Bondslave (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards #1 ) (7 page)

He had claimed her. She was elated.

Still moving his finger in and out of her anus, Domingo laughed softly. "Will you suck my cock, Princesa? It weeps for your attention."

Breathless, she nodded. Now they set her legs down in the bath and Raul held her waist, keeping his semi-deflated cock inside her. Domingo offered his massive prick for her tasting, but before she gave her lips to that task, Salvador suddenly grabbed her chin, forced her head around toward him, and kissed her. His tongue took fierce possession, drained a sigh from her throat, and then he bent his head to enjoy those aching nipples.

It was the beginning of a long and glorious feasting for all.

Chapter Seven

They laid her down on fleeces, furs and skins by the great fire. She was clean now from head to toe as all five brothers had taken special care of her, washing her hair, wiping her down with their hands in the water.

Raul watched her with concern, moving hair out of her face, kissing her gently. He wanted her again already, but he had staked his claim first and now he must be patient. In fact he was surprised the elder brothers let him have her first. Had they sensed she was something new?

Salvador took his place between her legs next while Alonso and Sebastien each suckled a breast.

She looked over at Raul and licked her lips, her eyes misty as they traveled downward to where he held his erect cock. Shifting forward on his knees, he held it out for her and she took it into her soft, lush mouth. He groaned, stroking her golden hair.

"I don't want to come again yet," he muttered, already acquainted with the skills of her clever mouth. So she slowed her sucking and licked gently around the glossy head, knowing just how to keep him on the verge. His obedient pleasure slave.

He began to think he might not want to give her back to Tourlaville, not even for the prize money. Not even if it might mean he could make a trade for a nobly-born bride.

She was too beautiful, his princess slave.

Salvador held himself up on his strong arms and thrust in and out of her cunny, grunting with pleasure and cursing, probably because he could not hold off. Raul knew exactly what his brother was feeling. Sal pulled out just as his seed shot forth, all over her belly in thick white ropes.

Alonso quickly wiped her off with his own bundled tunic and then lifted her into his lap, jumping the queue. While Raul watched she looped her arms around his audacious younger brother's broad, flexing shoulders and let herself be filled again, her slender body arching like a whip, offering her titties to Alonso's lips. Sebastien closed in behind her and reached around to hold her breasts, his own cock pressed to her back while he nibbled on her ear and the side of her neck. Impatient cub, mused Raul with a smile.

The three bodies, gilded by firelight, glistened with sweat as they moved together in glorious harmony. It was a performance Raul had seen before, many times, but never with such a perfectly made woman. Her pale skin was like cream poured over the hard, sun-browned bodies of his younger brothers. When she moved her head, light caught in the pure gold locks and dazzled him.

He rested, stretched out across the furs and propped up on one elbow, considering this strange woman he'd acquired. Could he keep her?

What if she ran from him, as she ran from Tourlaville?

She would be an endless distraction in his life. He smiled a little at that thought. A very pleasant distraction.

Dominigo moved in, his jaw set hard. There was a little friction as he forced Sebastien aside, but as second eldest he knew his rights. He lifted her into his own lap. She looked swamped by Dom's huge frame, her body so slim and pale in comparison to his great, hairy bulk, but her face was not afraid.

"Will you welcome me in, Princesa? I can wait no longer."

* * * *

A strange pulsing thrill had taken hold of her. She felt oddly powerful, despite her slight size compared to these men. They fucked her, but not as the Comte did. He was always angry and cruel. He never cared if she had pleasure, never asked permission to do whatever he wanted with her person. He did not share her with other men although he had, on occasion, allowed others to watch. That had excited him, it seemed—merely because he knew the audience must envy him. If he had trouble climaxing, he blamed her and then he locked her in a dark stone chamber under his manor and she went without food until he felt inclined to let her eat again. He never beat her, at least; he needed her skin smooth and clean. But he had other ways to torture, punish and humiliate.

These men, on the other hand, ensured she had pleasure. She was licked over every inch, kissed and suckled until she cried out in her own language of ecstasy.

By the time Dominigo covered her like a bull with his body the old slave no longer existed. She could erase all thoughts of the Comte. He was forgotten.

Her anus was tended carefully with some sort of oil, and Domingo eased himself into her slowly. With one large hand he reached around to caress her pussy, relieving tension in one area as it mounted in another. His other hand cupped her left breast, and he trapped the nipple between two fingers, tweaking it gently.

"Splendid titties," Alonso observed. "So ripe and juicy." He leaned in to lick at the little rosy peak between his brother's tanned fingers.

