“Wild pigs. They escaped from a farm and bred. A useful addition to the dinner plate.” He kicked his heels and picked up the pace.
She glanced up. The sunbeams had broken through the canopy and lit up his brow and nose. The light magnified the firm jawline and thin lips. It was hard to believe that those lips were the reason why she was unafraid of his stern demeanour. He was capable of gentle kisses and nips, and yet, he had nearly punished her in the middle of a forest. Was he dangerously impulsive?
“Why did you want to spank me?” she asked.
“Want to?” He lowered the line of his sight and stared at her, bemused. “Why would I want to? I do so for your benefit, not mine. And it is discipline that you need. You’re far too haughty, young lady.”
Haughty! “You’re arrogant, sir.”
For a second, she thought he might sling her over his saddle. She held her breath. Gervais tossed back his head and laughed loudly.
“I am. You’re quite correct. It is a failing, but it will do me no harm.” The laughter died away. “It is your safety that concerns me, and if I have to behave inappropriately to maintain it, I shall. Now lean back and enjoy the fresh air and bird song. It is why you came out for a ride, is it not?”
She had forgotten the pleasure of riding, and with it was a new experience—the close confines of Gervais’s body shielding her. She rested her head on his broad chest, and to her surprise, detected a heartbeat. It was not a steady slow beat she heard, but a fast, adventurous one.
She reconsidered his remarks and concluded he had lied to her. He had wanted to spank her, and the excitement remained palpable. What the realisation meant she wasn’t sure. She might have to test her theory, but first she needed to determine if it was her presence that had quickened his pulse and not simply the thrill of the hunt.
“Where is your kill?” she asked, aware that he only carried a bow and arrow.
“I left it to be collected by Lionel. He knows where to find it. I don’t wish to have carcasses hanging from my horse. The smell deters other animals from approaching. And if you want to know why I have no dogs wit
h me, then they too can be a nuisance. Noisy and excitable. I prefer the quiet hunt, to stalk my prey closely. So closely, they can see my eyes at the last moment.”
His arms tensed as he spoke and she knew that hunting was a passion for him, something that might compete with her.
“Will we dine together later?” she asked.
“Yes. In my private chamber.” Without Lionel or Jacob, possibly the only other two occupants of the castle of rank.
“And then...” She slid her hand under his cloak and picked at the buckle of his belt.
“Ah, you wish to know what I have planned for your pleasure.” The trees were opening; soon they would be in the opening and in view of the castle walls high above.
She stayed quiet and still.
“I shall fuck you,” he said genially. “On my bed. You’ll be brought to my bed, and kneel on all fours, and I shall take you from behind. It is the position of supplication, and one that you shall learn to adopt in my company.”
Brought to him! How, and by whom? Her breasts tingled and to hide the shame of her blush, she burrowed her face into the fur lining of his cloak.
Gervais was no fool. “And the night after that, you will be on your knees by the fire, sucking my cock, until you are exhausted. You need to learn endurance, stamina. The hard fuck against the wall is a good way to test the strength of your fine legs. Something for another night. Sufficient planning for you?”
She gripped the pommel. The storm of butterflies in her belly was shameful, and yet, Gervais showed no embarrassed at uttering such uncouth words. He described what should be humiliating scenes of submission on her part. But to her silly mind and fanciful imagination, it was alluring. Desirable.
Gervais’s heart betrayed him. When he called to the two horses to trot faster, so did the beats of his heart. The hooves failed to hide what she heard. Perhaps being impulsive was no bad thing for either of them.
Chapter Fourteen
Three nights of fucking her. Just three, and the Zalim was close to bursting forth. If only she understood how powerful the need in him was. What she had achieved was remarkable, and he was full of praise for her, especially the long spell before the fire when he had kept her mouth on his cock. The first night, as promised, he had sent for her, instructing the iron-faced Lionel to bring her to his chamber dressed only in a robe.
He had whipped the robe off her back and pointed at the bed. She had remembered the position and pointed her bottom at him. The generous buttocks were faintly discoloured, but when he touched them, the inflamed heat of the spanking was gone.
The joy of fucking her that way was to have her hair in one hand, and her slender waist gripped in the other. Held rock steady by his firm grasp, he had the means to pound her. But then there had been periods of tenderness when he had rocked playfully in and out of her pussy, teasing the hole with his half-thrusts, while underneath, he cupped her breasts.
Coming was something she excelled at, and he was happy to see her lost in the thrall of an orgasm—as long as she kept his cock entertained.
The second night, ah, had been stupendous, and she had worked hard at sucking him. He’d rewarded her by letting her lie belly up over his lap, her legs adrift and in that vulnerable position he’d played with her wet cunt until she had been flushed and satiated. How quickly she had come when stoked with the combined mass of his fingers.
Then last night, he had risked much by claiming her against a wall the moment she entered the room. She froze, her fingers clawing at the tapestry hanging by the door. Her little breaths panting, her pert bottom pushing back against his erection, her eyes closed. The entry had been easy, a fulsome penetration and requiring no assistance. She gasped, and nearly pulled the tapestry off its hooks.