Purebred (10 page)

"Jeanne, that is quite enough!
Gracious, surely you are not jealous of Alonso
d'Anzeray?"

"He could give you what I
couldn't."

Isobel groaned, shaking her head. "My
dear Jeanne, I suspect there are not many men either who could give
me what he does. And you have known me many years. You are my only
confidant." She reached over the edge of the tub and stroked the
maid's soft hair. "You and I have shared much that he and I have
not. Ours is a special bond too. A different bond."

Finally Jeanne looked up again, her
eyes still damp. She sniffed. "Sometimes I just wish it was only us
still. You and I. As it's always been."

"But things change, Jeanne. It does
not mean I value you or your loyalty any less, just because
I...I..."

"You love him."

She cringed and quickly took her hand
back. "No."

Jeanne pursed her lips.

"It is not love," Isobel muttered.
"'Tis just a fancy. Lust. The excitement of something
new."

The maid shook her head slowly and
said solemnly, "'Tis love, my lady. I'm sorry to say it, but you
are in love with the devil known as Blackheart." She sighed heftily
again and clambered to her feet. "Good thing you've got me to put
the pieces back together again when the worthless good-for-naught
bastard has gone away."

Bemused, Isobel looked down at her
hands in the milky water. She was in love?

She was in love.

Just like that.

* * * *

He laid his hand on her belly, his
fingers spread wide. It did not feel as flat as usual, but her body
could merely be preparing for her monthly courses.

She was looking up at him from the
bed, and he knew she fought to keep her lips from smiling. The
green of her eyes was startling this evening, brilliant as emeralds
in a king's crown. Neptune's crown perhaps, he thought.

Alonso settled between her thighs and
lapped at her pouty sex. Hmm, herbs and lavender. She always tasted
sweet on his tongue, but tonight more so than ever.

"How many times must I tell you her
pleasure matters not, d'Anzeray," the Baron exclaimed wearily from
his chair. Tonight he was sprawled in it, half asleep apparently.
His eyelids drooped worse than usual and although he continually
propped his head up on the knuckles of one hand, it kept lolling
forward as if he might suddenly fall out of the chair. "You can't
possibly enjoy eating her cunt as much as that. Get on with the
business at hand. There is no need for the woman to
climax."

So he knelt up and held his cock to
her entrance. He was already erect, fluid leaking from his crest,
the taste of her pussy having aroused him quickly. But the Baron
was still dissatisfied.

"Why can't you use the belt on her
again as you did before? She needs it. I want to hear her cry out
again. I fear she's liking it too much. Turn the bitch
over."

Before he could do anything, Isobel
rolled over onto her belly, presenting her bottom for a
spanking.

Slouching in his chair, the Baron
yawned loudly. "Punish her, d'Anzeray, for being a haughty little
slattern. I want to see plentiful red marks on her skin before you
fuck her tonight."

Alonso didn't even need to slide a
bolster under her hips for she lifted her arse for him and if his
eyes did not deceive she'd just wriggled it slightly, taunting
him.

He cupped his balls and squeezed. Had
to try to hold off or he might come before he got inside her and
the Baron would not appreciate that waste at all.

"I see you need a spanking, Lady
Isobel," he growled.

She parted her legs even wider and
arched her back.

Damn he wanted that arse. He'd
fingered it, tongued it, even used the end of a candle in it — at
her husband's urging — while he fucked her pussy, but he'd never
yet put his cock up her anus. That, of course, would be another
waste of semen in the mind of his employer.

He began to spank her arse cheeks hard
with his flat hand. Behind him, the Baron laughed croakily,
drowsily. Alonso could see the moisture between her labia. She
liked this, but her husband apparently had no idea of his wife's
sexual needs so he would not know that spanking, rather than
punishment, was just further arousal for Isobel. Alonso pinched her
arse and that made her yelp.

No comment from the Baron.

He spanked her again and her bottom
bounced under his hand. The skin was getting warm. He heard her
panting, saw the little squirm as she pushed her sex into the bed
and ground on the sheet, making a wet patch with her
dew.

Surely the Baron would note that and
realize she was enjoying her "punishment".

But still no comment.

Unable to resist the sight of her
bright pink cunny dripping delicious nectar, Alonso bent his head
and licked her rapidly.

To his surprise there was still no
admonishment from her husband.

His cock was marble hard, aching with
need. Alonso sucked her nether lips into his mouth and heard her
moan. He ringed his cock with the fingers of one hand and stroked
it slowly, trying to calm it down and hold off the need to spend.
His tongue swept up into her arse crack and she giggled.

Finally he raised his head and looked
back at Louvet.

The man was fast asleep in his chair,
head on one side, mouth open and snoring lightly.

He thought he might have heard a
herald of angel's song. Grabbing a greasy chicken skin from the old
man's platter, Alonso rubbed it into her arse crack, then tossed it
to the floor.

"I'm coming in your arse tonight,
Isobel," he whispered breathlessly.

She got up on her knees, but he pushed
her back down and forced his way into that tight hole. Reaching
under her, he grabbed her titties and squeezed as he rutted
frantically between the cheeks of her tight bottom.

He thought he'd died and gone,
inexplicably, to heaven. The sensations rocking through his body
were like none he'd ever experienced. He fucked her wildly,
savagely. And she gasped with pleasure, pushing her bottom against
his groin, her hands cupped over his where he fondled her tender
breasts.

He came hard and kept on coming,
grinding into her. She shuddered and fell back to the bed, moaning
and half-laughing.

When Alonso finally pulled out of her
anus, his cum dripped thickly down her crack and stained the sheet
below.

