
A Gift of Gold
Ann Jacobs
Summerfield Castle, Christmastide 1177
Set on a ridge overlooking the North Sea, Summerfield Castle's gray stone towers reflected the noonday sun, giving off a silvery glow. A welcoming glow indeed for the deVere men who shivered in their armor this December day. Earl Rolfe spurred his destrier, and soon he, Will and Gavin had outpaced the troop of knights and men-at-arms. The others could take their time, guard the wagons and siege engines they'd used to quell yet another rebellion in the midlands.
No doubt they all yearned for the comfort of home, too...anticipated the pleasures that awaited them. Especially Gavin. For him this would be the last time he'd return to the castle where he was born and call it home.
As his father had done twenty-two years earlier, Gavin would wed with a great heiress and become master of her holdings. The wedding would take place ten days hence, at Summerfield, as part of the Christmas celebration. When he swung out of the saddle onto the ground of the frozen bailey, Gavin tried to tell himself 'twas time. That all would end well so long as he had land and titles to pass to his own son when he became a man. He even attempted to dredge up a bit of enthusiasm toward his betrothed, Lady Evelyn fitzSimmons, whom he'd soon meet for the first time.
A more sharp-tongued lady you'd be hard-pressed to find. Sends the servants a-runnin' for cover when something's not just right. Haughty, like nobody but her has more than a pisspot for a brain. She's a fondness for the table, too...plump as a Christmas goose. Mayhaps barren. Mayhaps not although she gave her husband no bairns, for he was old and battle-worn. The words of the jongleur who supposedly had met the Lady Evelyn in her castle---soon to be his, Gavin reminded himself---sent another shiver clean to his balls as he dismounted and handed the reins of his snow-white destrier to a waiting serf.
That jongleur had also mentioned that Castle fitzSimmons, his betrothed's main holding, possessed high round towers. Three of them. If he found his bride too repulsive, he could confine her to one of them as soon as he got an heir on her. The way Gavin felt today after three long months of fighting, he'd have no trouble dredging up the necessary enthusiasm to fuck any female on two legs, no matter how distasteful she might prove to be.
When they passed over the drawbridge, Gavin noted a lighter than usual number of men at arms along the wall and wondered briefly which of their northern neighbors might be causing havoc along the border. No matter. Had it been a serious problem that required dealing with, a messenger would have galloped to their train to enlist their aid.
'Twas past time for him to enjoy the comforts of home, the gaiety of the season. Putting his worries out of his mind, Gavin mounted the stone stairs and made for the great hall, with Will and their lord father at his heels. Mayhap he and Will would share a wench or two, as had been their habit for seven years now.
Gavin recalled that first encounter, when they'd first learned some things were more fun when shared. The accommodating milkmaid they'd encountered in the barn at Harrow ere going to the castle to enjoy their fourteenth birthday celebration had apparently thought so, too, despite the clumsiness of two boys with no finesse and no staying power. At least she'd come back for more. Many times over. By the time they'd finished their fostering, the sassy little whore had given them as much training in pleasuring women as Uncle Giles had provided in the use of weapons and strategy for battle.
Back home, they'd honed the art of seduction, learned it added to the excitement when they added toys and erotic games into the mix. Gavin's cock stirred when he recalled the way one adventuresome kitchen maid had creamed herself when they stripped her naked and tied her to the cross-shaped beam they kept in their chamber to hang their plate armor. They took her in tandem, Will's cock in her cunt and his in her tight, hot ass, while she whimpered and moaned and begged for more.
Excitement hung in the air. Proud of his battle-hardened physique, Gavin flexed his muscles against the warm steel rings of his chain mail. He reckoned there was some of the boy left in him, for he yearned for home and family, merriment, and the sorts of ribald amusements that always made his lady mother shake her head. Debauchery ran ever rampant at Summerfield Castle, but especially during the Christmas season. His cock grew harder as he anticipated dipping it into the sweet, hot cunts of one or two willing wenches.
The hall smelled of precious spices and roasting meat. A huge fire crackled in the fireplace that would soon hold the massive Yule log they'd cut last spring. Flickering beeswax candles cast shadows on walls bleached to a grayish white, illuminating tapestries that bespoke the triumphs and tragedies the earls of Summerfield had seen over the years. Gavin would never tire of hearing the tales depicted in scenes of the Holy Land---settings his father had described. Exotic places Lord Rolfe had seen when serving as his brother's squire on the crusade that nearly cost him his life. Gavin inhaled deeply, took in the heady fragrance of the spruce boughs and pomander balls that decorated the hall.
"Jasmine!" Lord Rolfe shouted from the base of the winding stair to the north tower. Gavin knew his father had gained politically by wedding with his mother, but 'twas obvious to all that the countess had fired his sire's blood. Damn, from the hot, needy look he saw in his father's eyes, Gavin doubted not that the fire still burned, hardly banked at all in the twenty-two years since they'd wed.
Lady Jasmine ran down the stairs, flinging herself into his father's arms as soon as he'd laid his helm and gauntlets on a long, narrow table by the stairs. Lord Rolfe lifted her, swung her around in circles. "'Tis good to be home once more. You told me not of any trouble along Summerfield's borders in your last message, my love."
"Reivers. Clan MacFarlane from the look of their plaids, said the serf who brought the news. I sent a party out to chase them back over the border." Lady Jasmine laid a hand on Lord Rolfe's mail-clad chest.
Gavin would have liked naught better than running the wily Scots laird through with his broadsword and consigning him to hell for all the trouble he caused---but damn! Not now. His ass ached from the long ride, his throat was parched for lack of ale. He stank of the road, his saddle, and his destrier. He turned to his twin, resigned to riding out again, postponing the start of the yuletide celebration. "Shall we ride out and join in the rout?"
"It will not require us both. I'll go, be sure the bastards are running, tails 'tween their legs," Will said. "After all, 'tis my inheritance they plunder. Besides, you've got a wedding to prepare for."
Summerfield. His brother's legacy. Not Gavin's. And his upcoming wedding to a widow he'd not laid eyes on. Not very cheering thoughts though they all were true. "If you do not mind, I'll stay. My arse is saddle-weary, and you're right. My sword won't be needed to vanquish no more than a few bloodthirsty clansmen. I'm for a bath, some wine, and a warm wench---not necessarily in that order."
\*
The lord's solar smelled of fresh evergreens and precious incense brought at great cost from the East. Earl Rolfe deVere lay back in his tub later that evening, sipping mulled wine whilst his lady wife rubbed away the grime of battle from his naked body.
"'Tis good we will all be together this holy season," Lady Jasmine murmured, her soft hands stroking Rolfe's chest before reaching under the water and squeezing his fast-awakening cock. 'Twas a miracle that after twenty-two years, his lady still could arouse him with the simplest of touches. "I want you to name Gavin Lord of Misrule."
The younger of their twin sons held a special spot in Jasmine's heart---his, too. Still Rolfe had to laugh. "That honor should go to one of the serfs, sweeting."
"'Twill be the only way Gavin will ever rule Summerfield."
"I know. And I'm aware the law of primogeniture rankles you. But take heart. Gavin surely won't have to earn his way by hiring out his sword. I've already gifted him with a king's ransom in gold and jewels, he's betrothed to the fitzSimmons heiress, and I'm certain he'll win more titles and estates by force of arms, as Giles and I both have. Even now he and Will plan a fierce campaign against Laird MacFarlane, and I expect that one day soon they'll rout the clansmen clear back to the highlands from whence they came. They'd best, ere that wily Scot makes off with all my livestock. When they do, I shall ask Henry to grant the MacFarlane lands to Gavin, though I know not whether he will. 'Twould make the deVere family among the most powerful in all England."
Jasmine frowned as she worked the soap into a lather and scrubbed away some stubborn dirt from Rolfe's forearms. "Tell me about this prisoner Will sent word that he is bringing back."
"According to his message, some men-at-arms who were patrolling our northern border caught her on Summerfield land. A Scots lass wearing the MacFarlane plaid. I'd nay be surprised were it Laird MacFarlane's own daughter. A wild lass from all I hear. If it be she, her presence should liven the Christmas festivities. Especially for our sons who are ever searching for another pretty wench to seduce."
"Speaking of seduction, I have missed you." Jasmine's touch lightened to a caress, and though she stroked his arms, it was his cock that stiffened and throbbed. "Does your bath water grow cold?" she asked when a tremor of pure desire shot through his flesh.
"Nay. But I grow hot." Rising, Rolfe took a length of linen and began to dry himself. "Get you to bed, my lady, that I may drink of your sweet honey. 'Tis too long I've been away."
He'd never get enough of her, not if he lived a hundred years. His beautiful countess who'd brought him wealth and title, and most of all the love of a lifetime. "Have you a picture you'd like for us to re-enact this night?" He gestured toward the beautifully illustrated pillow book that had fascinated her from the moment he'd shown it to her years ago.
"Tonight I wish for you to take me as though you're starved. As though you've been without a woman since last we fucked." She lay back, her raven hair spread across the snowy bed linens, her legs spread and her cunt glistening in the light from the fire.
"Who's to say I am not starved, my beautiful lady? 'Tis true," he added when she shot him a skeptical look. "When I think of you, it destroys any passion that might rise in me for the camp followers who service my men."
Her smile warmed his heart, set his balls on fire. "I too have starved, my lord earl."
"Then let us feast together." Tossing aside the drying cloth, Rolfe joined Jasmine on their massive bed and straddled her, offering his cock for her to feast upon as he buried his face between her shapely thighs.
Her whimpers, and the copious flow of hot, sweet juices from her cunt attested to her need---a need Rolfe was determined to slake as he flailed her clit with his tongue. When she closed her lips around him, his cock swelled to near bursting against the heavy ring in its head, and his nipples tightened against the small gold rings that had adorned them for nearly thirty years. The tiny sounds she made as she suckled him made this encounter incredibly erotic...incredibly arousing.
Tonight he felt not one moment older than he had when he'd first taken the maiden he called Jasmine to his bed, nor one bit less grateful that God had sent him a fallen angel without a memory to tutor in all the arts of love. Her clit hardened and swelled when he tongued her there, and when he slid a finger into her cunt and found her wet and ready, he had to caution himself to make the moment last.
She felt tight. So tight he'd not have believed she'd borne him four sturdy sons if he'd not watched each of them emerge from her slender body. And God's bones but her cunt fit his cock like a glove, hot and slippery and schooled over the years in pleasure with the ben-wa balls she wore each day as she directed the castle servants.
Her anus drew his attention, made him remember their wedding night---and the eunuch Arnaud who had initiated that part of his bride's lush body to the pleasures of the flesh. Mayhaps---nay, though Arnaud would be arriving with Giles, Brianna, and their children to celebrate Gavin's marriage, Rolfe had not been able to curb his possessive streak sufficiently to ask again for the use of the big, docile creature who'd guarded his sister-in-law's virtue since her marriage to his elder brother.
With gentle fingers Rolfe invaded Jasmine's rear passage as he used his tongue to fuck her cunt. When she stopped stroking his ass cheeks and slid her hands between them to cup his tight, aching balls, he could waste no more time on the niceties of arousing her. If he did not take her now, he knew he'd fill her mouth with burst after burst of his pent-up seed.
"Stop, my Jasmine," he ground out, turning and positioning his cock at the dripping entrance to her cunt. "I'd come inside you, where my seed may yet take root."
"You'd still give me a daughter, would you not?" Her smoky eyes shining, Jasmine framed his face in her hands as she lifted her hips to meet his initial thrust. "'Tis to my shame that we've not been blessed again."
"Hush. I told you, sweeting, ere we were wed, that deVere men throw sons. 'Tis not your fault we've not been blessed with a tiny lass. And I'd as soon not risk you again in the effort."
"What will be, will be. Oh, my love, you fill me so completely. How I've missed you, missed this." She gasped when he sank into her to his balls, finding along the way that spot that always produced an instant climax. He braced himself for the hard, quick contractions of her spasming flesh, held steady as she came, then started to thrust again.
He'd make her come for him again. This time he stroked the silken flesh of her throat, her beautiful breasts. Sucked upon the nipples that had fed his sons. He murmured words of sex and love and the lasting devotion with which she'd blessed him over the years.
When she screamed again with the force of the pleasure he gave her, he let go of his iron control and buried his cock deep. So deep he could hardly feel where he ended and she began as he spurted out his seed deep within his Jasmine's beautiful beloved body.
"On the morrow, I'll name Gavin Lord of Misrule," he told her later as they lay spoonlike beneath the soft, warm sable furs that made their blanket. "I cannot deny my Jasmine anything her heart desires---except her little girl. And a love match for the son of her heart."
\*
A love match. Lady Evelyn fitzSimmons paced her tower room at Summerfield, coveting the painfully obvious mutual emotions she'd seen passing between her betrothed husband's handsome parents.
Not that she'd seen them from any less distance than she'd glimpsed Sir Gavin, soon to become her bridegroom. Upon her arrival at Summerfield yesterday, she'd begged Lady Jasmine not to reveal her presence, to allow her to remain in the guest tower alone to contemplate her upcoming wedding. Evelyn glanced down at her ample curves and tried not to envy her future mother-in-law's lithe, slender body.
