The Barbarian (17 page)

Once again she
closed her mouth over his erection and sucked, working up and down, caressing
with her tongue, tugging with her lips. She was too aroused to stop even when
he cried out that he was about to explode. This time she had the power, the
control. Turning her body she placed her knees astride his face and lowered her
pussy. At first she kept her sex a few inches above him, swaying her hips,
taunting him while she continued her sucking, but Stryker could not stand that
for long. He wrapped an arm around her hips and pulled her down onto his face.
She felt his mouth open wide, taking her whole pussy in at once. His growl
vibrated through the walls of her cunt and then his tongue lapped inside her,
tickling her hidden pearl until she wanted to scream. He kept his arm around
her, not letting her up, so she likewise held him around the thighs, while he
bucked like a feral pony that had never before known a saddle.

In one last
attempt to stop her swallowing his seed, he grabbed her hair and pulled, but it
was too late for Stryker to hold back. Feet pressed flat to the floor, he
lifted his groin, pumping into her throat. Spending hard.

Ami feasted
greedily, enjoying every drop she forced out of him while the waves of her own
climax thundered through her and creamed into his mouth.

****

He used a slick
ointment to ready his cock and she waited on her hands and knees before him,
submitting to this act she would have thought debasing only days earlier. Now
it was her turn to submit and let him take charge. He ran a finger down the
crack of her arse and then held her cheeks wide apart. She felt her face heat
up, knowing he studied her so intimately, and buried her face in her arms on
the fleece.

"Will it
hurt?" she gasped out.

"Shhh."
He rubbed a fingertip, covered in more ointment, over her tight anus.
"Don't hold your breath. Relax your body. Don't tighten your
muscles."

Ami tried to obey.
He spread her knees a little wider and positioned himself behind her. His hairy
thighs stroked the back of her legs. He had told her to relax, but his muscles
were taut. Then she felt something pushing at her anus. Again he urged her to
breath steadily. "This is just my finger," he told her,
"stretching you some for our games to come."

She wasn't sure
she would like this, but he seemed to think she would. "I suppose I must
trust you."

"Yes."
He leaned over and kissed her spine, then swept her hair aside and kissed the
back of her neck. "I love you. I will only proceed until you tell me to
stop." His lips gently moved over the scars on her back and it was even
more soothing than the apothecary's potion.

She nodded, her
eyes closed.

Slowly his finger
entered that tiny hole. She pressed back instinctively and his heavy balls
smacked into her vulva. She knew he was erect already, his marble-hard phallus
tapping her bottom when he arched over her and pushed his finger deeper into
her back passage.

The sensation was
very odd, but she bore it while he moved his finger inside her, turning it
slowly. With his other hand he stroked her pussy and then two fingers slid
between her labia. Now she was plugged in both holes. Ami opened her eyes.

Oh, the flames
began now, puttering to life from a low smolder. He had thrown kindling on it.
The finger in her anus moved in and out at a much slower pace while his other
hand fucked her pussy with more confidence. Her cream flowed and she knew he
must feel it coating his fingers. At that point he deemed her ready. He
withdrew from her bottom and her quinny, but it was a brief emptiness she
suffered. Now he aimed his cock into the crevice, using both hands to hold her
cheeks, his fingers sticky, pressing into her flesh, keeping her still.

As instructed, Ami
breathed deeply, slowly. Her husband's penis pushed through the tight rim of
muscle and it burned uncomfortably for just a moment. Then he was beyond, his
rod half inside her body.

He swore through
gritted teeth and then eased further, until she made a sound of part anxiety,
part sheer need.

Carefully grinding
out a slow movement, Stryker began to fuck her arse.

The burning
lessened and was replaced by a hot heaviness in her sex. She was dripping wet.
Every moan he spat out above her, she knew how much he was enjoying this ride
and it increased her own arousal until she was light-headed, dizzy. He probably
could have done anything to her by then.

"Fuck
me," she cried out, head flung back, body arched, submitting to his
ravishment like a bitch in heat.

With one hand he
reached for her pussy and found the sopping wetness he'd teased out of her.
"My Lady Lusty," he panted, squeezing and patting her labia with
quick taps that sent her over the edge into the blissful abyss.

While she was
still floating, he came with a jerk, thudding into her with a bestial roar that
must have echoed around his manor.

People would hear.

Good. Let them all
hear. She would gladly couple with her husband in front of them if he wanted.

Ami knew then that
she would never get enough of this man and there was nothing she would ever
deny him again

****

She sat facing
him, her thighs on either side of his hips, her cunny sheathing his sword fully
on every downward motion, releasing it again on each lift. He held her bottom,
guiding the pace, moving her up and down. Stryker licked her nipples when she
presented them for his mouth, her elegant hands cupped around those splendid
orbs. Offerings from the gods, he mused.

His lady wife was
enjoying herself. He knew now because she smiled.

Opening his mouth
wider, he took her right breast in and suckled like a babe at the teat. She had
the most perfect breasts he'd ever thrust his cock between. Her skin was still
sticky where he'd rammed his cock earlier, fucking the valley made when he
pushed her tits together with his hands and she lay on her back. Her breasts
were just full enough and soft enough to jiggle, but not too large to sag as
she grew older. Remembering Rolf's advice to him, he complimented her on their
beauty and she laughed.

"I'm glad you
like them," she muttered, slightly flushed.

"When you
nurse my babe, they will be fuller, even riper," he told her.

"I suppose
so."

Stryker shyly
confessed that he looked forward to sucking them then too, sampling her milk.

"You get
ahead of yourself. I am not with child yet."

