Sword Play Page 6

  Whether tonight he could bury himself once more in her blossom-scented warmth, and flood her with his seed. Whether he could do the two thousand other delightful things he wanted to do with her.

  Whether his cock would actually survive long enough or explode long before she’d given him a yea or nay.

  And, as she neared the table, hips swaying, eyes downcast, the likelihood of the latter drastic event occurring became much stronger.

  He politely seated her in the chair next to him.

  “Good evening, Lady Constance. Is this not a grand celebration?”

  It was a miracle. His cock was still attached to him, and his voice was actually functioning.

  Of course his hands were trembling a little as he poured her some wine, but he prayed she’d not noticed.

  She cleared her throat. Apparently her voice was not functioning quite so well. “Indeed, my Lord. Your Keep does you proud.”

  She took a thirsty drink from her goblet.

  “Will you dine, Lady?” asked Magnus, selecting a choice morsel from his trencher and offering it to her.

  Such gestures were commonplace, and a mere sign of respect to an honored guest. But Magnus knew she’d have to let him place the food in her mouth. She’d have to let him brush her lips with his fingers.

  His body was close to igniting as he watched her open her mouth to accept his offering. She swallowed as he fixed her gaze and slipped the meat onto her tongue.

  He grazed the inner surface of her lip with his rough finger as he pulled his hand away—a quick touch, unnoticed by anyone but Constance.

  Who squirmed on her chair.

  Magnus bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from grinning like a madman. She was going to say yes. He just knew it.

  His spirits soared to the rafters and danced among the smoke of the torches as the minstrels played a merry tune.

  “And so, Lady Constance. The sun is set and it is time for you to give me an answer to my offer.” He placed his knife down next to his trencher and wiped his mouth and hands on a moist cloth.

  “What say you? Will you come to me and learn from me? Will you give yourself over to the pleasures we can explore together? And will you undertake to begin this very night?”

  Magnus could have sworn the entire world held its breath waiting for her response, but in reality the entire world couldn’t have cared less. It was only he who was poised for her answer and only he possessed of a cock harder than the rafters of his great hall. He was the only man whose heart was pounding like a war drum.

  She also passed a cloth over her lips, although she’d eaten little, then raised her eyes and met his gaze.

  “Yes.”

  *~~*~~*

  Well this was it. She’d made her decision. The flare of passion that lit Magnus’ eyes as he stared at her nearly choked her with its intensity.

  “I am well pleased, Constance. ‘Tis my desire to pleasure you. Fully. To take you, and by default me, to wonderful places and explore wonderful new sensations.”

  His voice sounded strained, a little rough, as if he too was anxious, ready and more than willing for what was to come.

  By Saint Beatrice’s slippers, she was certainly ready.

  She made to rise, but his hand stayed her in her seat.

  “Not yet, my Lady. There is still a meal to be finished and this gay evening to be enjoyed. I cannot desert my guests so early. And neither can you.”

  She tried hard not to let an exasperated sigh erupt from between her lips, but a smile told her that she’d failed. He knew she was as anxious as he was.

  “Have you ever considered that the process of arousal can be as pleasant in many ways as the act itself?”

  She blinked. “I don’t understand, my Lord.”

  The smile widened. “Think, Constance. Think how you felt when I gave you that morsel of meat…let’s try it again.”

  He searched for another piece in the trencher before him, and raised it once more to her lips.

  This time, he brushed them with the food, teasingly and lightly, encouraging them to part for him.

  Constance was helpless. She opened her mouth, only to find his finger and thumb pressing the meat between her lips. He deliberately let his finger slide across her tongue as she accepted his gesture. As he withdrew, he allowed his thumb to catch inside her mouth and tug it slightly, encouraging her to suckle it along with the juices from the morsel.

  She felt more than heard his indrawn breath, and something pleasurable shot to her groin as she watched him respond.

  His eyelids lowered and his eyes fastened on her lips as he slowly slid his thumb from her mouth.