No way could she, with her love for good food and fine wine, starve off enough flesh in five short days to compare with Lady Jasmine...not that she'd do it if she could. Not even for Sir Gavin, with his great height, powerful body, and a face that would do justice to a dark angel. Evelyn reminded herself her betrothed was wedding with her for her estates, not because he loved her or even desired her person.
She shouldn't mind that. After all, she'd wed with the elderly and bellicose Baron fitzSimmons four years earlier for the wealth and position he'd offered. As she'd done then, her betrothed could always visualize the land and castles that came with her if looking at her made him regret his decision.
But what if Gavin couldn't stomach the thought of bedding her? Unlike women, men had to summon a measure of passion ere they could perform in the marriage bed. While she'd found some, like her late husband, who'd appreciated her ample curves, she'd come across a good many potential suitors who'd run at the thought of bedding a woman whose waist they couldn't span with their two hands. Handsome, virile men like the one she was about to wed.
You're naught but the veriest coward, Evelyn. Otherwise you'd not be cowering in the shadows, keeping your presence secret from Sir Gavin and the castle folk. Though she chided herself for a fool, Evelyn had stayed glued to the peephole in the tower's thick stone wall, afraid to face her betrothed and mayhaps see revulsion spreading across his angel face.
"My lady?" The maid set a brimming tray of food on the table by the single window.
Obviously Cook had gotten word from someone---probably the serving girls who'd been setting the high table when Evelyn had arrived---of her generous proportions, and assumed she possessed a healthy appetite. By Evelyn's quick calculation, the wench had brought enough meat, cheese, bread and wine to serve the entire high table. She fought down feelings of resentment that had naught to do with the slender maid who'd inadvertently caused those sour emotions to surface.
Evelyn made herself smile at the housemaid who apparently intended to stay and help her ready herself for bed. "What's your name, girl?"
"Mavis, m'lady. I'd help you with yer clothes if I may, so's I can answer m'lord Gavin's summons. He doesn't like having to wait." The wench's knowing grin hinted her purpose with Evelyn's intended would be more pleasurable than merely assisting him at his bath.
An idea began to form. What if... "Mavis, do you think I might take your place? My lord Gavin knows me not. I'd---"
"Fuck 'im, m'lady? For that's what he's summoned me to do. He's asked for two, though. I suppose ye could disguise yerself and take Henny's place."
"Two?" She'd heard of the debauchery that went on with the young lords and knights at Summerfield, but she'd not believed until now that it went so far. Still...the idea of deceiving Gavin intrigued her. 'Twas a way, though a dangerous one, to learn whether he found her curves appealing---or appalling. "I'll do it, but I want him to believe I'm a servant girl."
It would serve her satyr of a future husband right to fuck her, not knowing he'd be doing it nightly soon enough. And he wouldn't be able to help feeling at least a bit abashed once he learned the real identity of the strange woman he'd plowed just days before taking marriage vows with her.
Mavis gave her a critical once-over. "Ye'll need clothes. And ye'd better not talk like the fine lady you are. Wait. I'll borrow a gown from Cook. She be about yer size."
Her ego stung a bit by Mavis's last remark, Evelyn stripped down to her plain white linen shift. Excitement won out over the sense of uneasiness that lingered in the back of her mind. "By God, I'll test out the bonny lad I'm weddin' and he'll be none the wiser."
While Evelyn twirled about, getting into the role of a wanton serving girl and testing the manner of speaking she'd use, Mavis returned with a drab blue garment.
It smelled like grease from the cooking fire and felt like grit against skin used to velvets and satin. Evelyn wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her disguise had better work to make wearing this rag worthwhile.
As they went downstairs, crossed the great hall, and ascended a steep curving stairway to another of Summerville's crenellated towers, Evelyn silently laughed at the prospect of putting one over on her lascivious future husband.
"Let's tell him yer name's Evie, m'lady. Yer name be pretty, but it'd never belong to a serving wench."
Evelyn laughed out loud. "Fine. Evie it is, but ye'd best not be callin' me m'lady unless ye want to spoil his surprise."
In the north tower, Sir Gavin paced naked across the cold stone floor. Where were the wenches he'd summoned to come relieve him? Damn it, he'd had this raging hard-on since leaving his Uncle Giles's castle a week earlier. Shivering, he tossed another log onto the fireplace grate. The warmth slowly curled around him, almost like his absent lovers should be doing in yonder bed.
Gavin's stone-hard cock twitched, reminding him of the wenches. He'd demanded a pair out of habit, even though he doubted Will would return in time to join in the fun. Gavin considered inviting his other brothers, eleven-year-old Alfred and thirteen-year-old Henry, who'd come home from fostering for the holidays, to take part in the debauchery, but he quickly discarded that idea. His lady mother would box his ears, much like she'd boxed them years ago when he and Will had enticed two serf girls to their beds to celebrate their twelfth birthday with some mutual bodily explorations. As he recalled, the whipping he'd been administered had caused far more pain to his ass than the wenches had provided him in pleasure.
Oh well, he was hard enough to service them both and ask for more. Where were they anyhow?
"M'lord?" The dark-eyed girl who suddenly appeared in the open doorway to the solar was young and pretty. Mavis, if he recalled her name correctly from their last encounter. Though Mavis was eminently fuckable, it was her companion who made Gavin's heart beat faster. Her flaxen hair flowed loose to her generous hips, and her ripe breasts heaved---whether with anticipation or fear, he could not say.
Plump as a Christmas goose, she was. Anxious to get on with the fucking, too, if her haste to cast off the filthy servant's gown was an indication of her ardor, and not merely a perfectly understandable desire to be free from the pervasive smell of roasting meat that clung to the ugly garment.
It mattered not if she weren't already slick and wet. She'd get hot for him soon enough. He'd stay by the fire, keep his ass warm while the chill air made his lovers' nipples pucker and drew goose bumps on their naked skin. "Both of you. Disrobe and come to me."
He imagined the one wench's pale hair wrapped around his cock, warming his balls. Trailing over his thighs and ass while she sucked him dry...while he tongue-fucked the tiny brunette and introduced her to a cock she'd not yet seen. The ruby-red blown glass dildo had caused almost as much of a furor among the jades at King Henry's court as his and Will's distinctively pierced rods.
First he wanted to sample the plump wench's quivering breasts. They'd more than fill his large hands, and their rosy puckered nipples tempted him mightily when she lifted off her shift. He longed to swirl his tongue over a small blood-red birthmark he spied just below the nipple of her left breast. Rising, he smiled at her when her huge china-blue eyes opened wide and her mouth formed a sensual "O" at the sight of his pierced, heavily jeweled cock.
"Gawd, somebody whacked off yer foreskin and stuck pins through yer knob!"
"You didn't know? There's hardly a soul on the marches who's not heard of the deVere cocks. Come, take a closer look." Ere dawn broke, the buxom beauty would have examined in minute detail the rod that apparently caused her such consternation. Gavin's balls tightened painfully as he looked at her soft, soft skin. The saucy twin moons of her well-padded ass. He cursed the pale gold curtain of hair that hid her features while she knelt and took his seed sac in her dainty hands, even as he longed to bury his face in the fragrant, silky strands.
"Must be a king's fortune just in this big gold ring." Lubrication seeped from his slit when she rotated the heavy ring that pierced his cockhead, and when she tugged gently on one of the gold studs that ringed his corona, he moaned. God's blood, but she had a magic touch. "Mavis, ye didn't tell me we'd be fuckin' a prick full of precious metals."
It suddenly struck Gavin that he couldn't recall having seen this angel who was quickly setting his blood a-boiling. He wouldn't have missed her, if she'd been about the castle while he was home. Ever mindful as he was of the earl's enemies using whatever means they could to get at members of his family, Gavin asked sharply, "What's your name, girl?" Though her speech marked her a villein, he didn't often see a serf so obviously well-fed. Or one with such soft, velvety hands and shining hair.
She stood, met his gaze with a degree of self-possession unusual in a servant. "Evie, m'lord. I come from the village."
"Well, Evie, you've a sassy mouth. I suggest you use it to pleasure me. " Ironic, this smart-mouthed woman bore a variation of the same Christian name as Lady Evelyn fitzSimmons, his betrothed. "Come closer, Mavis. I'd pleasure you, too."
Evie's pale hair formed a gleaming blanket about her upper body when she knelt again at Gavin's feet and took his cockhead between her soft, moist lips. The silky strands brushed his thighs and tickled the tender flesh of his scrotum while he fondled Mavis's small, pert breasts.
'Twas all Evelyn could do to resist chomping her betrothed's huge, jeweled sword. Be damned if she'd share him with the serving girls once she was his wife!
"Ah, Mavis, my sweet. You taste as good as ever!"
"'Tis always a treat whenever you call me, m'lord Gavin."
"You, Evie girl. Take a bit more of my cock. Suck it harder, would you?"
She'd suck him harder, all right. She opened wider, lowered her mouth on him until the ring in the end of his cockhead tickled her throat. And deliberately let her teeth graze the bejeweled ridge of his corona."
"Ow. Easy there, or you'll bite it off."
If only...but no, 'twas her own pleasure tool she'd be destroying if she followed the impish voice inside her head. Her tool. On their wedding night she'd lock it away...and set it free only when she wanted satisfaction!
Still it rankled. It was Mavis getting the benefit of her betrothed husband's hands and mouth. Mavis whose passion he was arousing whilst she, Evie, set his own blood a-boiling. Deliberately she dug her nails into the muscular flesh of his buttocks as she sucked his cock with feigned enthusiasm.
"Ah, Will, I assume you routed the MacFarlane clansmen ere they paupered us all. Come on, join in the fun."
God in heaven, Lord William must have just walked in on them. Evelyn dug her nails in harder, clamped her lips down harder on Gavin's swollen cock. Unsure whether to flee---not likely possible, she imagined---or stay and take part in a fuckfest that involved not only her betrothed but his older twin brother, she hesitated.
A moment too long, it appeared, for she felt chilled skin against her back and a pair of cold hands plucking at her nipples. Hot sweet breath prickled the skin on the sensitive nape of her neck as soon as another pair of hands---Gavin's hands---swept her hair over her shoulder.
"Who is this delectable wench?" Like Gavin's, Will's voice was deep and sensual, the voice of a skilled lover. When he nibbled at her exposed earlobe, he made her shiver.
"Here, Will. Meet Evie. She'll warm you quickly enough, I'll warrant. Oh, yes, Evie girl. Suck me dry. Make me forget that ere a sennight passes I'll be a married man."
A married man who'd ne'er again fuck a serving girl. Evelyn redoubled her efforts as Gavin's brother tugged her nipples and nudged her weeping cunt with his own fine blade. How would Gavin feel when he learned he'd given his bride to his own brother?
'Twas an arousing thought...an arousing situation. God's blood, how hers boiled when Gavin tossed the furs from the bed onto the floor, lay down before the fire, and drew her lips back to his cock---while Will spread her legs and knelt behind her, rubbing his pulsating sword along her wet slit, in the creases where her thighs and body met. She wanted to rear back, take his cock into her body when it nudged the dripping entrance to her cunt...the sensitive tissue around her anus.
Vaguely Evelyn's mind registered that Mavis sat squarely on Gavin's face, and that he was using his tongue to lap the servant's well-used cunt while tugging Evelyn's own nipples between his callused thumbs and forefingers. The delicious sensation of fullness dispelled any jealousy...anger. For she had them both. Her betrothed and his brother. The slightly salty taste of the slick juices that seeped around the ring in Gavin's cock tickled her tongue while his brother's love tool primed her quim, spread her honey along her slit, over the puckered entrance to her rear passage.
The sensual assault made her crazy with wanting more. Wanting them both. Evelyn's excitement bubbled as she imagined how 'twould feel...one identical twin's cock plowing her cunt, the other invading her ass. "Ohhhh," she murmured around the turgid flesh stretching her lips when something hard and cold slid past the weeping lips of her quim and lodged in her cunt. Not a cock...what?
Whatever it was it heated quickly, set her cunt afire when she contracted her inner muscles around the smooth, hard object. It slid in and out, stoking the flames, making her suck harder on the cock in her mouth as though that would entice the other cock to fill her empty, aching ass. The virgin hole Mavis had warned her to prepare. To stretch as she'd once stretched her cunt for Baron fitzSimmons whose tool had been whispered to be immense.
The glass phallus she'd used was a puny toy compared with the throbbing cock that now pulsated in her mouth.
Anticipation built as Gavin used his rough, callused hands to pinch her nipples, tug on them. Gavin rocked back and forth, making her take his cock deeper down her throat with each leisurely thrust. She swallowed, wanting more of that long, hot shaft while she kneaded his seed sac ever so gently, feeling the twin orbs within shift against her seeking fingers.
Lord William's hot cock between her thighs probed her puckered rear passage. Slippery with her own honey, it sought entrance. Will's callused palms rasped against her tender flesh as he squeezed her buttocks, spreading the plump, moist cheeks for his cock.