Princesa gasped, bouncing slightly. Her nipples were ruby-red and quite sore from all the fondling and sucking, but in the next moment she forgot that as Dom's cock pushed through the tight entrance to her small bottom.

Oh, now she was speared and on all fours. It was raw, bestial. He was huge, long and thick.

"I don't know if I can..." she cried out, panting. "You might split me in two!"

Dom chuckled, and it vibrated through her spine. "Don't worry, my sweet angel." He worked her cunt with long, agile fingers and moved his hips from side to side, slowly forcing his way deeper into her anus. "Breathe," he whispered, kissing her shoulder. "Breathe. Yes...there...there we go." He swore, his thighs trembled against the back of her legs, the little curled dark hairs ticking her skin. "Lon, get under her and tongue that pussy. She's dripping wet with need! Don't leave the Princesa waiting."

Alonso quickly complied, sliding under her from the side and burying his face in her pubic mound. The pressure in her bottom was intense, discomforting. But when Alonso sucked another orgasm out of her, she let her buttocks relax finally. The muscles stopped clenching, and Dom invaded her as far as he could go, growling in celebration.

She would be sore come the morning, but in that moment she did not care and in all honesty after taking three already in her pussy she was glad of the respite.

A hand cupped her chin and lifted it. There was Raul and Salvador, both battling to get their cocks in her mouth. She licked her lips, overcome with hunger, wild with desire. Beneath her, Sebastien joined Alonso in licking and fingering her aching cunt while playfully taking turns nibbling at her hanging, swaying nipples. Dom's fingertips dug into her buttocks, and he plumbed her arse with increasing speed, until flames lapped over her and she was slick with sweat.

She was coming again, coming hard all over the face of whomever currently lapped at her swollen labia. Squealing, she gave herself up to them completely, never wanting this to end. Opening her mouth wide she tried her best to catch the rich, creamy streams of cum that shot at her from Raul and his eldest brother.  They sprayed her face with it, and she closed her eyes, delighting in the heaviness as it hit her eyelids and dripped to her lashes. So much of it. And all for her.

* * * *

He wrapped his slave in his arms and kissed her sticky eyelids. "Are you tired, Princesa?"

"Yes." She sighed. "And no."

He chuckled and held her tighter. All around them his brothers napped on the furs, stretched out and happily spent, like hounds after a good hunt. For now at least they were content.

"Is it always like this?" she whispered. "You and your brothers?"

"Not always. Most times we do share. It is only right if we are together."

"Then you are not possessive of your women?"

He smirked lazily. "Oh, we are possessive too. Of anything that belongs to us."

"I don't understand."

"What belongs to one of us," he lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips, "belongs to all seven."

She was quiet for a while, and he listened to the fire crackling, the smoky air and sexual musk filling his nostrils, seeping in through his skin. How did he explain his family to this Saxon girl? Having grown up tussling
and
tupping in close companionship with his brothers, he'd only realized, a few years ago, that not all families were like his. Most weren't.

The brothers d'Anzeray might be scrappers who learned to fight as soon as they learned to walk, but they also protected and defended each other against the world that slandered them every chance it got. This loyalty meant trust of an extraordinary depth and the desire to share all good things between them. When together the seven were as one.

"I've never known men like you," she muttered finally, confirming his thoughts.

"And what do you think of us, Princesa?"

She tilted her head back and looked up at him. "I'm glad I met you."

Her eyes were bright green that evening. Again he was shocked, for the brown was gone. It was spring again and then summer in her gaze, with sun and birdsong and the fragrance of lavender. For a moment he was back to his merry youth in Normandy, when there were no troubles and life was simple. When he waded in the stream, trying to catch fish on his sharpened stick, showing off for the rosy-cheeked peasant girls on his father's land.

His opportunity looked at him as if he were her savior, and his heart quaked.

Eventually Princesa laid her head on his shoulder, yawned, and finally slept.

Listening to her gentle snores, he ran fingers lightly over her damp, gleaming hair and considered his future. And hers.

Chapter Eight

She woke as daylight crept in through gaps in the timber walls. Her first thought was that she was nude and why then did she feel no cold? It was winter and the fire in the hearth had died away to smoldering ash. Yet she was warm, comfortable as a babe in swaddling.

Lifting her head, she looked around and realized the pack had gathered around her to keep her sheltered and protected all night. Lost under a pile of heavy limbs, she might have felt trapped, if not for the memory of how each brother had tended to her.

Raul lay before her, an arm around her waist, his eyelashes twitching gently as he dreamed, his lips parted to exhale a steady sigh. Behind her was Dom, his hand splayed upon her hip, his wine-scented breath moving her hair with every snore. Laid with their arms around her legs there were Alonso and Sebastien. Salvador slept above her on the fur, the top of her head resting in the curve of his chest.