  He shocked her when he brought that same thumb to his own mouth and licked it clean of her taste and the remaining gravy.

  “Do you see? See how the slightest suckle from your sweet lips makes my whole body pound? This is the beginning, Constance.”

  She shook her head, trying to deal with his words at the same time as her body was quietly trembling from his touch.

  He took her hand from the table and dropped it to his thigh, pressing it hard against the length that swelled there, turning to gaze at the revelers as he did so. She nearly jumped as the heat from his aroused cock burned through his breeches and into her palm.

  In spite of herself, her fingers curled to hold him, and once again he suppressed a gasp. The thin fabric did little to cloak the veins and ridges of his splendid weapon, the one he’d be using to conquer her in a short time.

  “Feel how ready I am, sweet Constance? Ready to take you, plunder your secrets, dive deep into your fire.”

  She swallowed.

  “And I know you’ll be ready too. I’ll wager that were I to slip my hand beneath that fine kirtle of yours, I’d find you hot and wet betwixt your thighs. Wouldn’t I?”

  He squeezed her hand tighter around his cock, and she squirmed again, the tell-tale dampness leaking profusely now between her thighs. She was, as he so aptly said, hot and wet. She prayed that her dark ruby skirts would hide the evidence of her state.

  “What shall we do first, my Lady? Shall you undress me, or shall I slowly peel you out of your garments, kissing each and every spot of naked skin that I reveal?”

  Eyes wide she turned to his gaze. “You mean to completely disrobe?”

  It was Magnus’ turn to blink. “Lady, lovemaking is always a matter of nakedness. That’s part of the pleasure.”

  “Oh.” Her mind churned. They’d been naked together at the lake, true, but that was because she’d been bathing. She had not considered the possibility that she’d have to completely undress.

  And yet…to have him cover her with his heat, and press that firm flesh against hers without the barrier of a night robe, well…

  She drew a shuddering breath, aware that she was still cradling his cock within her grasp.

  “This is…this is…” she stuttered, vainly seeking the words to express her confusion and her needs.

  “I know, my sweet. And it’s only the beginning.”

  His voice was low and held promise of wild and wonderful things to come. Constance was wondering if she’d survive long enough to enjoy them.

  For the next hour, Magnus tormented her, leaning close to whisper in her ear how he was going to enjoy licking her and what places were specifically going to receive his close attention.

  Her breasts began to ache as he described how he wanted to suckle them and pull on them and maybe even bite them a little bit.

  Her heart pounded as he told her where he was going to go from there.

  He was not unaffected, she knew, because beneath her hand his cock jerked as he detailed some juicy little thing he intended to do to her. He was seeing it as clearly as she was.

  And it was the only thing she was seeing. The festivities continued unabated, the music played, people danced and laughed and ate until they were sated. But Constance saw none of it. They could have been beheading traitors or crowning a new King before her and she�
�d have been unaware.

  And all the while, Magnus appeared benevolently pleased while seated in the Lord’s chair at the main table, smiling and nodding at the revelry taking place in his Keep.

  No one could possibly guess, from looking at him, that in the shadows beneath that same table, Lady Constance Atherton was grasping his cock with a grip of iron.

  As the hours wore on, and Constance’s resistance was reduced to a sopping lump of exhausted scruples, Magnus leaned towards her again.

  She had reached the point where she wanted nothing more than to grab his head and drag it to her own, and finally begin the process of satisfying the needs he’d so successfully aroused.

  “My Lady, you may retire now. Go to your chamber, and think carefully. If you are still set on agreeing to our bargain, then come to my room in an hour. I shall be waiting.”

  Constance’s head jerked. “You’d still allow me the chance to say no?”

  His lips tightened. “Make no mistake. I’d rather you didn’t. As if you couldn’t tell…” Once again he pushed her hand along his cock, and bit back a groan as he did so. “It’s getting more difficult for me to control this…need. I’m only human after all.”