"You want her cunt or her ass, Gavin?" he asked as though offering the breast or a leg of a roast duck on his trencher. "Our father tells me you're Lord of Misrule, so you rightfully deserve first choice."
"I want her cunt." Gavin's reply was barely audible since he didn't bother to move his mouth away from Mavis's slit. Apparently Will heard it, though. Before Evelyn had time to think, he'd positioned his cock and pushed until its jeweled head popped past the tight muscle and seated itself within her ass.
Ohhhh. It hurt, yet she wanted more. Wanted Will's big cock to fill her there, her betrothed's to replace the slender object that barely filled her cunt.
Slowly. When Will buried himself deeper, the throbbing heat seared her ass. Her moans reverberated around Gavin's cock that stuffed her mouth. Sensation flooded her, made her tremble at the dual invasion even as her quim wept for more.
"Come take her cunt," Will said. "I warrant it's as tight and welcoming as her ass."
Evelyn heard a slap of flesh on flesh, and a whining protest from Mavis. Then Gavin laughed. "Up with you, Mavis. Go play with yourself whilst I fuck Mistress Evie. You may choose one of the toys from yonder box."
Every one of his bulging muscles, each inch of his golden hairless skin set Evelyn's nerve endings on fire when Gavin slid beneath her. His steaming shaft seared her belly, her mound, the tight little love button that begged for attention. Another hand---Will's, she thought---reached under her belly and retrieved the dildo from her cunt. When Will raised her, he thrust forward, burying his cock to the balls in her ass. His seed sac wedged between her ass cheeks.
It hurt. But it felt good, too. The burning, stretching sensation. The incredible heat that overtook her when Gavin's jeweled cockhead sought and found her quim, slid home.
God's blood but she'd never felt so full. So taken. The brothers' two big cocks impaled her, stretching her. Throbbing within her body, the tandem motions bounced off the thin wall of tissue that separated them. "Ohhh, melords," she whimpered, barely remembering in her passion to disguise her speech---recalling just in time that she played the role of a wanton serf girl.
"Like this, do you?" Gavin asked, flexing his hips and sliding in her cunt up to his balls while his brother slid out of her rear. God's blood. They fucked in perfect harmony. Delicious, hot sensations bubbled in her cunt. Gavin's hands kneaded her breasts, tugged at her nipples. He nipped the soft flesh at her throat, took it in his mouth and suckled. Tongued it as if to soothe the bruise he made with his teeth and lips.
The dual assault was too much. The pleasure too great. Pressure built with each rocking thrust, each brush of Gavin's hard ridged abdomen against her soft, rounded belly, every nudge of Will's against her ass cheeks. Gavin's scratchy cheek abraded her throat, her jaw. Every hard pinch of his fingers on her distended nipples dragged her closer to ecstasy. When they increased the pace, rocking her harder between their bodies and ramming their big cocks deeper into her quivering holes, she came in long, exhausting bursts.
Starbursts, blue, red, gold, purple exploded in her head as the two cocks spasmed within her body, spurting wave after wave of steaming seed into her cunt. Her ass. The heat of her orgasm mellowed into a warm glow when they lay back, one on either side of her, each holding her as though they'd not easily let her go.
Evelyn would have liked to sleep in the brothers' identical strong arms but she dared not. Untangling herself from their embraces, she admired their big hard bodies whilst she put on her gown, then gave out a sigh as she and Mavis took their leave.
'Twas God's own pity she couldn't wed them both.
'Twas the first day of Christmas. Wine flowed and all manner of sweetmeats and pies accompanied the usual bread and cheese with which the occupants of Summerfield Castle broke their fast. Two burly men-at-arms turned a spit on which a whole deer was being roasted for the coming feast. More men tended the hearths in the kitchen, where Cook presided over the preparation of the traditional boar's head, more mincemeat pies, and several swans whose roasted carcasses would be refeathered ere the evening meal began.
Named Lord of Misrule by his parents before the hunt where he'd personally skewered that unfortunate boar, Gavin lost no time once they'd returned to the hall in leading the Yuletide merriment. His first order was for his twin to bestow kisses on every lady and wench caught breakfasting in the great hall.
He laughed when Will returned to the high table, his cock tenting his tunic. "Methinks you lingered too long with the MacFarlane wench, brother. Remember her sire, and that the acorn falls not far from the tree. She's as likely to skewer you as suck your cock." Gavin leaned back in his lord father's high-backed chair and considered what mischief he'd order next.
Will laughed at the warning. "Never fear, my misguided Lord of Misrule. I'll guard my back. And my cock. Where is the plump pigeon we sandwich fucked yestereve?"
Gavin wondered that himself, until he remembered. "She said she came from the village. Mayhaps I'll visit her there ere I order the firing of the Yule log. Nay. I want not to wait that long to fuck her again." He spied the other wench, and bellowed, "Mavis! Come you to me."
The wench bowed low, giving both twins a fine view of her pert, ripe breasts. Gavin took her hand, bid her rise. "Fetch Evie to me. She stole away yestereve while we two dozed. Off with you. I'd see her ere we go to drag in the Yule log."
His lady mother shot him a look that needed no translation. She was not happy that he'd publicly singled out one of the castle sluts. She'd be less thrilled if he ordered another one to service him before one and all. When she turned back to his father, though, Gavin decided another order might serve him well. "As Lord of Misrule, I order the Earl and Countess of Summerfield to retire to their bedchamber. Methinks they need more rest this Christmas Day."
His father laughed, then stood and took Lady Jasmine's hand. "We thank you, my Lord of Misrule. I've been away too many wintry nights, and I long to pass this day with none but my lady. My people, I wish you all a Happy Christmas. We will take our leave, and join you again ere the feasting begins---with permission of Gavin, Lord of Misrule."
After waving his parents away, Gavin set the assembled knights and ladies to dancing and singing familiar carols while he waited impatiently for Evie. His time for play could end at any moment---would necessarily end with the arrival of his betrothed. While he didn't expect to care particularly for her, he'd not insult her by dallying with a peasant wench before her aristocratic nose. 'Struth, he held out a shred of hope that in Lady Evelyn he'd find the sort of love his uncle Giles had discovered with the stranger he'd been ordered by King Henry to wed.
Still, Gavin intended to make the most of his remaining freedom.
\*
"Sir Gavin said you're to come to him now, m'lady. He be Lord of Misrule and ye dare not disobey." Mavis wrung her hands. Apparently the idea that she'd be punished if she couldn't produce "Evie" petrified her.
"Surely he'd not cause you harm." Though Evelyn had heard tales of debauchery that she now knew firsthand were true, she doubted Gavin would resort to violence against those who served them---Lord of Misrule or not. "'Tis impossible that I masquerade before the entire gathering of revelers masquerading as a serving wench."
"If we dressed ye in Cook's gown---"
"Think, girl. That disguise does nothing to change my face. All who see me will know who I am if they've ever laid eyes on me before. Those who haven't will figure out quickly enough who Sir Gavin's bed wench was, when I appear as myself to say my marriage vows." Though she'd not been to King Henry's court, Evelyn had hardly been a recluse. Chances were good---excellent---that at least one of the knights and ladies celebrating Christmas and the upcoming wedding at Summerfield would recognize her no matter how she tried to disguise herself.
"God's teeth. 'Twill cause a furor of gossip. What have I done?"
Mavis scrunched up her forehead as if she were in deep thought. Finally she spoke. "Mayhaps ye should ask for yer betrothed husband to join ye here. Confess yer deception. It's for sure he's hot to fuck ye, so he might forgive ye."
And Gavin's destrier just might grow wings and fly. But Evelyn could come up with no less odious solution, however hard she tried. She began rifling through the trunk that held her wedding finery. When she found a sheer white silk gown and forest-green velvet tunic, she thrust it into the maid's trembling hands. "All right. I cannot see any alternative, though I expect he will want to throttle me. Help me dress, and then go tell Sir Gavin that the wench Evie wishes him to meet her in this tower."
"Evie wouldn't meet him dressed fit to kill, m'lady," Mavis said, a dubious expression on her face as she looked at the luxurious fabric. "She'd meet him in somethin' she knew would stiffen his rod right quick."
From Evelyn's observation of yestereve, she deduced that it took very little to make her future husband's cock stand at attention. She wasn't certain, however, that she wanted it randy and ready this morn. Mayhaps...but no. She needed to greet him with dignity, explain away her actions of the night before.
Bones of Saint Aegis, what had she done? While there was a small chance Gavin would accept her having disguised herself to meet him and learn if he desired her, only the veriest idiot would stand for her having fucked not only him but also by his twin brother while she played the role of wanton wench.
"It matters not. My only hope is that he will want my properties enough to wed with me ere he slaughters me the way you say he did the boar on this morning's hunt." Evelyn snatched the garments from Mavis's hands and yanked them over her head. "Hurry, sew the sleeves on and lace the tunic. As tightly as you can."
Why should she care how she looked? 'Twas certain Gavin would not. Still Evelyn sucked in her breath while Mavis laced the sides of the tunic, holding her arms out of the way. Knowing it to be her best feature, she left her hair uncovered, brushing the pale strands until they shone before catching it up within a jeweled snood.
"Go, Mavis. Summon my Lord of Misrule ere I lose my courage and jump from yonder window."
"M'lord of Misrule, the lady Evie begs ye meet her in the guest tower."
Saucy wench. Dared to defy the Lord of Misrule. Gavin's cock twitched. It ever liked a challenge. "Rise, Mavis, and take me wherever it is that Evie cowers. I'll not take my displeasure out on the messenger." He glanced about the hall. "Will, I cede you the duty of dragging in the Yule log. I'll return to light it ere long."
"You need not my help in taming Evie, brother?"
"Nay. We may enjoy her later, once I've tied her to my bed where she belongs."
\*
The thought that Evie had been fucking with one of his parents' noble guests irked Gavin as he followed Mavis up the winding stairs. Why, he didn't know, because 'twas obvious she was naught but a castle whore. He noticed when they reached the solar door that Evie was occupying the space he imagined his lady mother had ordered saved for the guest of honor---his bride.
And that Mavis was rapping respectfully on the closed door and waiting for permission to enter.
What the...was that Evie? In silk and velvet, her ample tits practically spilling from the low neckline of the gown. Jewels in rainbow hues glittered from the gold mesh snood that barely contained her pale tresses. The buxom whore must have lost her mind, pilfering the finery of one of his parents' guests. God's nightgown, but she looked good enough to eat, cleaned up and wearing something other than that greasy servant's gown. She looked better wearing nothing at all.
Quickly he stepped inside the door, slamming it in Mavis's worried-looking face and throwing the bolt. No need to get a guest involved in Evie's punishment. He'd relish doing it himself. Mayhaps he'd even take her to the Great Hall, order the revelers to pay her homage as they would a great lady---as they would his bride. Strip her naked and fuck her in broad daylight, before the assembled knights and men-at-arms.
Gavin opened his mouth to speak, but naught came out. Evie held him speechless. Enthralled. Mayhaps he'd take her with him when he left here, buy her raiment like this, and lock her away in a tower at Castle fitzSimmons for his pleasure alone. Once he'd done his duty and gotten an heir on his bride, he amended when his conscience tweaked him.
"You dare to steal our guests' raiment?" he asked when he found his voice.
"'Tis mine. I am Lady Evelyn, your betrothed wife."
"You lie. You're Evie, a castle whore who pleasured me and my brother yestereve. You could be flogged for being here, you know. Take off that purloined finery, lay it carefully upon yon chest, and service your Lord of Misrule. I may yet let you go unpunished. Or I may not."
Her pale eyes flashed fury---or was it fear? "I tell you, I'm Lady Evelyn fitzSimmons, soon to be your bride. Do I sound like some peasant wench?"
She sounded not like the jade he and Will had fucked until she fainted from the pleasure of it. Today her Norman French sounded fit enough even for King Henry's court. And her tone as haughty as the jongleur had described. But 'twas impossible. No lady would have... "Disrobe or I shall rip the garments off your ripe, trembling body."
She made no move to obey, and that infuriated him. He stepped closer, so close he felt her heat, her fear, and laid a hand just below the crest of her left tit. "If I find the mark of Satan on this ample breast, I'll know for certain that you lie."
"Nay, you will not. You will know your bride came to you, wishing to learn if she could summon your lust. Evie and Evelyn are one and the same."
As though he'd been scalded, he jerked back his hand. "The marriage is off," he snapped, ashamed that even now his cock rose to salute the jaded bitch his sire had contracted for him to wed. "I'd not breed my heirs upon the veriest of whores."
"Who are you to name me whore? Think you I'm any more anxious to be plowed by a whoremaster who calls for not one but two peasant wenches to slake his lust on his arrival home, before he even breaks bread and slakes his thirst for wine?"
"You risk your safety, Madame. Enlighten me. For what earthly reason did you decide to play my whore when in a few short days you'd have become my bride? To fuck not only me but also my brother?"
