
“That’s true,” said Alistair. “Also men die on the battlefield if a rib punctures a lung. The man can no longer breathe, blood bubbles in his mouth, and soon he is dead. You’ve often said your father was an angry man. Did he hit his wives?”
“He hit anyone who annoyed him. Mostly, I stayed out of his sight, but a wife can’t do that, of course. And the last two wives both grew pale and thin and stopped eating. If they were in pain from a broken bone, they wouldn’t eat, would they?”
“Not only that, breaking ribs leaves no bruises anyone could comment on. They would all
be hidden by clothing, so no one would reprimand him. I’m sorry, Rhyannon, but I think your father may not have been a chivalrous knight. It’s no wonder you were worried about your Cousin Coll when you said he acted like your father,” said Devon.
“Pity the poor woman about to marry Coll then,” said Alistair.
“Yes indeed. Perhaps we are helping her by not giving him my jewels,” said Rhyannon only half joking.
They lay down again, and then Devon asked hesitantly, “Alistair, why did you say you would never return home. Your father acknowledges you as his son, so what’s the problem?”
“Oh, that’s simple. It’s nothing secret. I was born to a girl he fell in love with, but then he married the woman chosen by his family. His wife is very jealous of the rights of her son, and it’s her son who inherits my father’s estate, even though I’m two years older than him. Since I couldn’t inherit, and had to make my own way in the world, the easiest solution is for me not to go home again. I know my parents love me and wish we well, and I’m happy and have a good life here. I’m grateful to you, Devon, for sharing your wife with me. And I’m grateful to you, Rhyannon, for loving me. I love you both very much.”
Rhyannon snuggled down between them. She loved them both, too, so much it took her breath away.
Devon said, “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I love you both, too. I never thought to love a woman—or a man other than in a soldierly manner—but you two fulfill and complete me in a way I never dreamed possible. I can’t imagine life without both of you in it.”
Rhyannon leaned over and kissed Devon, then Alistair, both of them full on the lips. “You’ve both made me very happy. No woman could have two more caring men.”
She slid down their bodies and pushed their hips together. She sucked first one cock, then the other, into her mouth, cupping both sets of balls with her hands while she licked along Devon’s shaft, then Alistair’s, sucked Alistair’s cockhead, then Devon’s. Deliberately, she moved from one to the other without establishing a pattern to keep her two men on edge.
Defending Rhyannon's Inheritance [Elinor's Stronghold 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 5
