Warprize (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards, 5)(MFMMMMMM) (13 page)

Read Warprize (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards, 5)(MFMMMMMM) Online

Authors: Georgia Fox

Tags: #erotica, #orgy, #historical, #menage, #historical erotica, #anal, #multiple partners, #mfm, #medieval, #branding, #mff, #medieval erotica, #georgia fox, #public exhibition, #seven brides for seven bastards, #mfmmmmmm, #twisted erotica publishing

Since that first evening he'd seen her
strength, her determination and that had deepened his attraction to
this woman beyond anything he'd ever felt for another. The truth
was that to lose her would be intolerable for him, he realized. She
was too special.

She, however, clearly thought he was
interfering where he was not needed. "I have managed long enough
without you, d'Anzeray. I do not want to be a woman."

He frowned. "But you are one. You were
born that way."

Snatching her hands from his she
folded her arms. "I shall refuse you."

Eyeing her warily— particularly that
stubborn mouth— he said, "And what form shall this refusal
take?"

Her eyes sparked with venom. "Oh, I
think you know."

"You,
my
wench, mean to keep me from your
body, eh? You think—"

"Try to master me with that cock and
see what becomes of it."

Dom took a step toward her and she
stamped hard on his foot, then swung a punch into his stomach. It
winded him because he was unprepared. He did not want to hurt her
and was still considering his next move when a second fist hit his
jaw.

At that point he decided she was a
danger to herself. Still gasping for breath he seized her wrists
with one hand and then secured them firmly together with a belt.
While she shrieked colorful curses at him again, refusing to be his
woman or anyone else's, he began to remove her clothes. The cold
air, he reasoned, would soon silence her. She'd need her energy to
stay warm. And she couldn't go running off naked.

Besides, he wanted to look at her body
again. After all these bites and bruises, she owed him that
much.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

"My feet are cold, you bastard," she
hissed.

"You may have your boots back when you
start being sweeter to me. When you admit that I have saved you
from certain death. Until then...."

He had left her completely naked,
burning her clothes in the campfire. If she wanted warmth, he said
smugly, she would have to snuggle under his new mantle, with him.
This was his way of teaching her gratitude, so he said.

Silver moonlight shone upon her
breasts and thighs, where his gaze touched her hungrily. She
shifted, trying to hide herself against the tree to which he'd tied
her.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"No," she snapped.

"I don't want you getting skinny. Now
you are to be my wife, you must eat well."

"I'm not going to be anybody's damn
wife, you villain!"

He sat before her, this murderer of
innocent men, this seducer of innocent maids, and noisily consumed
the contents of the food bag. Cedney shivered. She did not know how
long she could withstand the winter's cold without clothing, but
she could not think of thanking him. He had stolen her away from
her manor, from her familiar comforts, from her destiny, the only
life she'd known, from the promise to her beloved father. Why would
she thank him for that?

She was a leader of men, not a slave
girl, not a woman to be subjugated and forced.

Oh, but the soles of her feet hurt
from the cold ground.

"It might snow again," he observed,
his gaze skimming the starlit sky through the bare branches
overhead.

"Give me my boots," she
hissed.

"If you say,
Thank you, Dominigo
. And
smile."

She hopped on one foot. "Very well.
Thank you," she spoke through gritted teeth, "Dominigo." He did not
have to know what she thanked him for, did he? She could be
thanking him for having a big cock and an equally large, stupid,
bull-like head.

He looked at her. "And smile," he
prompted, licking his fingers.

Cedney grimaced, now hopping on her
other foot.

Dominigo stood and walked over to the
tree. He crouched and slowly he lifted her legs, one after the
other, and pulled on her fleece-lined boots. Ah, the
relief.

Then he slid his hands up her legs,
brushed his fingers over her pubic mound and higher. He rose up to
face her and cupped her bare breasts in his hands. "Now ask me to
taste your titties and I'll let you warm up in my newly acquired
mantle."

"Pig."

"You were more eager before, Cedney. I
remember how keen you were to welcome me in when you bent over your
bed and dropped your breeches."

"That was different." She turned her
face away as he gently fondled her breasts and ran his thumbs over
the chill-hardened nipples. "That was on my terms."

"You like to be in charge."

"Of course." Why not? She always had
been. Like a man.

He had taken that from her. Is this
what made her most angry?

Dom lowered his dark head and took her
left nipple between his lips. She moaned as his hand slid back down
over her stomach and between her legs. His mouth fastened onto her
and suckled fiercely while his hand explored, one strong, demanding
finger prying between her pussy lips. Now she knew he would feel
her wetness, despite the fact that she sulkily wanted to deny her
arousal. A woman's body was too weak and gave her away.

With a soft 'pop' his lips released
her scarlet nipple and then he circled that blossoming, wet bud
with his tongue. His eyes met hers.

"I'm going to fill your cunny with my
seed, Cedney. Fill it until it overflows with my
essence."

She said nothing for fear that her
voice would quake and betray her further. He now had two fingers
inside her, sliding through her moist valley, teasing her hidden
pearl until she moved her hips instinctively,
helplessly.

Well, she thought crossly, this
woman's body might betray her by giving him what he wanted, but her
speech would not obey. He would get no soft sighs of devotion from
her.

"I'll fill your belly with babes and
these glorious tits with milk." He put his mouth to her other
breast now and sucked just as hard, working the nipple with his
lips, flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth until she
wanted to scream. Three fingers were now pressing in and out of her
cunt, bending up inside her, tugging her lower body away from the
tree. He lifted her until her legs were around his waist and then,
with her arms still tied to the rough trunk, his mouth still
clamped to her breast, he entered her savagely with his
cock.