"I'd heard...that you were a cocksman of some repute. I wanted not to wed with you if---" She paused, as though reluctant to go on. "---if you could not dredge up the desire necessary for you to do your marital duty with me."
"You heard I sometimes couldn't stiffen my rod for a lover?" Gavin searched his memory, but couldn't recall ever having suffered that malady.
"Nay. But I lost two suitors my guardian brought to me...two who said they'd not abide a fat, pale pigeon in their beds. I wanted to be sure you were not---"
"Well, you found out. Madame, your appearance does not disgust me, but your actions of yestereve certainly do. By the Rood, you allowed my brother to fuck your ass while you sucked my cock. While I plowed your cunt and filled you with my seed." God's nightshirt! The memory of her cunt milking his cock as he climaxed deep inside her was as vivid as if it were happening now. He might have gotten her with child already. He'd never even thought of pulling out, the way he always did with the wenches he fucked.
His sire had threatened to disown him and Will if their seed took root in the bellies of any Summerfield villeins. He could only imagine the punishment that would result from him impregnating a lady and leaving her unwed. "The marriage is back on," he spat out, the expression on his handsome face anything but happy. "You may already carry my heir."
"What if I do not wish to wed with a whoremaster who likes to share his women with his brother and God knows who else?"
"'Tis not your choice. I will tell the priest you carry my child and you'll not be able to refuse to say the vows."
The flat, unemotional delivery of his edict told Evelyn more than words could have that Gavin planned further punishment. Punishment she deserved, without a doubt, yet he deserved it, too. After all, 'twas he who'd called for two whores to pleasure him. He who'd invited Lord William to come join in the fun. It was he who'd moved on her and in her in perfect tandem with his twin. Such perfectly coordinated fucking was not a skill learned in one or two encounters unless her guess was seriously off.
"Will you share me with your brother after we are wed?" she asked ere she could hold back the words.
His smile belied the chill in his voice. "You liked it, didn't you? Me in your cunt, Will in your ass? Stuffing you like the Christmas goose now roasting in Cook's oven for tonight's feast? You ask if I'll share you again once we're wed? I may, since you've proven it creams your cunt so well. I'd not wish to deny you your bawdy pleasures. Will and I have ever shared---our training, our knighting...'tis natural that we've shared our wenches, too. I see no reason now to stop."
"'Tis against God's laws."
"So is fucking. That doesn't mean fucking isn't done every day, every hour, by everyone from the King to the lowest of serfs. Evie, I know you like it. Like it well indeed. You came so hard I thought you'd scream the castle down when Will and I were tandem fucking you. I am glad to find you have blood as hot as mine. Mind your mouth, or I'll confine you to a tower---and confine my fucking to a willing mistress or two, once we settle in at Castle fitzSimmons. And do not ever think of cuckolding me. The only fucking you'll be doing in future is with me---and Will, if he visits and I wish to share."
Gavin obviously thought he held the upper hand---in truth, he did. Still Evelyn couldn't resist pointing out again that as she had sinned, so had her betrothed.
His dark eyes flashed fire. "You are fortunate 'twas I and not my brother who took your cunt, for you're not high enough in the king's favor to be given to a future earl. I'll hear no more whining about my actions, now or ever. Come, there is no reason for you to hide in the tower. And I'm too angry with you to fuck you now. Partner me in the revelry, but remember, I demand your obedience in all things."
Thinking acquiescence the better part of valor, Evelyn meekly followed her angry betrothed down the stairs. 'Twould be time later to test her seductive skills---learn whether they were sufficient to persuade Gavin that having sex felt better than exacting retribution.
\*
By the time the Lord of Misrule returned to the hall and introduced his betrothed to the assembled crowd, the roe deer had been hauled from the fire and taken to the kitchen for further preparation. The twelve-foot long Yule log they'd cut last spring lay near the door, ready to be dragged to the huge fireplace and lit with the charred remains of last year's log. Laughing, Gavin led the knights and men at arms in the annual ritual, lighting the crackling heartwood kindling in remnants of the cooking fire. He touched the blazing kindling to dry bark on the huge log, lighting it instantly.
The instant igniting of the log foretold good luck for the household, just as eating the first offered mince pie was said to prevent bad things happening in the coming year to the one who ate it. Evelyn munched a flaky pie Gavin had given her, saying a silent prayer that the superstition was true. If it was, Gavin would forgive her...and their marriage would be one of joy and contentment.
"Let the merriment begin. I command you all to celebrate Christ's birth---and the crowning of the Conqueror a hundred and eleven years ago this day." Gavin lifted his goblet, downing its contents in a single swallow.
Thankfully, Lord William's attention focused on a red-haired, skinny wench wearing what Evelyn thought looked like the MacFarlane plaid. Strange. She'd heard Summerfield warred with Clan MacFarlane over some dispute or other. "Who is that woman with your brother?" she asked Gavin when he returned to her side.
"Lady Margaret MacFarlane. She is my lord father's guest---or should I say hostage? Our men-at-arms caught her on Summerfield lands yestereve, and Will brought her here. Though his intention was to hold her as surety for her wily father's good behavior, it looks as though he's decided to use her for another purpose."
Evelyn didn't doubt that, for Will had his hand in the Scots maid's bodice, feeling her skinny tits in full view of anyone who looked. He bent, whispered something in her ear, smiling at her reply. He squeezed her shoulders, then strode toward Evelyn and Gavin.
"I beg your aid, oh Lord of Misrule. I'd have you order Lady Margaret to bathe me."
"Consider it done." Gavin slammed his goblet on the heavy oak table, drawing the attention of most of the revelers. "Mistress Margaret MacFarlane, I command you to go now and bathe my lord brother, Will. I expect him to smell as fresh as the flowers from our mother's rose garden ere you're done."
Margaret blushed prettily. Evelyn envied her that, for when embarrassed, her own cheeks turned fiery hot and her pale skin mottled most unattractively.
Gavin lowered his voice, to where only those close by could hear. "Fuck her for me, too, my brother. Unfortunately I must stay and order the merrymaking." He gestured toward Evelyn, the action insulting. "And, of course, entertain my dear betrothed. I assume you notice the resemblance between her and the buxom whore we pleasured yestereve."
Will had the grace to lower his gaze. Oh, no. Here it came. The heat, the blotches and splotches. Knowing her cheeks and chin were fast becoming a hideous mass of red and purple welts, she was determined not to let her embarrassment show further. "Sir Gavin is too kind. Few of my suitors have ever likened me to a favored whore."
Gavin's furious look satisfied her that she'd managed to get under his skin.
As Gavin and probably his wanton future wife well knew, Will could care less about the bath he'd requested that Lady Margaret MacFarlane give him. When they arrived in his room, though, a steaming tub awaited them. His cock twitched when he remembered how sweetly the Scots wench had fitted against his chest, belly and groin on the ride back to Summerfield last night. All day he'd wooed the lass. Now he savored the prospect of bedding her.
Damn it, she'd made his cock rise to attention, his ballocks tighten in their sac the moment he'd found her struggling against the hold of two of Summerfield's men-at-arms. Though at first she'd refused to identify herself, she'd obviously been no serving wench, for her garments had been much too fine. Now she stood before him, sleeves carefully removed from the white linen gown she wore beneath her plaid, young but ripe, rosy-cheeked and possessed of eyes the color of a stormy sea. Reddish-brown hair framed her face in a riot of curls. When she bent to pick up soap from the stool by the tub, her dark green MacFarlane plaid gaped, providing him an arousing view of the upper curve of small, firm breasts.
His cock rose in salute. God's teeth, but he wanted to fuck her, now. He cared not if she'd spoken true when she said she was Laird MacFarlane's daughter. Whoever she was, she was his prisoner, ripe for plundering. His guest. Surety for the laird's good behavior if he cared about her.
He'd not been able to drag his gaze off the pretty maid from the moment he dragged her into his saddle and brought her home. The glint in her eyes when she looked at him was distinctly lascivious.
She eyed him that way now as she stood in his bedchamber while he disrobed. Her velvety pink tongue darted out of her mouth as though she wanted to taste him.
"I would have you bathe me first. Then I shall take my pleasure of you."
"Honor demands you protect my maidenhead."
Will didn't feel it necessary to point out that there were many ways for man and woman to pleasure each other that did not involve stealing a maid's virginity. If Lady Margaret still possessed it---which he doubted from the way she stared at the prominent bulge in his chausses as though she could barely wait to feel his cock piercing the channel between her long, slender legs.
Sir William deVere was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Tall, powerful-looking, with golden skin and hair the color of a raven's wing. His eyes, so dark they looked almost black, sparkled with good humor---and something more. In silvered chain mail, with a tunic of black and gold slung over his broad shoulder, and in the black chausses and simple tabard he'd just removed, he'd made her quim quiver. Just looking upon him now, watching his hard chest muscles ripple beneath that tawny sun-kissed skin while he untied the cross-garters that held up his braies, had her juices drizzling from the edges of the iron maiden she wore and down her inner thighs.
That he was one of a matched pair seemed too good to be true.
Lust practically stole Margaret's reason when Will shot another dazzling smile her way. Did he wear jewels in his shaft, the way 'twas rumored the earl did? She imagined the big knight's cock pierced with glittering gold adornments much like the baubles she wore in her ears and quim. She'd find out soon enough what he looked like naked.
As she moved closer to him and the huge oaken tub, the dangling clasp to her girdle swung back and forth against her mound, clinking melodically against her chastity belt and setting off a fierce need in her belly. One that would nay be satisfied as long as she wore the damned device. In truth, her maidenhead would be inviolate as long as the key remained securely locked in her sire's strongbox at the seat of Clan MacFarlane. As long as they held her here as surety for her father's continued good behavior.
Still, Sir William could ease the aching in her breasts, the weeping of her cunt. And she had ways she could relieve his lust for as long as he held her hostage.
A willing prisoner she'd be, if she could entice Sir William into her lonely bed. No woman should have lost three betrothed husbands on the field of honor, or reached the ripe age of nineteen as yet unwed and unbedded, locked in a chastity belt to preserve her value as a marriage prize. She dropped down in a curtsy she knew provided him with a good view of her breasts, a glimpse of the pink areolae that ringed her aching nipples. "My lord, may I help divest you of the rest of your clothing?"
"'Rise, that I may see you. And you may see me."
No woman could resist him when he curled those sensual lips into a smile. Nor when he held out a callused, well-shaped hand to ease her up from her curtsy. When his gaze settled on her breasts, 'twas as though he'd seared them with fire.
He bent, lifting his loose black shirt over his head. When she took it from him, she smelled the scent of woman. Another woman. Jealousy bubbled up in her, but when she saw how the muscles in his glistening hairless chest rippled, she cared not that he'd slaked his lust on someone else since he'd held her in his arms on the long ride to Summerfield Castle yestereve. "I will remove the rest. I wish to sink into yonder tub ere the water cools."
The bulge of his sex caught and held her attention as it grew to massive proportions within his black knit chausses. She could not drag her gaze away.
"Like what you see, my lady? My sword salutes your beauty. And protests my own neglect of its special needs during battle and on my journey home."
"You are---very large." And she was very wet and becoming wetter by the moment.
His laughing eyes mocked her, made her nipples tighten and tingle within her gown. "'Tis a benefit in battle, my lady."
"I mean..." Sudden heat scalded her cheeks, and knowing her embarrassment must be evident turned her skin even hotter. "...your---"
"Cock? Ballocks? Do not tell me a lady whose eyes look upon them with such obvious interest cannot say the words?"
His amused look annoyed her. By the Lady she'd not let him intimidate her. She met and held his gaze. "Cock. Ballocks. They seem unusually large."
"The better to give you pleasure when we fuck, sweeting. Come, remove the last of my garments and you may see how hot and ready you've made me. Then I would have you join me in my tub."
She knelt, loosed the cross-garters that held his braies to hard-muscled, shapely calves. Then, slowly, she skimmed her fingers up the outsides of his rock-hard thighs...over narrow hips. Full of anticipation for what she'd discover, Margaret hooked her thumbs into the fabric on each side of his waist and tugged the stretchy material down.
His cock sprang free, long, thick, and throbbing, curling gently upward toward his navel. The rumors about the lords of Summerfield apparently were true, for Sir William's huge, throbbing rod had no foreskin. It bore a thick gold bar that passed horizontally through its purplish, plumlike head. A row of glistening gold balls winked all around the prominent corona, inviting her gaze, her touch. A pearly drop of lubrication had already gathered in the slit at its tip.
Margaret's mouth watered with the need to taste that tempting liquid, to run her tongue along the long, thick column of his shaft and trace its distended, pulsating veins. His large pink seed sac made a luscious velvety cushion for the four pairs of ruby studs that marched down its center, and her fingers itched to caress that softness, to feel the cool smooth surface of the cabochon rubies in each end of the thick bar. "'Tis a beautiful cock, indeed." Leaning forward, intent on licking away that intriguing droplet of moisture, she couldn't resist asking, "Why do you embellish it so?"
