Sword Play Read online

  He sucked in a deep breath and resolved to meet this torture with all the control and strength he possessed. And he prayed she would continue to torture him for at least a week or so.

  Growing bolder in her movements, Constance began to learn the landscape of his cock, running her tongue down the large pulsing veins and circling back up again to explore the ridges and lines of the head.

  He was harder than the walls of his Keep, and she showed no signs of losing enthusiasm for her task.

  Finally deciding that she’d used her tongue enough, she subjected him to the ultimate glorious punishment and sucked him into her mouth.

  In an enticing mixture of innocence and coyness, she slid him a glance from beneath her lashes as she lowered her lips. She pulled on his skin, tugging at his cock and sliding her mouth to and fro on him.

  He couldn’t help it. He moaned, loud and long, and hissed out his pleasure. “By the Saints, woman. Sooooo good,” he murmured.

  He felt her lips curve into a grin as she pulled on him once more, taking as much of him as she could.

  It was incredible, magnificent, and Magnus found that in this activity, at least, he was the student and she was the teacher. He’d been pleasured this way many times before, but never with such shy enthusiasm, and—his heart admitted the truth—never by Constance.

  It was different with her.

  It was nearly disastrous when her questing fingers found his balls.

  “Constance…” he groaned. “I cannot control myself much more…if you touch me there I shall spill my seed…”

  “Is it poisonous?”

  “What?”

  “Your seed. If you spill your seed when I am…um…here, and I happen to swallow some of it, will it poison me?”

  Magnus’ eyes crossed. “No. No, it’s not poisonous. Um…I…”

  “Oh good. Don’t worry about it, Magnus. It’s all part of my learning, yes?”

  By the Saints. He was going to explode in a mighty shower of cum in her mouth any second, and she wanted to discuss lessons.

  Her fingers played gently with his sac, tumbling his balls around like fine jewels and stroking them as they pulled tighter beneath her touch.

  Her mouth returned to his cock, working it enthusiastically now that she had realized his pleasure in her actions.

  He closed his eyes, saw stars, and opened them again, lost in the vision of Constance’s lips and his cock, meeting, plunging, disappearing and sliding out again, sheening with wetness from her mouth.

  It was the most erotic thing he could remember, and when she allowed her hair to fall between his legs and slip around his balls and his upper thighs he was lost.

  “Constance…” he warned, hands fisting in the bedclothes.

  “Mmmm…” she answered, moving faster, and taking him almost to the back of her throat.

  “Constance…” he whispered.

  It was too late. His spine was hit by a bolt of lightning, and his buttocks clenched as the spasms came upon him.

  With a shout, his hips thrust up, deep into her mouth, and his cock spewed his seed in seemingly endless spurts.

  His vision blanked out and he was lost in a whirl of hot wetness, his world narrowed down to one woman’s mouth.

  His heart stopped, his breathing froze, and he emptied everything he had, everything he was, into Constance’s willing throat.

  He could feel her tongue move as she swallowed and it was even more stimulating, taking him to the brink of unconsciousness.

  Finally, he ran dry.

  Although Constance gave him a couple of extra suckles, just to be sure. She licked all the way around his softening cock, and delicately cleaned the small slit which was probably as exhausted as its owner.

  Magnus wondered if he dared open his eyes. He would probably find that he’d died and was even now in Heaven.

  A husky chuckle reassured him and he slowly raised one eyelid.

  “That was fun.”

  *~~*~~*

  Constance remembered her comment as she leaned against the embrasure in her Solar several days later.

  Fun hadn’t begun to describe half of what they did together when darkness fell and the Keep retired for the night.

  It was as if the click of the locks on their chamber doors shut out the rest of the world, and freed them to be as sexual and as sensual as they wanted. They were set free to enjoy each other.

  Constance had learned the pleasure of so many variations of lovemaking. Just last night, they’d knelt before a roaring blaze and she trembled as she recalled the heat of the fire on her back and the heat that was Magnus on her front.

  Face to face, they’d pressed together, his cock nestled into her belly, her breasts squashed against the rough planes of his chest. They’d rubbed against each other like cats, his chest hair abrading her nipples to the point of pain, and she’d slid her hands between them and pulled his cock tight to her flesh so that her body served to arouse it even further.

  He’d slid his hands to the vee of her thighs and plunged within, and for long moments they’d pleasured each other with abandon.

  She had crumpled first, tossing back her head and crying out as the spasms took her.

  He’d followed, spurting his seed over her body and bathing her in his juices.

  They’d collapsed, sticky and exhausted, onto the tightly woven wool rug before the fireplace.

  It was incredible, wonderful, ecstatic, and all those other things that were so casually used to describe moments of extreme pleasure.

  During the day, they both worked hard, he turning his hand to whatever needed to be done around the Keep, and she never knew if he’d be sore from working the anvil with the blacksmith, or stiff from sitting with Edward and going over the account ledgers.

  For her part, Constance was determined to make Ravynne’s Keep as beautiful as possible.

