I was barely in time to catch her cry in my mouth, lest someone heard her and came running. “Shh, this place is not as secure as the palace you must not make a sound or else I will stop.” The way she grabbed my arse and dug her nails in told me she did not want that. I bit her lip leaving a bit of a mark as I fucked her wet cunny for all it was worth, wringing more screams from her, all of which I swallowed.
Chapter 15
King Julian
The next morn she seemed much recovered as we set out on our way to our destination. She laughed with her maid on the way, and the sound did much to lighten my mood. Until one of the dandies found himself riding next to her for a spell. I could’ve killed the sod, but promised myself instead to plan a joust once we reached our destination if only so I could knock his arse from his horse.
When he made her laugh I gritted my teeth and near strangled my poor horse pulling on his reins too tightly. I only calmed down once he rode away, and by then we were mere minutes from the hunting lodge where I planned to keep her hidden for at least a fortnight before moving onto my winter palace where the rest of my court would meet.
This trip though I had not planned it as such, had come to serve another purpose as well. Those courtiers, who had not been chosen to attend, were more likely than not wondering if they had lost favor with their king. It was well for them to worry for a spell, let them wonder, if they were so inclined, if I were onto any little plots and schemes in the making.
We reached the manse and were met by the servants awaiting our arrival. Once again the men were ready for their cups of ale but I pretended to have urgent business of some kind only to follow her up the stairs and dismiss her servants and mine.
“My lord?” She said questioningly as I advanced upon her. Her eyes widened as I stalked her across the room and she backed away. I reached her in two steps and without a word ripped her riding habit in twain. Flinging the shreds aside I pulled her to me and took her down to the rug on the floor.
I unloosed the laces of my braies and took my cock in hand, and turning her back to me drove into her with my hand over her mouth to catch her cry. I fucked her to a ne’er thee well until I came with a loud roar, then left her there without giving her release and headed to my rooms. I felt like a bastard when I heard her cries beyond the door but was too mad to turn back.
“Why are you displeased with me my lord? Have I done something wrong?” She came up beside me. I’d ignored her for the better part of the day but I noticed that she hadn’t shared any more smiles with young dandies. “No.” I was of course, but why tell her? Why give her that much power over her king?
“Go indoors it’s a bit chilled out here.” She looked a bit dejected as she turned to go back inside. The others were off finding their own entertainment, and tomorrow we start the hunt.
I watched until she disappeared inside and went back to my archery. This is one of the only things I can do on my own without interruption that gives me time to think.
As I notched my bow and took aim she was heavy on my mind. It hurt me to hurt her, and for such a petty thing at that. She wasn’t flirting to be sure. My Cecile does not flirt. She’s nothing like the other ladies of the court who are so free with their favors.
Maybe it was because of who I once was, and how easily it had been for me to entice other men’s women into my bed that I had reacted so strongly to her being friendly to the young man. I’d had words with him after leaving her on the floor of his room. Just a few, but I’m sure he got the gist. I’d simply told him to stay away from her. To which he’d all but swallowed his tongue in fear of my wrath.
Not very well done of me since the boy was still wet behind the ears. Tomorrow I’ll make it up to him by letting him ride beside me on the hunt. I’ve grown soft a bit thanks to our nightly talks I think. A fortnight ago I wouldn’t have given a fig what the boy felt.
That evening at supper after hiding herself away from me all day, I made her sit beside me. She picked at her mutton and barely nibbled on her leg of capon, and I noticed she took no wine.
“Are you ill?” I kept my voice low so as not to be overheard. She shook her head surreptitiously and kept her eyes downcast. I cleaned the greasy fingers of the hand nearest her on the fine silk napkin, before placing my hand on her knee.
Conversation carried on around us as I inched her skirts up her thigh. Beneath her petticoats she was bare between her thighs, the way I had once told her I expected her to be, in readiness for me whenever, wherever.
She bit her lip and her face heated but a quick look around the table showed that our guests were too caught up in their own affairs to pay much mind to ours.