"I am glad I please you, sweeting. As for the jewels, Gavin and I were each given a unique piercing as babes, and we chose to emulate our sire as we grew to manhood. An infidel prince had ordered him circumcised and pierced when he was captured as a youth." He paused, lifting his stiff rod by the bar that passed through its head. "I was circumcised and pierced here, and a small bar was placed through my cock soon after our birth, so all might distinguish me from Gavin, who was pierced in the same way as our lord father. The bars were changed frequently for thicker, longer ones as I grew. Once I achieved manhood, I added additional jewels."
"Do the piercings not hurt you?"
"Nay. They cause no pain once the wounds have healed."
"Your brother and father are pierced differently?"
He held up his rod again, indicating that intriguing slit in its very tip. "They wear a captive ring that passes through this slit and exits on the underside of their cocks, just in front of the corona."
In truth, Margaret liked the glittering look of Will's mighty sword. "Do the piercings enhance...?"
"The jewelry is said to make lovers' pleasure more intense. I can only vouch for the fact that it heightens my own sensations." His hand on her head urged her forward, as though he wanted her to take him in her mouth. Then he pulled back. "Come, I would bathe first. Disrobe for me."
"I should not..." But his hot gaze scalded her, compelled her to loosen her golden girdle and lift off her plaid and the plain woolen gown beneath it. She stood in her shift, shivering not so much from the chill of the room as from her reluctance for him to see her shame---the prison far more confining than the luxuriously appointed solar here at Summerfield Castle where he'd ordered her to be held under guard.
"I would see you. All of you." He stood in the tub, water lapping about his muscular calves. His huge cock saluted her, rearing up from his hairless groin toward the ridged muscles of his belly. Its golden studs glowed in the candlelight, held her gaze. "Disrobe. Now, ere the water cools."
Perhaps since he removed his own pubic curls, he'd not mind that her own quim was bare as a babe's, its fiery bush having been removed before her old nursemaid had fitted the rigid gold device between her stinging labia and locked the belt securely about her hips. Slowly, listening for his reaction, she lifted her shift, baring herself to the big knight's lusty gaze.
"You, too, are pierced." His harsh intake of breath could have meant he liked what he saw...or that he did not. Only when she tossed away her garment and looked into his obsidian eyes did she know for certain. Sir William apparently welcomed a challenge---the challenge presented by the glittering gold device her father had ordered locked about her waist ere sending her to be captured by the powerful Earl of Summerfield. And the dangling clit ring that served as extra security against randy would-be lovers.
''Twill ensure you nay return with a deVere bastard in your belly, girl," he'd said when she protested. Margaret was none too certain that was true when she saw the glint in Will's dark eyes.
Will chuckled. "I've yet to find an iron maiden that can defeat me, sweeting. Come, let us play in the bath."
"And if I do not wish to join you, my lord?" she asked as she stepped closer to his tub.
He smiled, showing her straight white teeth and an inviting rose-pink tongue she could practically feel lapping at her pebbled nipples. "Then you must pay a forfeit. Know you not the rules of the game?"
"What would you have of me? I possess naught but myself, not even an extra plaid to protect me from the chill in the night air."
"I wish a gift of gold." His gaze settled between her legs, upon the golden ring that pierced her love button and held it out from a small round hole in the gold shield. "Perhaps I will take the one that pierces your tempting clit."
She moved to the tub and stepped onto the wooden stair, then paused so he could see. "'Tis welded shut, my lord. If you want it, you must tear away my flesh as well."
Smiling, he slipped a finger through the dangling ring, tweaking the hard little nub and making more of her hot, slick honey slither down her thighs. "That would be a tragedy, my little one, to hurt such precious flesh as this. I could always summon my lord father's armorer and have him break the weld. But I know many ways to give you pleasure. Ways that do not require that I remove this pretty ornament or the cruel device it helps to hold in place. We shall explore them all."
"But your pleasure, my lord? Would you let me satisfy you with my hands?"
He reached further between her legs and ringed her puckered rear entrance with a callused fingertip. "You possess two other holes as well as your soft, gentle hands. I plan to make good use of them all. Come, join me. Help me scrub away the stench of the hunt."
As she stepped into the water she laughed, a tinkling, merry sound that went not with her stern Christian name.
"I shall call you Meggie, for Margaret's much too serious sounding for one as sensual as you." God, but she made his cock stand at attention as few maidens could, his tastes having been jaded by serving girls who asked for naught but a quick fuck. Will stroked between her firm, silky legs, over the warm gold shield that left her pierced clit and puckered rear entrance unprotected, while it guarded the entrance to her sweet cunt.
Her soft moan at his touch had his balls drawing up, tightening in their sac. With one finger he delved beneath the iron maiden and felt the base of a rigid metal plug that stretched and filled her cunt as only a man's cock or tongue should do. "What is this?"
"'Twas my sire's idea when he commissioned the device from the goldsmith in Edinburgh. To ready me for a man, he said."
Will had always thought Laird MacFarlane a madman and thoroughly agreed with his lord father's assessment that the man bore careful watching and would benefit from being skewered at the tip of some Summerfield steel. He couldn't deny, though, that this particular one of the wily Scot's ideas showed a certain fiendish cleverness. To restrain his daughter from fucking yet keep her hot and wet with the very device that prevented a lover from filling her cunt with himself, while incredibly cruel, had required intelligent thought. Such a device had possibilities in the torture chamber. Still, he could not imagine a father forcing such a cruel device on his own flesh and blood. "How long-"
"Three years. Since he caught me pleasuring myself one dreary winter day. Twenty-eight days since the ring you seem to like so well was inserted, ensuring that no man can easily remove the device even if he should manage to break the lock."
A tempting proposition, to break that lock and take her fully! He'd do it, but first he'd teach her all the other pleasures he anticipated. Will rotated the clit ring, felt the weld that sealed it. The hole in the shield was too small to slide the ring through. Perhaps he could cut off the shield...
Mayhaps he'd let it stay. Bring her and himself to climax without penetrating her tight glory hole. At least for now.
Her sweet cream oozed from around the slender finger of gold, soaking his finger, perfuming the solar with the heady musk of man and woman and mutual arousal. Needing to taste her, he sank into the water, sitting cross-legged, the tip of his throbbing cock bobbing on the surface. "Spread your legs for me, Meggie. I would slake my hunger."
She stood, her feet planted on either side of his straining hips, her satiny labia held open by the chastity belt. The ring in her clit swung back and forth, tantalizing him, tempting his tongue. Her firm inner thighs glistened with her fragrant juices, juices that smelled like woman: slightly salty and a little bit sweet, with a hint of some precious perfume from the East.
Will lapped her up, all the time toying with the clit ring and the tiny, rock-hard bundle of nerves it pierced. Gently he took that sensitive flesh into his mouth and suckled it, swirling his tongue around it then spearing it through the ring and tugging it beyond his lips, into the hot recesses of his mouth. God's teeth, but she inflamed him. His balls throbbed painfully, as though they would burst if he didn't gain release.
With his hands, he stroked her, coaxing out more of the tiny whimpers and moans that began deep in her chest and made their way slowly out of her mouth and into his ears. She tasted like heaven and hell, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to rip off the cruel device she wore and fuck her until they both fainted from the pleasure.
Instead he wet his fingers with her sweet honey and ran them around the puckered entrance to her ass. One finger slipped inside, then two. She tensed at what he guessed might have been an unfamiliar touch, then sighed. Her muscles relaxed, letting him sink his fingers into her rear entrance until his palm lay flush with the chastity belt.
The water rippled softly about them, the fragrance of evergreens and herbs perfuming the air, mingling with the musk of her arousal. Her high-pitched, breathy little cries when he splayed his fingers inside her tight rear passage urged him on. His cock throbbed harder. God's blood, how he needed to fuck her. To bury himself deep in her lush body, between her full red lips...within the tight, throbbing confines of her ass.
As he drew her pierced love button deeper in his mouth, twisting its ring with his tongue, Will envied the gold that kept her sopping cunt inviolate. Her juices flooded his hand when he worked a third finger up her ass and began to thrust slowly in and out. Her moans told him she was close...as close as he to losing control, finding the pleasure they both sought.
He nipped her clit, then let it go and withdrew his fingers. "Turn around and kneel in the water. I want to fuck your pretty ass." He came up on his knees, guided himself to her well-lubricated rear entrance, and grasped her hips. "Be not afraid, sweeting. I'll go slowly, and you'll love it. You're wet. So wet. Have you ever taken a man's cock like this?"
She trembled but leaned back, letting his cockhead press hard against her puckered opening. "Nay. But do not stop."
When he pressed a bit harder, her flesh unfurled like a flower in spring, allowing his cockhead past the tight ring of muscle before contracting, squeezing him almost painfully as her body tried to expel him. The water lapped at his thighs and ass, its warmth surrounding his shaft, caressing her bare ass, wetting the gold belt about her rounded ass cheeks and making it glitter in the candlelight.
God's teeth, 'twould be a miracle if he held out for long. His seed boiled up in his balls, threatened to erupt as he lowered her slowly, steadily, until her incredibly tight ass was fully impaled on his throbbing shaft. Her moans, louder now, bespoke pleasure-and pain. Pain he had no desire to exacerbate by moving.
It took all his control to be still. Not to thrust and withdraw hard and fast until he exploded in a fiery climax. To keep from reaching around her and fondling her pretty, round breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers. He resisted nipping her slender neck with his teeth, instead bathing her nape with his tongue, soothing motions to make her forget the pain and renew her arousal. Her skin warmed, and her little whimpers intensified. God in heaven, he'd never before aroused a woman quite so easily.
Her nipples stabbed at his palms when he cupped her breasts. Her tight ass gripped his cock almost painfully. The ungiving warmth of gold pressing on his seed sac reminded him of what he could not have, making him want even more to invade that sweet hole, fill it with his essence.
"Oh, my lord. I ache."
"No more than I, my Meggie." Will lifted her slightly, then lowered her again. He tried to concentrate not on the incredibly tight channel that gripped his cock but on the sensation of the wet, warm bath water sloshing over his thighs with every gentle motion he made. Her moans dissolved into breathy whimpers, and her nipples hardened further when he plucked them gently between his thumbs and forefingers.
Pressure built in his balls, made them tighten and throb more as her ass contracted around him and her whimpers became entreaties for him to fuck her, relieve the need she could no longer ignore. In answer, he lifted her higher, brought her down hard on his throbbing shaft. Again and again, until she resisted his effort to withdraw and clamped down on his cock.
"Oh, yesss. More, my lord. Oh God."
Her screams of satisfaction sent him over the edge, and he joined her with a shout of his own as hot semen erupted from his body in hard, fast bursts.
"My lord?" she asked sleepily a few minutes later. "Does it feel this good with any man, or is it that what we just shared was special---that shining, breathtaking feeling the bards say come only between one man, one woman?"
"'Tis special, Meggie. Very special." For the first time in his twenty-one years, Will felt as though he might mean the reply he'd given countless lovers as a sop to their woman's need to make something special of an act that was as natural as breathing.
Evelyn surveyed the bountiful feast laid before them at the high table but doubted she could eat a bite. Would that she'd not been so impulsive. If she had resisted the urge to learn if Gavin would desire her, she and her betrothed might be laughing and teasing each other now, instead of sitting silently now. As it was, she worried that any minute he might lash out at her again as he had many times since discovering her unwise deception.
Gavin's twin seemed besotted over the Scots lass. The two seemed unable to keep their hands off each other. Now Will leaned over and spoke to Gavin. What did he say?
Again Evelyn's cheeks grew hot. Mayhaps she could distract Gavin ere he could remind her again of her transgressions. "My lord, I'd give you a token this day, the first of the Christmas season."
Frowning, Gavin turned to her, took the small gold key she handed him. "'Tis a partridge etched upon a pear. Clever. I thank you, Madame." He dropped it into the pocket of the black velvet tunic he wore---a rich garment with the deVere device embroidered in brilliant tones of gold, red and purple.
"Do you not wish to know what it opens?" Evelyn asked.
"I'm certain you will enlighten me when it suits your purposes. Here. Eat some of the swan. I've never liked it." He paused, stared at her side of the silver plate they shared. "You've eaten hardly a bite."
"I'm not hungry." How could she have been, when it was so evident she inspired naught but disgust in the man who last night had practically drooled over her when he'd thought her one of the castle's whores. "Fret not. I'll not waste away from missing one or two meals."
"I mind not that you've got healthy curves. Besides, I'd not have you sicken. For better or worse, you'll be my wife. I'd have you healthy enough to bear my sons. Eat." Because his tone did not invite disobedience, Evelyn picked up a leg of swan. The savory treat might as well have been stale bread for all the enjoyment she took from eating it.
Later, while the Summerfield villeins trekked into the castle in small groups to pay their rents, partaking of mince pies and leftovers from the Christmas feast, Gavin directed the guests to sing, dance, and generally make a mockery of civilized rules of behavior. Evelyn loved it. He might hate her, but he had a rather large cock and an obvious appetite for humor as well as fucking. Fortunately the merrymaking seemed to have taken the edge off his fury with her, or at least given him something more pleasant to do than ruminate about it.