  She’d already worked her magic on the great hall, adding colorful hangings she’d found stored away in the Keep’s tower rooms, cleaning the grime of years from the high rafters, and encouraging the carpenters to add decorations and carvings to the now glowing corbels that supported the high ceiling.

  The floor had been scrubbed and a good supply of fresh rushes had been laid in, so that every day would begin with a hall that smelled of lavender and new grass instead of leavings from the dogs and the previous night’s repast.

  Constance had moved on to the upper chambers, ousting Magnus from his rooms as she had the floors sandstoned down to a soft glow, and the walls cleaned and covered with more hangings.

  There was an air of enthusiasm about the Keep, with everyone busily assigned to their tasks.

  The weavers were hard at work spinning wool for new fabrics, the lambs had been born and were in need of constant protection from marauding wolves, and the days sped past for Constance in a blur of activity and passion.

  And it was of the passion that she was thinking as she glanced from her window to see Magnus in the bailey saddling two horses. One was hers.

  A polite scratch on the door yielded a smiling lad with a message for her.

  “Lord Magnus asks ye come with him, Lady. He’s some kind of ride planned for ye. To the orchards, mebbe…”

  The imp grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

  Her heart leaped at the thought of being alone with Magnus, even if just for an hour or so, and it would be good to get out of the Keep for a short while and leave her duties behind.

  A little cloud rose within her heart as she tried to repress the memory that all this was for the benefit of another woman. Magnus’ future bride.

  Putting that thought firmly behind her, she grabbed her cloak and hurried from the Solar. It was her avowed intent to seize every moment of joy she could before she was forced to say farewell to Ravynne’s Keep.

  Her steps slowed as she neared the great hall.

  Light was pouring in from the clean upper windows, and shining from the polished beams.

  The
carpenters had outdone themselves, not only with the interior carving, but also with the elegant new chairs that were starting to appear around the huge trestle table.

  She’d set one young maid to gathering flowers each morning and making sure that there was a small bowl full of them on that table every day. It was a small thing, but it added a touch of warmth and elegance, and she’d noticed Magnus’ smile as he’d passed by.

  In truth, she knew it was his approval she sought in every improvement she made.

  She honestly cared not one whit for any future mistress or bride, or whoever might take control of her domain.

  It was all for Magnus.

  He seemed as caught up in the endeavors as she was, complimenting her on her work and occasionally dropping a spray of flowers on her bare breasts as they lay together at night, as a surprise and a gesture that warmed her soul.

  She faced the fact that she was now entertaining feelings for this man that went far beyond affection and sexual interest. She was no longer learning about sensuality and the act of intercourse from him.

  She was learning how to love.

  As she crossed the great hall and saw him outside in the sunshine, her heart thumped wildly and she put her hands against her breast to calm it.

  He could never be hers. She would do her best to give him all she could, and bring him pleasure and a Keep to be proud of.

  In exchange he would give her memories that would last a lifetime, images that she would transfer to her tapestry, and a taste of what life could have been like under different circumstances.

  It would have to do.

  But it would leave a big aching hole in her soul when she had to leave.

  Chapter Ten

  Magnus raised his eyes to the sky and breathed in the scent of the approaching summer. There was not a cloud to be seen, and his heart felt as light as the butterflies that were investigating the flowers blooming around Mistress Leigh’s windows.

  The old crone had cornered him earlier and pressed a small vial of liquid into his hand. “Here, lad. You might find a use for this.”

  He’d looked cautiously at the golden fluid inside and taken a sniff. “Smells like herbs…”

  “Aye. And oils. A little mixture of my own that will grease your way into pleasure.” She’d cackled and nudged him with her bony elbow. “An old recipe that I’ve found to be of help from time to time. Keeps that portcullis slippery and gets you into the secrets of the Keep.”

  He’d nearly blushed. Mistress Leigh was nothing if not outspoken.

  Whether anyone else at the Keep was aware that he was enjoying Lady Constance on a regular basis, he knew not. Nor, at this point, did he care. She was still welcomed, and treated with respect, the tenants and servants alike deferring to her opinions and seeking her out on a regular basis.

  It pleased him that she was receiving such deference, because heaven knew she was working hard enough to deserve it.

  His rooms glowed, his great hall was a joy to enter, and the Lady herself? Well, she was a joy to enter too.

  Magnus couldn’t remember a time when he’d been happier.

  And there she was. Descending the steps towards him with a smile on her face and a light veil covering that glorious hair of hers.

  With the knowledge of that little vial tucked in his saddlebags along with the victuals he’d swiped from his grinning cook, he planned a little restorative outing into the sunshine with this woman, and a little restorative fucking outdoors for their pleasure.

  He smiled, and willed patience downwards to his groin where his cock was responding as it always did when seeing Lady Constance.

  “Good morrow, Lord Magnus. We are going riding?”

  He snickered. “Indeed Lady. If your duties can spare you for an hour or two, I thought we might venture to the orchards on this glorious day. The blossoms are out, and it’s worth a visit.”

  “Indeed, my Lord. It would be most pleasurable.”

  My Lady, you have no idea!

