Purebred (11 page)

Isobel was slowly lifted and lowered
on Alonso's slickly prepared cock, his brothers each holding a leg
with one arm while they slipped hands down to fondle her sex. She
peaked quickly, but dare not let her husband see. He was watching
so intently and she knew he preferred to see her scared or
disgusted by what was done to her on his bed. That, for some
reason, brought him sadistic pleasure.

The two handsome brothers, squeezing a
finger each into her sopping wet pussy did not give the act away.
In fact, apparently aware of what the Baron wanted, they went along
with it as if this was a performance.

"We're going to fill you with cock,
Lady Isobel, and you will beg us to stop," said Ramon in a terse
voice as he fingered her.

"Yes," she gasped out, trembling.
"Please don't hurt me."

Her husband smirked and settled in his
chair, a goblet of wine clutched in one fist, as usual.

Dominigo bent his head and took her
left nipple in his mouth. Meanwhile, Alonso's hands were on her
hips and he pulled her down, holding her speared on his cock. "I'm
rolling on my side," he grunted. "Which of you wants to go first in
my lady's cunt?"

Ramon seemed ready to leap to it, but
Dominigo pushed him aside. "Wait your turn, young cub. I'll spill
in that fine quim first."

With Alonso's arm wrapped around her
waist, Isobel was carefully laid on her side, his cock still
impaling her bottom. His big brother stretched out on the bed
before her and raised her leg. "That's a beautiful, delicate little
pussy, my lady," he muttered, grinning at her with fine white
teeth, just like his brother's. "I might be too damn much for it.
Here it comes..." He shifted forward and she felt the heft of that
enormous cock against her inner thigh as he forced his way in.
Behind her, Alonso moved closer and pressed his chest hard to her
back, hot and damp with sweat.

With both cocks now throbbing inside
her she wanted to cry out. She could not move. Dear god, they would
surely kill her.

The Baron laughed and slapped his hand
on the arm of his chair, proclaiming that he had never seen such a
big prick in such a small cunny. And certainly never seen a young
wench penetrated simultaneously in both holes. He was beside
himself with glee as his wife groaned and gasped. "Let me see!" he
shouted. "Such a sight it is! Let me see the two cocks moving in
and out."

Ramon lifted her left leg, and she
knew Louvet was watching as the other two brothers fucked her
steadily, moving in a rhythm they'd clearly used before.

The Baron fell silent, but then she
felt a hand touching her on the area of her body between the two
pumping cocks. It was as if he tried to feel how and where they
went in and out without splitting her in two.

His scratchy fingernails ventured
farther, and she knew he was feeling around her anus, trying to
grab hold of Alonso's cock as it moved in and out. Then he did the
same to Dominigo, gripping the girth of that massive prick as it
pushed into her stretched vagina.

"Does it hurt, wench?" he
demanded.

Isobel, knowing what he wanted to
hear, groaned that it did, but in truth she was close to another
climax and her trembling was from that, not at all from fear. At
last her husband must have gone back to his viewing
position.

Ramon let her leg down and then knelt
at her head and offered his erection, claiming that he would spill
soon and could not wait. Taking pity on the younger brother, Isobel
opened her mouth and took him in, sucking gently and then with
greater hunger as his thrusting brothers began to spill, one after
the other.

She no longer knew where Isobel ended
and they began. They were a part of her and vice versa.

* * * *

The brothers each took their turn.
Isobel surprised him by how willingly she went with their actions.
It might have been a choreographed dance for how smoothly the four
bodies moved around the Baron's bed. For a woman who was a virgin
not so long ago she took to pleasing multiple partners with ease,
he mused, slightly annoyed by the fact. But his disgruntled
thoughts were soon swept aside. She was an exceptional jewel of a
woman, full of depths he could never plumb alone. He needed his
brothers to bring all her facets out and make them shine. And when
she smiled at him, Alonso knew how rare it was, how special. It was
for him alone.

* * * *

When her courses did not appear she
stood in her chamber and felt her stomach, tentative, hardly daring
to believe it had happened to her at last.

"Foolish woman, you will
not feel him yet!" she mocked herself.
Him
. She already thought of it as a
son.

She knew Jeanne had been ordered by
the Baron to let him know as soon as she got the first of her flux.
He was waiting, anxious to know if his scheme bore
fruit.

As she sat upon her bed that day,
Isobel felt sick. Many emotions were at work within her. Unsettled
she knew not which way to turn. Beside her bed there were three
late-blooming wild roses, sent to her by the brothers after their
last coupling. They must have cut them from the stable wall where
the flowers climbed and flourished. Their pale pink petals were
ready to fall, wide open and windblown. She took one from the small
cup of water in which they'd been placed and in doing so she
pricked her finger on one of the thorns. Blood dripped to her
skirt.

For a moment longer she sat there, her
thoughts finally settling into sensible order again. Then she
carefully began to prick each one of her fingers until the
bloodstain blossomed.

* * * *

The Baron was furious. He tossed the
bloodied gown at Alonso.