After Will whispered something to Gavin, Gavin turned to her. "On the morrow we will join the Boxing Day hunt. Lady Margaret and Will wish to join us for another round of carnal play. Do not think of demurring."
Evelyn's cunt lips clenched, and her juices began to flow. "My lord---"
"Save the protests, Madame. You've proven well that you like your lovers in pairs. Be in the hall to break the fast, prepared to ride." He turned, but looked back at her when she laid a hand on his thigh. "Yes?"
If he wanted to humiliate her, he apparently had found just the way to do it. The thought of parading naked before the lords and ladies of the castle made Evelyn cringe. "Please, do not say we are to fuck outside, where any member of the hunting party might ride by and see? My lord, if you care not for me, give a care to what will be said of you."
Gavin laughed. "While I've fucked whores against handy trees, that's hardly what my lord brother and I have in mind for you. 'Tis too cold to disrobe out of doors, so we will use a hunting lodge secreted deep within the woods. I'd not have all know I'm taking a whore to wife. Go on now. The ladies have long since retired to their beds, 'tis time you do the same."
She'd been summarily dismissed, but she didn't mind. On the morrow Evelyn would turn the tables on her arrogant future husband who saw no problem in his constant debauchery while he roundly condemned her for the only slip in her own ladylike behavior---the only one he knew about, in any case.
\*
The morn of Boxing Day broke clear and cold. Perfect for a hunt. Evelyn drew her deep-blue cloak around herself when a blast of frigid wind swept through the bailey, but her nether parts were warm, already damp with anticipation. Gavin might be intending to humiliate her by forcing her to re-enact her performance as Evie, but truth be known, the idea aroused her. She supposed she should be scandalized at the way her nipples puckered and her quim twitched for her handsome betrothed and his identical brother. Mayhaps she was as he said, the veriest of whores disguised in a lady's raiment.
She watched from her vantage point on the stair to the great hall as Lord William dragged Margaret of Clan MacFarlane up before him in the saddle. Looking at the assembled horseflesh, she singled out the great black destrier as Gavin's. Her own chestnut palfrey was nowhere to be found. Oh, no. Surely he did not intend to toss her up with him as his brother had the Scots wench.
"Good morning, Evie," Gavin whispered when he came up behind her and lowered her cape. His breath felt warm on her earlobe, exposed now to the chilly wind. "Do you not think it strange that a peasant wench would mount her own fine steed?"
"I-I suppose."
His big hands grasped her at the waist. "You will ride with me. As my whore would do."
Evelyn held her breath when he lifted her, but he tossed her up onto the back of his horse as though she weighed no more than a babe. Only the way his muscles bunched beneath his fingers hinted at the slightest strain. When he mounted behind her, his rock-hard cock throbbed against the crack of her ass.
"We go first. They will follow." Gavin then lifted his hand, and the herald blew his horn. The hunt had begun.
Gavin wore no armor, only a leather gambeson Evelyn felt beneath the soft velvet of his tunic. When she leaned against his chest, the fabric caressed her cheek. And the bulk of his muscular body shielded her back from the wind. Her bottom ached from the enthusiastic loveplay during her role as Evie. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. More an arousing one.
Her sire, were he alive, would not approve of the heat that bubbled in her belly or the strange light feeling she got in her belly when she looked upon her betrothed husband. She wished she knew whether he wanted her to be as wanton as she'd been as Evie, or if she should somehow demonstrate her loyalty by appearing uninterested in the sex play. Was he playing with her mind, enjoying her discomfort? What if she misread his signals, played the lady when expected the whore? Worse, what if she thought he wanted a wanton wench when he expected a highborn lady?
Evelyn settled back against his massive chest, praying she'd make the right decision. Gavin led the party from the bailey, then dropped back to ride beside Will and the Scots lass once they'd clattered over the massive wooden drawbridge.
The wind chilled her, but Gavin warmed her with his body heat. Evelyn held tight when he spurred his mount and distanced them from the crowd. "Were it not so cold, my wanton bitch, I'd be fucking you now. 'Tis good, rocking in a woman while my warhorse rocks me."
"Surely you jest." Gavin certainly would not fuck her before an audience of all in Lord Rolfe's court. In front of his lady mother. Or would he? From the way he fondled her mound through her gown, Evelyn was none too sure.
"Nay. I could put my cock in your sweet cunt and none would know but you...unless the pleasure was so great it would make you cry out for more. I warrant I can make you beg for it."
Just then three staccato notes burst out from somewhere behind them. "Evie."
Gavin's deep voice poured over her like honey. Yes, she liked him calling her that, even though he did it to humiliate her, remind her of her sin. "Mmmm?"
"The huntsman has cornered a boar. Wish you to be in on the kill, or shall we rest awhile in yonder hunting lodge?"
Evelyn shuddered at the thought of witnessing the gory battle between man and beast. And she sensed he wanted her to opt for him, and sex. Briefly she considered saying she wished to watch the kill, but she wanted to please him more. "I want to be with you."
He pinched her nipple through the layers of her clothes, then bent and whispered in her ear. "And Will. Don't forget Will. The one whose cock you took up the ass."
"Are you comfortable sharing your wife with your brother?
"As we shared our mother's womb, we share everything."
"Everything, m'lord?"
"Everything. And you like having two mouths, four hands on your body, caressing all your secret places. Two almost identical hard, randy cocks heating you, reaming your pretty mouth, cunt and ass, bringing you to pleasure beyond any you've known before."
'Twas wicked. Deliciously wicked. Evelyn's cream flowed, drenching her slit and dampening her quivering thighs as Gavin guided their mount to the secluded lodge. "That it provided pleasure does not make what we did less wrong. In truth, I find it hard to imagine greater joy than you gave me before." Difficult but not impossible. "How will I tell you and your brother apart? I swear, when I saw you both this morn I had no idea which one was you. Even though I've fucked with both of you," she added before he could remind her of that shameful fact.
"I guess you didn't see us together, did you?" He laughed. "'Tis said it's impossible to distinguish us but by the piercings of our cocks, though I am a bit taller...and some of our lovers have noted, a mite larger in the ballocks. You'll see the differences soon enough. I can tell by the sweet musk of sex that surrounds you that the idea of taking us both excites you."
Yes, it did, though Evelyn figured on rotting in hell for her wanton ways. Her nipples prickled in the morning chill when Gavin lifted her down from the saddle.
"Come, we'll not wait for my brother. I'm hot to fuck you now."
\*
"Quiet. 'Twould seem Gavin's not alone." In truth Will was glad, for though he'd suggested the foursome to take his brother's mind off Lady Evelyn's deception, he was loath to share Meggie even with his twin. He also wondered at Gavin's uncharacteristic ire, wondered if he might have been stung by the same jealousy that now had him considering ways to keep Meggie to himself. "Come, let us not make our presence known. I'd introduce you to the pleasure of watching...seeing others find their pleasure."
"His cock looks more than ready, m'lord. Is yours?" Boldly Meggie reached inside Will's chausses, grasped his hardening shaft. "Oh, yes. 'Tis wakening in my hand."
God's truth, the wench would kill him if she didn't stop rubbing her finger over his slit as she slowly rotated the thick gold bar that pierced his cockhead. "Cease, my sweet Meggie. I'd have you watch my twin and the buxom wench who sucks his cock so sweetly." He delved beneath her skirt and tugged gently at the ring in her clit.
"She strokes his ballocks. Look." Meggie sounded excited as she described what she saw.
"He likes it. Watch. His eyelids close. See how the sweat beads on his brow. I can practically feel him gasping for breath, fighting to hold in his seed. Watch. The wench torments him further."
Meggie gasped. "She put her finger up his bum, as ye did with me last night."
"It brings him pleasure. See. His cheeks flush. He can no longer stay still. Watch. He pulls away." Will pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger, and her honey gushed around the shield that imprisoned her cunt. "Like that, don't you?"
"Oh, yessss."
"Would you like to suck my cock?"
"Here?"
"Gavin would not mind. "
She squeezed his balls, shot him a saucy grin. "Did I suck yer cock, m'lord, I'd not be able to watch your brother fuck his wench."
"All right. I'll suck your pretty clit, then, whilst you tell me all Gavin does to the fair Evie."
"Evie? Lady Evelyn? It sounds as though ye know her well."
Did Will not know better, he'd have said Meggie'd been bitten by the green-eyed monster of jealousy. Or...mayhaps she had. "Intimately." Lowering his voice to a deep, soft rumble, he added, "Very, very intimately indeed. My brother and I made a fucking sandwich of her yestereve, ere I sent for you."
"M'lord?"
He nuzzled her smooth mound with his nose, then met her gaze. "We fucked her the way I thought we'd do this day with you, sweeting. Me in her ass, Gavin in her mouth...and her tight, wet cunt. She's not trussed up the way you are. I can tell imagining us fucking you in tandem makes you wet. Hot." He stroked her clit, exerting pressure on the shield with its built-in dildo. "I'd taste your sweet honey now."
Will's tongue snaked out, flailed her ringed clit. "Tell me, Meggie. What does my brother do now?" he asked, the vibration tickling her clit and making her strain to thrust her flesh back into his mouth.
"He digs his fingers into the blond wench's hair and draws her face to his. Oooh. Do not stop, m'lord. Now he takes her mouth with his own, as though he's starvin' to taste himself on her reddened lips." She gasped as her cunt clenched, whimpering a little when Will pressed harder on her love button. "Yesss. That feels...so good. Makes me hot. Ye've got a magic touch."
He pulled away and blew on her swollen slit, sending shards of sensation down her quivering thighs. "Surely he doesn't stop there. If he does mayhaps he needs my help."
"He needs nothing, I swear. Evie straddles Gavin now. She's taking his big, beautiful ringed cock and stuffin' it in her cunt. She moans and whimpers, as though she's in delicious pain as she sinks on his shaft clear up to his balls. My God, the jewels in his ballocks are winking at us now from between her splayed thighs. His smooth pink ball sac glistens with her juices."
"You like looking at my brother's balls? They'll be tickling your asshole soon enough." Reaching up, Will tweaked Meggie's nipples, making her gasp with delight-and longing. "Go on. Surely they've not gone to sleep."
"Nay. He moves on her, harder and faster. Now he raises his body off her, cups her plump pale breasts. Oh, yesss, my lord. Do not stop." She paused, breathing hard as delicious sensations flowed through her aching body. "Now he takes them in his mouth. First one, then the other of her dark, distended nipples disappear between his lips. His cheeks draw inward as he sucks upon them."
What delight the wench must be experiencing. Meggie tried to imagine the pleasure she'd feel if she had Will's huge, hard cock in her cunt and his soft, voracious mouth upon her less generous breasts.
Her nipples tingled. Her clit felt as though thousands of tiny needles danced within its tight confines and collided with the warm metal of the ring that held it. Her asshole twitched, as though telling her it was ready to take what was forbidden to her dripping cunt.
"Fuck me, m'lord. Rip away this cruel belt and put yer huge, hard cock inside me. I want what Sir Gavin's lover now so obviously enjoys."
Will raised his head but stroked Meggie's swollen slit with both his callused hands. "I'd not hurt you. Do you want it, I will summon the armorer and have him free you. If he does, though, you must pay me a forfeit."
"Anything."
"Wed with me. Wed with me knowing I intend to destroy Clan MacFarlane, make its lands my own. Give the rotting castle you call home to my brother, that he may have holdings within a day's ride...that we may share you and share his bride as we've shared all since we were babes."
Will knew the price he asked was high. He realized full well that Meggie had likely been sent to spy on Summerfield. Still his blood boiled for the hot-blooded Scots lass. Nothing kept him from making a match for himself, now that his betrothed had died of a fever nearly a year ago. "What say you? Would you be my English baroness now, and someday my countess, pray God that time comes not for many years?"
"You would slay my sire?"
"Not apurpose. I'd chase him back to the highlands from whence he came."
Meggie looked up at Will. "I canna ask more than that of ye, m'lord. Yes, if I be what you want, I'll be yer bride."
"Good. I'll order our priest to waive the banns, and we can wed and share the bridal bed with Gavin and his heiress. 'Tis what we've planned for all our lives-two compliant wenches to fuck us, together as well as separately."
"God forgive me for it's a heinous sin, but the thought of having ye both take me makes me hot and wet. I want ye so much it scares me."
"When we return to the castle, I will find the armorer." Will knelt at Meggie's feet and ran a finger under the shield of the gold belt. Carefully, he slipped it inside her dripping cunt beside the tongue-like plug. "He will remove this. 'Twill be your gift of gold to me this holiday season. Do you wish it, you may reinsert the ring and he can weld it shut. I wager it gives you great pleasure."
"Yes. As I imagine your jewels bring you joy." She stroked the length of his rod, tugging gently at each paired stud, grasping the jeweled ends of the thick bar and rotating them. Shards of intense pleasure began where metal touched flesh and spread cell by cell throughout his body. Lubrication pooled in the slit in his cockhead when she played with his balls. "Why do ye remove yer body hair?"
"To enhance my pleasure. Why do you remove yours?"