Yawning, she moved slightly to stretch and almost instantly felt the push of a hard dick at her back. Dominigo, it seemed, had woken too and suffered a stiff morning friend. His hand moved from her hip to her belly and tried inching her closer to him, but this motion woke Raul, who was apparently in no mood to loosen his grip on her waist. Reaching her arms around his neck Princesa wriggled upward and kissed her master, pressing her breasts against the hard planes of his chest at the same time and letting his dark hairs tickle her nipples.

"Good morning, Master."

Behind her, Dom nibbled her shoulder. "What about me?" he whispered thickly. "Do I get no greeting?"

She looked at Raul. Eyes still narrowed sleepily he nodded to her, so she turned her head and kissed his brother too. Immediately that stiff battering ram of a cock was forcing its way between her buttocks, seeking a way in again. Every part of her ached and was sore that morning, as she knew it would be, but when Raul moved his hand between her thighs and stroked her with two fingers, she parted her legs to accommodate their needs, eager to please.

The two brothers exchanged glances over her head, and she knew what was coming. Her pulse raced as she fully woke now, her body tensing and then curving between theirs. The other three young men still slept and she sensed that Dom and Raul were careful not to wake them. There was a particular closeness between those two, something shared that went deeper than a unique eye color. And being held between them like a cosseted prize made Princesa special too.

Raul eased the helmet of his prick between her tender nether lips and kissed her chin, running his tongue over the scar that had once marked her as the Comte's property.

"Can you take us both this morning?" he murmured.

Dom nibbled on the nape of her neck and fondled her breasts in his big palms. It surprised her how such rough hands could be gentle. "Of course she can. Can't you, Princesa Angel?"

With both cocks nudging at her, she anticipated this joint mounting with a little trepidation. But a vast deal of excitement.

"Yes," she whispered, arching her back, encouraging Dom in. "Yes!"

Raul grinned sleepily and his lower body swayed forward to keep her tight between them. "Here comes your master's seed again. You're sure you can take more? We have not overused you?"

Biting her lip she shook her head against the fur. "More, please."

His eyes widened, gleaming with desire. "Kiss me again, slave girl."

She did so, gladly, devotedly.

Behind her, Dominigo eased his way into her arse again. It hurt, of course. But after the pain, and through it, came the pleasure to which she was rapidly becoming addicted. Was it possible, she mused, for pain to
be
pleasure too? With his broad manhood pushing deeper, she was speared again, groaning softly, so anxious to make these men happy.

She could do this for them. It was all she could do; therefore, she would do it to the best of her ability.

If only Raul would keep her with him.

Again through the spike of intense pain came raw delight, a steady pulse thudding through her cunt.

In front of her, Raul positioned his cock for penetration and then looked deep into her eyes. She had been about to close them, but he whispered at her to keep them open.

Apparently he wanted to study her expression as the two of them fucked her. "I can feel Dom's cock moving inside you, and he can feel mine. I want to know, by watching your face, the moment he shoots his semen."

She blinked and then kept her eyes wide open as he wanted. He could read all her secret desires there. She did not want to hide anything from him.

"Do you like him in your arse, slave?"

"Yes."

He pushed another inch forward. "Do you like me in your pussy? Like this?"

"Yes." And she mouthed at him, "
I love it
." Warm tears pricked under her lashes, but she fought them back. "
I love you
." It devastated her, but it was true.

"You are a beautiful woman, Princesa," he whispered in a rush of breath, as if he'd tried to hold back. "How could any man let you get away?"

"Fuck me, Raul," she gasped, fearing she would come before he entered her fully.

He kissed her on the mouth as he eased the last few rigid inches into her pussy.

Now she was filled at both entrances. It was too much surely. They would break her slender body between them. But when his tongue pushed into her mouth the exquisite possession was complete and thorough. She was their plaything and for her they fought with swords of flesh.

Princesa returned Raul's kiss as if it might be her last meal, and the two brothers began timing their jousting thrusts with a skill that told her they'd done this before too.

A keen spark of competitive jealousy made her work her hips faster between them, smacking her arse cheeks into Dom's groin until he growled and wrapping her legs around Raul's hips to draw him ever deeper into her.

They might have had other women this way. But they'd never had one like her and she would make certain of it.

The moaning and gasping soon woke the other three to watch this frenzied mating. The brother's gathered around, moving her long loose hair aside and lifting her legs to get a clearer view of the reaming she was getting. They marveled aloud over how much she could take and it was not long before they joined in, eager to begin their games all over again.