He grinned
cockily. "You soon will be, Ami." Thus he set about ensuring it was
so, laying her back on the fleece and thrusting, worshipping her tits with his
tongue, lips, and even his eyelashes, until she screamed with pleasure and her
cunt squeezed and pulled on his spurting cock. He thrust again, even harder,
pressing on the gate of her womb, and felt the warmth of her body meld with
his. Silk to steel, rose to thistle, lady to barbarian.

****

By the evening of
their neighbor's Yuletide feast at Lyndower, the snow had melted somewhat and
only a few fine dustings had fallen since. They rode together across the moor
with a gift for Dominic Coeur-du-Loup's castle—a large red and gold tapestry
throw which was actually part of Ami's furnishings brought with her on her
travels. She was happy to give it up. After all, as she said to Stryker, they
could not go empty-handed to the blessing feast.

As Elsinora had
mentioned, there were several high-ranking members of the Norman hierarchy in
attendance. Guy Devaux, Lord of Wexford, a rich property to the east, was there
with his young Saxon wife Deorwynn. Their marriage had been quite a scandal a
few years ago. Then there was Renard De Robynet, one of King William's favored
knights, who had brought his wife Jisella along—a beautiful, mysterious,
silver-eyed lady who could apparently commune with spirits. And finally there
were faces Ami recognized at once—her cousin Emma who had married Raedwulf of
Wexford, the Lady Deorwynn's brother. Raedwulf, or "Wulf" as he was
known, was one of the husbands to whom Ami was once sent. He had, of course,
turned out to be in love with her cousin Emma instead.

Thankfully,
Ami could now think with a
smile, holding Stryker's large hand in hers and squeezing tightly.

There was also her
uncle to be faced. Giles Du Barry arrived with great pomp to assess the
viability of her match to Stryker Bloodaxe and decide whether or not he would
abide by his agreement. The vile man enjoyed moments such as these, when he
thought he held power over people’s lives and happiness.

"You look ...
pale, Amias, thin and drawn," he sighed, sitting in a great carved chair
in the hall at Lyndower. “I am not sure this place suits you. It is too wild
perhaps."

"You are
wrong, sir. The place suits me very well."

He raised a thin
eyebrow. "If you are sure."

"I am."

His shoulders
heaved. "I do not know. Perhaps we might yet find better for you. The Duke
of Montagu has just lost his third wife. He is amenable to meeting you, and he
can provide far more for you, niece."

"No. Thank
you." She was quite done with being passed around. "I will stay here.
And since I have missed my courses already, I very much doubt the Duke of
Montagu will wish to take me on, with another man's child flourishing in my
belly."

"Already?"
He sneered at Stryker. "You wasted no time."

"Indeed I did
not. You no longer have your niece's maidenhead to barter. I saw to that."

"How ...
gallant." Du Barry tapped his beringed fingers on the arm of the chair.
"Well, Bloodaxe, had you waited to impregnate the woman I could have taken
her off your hands and sent her elsewhere." Clearly he'd found bigger fish
for his net since he sent Ami there.

"I don't want
her off my hands," Stryker replied.

"But
circumstances prevent me from offering you the full dowry as arranged. I'm
afraid I—"

"I care not,
Du Barry. I would not take a sou from a man who beats a woman. If I ate food
bought by your coin it would choke me like a mouthful of thorns."

Ami was shocked.
She'd never heard anyone talk to her uncle thus.

Neither had Du
Barry. He sat straighter and his tongue flicked out over dry lips, like that of
a serpent. "I do as I please with a woman in my care. Much as you do, I'm
sure." His heavily-lidded gaze swept Ami with prurient curiosity.
"She requires regular punishment for her bouts of defiance, as you will
know by now."

"He does not
need to punish me," Ami spoke up mischievously. "He has other ways to
make me behave."

Stryker,
transparently trying not to laugh, held out his arm. She took it, curtseyed to
her uncle, and they walked out together.

"I thought
you needed my dowry," she whispered from the corner of her lips.

"True. I
suppose I'll always be poor now. Shall we ask for that tapestry back?"

Ami smiled.
"You are not poor.
We
are not
poor. We are the richest two people in the world."

****

They walked up the
hill to join the other guests at the half-finished
castle
of
Dominic
Coeur-du-Loup
.
 
There was a bonfire, mulled wine and a roasted, suckling pig—all
successfully chasing away the winter chill. The stars were bright that evening,
pricks of light in a velvet robe of midnight black.

"Your
favorite color," Stryker observed. "One day I shall have a gown made
for you, peppered with pearls like stars and we shall remember this
night."

She planted a kiss
on his cheek. "Thank you, my love." But Ami had a feeling she would
never forget a single evening in his company and would not need a new gown to
remind her.

The little monk
from
Exeter
—the same who had officiated at the
marriage—now gave the blessing over the
new
castle
.

As the circle of
folk stood around the bonfire, Ami noticed that Jisella, Renard de Robynet's
beautiful wife, had walked away from the others and was kneeling on the snowy
earth.

Ami walked over to
her and saw that she was digging through the layer of snow and into the hard
ground with a sharp spear of flint. When she asked why, Jisella looked up with
tears caught in her lashes.

"I am leaving
a mark for Remy's spirit to find when he comes home."

"Remy?"
She shivered, drawing her mantle tighter around her body as a strong breeze
suddenly flew up from the sea and tugged on the fur-trimmed hem.

"My husband's
brother. A fine soldier and a good man. I loved him." Jisella unwrapped a
silk scarf and showed her a necklace inside it, made of horn and some sort of
metal. "This belonged to Remy. He left it with me for safe-keeping the
last time he went to battle. He said he would come back to fetch it." She
folded it up again with great reverence and placed it in the hole she'd scratched
into the hard earth. "He never did come back, but I know he will. One day.
Now he has a place to come home to."