"To keep it from tangling in the iron maiden, or so thought my nursemaid when Da presented her with the device. I am sorry---"
"Do not be. I wish you always to keep your sweet slit smooth for me. Come, sit on my lap. I'd bring you to a climax for the last time ere I show you the ultimate woman's pleasure. Lift your gown, that I may fondle your pretty breasts whilst I bury my cock in your tight, hot ass."
Will wet his hand with Meggie's hot, slick cream, then rubbed it over his cock. Positioning himself, he let her down inch by inch. Incredible tightness. Heat. Her rear entrance grabbed him, milked him, sucked him in until his balls rested against the puckered rosebud of her ass. When he reached under her gown and tugged on the hard nubs of her nipples, her breathy little whimpers nearly made him come.
His gaze locked with his brother's as Evie bobbed up and down on Gavin's cock. Gavin smiled. "A sandwich with two layers, my brother?" Will asked Gavin, and Meggie gave a breathy little laugh. "Plow her well, for in but three more days you'll take her for your bride."
Evie let out a scream, and Will watched Gavin's eyelids close. The look of ecstasy on his face, and the jerking movements of her buxom body above his twin, had Will ready to burst within Meggie's tight rear. As ready to burst as he sensed that she was.
Her heart beat fast and hard beneath his fingers. She clamped down on his cock with strong inner muscles, as if she'd never let him go. Her whimpers gave way to breathy moans of impending satisfaction, and her body trembled. Her slick wet honey drenched his balls and his thighs when he rocked beneath her and buried his cock to the hilt. Her climax sent him over the edge, and he felt his seed building, then spilling, scalding his cock within the tight confines of her rear passage.
\*
His lust sated, Gavin was feeling mellow toward his wanton betrothed. He could have as easily been stuck with a withered prune of a woman. Instead, he was about to gain a wife he loved to fuck. One it would be a pleasure to get his heirs on.
Still naked, he lay back on the cushions by the fireplace in the hunting lodge and watched Evie gather her garments that he'd strewn about in his haste to get to her pale, generous flesh. He liked her alabaster skin, the full curves of her breasts and buttocks, the roundness of her belly that cushioned him, keeping her hipbones from digging into his flesh the way skinny women's did.
Her smile warmed him, whether they were fucking or sitting at the high table before his family and their retainers. The demeanor the jongleur had seen as haughty, Gavin read as the mark of a strong chatelaine who'd keep his castle folk in line, thus keeping him comfortable and well-fed. Evie didn't hesitate to speak her mind, but she did so with good humor and consideration for those who served her.
And by God's bones he loved burying his cock in her soft, tight cunt. Loved pleasuring her and taking pleasure in her. That alone made him content with his bride. He raked her with an approving gaze, glad she apparently had no worries about him seeing her as God had made her. Gavin liked that, too. The only thing he didn't like was the thought of sharing her with men other than Will.
'Twouldn't happen. He'd keep her so stuffed with his cock that she'd be too weary to even think of straying. And if he had to go away, he could always confine her in one of the castle's three towers.
All in all, Gavin was content. He could have done worse. Much worse. Instead he'd been given a wanton bride who made his blood boil, and rich lands to rule. Returning Evelyn's smile, he reached for his own clothes and started to dress. Suddenly he was anxious to get on with the revelry of the season---and the celebration of his wedding.
Will's too, he'd wager from the protective way his brother had treated the MacFarlane lass. Two hot-blooded brides for the brothers to share---though for the first time in his life, Gavin was feeling a hint of need to keep this one woman for himself alone.
He shrugged off that emotion as a result of the afterglow of a good fucking---no, a great one, the best he could recall ever having enjoyed. 'Twas the enthusiastic whore in her that he lusted after, but he found he was also coming to like the fine widow lady who was to become his bride. "Come, my hot sweet wanton, we must return to Summerfield and resume our roles as prospective bride and groom, ere we are missed."
Later that afternoon the yule log crackled in the fire, its sap perfuming the air with a clean, woodsy scent. The serfs came in groups, and straggling one by one, to claim their gifts from the earl and countess. Giggling maidservants hung fresh garlands of mistletoe about the hall, while the older housemaids served honey cakes and the earl's finest wine to the family and their guests. After they sat to partake of the evening meal, Lord Rolfe lifted his glass and proposed a toast.
"To my heir, Sir William, and the woman he's chosen for his own. May they have the joy I've found with my Jasmine...the prosperity God has granted Summerfield...a long life together and many sturdy sons."
Gavin lifted his cup to toast his brother, genuinely happy that Will had made a love match. He glanced at his own betrothed, full of pride in her with her fine garb and pretty manners, yet sad in a way that he'd fallen in love not with her but with the bawdy castle whore she'd portrayed---the Evie he couldn't acknowledge in noble company---Lord of Misrule or not.
Evelyn spoke cordially with his lady mother about some boring household crisis while all Gavin wanted to do was lift her skirts, put her on his lap, and fuck her until she screamed. Mayhaps he'd do that once they wed---and once they went to live on her property a day's ride distant.
Gavin fingered the gift she'd bestowed on him this night---a matched pair of turtle doves beautifully crafted of gold, their beaks hinged and poised to clamp down upon his nipples---or hers. The two were joined by a finely wrought chain. "I'd try these on your tits tonight," he whispered once the carolers began to sing.
"They're for you, not me. Would you like for me to---"
"No." He had the feeling the bite on his nipples would flow straight to his cock, and he'd be hard as stone and hurting ere he could possibly retire for the night. With her. Strangely, neither Mavis nor any of the other wenches he'd bedded held much appeal, compared with his buxom Evie. Evelyn. His betrothed.
\*
Two days hence, Gavin tossed Will the latest gift. Evelyn's maid had delivered it moments earlier: a cleverly made cock cage bearing four golden bands, each etched with a calling bird upon a perch. The pear-shaped partridge key she'd given him on Christmas Day fit easily into the tiny lock on the device. As with the nipple clips, the cage was a fine piece of goldsmithing.
Damn, he'd thought the series of provocative toys had been broken yestereve when Evelyn had served him three plump roasted guinea hens for their evening meal.
"Tomorrow 'twill be five gold rings she gives you," Will commented while making a show of examining the cage and the heavy gold chains that would lock it to the wearer's body. "Pray God the rings do not fit through this."
"True."
Will looked again at the golden cage, laughed. "Mayhap she intends to fuck with me whilst you watch. Or..."
That would happen over Gavin's dead body. He'd share, but he wouldn't sit idly and watch another man fuck Evie, even if it was his twin brother. "Begone with you. Go to the armorer and have him cut away the iron maiden that keeps you from your lady's cunt. Then you will have something to occupy yourself other than tormenting me."
\*
The fifth day of Christmas. A holy day of celebration for all, what should have been a joyous day at Summerfield. A feast fit for King Henry himself. Gavin lounged at the high table, a jeweled coronet perched precariously upon his head, a joint of venison held high like a scepter in one large, powerful hand.
Evelyn smiled at her handsome raven-haired bridegroom, glancing past him to his identical twin and the MacFarlane lass, now Lord William's bride. The yule log crackled cheerily in the huge fireplace, warding off the chill from a cold, damp wind that howled beyond the castle walls. The air of gaiety that prevailed in the hall didn't extend to her, for her husband's last order had cast a pall on her enjoyment of the wedding festivities.
Her cheeks still burned when she recalled his words moments earlier. "A joyous day indeed. Drink a toast to two brides for me and Will, one blond and buxom, the other slender with hair of flames. One bedding. 'Tis my order as Lord of Misrule. As we've shared all else, so my lord brother and I will share the women we've wed this night."
Lady Jasmine had gasped before consulting with Lord Rolfe and composing her beautiful face into a smile. The Summerfield knights and men at arms had let out with cheers and all manner of ribald comments. Meggie had blushed prettily and whispered something that made her husband grab her for a long, public kiss.
Gavin had merely raised his joint of venison and swigged another goblet of wine.
Jongleurs, ropedancers, and minstrels vied for his approval, for as Lord of Misrule, his word was law. None dared to defy him, not even Evelyn, who despite her embarrassment looked forward to the public bedding that would come ere long.
"Wine, more wine for all!" Gavin's voice rang out over the sensual sounds of lutes and harps, sweet voices of the wandering minstrels.
"We await th' bedding, m'Lord of Misrule!" exclaimed Alex, Will's squire.
Gavin clapped his hands. "Then wait no more, my friends, for my cock is randy, my bride ripe for the plucking. I wager Will's as ready as I to sow his seed. Will?"
"To the bedchamber, ladies. We will soon follow." Gavin turned to Will after the women guests had dragged their brides away. "What did your fair lady gift you with this day?"
"A gift of gold. Her maidenhead, bared for the taking. For locking her in that wicked device, Laird MacFarlane deserves to die of apoplexy at the news that his one surviving bairn now belongs to his sworn enemy. With what did your bride present you?"
"As you predicted. Five gold rings." A signet ring bearing the fitzSimmons device, two identical rounded gold bands for his forefingers...and the fourth and fifth, smooth circular rings too wide for any of his fingers yet not wide enough to span his wrists. "The MacFarlane knows not of the marriage?" Gavin had watched a contingent of armed knights and men ride out the day before, to carry the news of the upcoming nuptials about the countryside. He'd assumed the countryside included the rotting MacFarlane keep that lay a stone's throw across the contested border.
"'Nay. The party rode out yesterday to ensure peace for this day's festivities. The news of my marriage to Meggie, I thought to impart personally, after we consummate our vows. Come, my brother, it is past time we did our husbandly duties."
Gavin drained the rest of his fine red Flemish wine. "Come. We must not keep our women waiting."
\*
Meggie tossed back her flaming locks, met Evelyn's gaze. "What troubles ye, milady?"
"Only that it suits me not, to be mounted like a prize mare for all to see." At the sound of heavy footsteps on the solar stair, Lady Evelyn struggled to arrange her hip-length blond locks. 'Twas a poor job they did, hiding her pale, plump form from view---but she had naught better, for the ladies who attended them had vanished with all their garments. She spared a glance at Meggie, who seemed not to care that her compact tits and ass were in plain view of all who might wish to see.
Despite the warmth of the fire, Evelyn trembled. Not from fear. God knew she'd done this before. She'd spread her legs for all to see and flushed with embarrassment when old Baron fitzSimmons had hoisted the bloody sheets and proclaimed his ownership of her person. Proclaimed his manhood for all to see. Ha. Manhood indeed. The rutting old bastard had cared naught for her pleasure, only his own. At least the new man her estates had bought her knew how to wield his jeweled cock. And gave every appearance of loving to wield it on her.
As did his identical twin, the Scotswoman's eager bridegroom. Evelyn would take part in this pagan ritual, the joining of two men, two women. Truth be known, she'd enjoy once again experiencing the twin lovers stuffing her every orifice, bringing her to pleasure.
What she'd not like one bit was watching her husband dipping his randy wick in his brother's young bride. 'Twould make her blood boil to see Gavin caressing Meggie while her own soft flesh craved his mouth, the touch of his callused fingertips. Mayhaps...the cock cage should remain. He'd not fuck her, but then he couldn't fuck Meggie, either. He could only arouse them with his tongue, his hands.
Nay, 'twould never do. Evelyn could never more forego the incredible fullness that came with having that cock stuffing her cunt, spurting its hot seed deep into her womb. 'Twas good Gavin held the key, for he'd certainly dispense with that gift without delay if indeed he'd chosen to honor her gift by wearing it ere they wed.
Evelyn glanced again at Lord William's bride, trying not to compare their bodies but failing miserably. Her husband had gained a plump widowed pigeon, two years his senior, while his twin possessed an auburn-haired beauty still fresh and ripe for picking. Knowing she'd bought her bridegroom with land and titles did little to quell the sense of inadequacy that gripped Evelyn. Nothing to squelch the growing reluctance to share her man with one so fair and lovely.
They came. 'Twas not the time for trembling like an untried girl, which she certainly was not. Instead she'd pour out her growing feelings for Gavin in her touch, her kisses. In her enthusiastic participation in the ritual that meant so much to him and Will. With a deliberately lascivious expression, Evelyn raked her husband's and his brother's naked bodies with undisguised interest.
Mirror images, each tall and strong, each bearing bride-gifts in identical casks clad in gold and set with precious stones, Gavin and Will stood before Evelyn and Meggie, as naked as when they left their mother's womb but for the winking jewels in their cocks. Laughing, jesting knights and men-at-arms shouted bawdy suggestions as they ogled the brides their lord's eldest sons had taken this day.
Gavin's cock stood at attention, the glittering ring in its head glowing in the candlelight, its magnificent shaft encased in the cage Evelyn had ordered fashioned to ensure his faithfulness. Jewels winked at her from the studs that passed through his corona. Will's cock sparkled, too. He lacked the cage and the ring passing through his slit. Instead he had a jewel-crowned bar that entered the head of his swollen phallus on one side and emerged on the other. Accouterments Evelyn hadn't noted the other night when he'd introduced himself by kneeling at her back and plowing her ass with his big, hard sword.