From this angle it seemed to pierce
her even deeper than before and she squealed, gasping.

He fucked her hard, his breeches
lowered to his knees, his manhood plunging in and out so rapidly
that she could not catch her breath. Her buttocks shook and his
fingers dug into the trembling flesh. She was no longer cold, but
her wrists scraped on the twisted belt with which he'd tied them
and her hair caught on the tree bark. Back and forth went his
mouth, grunting wildly as he moved from one nipple to the other,
keeping them both wet, both aching, her full breasts jostling in
his face.

Inside her cunny his hard cock
stretched her, plundered her treasure with a roughness that should
have hurt. Perhaps if she was not so sopping wet it would have.
Each time it slid in and out, it touched some part of her that
she'd never before known existed. She bit down on her tongue,
holding in the cries of bliss that wanted out.

"I'm going to spend now, Cedney.
Inside you. All the way inside you. You're mine. Your pussy is
mine."

He paused and lifted her legs even
higher, until her knees almost reached his wide shoulders. Slowly
he withdrew the length of his rod and she felt the heat of it
against her thigh.

"Look down, Cedney, at what I have for
you," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Tell me you need it. Tell me
you want it."

The head of his cock was dark and
sticky, gleaming in the moonlight. It looked the size of a ripe
plum.

"Tell me what you want," he urged,
tapping it against her swollen nether lips and then her inner
thighs again. His dick felt heavy, she thought. Hot, hard and
heavy. Even Torvig the Boaster would be envious and silenced by the
sight of it. "These sacks of mine are full of spunk," he whispered.
"And it wants to fill you. Fill your beautiful woman's body, your
cunt, your womb."

"My legs hurt," she gasped out, dizzy
with need but still fighting. Still refusing to obey
him.

He lowered her legs only slightly and
hooked both over his left arm, but still kept them up
high.

"Mayhap my lady wants this cock in her
arse?" He poked the knob into the crack of her bottom and she
moaned.

"No!" It would surely split her in
two, she thought. It was almost too big for her pussy to take, let
alone her anus.

"No? Then what? Here?" He moved his
cock again, smacking it stickily against her throbbing labia. With
her legs held together it felt even more arousing.

"Yes," she cried out, unable to hold
back. "Yes. Fuck me there, you bastard."

He chuckled deeply. A moment later she
felt his cock pushing into her again. He still held her legs
together, bent over the crook of his arm and his erection speared
her from another new angle, almost sideways. This time she had no
power, no purchase. He rammed her and she was entirely at his
mercy.

With a howl he flooded into her, every
inch of his staff buried in her cunny, his balls hard against her
vulva, throbbing with semen as it was released in a rhythmic pulse
and shot into her defenseless body.

Dear God, he had impregnated her. She
felt it happen.

Could it be possible to know the very
moment of conception?

Well, that was it then. He had not
only made her a woman, he had made her a mother. There was no going
back.

That, no doubt, was entirely this
reckless bastard's filthy plan. He had stripped her naked, removing
all her former identity. Now Cedney Bloodwynne had a new
destiny.

 

* * * *

 

He showed her the box of treasures he
had collected from her chamber before he kidnapped her. "I must
have some dowry," he told her with a grin, "and since you offered
this to me before—"

"That was meant as a reward for
keeping my secret."

Sliding his arms around her, he kissed
her on the mouth, slowly, lingering over it the way he would over
any honeyed treat. "Now you are free of that secret, so there is no
more need to keep it."

"Free?" she scoffed. "Do you not mean
to keep me in bondage?"

He leaned back, frowning. "No. You are
not my slave."

"But you took me as if I am your
captive."

Chagrinned, he admitted it was the
only way he could think to manage the matter of his desire for her,
and his concern. But in Dom's eyes, the lie begun by her father had
become her prison. He had not made her a captive; he had released
her from a dungeon. Now he must teach her how to live free and
happy.

"And you sent for Torvig that night, I
assume, to bed Lady Rosamund and take my place."

"The hen needed a cockerel. I heard he
was the best in the manor."

She scowled then, her proud feathers
ruffled.

"Only the best at fucking, my lady,"
he added, smiling. "You were by far the best at everything else, so
your fyrdsmen informed me before the hunt. Before it saw it with my
own eyes."

Shaking her head she muttered, "Now
Torvig will take over. He has waited for this chance."

Dom stroked a hand through her hair,
relishing the whispering kiss of softness against his roughened
skin. "I know you will miss your old home, but now you will have a
new one. And with me you can be the woman you were born to
be."

Her eyes looked deep into his and the
blue warmed gently. "I can be myself at last," she spoke quietly,
almost as if she dare not let the words out. "If I even know what
that is."

"You will," he promised her, clasping
her hand tightly and drawing it to his lips.

So he rode on with his naked woman
wrapped in his arms, under the mantle they shared. He allowed her
to keep the boots on her feet. Apart from that she needed only his
body heat to keep her from the cold. And the occasional good
fucking along their route.

"I like you naked," he observed to her
as they stopped on the second night of their journey. "I might keep
you that way."

"But then everyone will see me
thus."

He grinned. "So? You have nothing to
hide, and I like to show you off. I am here to protect you from
unwanted attentions. Your body should be admired. It is splendidly
ripe."

She frowned. "I am not
fruit!"

So he set about disproving that by
pushing her onto her back there and then eating her cunny as if it
was indeed an extremely juicy peach. Dom knew he could probably eat
her pussy six or seven times a day, such was his hunger for her
taste, but that would be greedy and he was mindful of the fact that
he must share her once he got her home. He could not be overly
possessive. They would all want some.

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