"How dare you?" she whispered, flushed
and starry-eyed as she turned over.

He grinned and gestured with a jerk of
his head toward her sleeping husband. "How could I forfeit the
opportunity, my sweet?"

Isobel glanced over and smiled,
relieved.

They lay down together again and
kissed. Another opportunity not to be ignored.

He slid his arms around her and pulled
her close. "'Tis good to lie in a bed with you."

She tilted her head back and looked at
him quizzically, candle light dancing in her large eyes.

"Just to lie here," he clarified
softly, "and put my arms around you."

"Such nonsense you speak."

He planted a kiss to the tip of her
haughty nose. "Do you think you are with child, Isobel?"

"Yes." It was unequivocal.

His heart swelled.
Although he had considered one day having a child of his own, as
all men did, it was now a reality. He was a young man who had known
a full life, often a violent one. But this thing that had happened
was peaceful, calming, bringing clarity to his mind and his being.
It was a good, bright light that shone with hope for the future.
For
their
future.

"You will leave," she added
suddenly.

"No."

"Your purpose here is served. My
husband has no further need of you."

But
she
did. Alonso said nothing,
knowing she would only argue.

Moments later her husband stirred, his
sleep but temporary. Sadly.

"See how you bore me now," Louvet
exclaimed angrily. "I fall asleep watching you mount the wench.
'Tis time someone else took your place."

Alonso climbed off the bed and wiped
himself on a damp rag from the washbasin. Her husband was leaning
forward to inspect Isobel's pussy, as he always did, for he liked
to watch the seed trickling out of her. His fleshy, greasy hands
were clasped around her ankles, holding them apart while he
examined the sticky remnants of that evening's sport.

Knowing he had to act quickly before
her husband chose to invite one of his own soldiers into bed with
Isobel, he cleared his throat and said quite casually, "As it
happens, my lord, two of my brothers have just arrived today and
they camp tonight in the forest. With your permission I would bring
them to the manor tomorrow."

That cheered the old fool
up.

Isobel looked at him with those bright
green eyes, but she kept her countenance unreadable. Of course she
was wise not to let Louvet observe any excitement in her face, but
her husband was too busy studying her cunny, in any case, to note
that her nipples had tightened into lusty little peaks
again.

* * * *

He had accepted the position of stud
because he wanted to claim Isobel's body and with his usual boyish
arrogance, his lust for winning, did not care how he did it. There
was also the fee to be considered, of course. But now that she
believed herself to be bearing his child, Alonso was forced to
examine more thoroughly what he had done and the consequences of
it.

The child was not Louvet's, and he
could not bear the thought of that sad excuse for a man raising his
son. Or daughter.

Nor could he tolerate the idea of
never seeing Isobel again.

So they had called him Blackheart. It
did not mean he had none, did it?

He rode into the forest the next day
and found his brothers, Dominigo and Ramon. They had come in answer
to his message. As usual he knew he could rely upon them. In their
family it was one for all and all for one.

Chapter Eight

When Isobel entered the Baron's
chamber and found the three brothers waiting for her, she was glad
of the extra cup of wine drunk at dinner. Alonso was correct when
he told her that his brothers were all very similar in looks — all
dark and well-hewn. One of them, however, was larger and taller. In
fact he made the chamber appear smaller just by standing in it.
This one was introduced to her as Dominigo, and he had curious
silver grey eyes like none she'd ever seen before on a human. He
took her hand in his great paw and kissed her fingers. The other
brother was named Ramon, and he shared Alonso's dark brown eyes. He
had a distinctly mischievous expression upon his face, caused
perhaps by the dent of a boyish dimple when he smiled.

In their powerful presence she had
almost overlooked her husband, who sat in his usual chair, dressed
tonight in his best robes.

"Aren't you lucky, wench?" he snapped
at her. "Three d'Anzerays to cover you this evening. Let's hope we
have success." He gestured at the bed, and Alonso led her to it.
Ramon slipped her shift down over her shoulders while Dominigo
unbraided her hair. It was like having three devoted handmaids, she
mused.

Isobel had never had such attention
heaped upon her. She would relish every moment.

Again, Louvet croaked out his rules,
but no one was listening much to him. There was no need. It was
evident that Alonso had filled his brothers in already.

They surrounded her with their heat
and strength, but she did not feel threatened by it. There was an
odor of sun-baked leather that was not unpleasant. Certainly she'd
smelled worse on men. Their faces, browned by the summer and
possibly by years spent in other climates, were at least clean, if
not shaved smooth. Their breath was freshened with mint and cloves.
Efforts to please her had been made in advance, she
realized.

For a big man, Dominigo was gentle.
The skin of his hands was by no means smooth, but he touched her
with reverence, as if she was a priceless sculpture. His palms
swept over her thighs and then between them, and Isobel shivered
with restless anticipation. At the same time as the elder brother
explored her sex, parting and stroking her tender folds, another
pair of hands cupped her breasts from behind. Long fingers tweaked
her nipples.

Alonso lay back across the bed,
rubbing some kind of oil on his erect penis that made it gleam in
the candlelight. He beckoned with one crooked finger and his
brothers lifted her between them, carrying her to him. Dominigo
spread her legs and she was lowered onto the waiting cock, but not
as she expected. Turned to face her husband, it was not her pussy
Alonso filled, but her anus. She expected to hear her husband
complain, for seed would be wasted there, but he was apparently so
transfixed by the sight of all three brothers' cocks erect that he
simply stared. It was, indeed, a sight to behold for they were tall
and proud, magnificent specimens.