  He assisted her into her saddle and tucked her cloak behind her. The sun was warm, the ride less than an hour, and it was unlikely that she’d need it. Unless it was to lie upon, of course.

  He quickly mounted his own horse, lest his cock make the journey a nightmare.

  Nodding at the stable boys, they gathered their reins and set off, hooves clanking past the portcullis and across the drawbridge, out into the fields beyond the Keep. They kept their conversation light and casual, Magnus directing her attention to the well-kept fields, sprouting green now with the growing things that would provide a healthy harvest in the fall and sustenance for the Keep during the winter.

  He refused to acknowledge that she might not be here to share it. Today was just for them.

  The scent of the apple orchards reached them a full ten minutes before they arrived. The white blossoms covered the branches, weighing them down, and bees buzzed furiously throughout the trees, doing their job and ensuring a good crop of apples in the autumn.

  Magnus took the lead along a narrow path between two rows of trees and led her to the end, where the apple trees yielded to more general forest growth and the shade covered their heads.

  A short way further on was a sheltered grove, almost hidden by tall rhododendrons just coming into bloom.

  Life was exploding all around them, and Magnus felt his heart was in a similar state as he looked across at Constance, whose mouth was agape as she stared around her at the beauty of it all.

  “Sweet Saint Beatrice, Magnus. It’s incredible, isn’t it?”

  He reined in his horse and slid from the saddle, leading his mount to a small clearing and tethering it to a convenient branch.

  Within seconds, Constance was beside him, slipping from her own palfrey with carefree abandon and laughing as her horse bumped her with its nose.

  He tugged her hand, and with his saddlebag in the other led her into the grove and the soft silence of their forest privacy.

  Constance found her heart beating faster as she followed him.

  She watched as he casually dropped his bundles onto the grass and turned to her. “Come here.”

  She obeyed with alacrity, wanting to be in his arms as much as he evidently wanted her. His lips were on hers before she could gasp another breath.

  They plunged and sought and demanded she return their passion, which she did—tenfold. She let her tongue tell him of her desire for him, and her hands slipped around his neck to find his hair and encourage him to take more liberties.

  He backed her up, pushing her until the bark of a tree grazed her skirts and put a halt to her movements.

  “Now, Constance, I need to have you now,” he muttered, sucking her earlobe into his mouth and finding her breasts with his callused fingers.

  “Yes,” she whispered, automatically widening her stance and making room for the cock that was distending the front of his breeches.

  It was the work of a moment for him to free himself and scoop her skirts up to her waist.

  His strong hands gripped her waist and before she realized quite what he was going to do, he had lifted her clean off her feet, thrust his cock between her thighs and lowered her onto his hardness.

  A great sigh burst from his lungs, matching the breath that she’d drawn as she felt him slide deeply into her welcoming heat.

  One look at him and she was wet and ready, and this morning’s ride had done nothing to change that. Oh how she wanted him. Wanted this. Needed this.

  Her eyes remained fixed on his, blue sparks shooting wildly as he moved against her, abrading her, rubbing her, touching her in all those places that served to ignite her body and set fire to her soul.

  She raised her leg and trapped his thigh with hers, pulling him even further into her.

  A drop of sweat formed on his forehead and traced its way down his face as he thrust into her, pounding, plundering, giving her such pleasure she thought, as always, she’d be like to die from it.

  Her buttocks tightened and her
body trembled.

  With a groan of release, Magnus came, filling her with his hot seed and starting her own climax. She locked tight around him then spasmed, sending flames of boiling heat throughout her body.

  She cried out and pressed herself to his hardness as tightly as she could. It was as if they had become one at that moment.

  She shivered as the sensations eased, leaving her breathless and weak.

  A slow smile played around Magnus’ lips. “You are a witch, Constance. I vow I cannot look at you without thinking of this…” He thrust gently against her. “Of how it feels to be buried to my balls inside your heat. Truly you have put a spell on me. I’m as randy as a lad, and as hard as the blacksmith’s hammer almost all the time, and even when I have you, I want more…”

  “I know,” she answered. “I look at you and my thighs shake, my body weeps tears of desire because it is missing this…hardness, this tenon to my mortice…”

  He laughed and eased her down, sliding from her body with a soft plop. “You’ve been with our carpenters too long, love,” he said, shedding his clothes without embarrassment. “Come, let’s explore. And you may leave your kirtle here. There’s none to see us now.”

  Awkwardly, Constance stripped. She was not used to being naked in the daylight, but the glow in Magnus’ eyes gave her courage to drop her skirts and unpin her veil.

  His hands went to her hair, but she pulled back a little. “Magnus, no. Not this time. We must return at some point, and I’ll never get it back up if you pull it out of its coil.”

  He sighed. “Well, if I must make do without your hair, I’ll have to pay extra special attention to other places.” His hand stroked her buttocks and caressed her cleft.

  She trembled and her nipples hardened. “Magnus…” she said, a question in her voice.

  He grinned. “There’s a little brook over there. Let’s take a quick dip. The water should be warmed by now and the sun will dry us.”