  Constance was starting to have her doubts about that last statement. Especially given the enormous erection beneath her palm. No man she’d ever known could have spent so long arousing a woman and not succumbed to the need to sate his own desires.

  “But…” He reached to her chin and pulled her face so that he was staring directly at her. “I must know that you make this choice of your own volition. By coming to my chamber you tell me that you are there because you will it. Not because I have done anything to coerce you. It must be your choice, Constance. That will free me to pleasure you. Anything else, and it would be no better than rape.”

  Constance snorted. The way she felt right now, it was a matter for discussion as to who would be raping whom.

  “Very well, my Lord. Within the hour.”

  She dragged her hand away from his cock, feeling the emptiness as she pressed it to her belly.

  It was hard to stand, her legs were weak and her thighs soaking. But she managed it, and with a polite curtsey to Magnus and a smile for Edward, Constance slipped quietly around the shadowed edges of the room and disappeared up the staircase to the Solar.

  Magnus leaned back in his chair and ignored the sweat that was trickling down his spine beneath his shirt. He’d never come so close to losing his seed in a woman’s hand.

  The heat of her palm, coupled with the erotic visions he was deliberately creating in her mind had played havoc with his own lusts. He was ready to batter down the walls of a besieged castle, and had the ram ready to do it between his legs.

  He sipped his wine carefully, knowing he’d already drunk one goblet, and not willing to sacrifice any of his pleasures to the god of the grape. And by the Saints, it would be pleasurable.

  Edward leaned over. “I’m glad to see you sent Constance to bed. She’s worked hard this day. ‘Tis to be hoped that your future bride will be appreciative of her efforts?”

  Magnus’ cock wasn’t fond of being reminded about Mistress Anne Swann, not when it was so desperate for another, and it softened slightly.

  “I’m sure,” he answered, noncommittally.

  “So you said she’s a beauty, eh lad?”

  Damn Edward. Why did he have to pick this particular moment to begin a discourse on Mistress Swann?

  “Um, yes. Blonde.”

  “Well, it sounds like you’ll breed good looking heirs on her. Good hips, has she?”

  To Magnus, whose entire focus was on getting his cock nestled into a completely different set of hips, the question was irrelevant and impossible to answer.

  “Um, yes.”

  “Good.”

  The abrupt response was lost on Magnus. He nodded and rose, knowing it was time to put an end to his own torture lest he throw his head back and howl like a wolf to the rafters of his own hall.

  “I’m turning in, Edward. Let these folks make merry as they will, but try to keep most of ‘em alive. I don’t care if they’re sober or not, pass the word, there’ll be no punishments for a late morning on the morrow.” He glanced at the now noisy crowd, which was kicking up its heels to the music in the center of the hall.

  “There’s going to be plenty of heads hurting, I’ll warrant, and many a body making a run for the latrine.”

  “But not you?” Edward’s brow lifted.

  “No. Not me. I have found that the morning after wasn’t worth the night before in most cases.”

  Edward chuckled quietly and returned Magnus’ nod, watching as the handsome Lord strode through his people to the staircase beyond and the sanctity of his own chamber.

  “So, old man. What do you think?”

  A gnarled hand fell on his shoulder, and a raspy voice muttered in his ear.

  Edward turned to see Mistress Leigh grinning at him, the torchlight winking off her one remaining tooth.

  “I think, old woman, you are up late this night.”

  “Oh bollocks, you old pall of fog. You’d put the flames out in Purgatory with that attitude.”

  Edward couldn’t suppress a laugh at her outrageous statement. “That’s as may be, but neither you nor I are getting any younger. These late nights are getting a lot harder to recover from.”

  “Hah!” She looked down her bony nose at him. “That’s because you’re an old fart, who never did know how to enjoy himself. Got to practice when you’re young for the times when you’re old.”

  “Oh, I see. And you got enough practice to be up at cock’s crow tomorrow, did you?”