She welcomed them all with gleeful satisfaction. Last night the five of them had fucked her soundly. This morning she had the pleasure of returning the favor, leaving the d'Anzeray brothers exhausted for the first time in living memory.

* * * *

Salvador came out to the stables as he was readying his horse for the journey.

"So now you have fine new boots from my cobbler. I hope you know your lovely slave earned those for you. She pleased us all so well last night we agreed to pay for the best boots he could make."

"Oh, I know you would not have been so generous just for me," he muttered, securing the bloodied sack to the back of the saddle. He didn't want to think too hard about what she'd whispered to him that morning or how much enjoyment he'd had with her. She was not his to keep, and he must remember that.

"She gave herself so readily to us last night, I wonder if there is anything she would
not
do for you, Raul."

"She gave herself eagerly because she enjoyed it." He shot his brother a frown. "I'm not leaving her here for you, if that's what you mean to ask."

"Somehow I didn't think you would."

Glancing quickly toward the open stable door, he explained to Salvador that he was taking her to Canterbury for a reason. "I happen to know there's a reward out for her return."

"Her return?"

He sighed and patted the horse's rump. "She belongs to the Comte de Tourlaville. She's a runaway slave, and he wants her back." This morning he was all business. Had to be. He was Raul d'Anzeray, ruthless mercenary, not a lovesick, pussy-whipped boy.

Salvador's brows arched high. "Is that so?"

"Yes. I'll collect the reward for her and for this," he jabbed a finger at the sack containing the severed head. "He'll be so thankful to me that he'll oblige by giving me his daughter's hand and her plump dowry. I hear she's of age to be wed and he's looking for prospects."

There was a pause. Salvador walked around his horse, stroking its glossy mane. "Tourlaville is in Canterbury?"

"So I'm told. He went to confer with a holy man."

Salvador laughed curtly. "Looking to pay his way in through the gates of heaven, no doubt, that scheming old bugger. And you'd give your slave girl up for Tourlaville's daughter?"

Raul stood with feet apart and folded his arms. "Father wants us to marry rich brides of noble blood. He wants political and wealthy alliances in the family. You heard him, as did I."

His brother's thin lips turned up in a knowing smirk. "I don't believe you'd ever do it."

"Do what?"

"Give her up. Your
Princesa
."

He shook his head. "She's not mine and never was, Sal. This was a pleasant diversion. Nothing more. She goes back where she belongs, and I get my reward."

Salvador pursed his lips.

"I've never changed my mind over a woman," Raul reminded him crossly. "And she's a penniless whore. What sort of wife would she make for men of ambition like us?"

"Perhaps you're right." Sal ran a hand through the horse's dark mane. "By the by, I hear Tourlaville has trouble subduing the Saxon rebels at the castellany King William granted him."

Raul sneered. "I'm not surprised. He's a bad leader and can't keep the trust or the fealty of his soldiers. He's lazy, wastes his time on idle pursuits." For instance, look how the man waited for others to catch his runaway whore. If it were Raul, or one of his brothers, they would have chased her down themselves before she got far. Although, she would never run from them, would she?

"Doesn't his nephew have land near Canterbury?" Sal asked suddenly. "I daresay the old bugger has gone there to plead for reinforcements."

Raul was adjusting the bridle. He paused, thoughtful, looking at his fingers.

"Well, take care of yourself, brother," said Sal walking back around the horse to where Raul stood. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do."

* * * *

Stumbling to a halt behind the stable door, she'd heard it all. The words fell upon her like sharp, cruel, well-aimed arrowheads.

Her heart almost ceased to beat.

So he knew who she was. All this time he'd known and planned to take her back to the Comte for a reward. Sickened, she leaned against the stable wall, needing it to hold her upright. What a fool she'd been. What a naive, pathetic, pitiful girl.

She should have known better. How many times had she reminded herself of what he was? A Norman and a d'Anzeray. Had there ever been a worse combination?

To him she was just another whore, like many he and his brothers used.

This is simply how things were, as he liked to say.

Princesa,
indeed. No wonder he smiled when he said it.

* * * *

"My brothers wore you out it seems," he said to her, realizing she had not spoken for several miles.

"Yes. That must be it," came the response.

They rode on, and she returned to her silence. It was unusual for her, and he'd grown accustomed to her chatter over the past three days of their travel together. Her companionship had taken him by surprise in fact, for he'd never known a woman to hold his interest in ways other than the fucking. Raul wanted to know more about her and that too was vastly unusual for him. Last night, while she slept, he'd gone prying through her bundle of "belongings" and found it contained nothing but more rags. Yet she clung to it and kept it with her as if it were treasure.