Mmmm. Taking them both at once had given her a heady rush...a climax the likes of which she'd never known before. Still... Sir Gavin was her husband, bought and paid for. Share him with Will's bride? By God, only on her terms!
Evelyn dragged her gaze from Meggie's husband, settled it upon her own. "Like you what you see?" she asked him, taking care to look him in the eye. Hoping not to read longing for the fair Meggie there.
"Yes, wife. Sweep back the pale curtain that hides your bounty from my eyes. I'd see all of you. I'd have Will view your bounteous charms as well. 'Tis only fair, for I can plainly see his bride."
Vowing she'd not be stung by the inevitable comments some of the drunken guests would make about her girth, Evelyn did as Gavin bid, sweeping her pale locks over one shoulder, revealing her heaving breasts, her rounded belly and generous thighs. Her cunt creamed at the thought of once again becoming the filling in a sandwich fuck, taking two hard bodies, two rigid cocks pounding her ass, her cunt.
She wanted them both and yet...having them would mean she'd have to watch whilst Gavin joined Will in fucking the Scots maid.
Nay. She'd wed with Gavin. She'd have him to herself. His hungry eyes swept over her, swept the expected catcalls and insults from her mind. 'Twas no doubt about it. For all that her lord husband might chide her for having deceived him, he found her desirable. Even now his caged cock stood in salute not for his brother's beautiful bride, but for her.
Meggie looked at Evelyn, then shifted her gaze back to Will. Sweeping back her titian curls, she stood proudly, smoothly naked before his appreciative eyes. "Come, if ye see no flaws in me. I'd have ye consummate this marriage, fill the aching empty sheath between my thighs. I'd have ye first ere ye share me wi' yer bonny brother."
"I, too, would have my husband's fine cock all to myself ere we share." Evelyn reached out and caught Gavin's cock ring with one finger. "I see you chose to wear my gift. I like it."
Gavin glanced down at his trussed-up flesh and grimaced. "I do not, my lady." He tossed her the golden key. "I order you to remove it so we may get on with the business of fulfilling the vows we've made. As your husband, Madame, notwithstanding the fact I'm also Lord of Misrule."
Evelyn watched Will scoop Meggie easily up in his arms and toss her on the huge marriage bed. When they began to fuck, she averted her gaze. The men crowded in the solar doorway cheered. Evelyn hated it---the ritual bedding, the splitting asunder of a virgin bride by her husband while a drunken horde of his men watched and shouted ribald suggestions.
Fuckfests were well and good when all participated. Not when some watched and shouted obscenities at the participants. "Send the observers away, husband, and I will remove it. Then we may get on with the bedding. I'm no virgin whose blood need be attested to."
Gavin stepped closer, cupped her chin in his hand. The smile he bestowed on her surrounded her with warmth, like a velvet robe. "But I am a man whose cock has been caged by his lady. I'd have witnesses to its removal."
Agreeing that made sense, she knelt and fumbled with the tiny lock. For a moment Meggie's little cry distracted Evelyn, but she persevered. The crowd's cheer resounded in her ears when she knelt and unlocked the cage from Gavin's cock and balls. When she slid it off, she saw he'd discovered the use for the two largest rings she'd gifted him with today. The largest ringed his cock and ballocks, while the smaller encircled the base of his huge, swollen cock.
"I stand ready to bring you pleasure, my lady wife," he told her as a cheer went up from the assembled men. "Watch..."
Gavin raised Evelyn to her feet, then lifted her in his arms. He strained a bit, but steadied himself quickly and strode with her to the marriage bed. "Spread your legs, madame, that I may fuck you for our guests' pleasure. Then I will order them away and the fuckfest may begin."
Evelyn's cream flowed heavy despite her embarrassment at the prospect of taking her husband's huge ringed cock before the drunken wedding guests. When Gavin knelt between her legs and sank slowly into her cunt, he looked her in the eye.
"All right, my friends. The Lady Evelyn is mine in deed as well as words, as is Lady Margaret now my brother's true wife. As Lord of Misrule, I order you all to seek your own beds. Prepare for more festivities on the morrow!" Gavin's voice rang out, his authority unquestionable.
"Thank you, my lord."
"You are welcome. I'd not cause you discomfort, but our guests demanded that they be allowed to bear witness to our joining." Bracing his upper body on his elbows, he bent and brushed her lips with his own. "They are leaving now. And they'll not return."
Evelyn brushed a lock of dark hair off her husband's forehead. "I beg your forgiveness for my deception, Gavin. I'd not have it cast a pall on our marriage."
"'Tis all right, sweeting. 'Tis my pleasure to have found a bride who takes pleasure in the marriage bed. One who keeps my cock stiff and ready any time she's near." He laid his head on Evelyn's breast and drew a nipple into his mouth.
As he rocked in and out of her dripping cunt, she grew hotter and wetter with each stroke. "Oh yesss. Fuck me harder. Please."
Her clit tingled every time Gavin ground his hips and brushed it with the rigid base of his cock. God's blood, but having him fuck her like this---as though his whole mind centered on her---made her every reaction more intense. Hotter.
Vaguely her mind registered that Will was also moving on Meggie, his rhythm in perfect harmony with Gavin's. Meggie's little whimpers triggered her own ecstatic moans as the pressure built in her cunt, began spreading...bursting...blinding her with its intensity. Oh God in heaven, she was dying. Scalding waves of the most intense pleasure she'd ever known washed over her, made her gasp for breath.
Was that her scream? Or Meggie's? Evelyn was past thinking. Past anything but savoring the exquisite pleasure that flowed from Gavin's pulsating cock in her cunt, consumed her in a burst of delicious sensations. His shout, and the hard bursts of his seed into her womb set off yet another wave of intense pleasure...
\*
As the sun rose, illuminating the tower room he'd shared with Will since they left the nursery, Gavin lay between his wife and Will's. His cock throbbed in Meggie's mouth while he feasted on Evelyn's creamy cunt. The ruby-glass plug in her ass shone in the sunlight. At this moment he couldn't figure why he'd been so angry at her deception. Why it had taken so long for him to realize what a jewel he now possessed.
God's nightshirt, but he'd been given a prize. Ripe and buxom and hot-blooded as hell. Not to mention that she'd elevated him from knight to lord with the saying of their vows. On top of that, Gavin liked his bride. Enjoyed being with her outside their bedchamber as well as in it. Yes, he was one lucky man. Wanting to hear her scream with pleasure, he sucked her swollen clit between his teeth and flailed it with his tongue. Will had her mouth, tongue-fucking it the way he'd tongue-fucked Meggie's earlier.
Now Meggie sucked his cock, tangling her tongue in the ring when she licked the drops of lubrication from it. The way she clutched his ass cheeks, digging in with her nails while Evelyn held onto his waist, drove him wild. When Will plowed Meggie's cunt, she moved her mouth in that same rhythm on Gavin's cock.
Gavin plunged his tongue deep into Evelyn's cunt, savored her cream. His balls tightened as Meggie sucked him harder, deeper.
"My God, Meggie. I'm cominggg!" Will shouted.
Meggie clamped down on Gavin's cock, her whimpers reverberating on his distended flesh. He gasped at the delicious sensation, half withdrew the dildo from Evelyn's sweet ass and plunged it back in, hard, while he latched onto her clit with his mouth and sucked hard.
The first waves of his climax shook him. Shook them. Hot, hard jets of semen bounced off Meggie's throat, making her swallow. That motion triggered more spasms, more come. As Meggie swallowed the last of his come, Evelyn screamed out her pleasure. And Will collapsed onto Meggie, pressing her skinny body into Gavin's while he wrapped his arms about his wife's quaking thighs.
"Damn it, Will, roll over. Hold your wife and let me hold mine."
\*
"'Twill be the last time we all four share each other, I vow," Gavin told Evelyn later as she lay with him after Will and Meggie had left the room.
"Why, my lord husband? I find sharing exhilarating."
"Because I'd honor my vows?" The smile he gave her nearly took her breath away. "Nay. 'Tis that I'm greedy. I'd have my beautiful, buxom bride all to myself. Think one man can see to all your carnal needs, love?"
He called her "love". Did he mean it? Dared she admit she loved him, too? "We shall see, husband. May I assume you've truly forgiven me for my little deception on Christmas Eve?"
"I forgave you days ago." He looked at her, merriment and mischief showing in his dark eyes, his quirky grin. "I think, though, you need a lesson, so you won't try to deceive me again. Rise. Fetch yon riding whip from atop my trunk. I'll punish you now, and the deed will be hence forgotten."
Her milky ass cheeks felt soft as silk to Gavin as he positioned her across his thighs to take her punishment. "So pretty. So soft. Pity to turn them red and sore." Reluctantly, for he hated to hurt his love, he raised and lowered the crop once...twice...three times. Welts stared up at him, made him cringe at the thought he was hurting her.
"More. Punish me more, my lord."
He hit her again, harder this time. She yelped, but begged him to continue. Shifting the crop to his other hand, he reached between her legs, felt her honey flowing. "Mayhaps I'll use this in our loveplay since you like it so well."
"Oh, yesss. Please fuck me now. Fuck me hard and well."
Slowly he slid her onto the bed, face up, sliding between her thighs and looping her legs over his shoulders. "With pleasure. And with love. Open to me, wife, I'd fill you with my seed."
Evelyn sighed. "And with love. Always with love."
After she came, after she'd wrung the last drop of seed from his exhausted cock, Evelyn rolled onto her side and cupped his face between her soft hands. "I love you, too, my husband. Forever."
Summerfield Castle, Christmastide, 1179
'Twas Christmas Eve, a time for prayer and celebration---and revelry about to be presided over by his third son Henry, just knighted by his uncle ere he came home for the holiday. Earl Rolfe stretched his long legs before him, wondered if fourteen years hence he'd be having an iron maidens fit on Alisa, who now tugged on his knee, begging for a ride. Just yesterday he'd caught Henry and Alfred fucking with a willing serf girl in the hunting lodge their brothers used to use for some of their debauchery.
Rolfe stared into the flame, his mood reflective. Two years ago today he'd given Jasmine the daughter they'd wanted for years. Two years ago this blessed season, Gavin and Will had taken brides. And nearly two years ago, once the Epiphany had passed, they'd rid the northern marches of the scourge of Clan MacFarlane.
"Papa?"
"Yes, sweeting." Though he loved all his children, his little girl held a special place in his heart.
"Play wif' nef..."
"You want to play with your nephews? Ask your nanny to take you to them." Rolfe imagined his young namesake, just three months old, was partaking of nourishment from his mama's now-bounteous breasts, and that Gavin's twins would be wakening from their naps. "Run along now. I'd spend some time alone with your mama ere we go to the hall for the noontide meal."
"The season has her excited beyond all," he told Jasmine when she joined him on the settle before the fire. "Happy Christmas, my love."
"Yes. 'Tis happy indeed to have everyone home...and to know Gavin will be moving within an hour's ride once he rebuilds that rockpile Meggie's sire once called a castle."
Rolfe stroked Jasmine's thigh, as firm and slender now as it had been years ago when he took her as his leman and then his bride. "You cannot wait to have his twins nearby to spoil, as you spoil Will and Meggie's now. Admit it."
"All right. I do want them close to spoil them. But also so I may see how well the match you made for Gavin has turned out. It makes me happy to know it's not property but love that keeps a smile on my boy's face."
"'Tis strange. Motherhood has slimmed Evelyn while it's fattened Meggie." His cock twitching as he inhaled Jasmine's familiar scent, Rolfe slid his hand higher, caressed her slit through the layers of her shift and gown. "They change, whilst you bear my babes and stay as lovely as you were the day we met."
Turning into his embrace, Jasmine laughed. "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, love. It warms me to know you see me now as I was then---even though my reflection in the garden pool tells me otherwise. Come, let me show you how much I love you...how much I love how you love me."
Later, sated and content, Rolfe and Jasmine lay among the furs in their cozy bed. "Rolfe?"
"Yes, sweeting." He turned his head, met her sapphire gaze.
"I wonder if our twin sons still share each other's wives."
"What?" He'd explained their wedding night away as a one-time ritual understandable for brothers who'd shared their mother's womb.
"I've known since they weren't much older than Henry is now." She ran a teasing finger down his chest, stopping to tweak the rings in his nipples ere moving on to stroke his jeweled cock.
"That ended the day after their weddings, I believe. Like me, our sons seem content with the women they married."
"I suppose now all we must do is worry about Henry and Alfred," she said, cupping his balls and giving them a gentle squeeze.
Rolfe laughed. "I fear our worries about them will be naught, compared with what we'll face with Alisa when the time comes. 'Tis no way she can be her parents' daughter and not give us a trial."
"Mayhaps you should marry her off ere she's out of nappies, then."
"Or mayhaps not. I welcome the challenge of keeping our daughter from the hands of lechers like our sons." He noticed Jasmine's grin, decided to say it before she could. "And like me."
"Thank God, like you. We'd best rise and see to our family and guests. Rolfe, I love you now as I've loved you for twenty-four long years."
"I, too. I pray we'll have as many more."

