He ignored her comment, busy working his shaft with one tight hand, gazing at her bared breasts and then the small golden treasure purse between her thighs. God he wanted to touch her. His stallion was on fire to have her ride it again. Aware of Thierry moving impatiently in the shadows behind her, he did not make eye-contact. Knowing what the other man wanted, he still wasn’t ready to give it.
She lifted her leg, resting her bare foot on the edge of his couch and now he had a clear view of her sex and those sweet, honeyed lips. She could deny it all she liked, but he knew he’d been in there. Had her. Fucked her.
Thierry would have a fine view too, standing silently behind her. He could feel the other man’s desire flowing in waves, but Thierry would just have to wait, because Guy was in charge here.
“Let’s raise the wager,” she said.
“Hmm?”
“If you do not resist touching me, you will arrange a pardon for Raedwulf.”
“Hmm.” All the blood in his body was surely accumulating in his lower regions. His spine tingled. His throat was parched. “Raedwulf? Who the Hell is Raedwulf?”
“My brother,” she clarified tersely.
Oh yes. “Hmm.”
Now she flirted with danger, lifting that same leg higher until her toes rested on the back of his couch. He groaned, working his shaft harder and faster. To keep his other hand occupied he cupped his balls and lightly squeezed.
She thrust her hips forward to show him, trying to make him lose his dare. Reaching between her thighs, she spread her nether lips with her fingers.
A taut cough spat out of him and he sat up, slamming his feet to the floor, cock in hand. “Temptress.”
He could see she was ripe, dark pink and moist, wanting him as much as he wanted her. He already knew how the naughty wench liked touching herself for him to see. She did it now, one fingertip slowly moving over the crest of her labia, seeking out the most sensitive spot. His tongue tried to squeeze between his clenched teeth. He wanted to nudge her fingers aside and taste her, suck and nibble, work that pink pearl with his tongue, close his mouth over her comely slit and drink from her as if she was an oasis in the desert. Make her breath shatter into a thousand cries of delight. His skull felt tight. His lungs strained.
But he would not let her win this game. Could not give in and touch her or the wench would know how much power she had over him.
Thierry had silently moved into the light and hunkered down behind her for a better view. Guy tried to relax his thighs and calm his rearing cock. He slowed his hand. She was moving her hips, sighing blissfully, utterly unaware of the other man watching all, staring up between her spread legs. With two fingers she pressed down on her core and arched her back, breasts jutting upward, proud and full. Guy stared at the precious scarlet jewel between her fingers and needed, so badly, to lap at it with his tongue, to feel it swell with passion. One glance at his friend’s upturned face told him they shared the same grinding need to eat that pussy.
“Is this how you entertained yourself in that convent?” he muttered thickly.
A contented smile told him he guessed correctly. She was certainly well practiced with those fingers.
“That is a beautiful little treasure purse, Deorwynn,” he murmured. “Soft as kidskin. I can taste it from here and feel it open and wet on my tongue. I know how tight that warm haven would be on my shaft if I sought to steal away your treasure.”
She moaned softly, licking her lips, her fingers working faster at the little, glowing bud.
“Shall I tell you how I’d fuck you, Deorwynn?”
She shook her head, eyes half closed. Crouched behind her, Thierry had taken his prick out and worked it in his fist with a rapid rhythm. Guy was surprised she didn’t hear the slapping sound.
Looking again at her pink slit, watching her fingers burrow into it, Guy spoke softly and slowly. “First I’d mount you carefully, inch by inch; then I’d thrust faster and deeper. I’d take that little cunt to heaven on my cock. If you could fit me all in, of course. Do you think you could sheath all of me inside you? Look at me, Deorwynn. Look at what I have for you. What I want to give you.”
* * * *
Through dazed eyes she looked down at the man on the couch, at the massive cock in his hand, and knew again the reckless thrill, seeing him stare and hunger for her in that fierce way.
She gasped, her fingers working hard, while his eyes studied the motion, his face moving closer until his breath whispered across her knuckles.
“Can you feel me inside you, Deorwynn, as I can feel myself fucking you?” He stood the broad head of his staff only inches from her. “You’re squeezing my cock so hard, naughty wench. I feel every silken ridge of your sweet Saxon pussy, milking me. I’m coming inside. So deep inside you’ll taste me in the back of your throat. Hold me, my sweet.”