  She grinned. “Oh yes. And you damn well know it. Many’s the time you were lying outside the old Lord’s door, listening, and probably jerking on your own weapon at the same time. As a matter of fact, didn’t you join us at one point?”

  Edward colored slightly, but shook his head. “That was years ago, old woman. Those fires are burnt out now.”

  She gripped his shoulder even harder. “For us, mebbe. But not for them. ‘Tis a clever move, Edward. And the right one, I think.”

  Edward stilled. Slowly he tilted his head in question.

  “Oh yes, I see what you’re up to. I’ve spent too many years watching folks come and go…” she cackled… “ often from beneath ‘em…to make a mistake like that. You’ve found the ideal woman for young Magnus. He’s just going to have to look past the end of his prick to see it.”

  Edward pursed his lips. “I’m worried about her barrenness, Mistress,” he confessed quietly.

  “Pah! That girl’s no more barren than the blacksmith’s wife. And she’s just birthed her fifth. Nothing to say a man’s seed gets the job done every time. Don’t know why she never bore a child before now, but mark my words, she’ll be with child sooner than she thinks.”

  “You believe that?” Edward allowed her to see a little of the worry that plagued him.

  “I know that.”

  Her certainty eased the doubts in Edward’s mind and his shoulders relaxed beneath Mistress Leigh’s light touch.

  “Just as I know I’ve a nice fresh pie in my larder, rhubarb and strawberries, fresh picked, and the chessboard set up next to my fireplace. What do you think about us old folk rattling our bones across the bailey for a quiet game or two?”

  Edward smiled. Too many people made the mistake of underestimating Mistress Leigh. He was not one of them.

  “Think you can keep those ugly old hands off my fine body, then, woman?” he teased.

  “Weellll,” she drawled. “It is a fine body, if a woman likes her meat stringy and gaunt. And I have no taste for dried fruit, so don’t be expecting me to finish the pie off with a lick of what’s left of your manhood…”

  Edward sighed. “Well, if all I can expect is pie and a game of chess…”

  Mistress Leigh stepped back as Edward rose. He offered her his arm in a surprisingly courtly gesture, and for a moment the fireli
ght transported them back to a time long past when she was possessed of more beauty than any woman had a right to, and he was a young and eager lad, with the urge to bed anything that wore skirts.

  “The years have been cruel, robbing us of those desires, Edward. But we’re still healthy, and a damn sight smarter than half these drunken idiots. Let’s go eat and drink, and leave the rest to God.”

  The elderly couple strolled unnoticed from the great hall, and Edward spared a brief thought for what might be happening in the private rooms of Lord Magnus.

  A chain of events had been set in motion, and Edward wasn’t ashamed to confess to himself that he had been responsible. It was now up to one beautiful and uncommonly sensual woman, and one lusty and handsome man. He devoutly hoped that both would see how perfect for each other they would be.

  But, having lived for so long and learned a hard lesson about hopes as opposed to reality, he doubted that it would be that simple.

  Chapter Eight

  Constance felt as if she was in a dream, and that she was watching someone else’s hand as it hovered over the door to Lord Magnus’ chamber. She could hear him moving within, in spite of the sounds of merriment and music that filtered up from the great hall beneath.

  Biting her lip, she leaned her forehead against the hard wood. By Saint Beatrice, she was no trembling virgin.

  Pleasures beyond imagination lay inside in this man’s embrace. She wanted to find and explore all of them, coincidentally while lying in this man’s embrace.

  So why was she hesitating?

  A small voice whispered uncomfortable suggestions to her mind. Things like the fact that she could find more than simple physical pleasure in the night to come. Things like the fact that she might find herself falling into a fatal trap, one that could be sprung by Magnus’ touch.

  One that might capture her heart.

  Sighing, she straightened. It was too late to withdraw now. She resolutely put the small voice from her, and raised her chin.

  With a firm hand, she tapped on the door.