"So much for you and your brothers'
wondrous capabilities," he sneered. "Her womb remains empty. The
maid brought me this today."

He could not believe it, but the blood
was there. Apparent proof of his failure.

"I might have known better than to
trust the word of a d'Anzeray."

"I know not what—"

"Get out. You need not expect a fee
for doing nothing. And you get no more chances. I've wasted enough
time." The Baron fell into his chair, looking twice as old
suddenly. "Damn this weather. It eats into a man's
bones."

Alonso left the chamber and went
looking for Isobel. She was cutting the last of the roses from the
stable wall and placing them carefully in a long woven
basket.

"I heard the news from Louvet," he
said.

She looked at him. "Yes?"

"I'm...sorry."

"Why? It is not your
fault, to be sure. Perhaps I am infertile and will never bear a
child. Certainly," she smiled, "you gave it your best try.
He
cannot fault you for
that."

"You are not infertile,
Isobel."

"How can you know that? How can
anyone?"

He did not know what to say. Having
expected her to be more depressed, he was shocked to find her
smiling and cutting roses. Perhaps she put a brave face on it, he
thought.

But he was saddened. Somehow he'd
convinced himself that she bore his child already. Had he been
stupid to expect it after only a few weeks?

"In fact, the more I think of it," she
added, "the more certain I am that I will never carry a child for
Louvet."

"But he never gave you a chance
before. You were a maid until—"

"Was I?"

He stared. "I saw the blood, Isobel,
when I broke your maidenhead."

"Did you?" She widened her eyes
innocently.

"Yes, I did."

"The eye can be deceived."

Alonso squinted.

"Blood can come from many places." She
lifted one of the cut roses and sniffed it. "Do these not smell
wonderful?" She offered it to him, thrusting it in his
face.

He was confused. She was acting oddly.
Even more so than usual.

"Yes, they smell like you do," he said
finally. He took the rose from her and swore when he pricked his
finger.

"Oops." Isobel quickly set down her
basket and took a kerchief from her sleeve. "Blood! Let me wipe
that up for you, before it gets on your clothes. It might
stain."

Alonso frowned at his finger as she
tended to it.

"Sometimes," she muttered airily,
picking up her basket again, "I'm surprised horses don't ride
men."

He would have followed her as she
walked away, but Alonso was aware then of Louvet emerging from the
great hall and crossing the yard toward the stables. He had to let
her go.

"You and your brothers will leave my
manor by morning, d'Anzeray. There is no reason for you to
stay."

Annoyed, he glared at the Baron. "If
you think your soldiers can handle the rebels that remain, that's
up to you."

"Yes, it is." Louvet flicked a
disappointed glance at the vanishing figure of his young wife and
then slouched off in the other direction.

Chapter Nine

She'd made up her mind. It was the
only solution.

Her single worry was for Jeanne, for
she didn't want to leave her beloved maid behind, but she had no
idea what she was walking into when she left, no idea what Jeanne
would think of her new life.

Under her roses she had collected some
straw from the stables. This she made into the small figure of a
man. She wove a wig of her husband's hair and tied it to the doll’s
head. Then she took a scrap of cloth from one of his old tunics and
wrapped it around the plump torso. It was a reasonable
representation, she mused, hiding it under her pillow.

When the maid came to her room that
night, expecting to help her dress for bed, she found Isobel
prepared to travel instead, a small trunk packed at the foot of the
bed, her fur-lined, hooded mantle laid ready with her riding
gloves.

"My lady? What is...? Where do you
go?"

"I go with Alonso d'Anzeray when he
leaves tonight."

"But, my lady, you can't—"

"I must, Jeanne. I cannot stay here. I
am in love, as you said."

The maid covered her face with her
hands and swayed. "If you go with him what will become of you, my
lady? This is terrible. You know what he is — his whole
family!"

"I know what is said of them. Rumor is
so easily spread, and we cannot know what is true until we see with
our own eyes. Think of all the slander my husband tells of me. That
I am a witch!" She laughed. "I do not care what Alonso might be,
Jeanne." The words fell easily from her lips now after she had
rehearsed them all evening while packing her coffer. "But I do care
about you. I want you to come with me. I will need you in that
strange place."

Jeanne's hands dropped away from her
red cheeks. "But if you go there you will be shared. With all his
brothers. It is the way of it, my lady. He has said that himself.
That is not merely rumor."

Yes, she had thought about this too.
The fact was she very much enjoyed what Alonso and his brothers did
to her. Indeed, she did not want it to stop and if he had more
brothers like them...it was entirely possible she would enjoy them
the same way. At least they were not jealous men, it seemed, if
they were capable of sharing a woman. They were said to be violent,
but from what she'd seen they kept that for the battlefield. She
had only been treated tenderly by all three of them. And especially
by Alonso, who had opened up a new world for Isobel the first time
he touched her. She wanted to be a part of his life and his world.
With him beside her she could be happy at last. Contented as she
never thought possible.

* * * *

While he saddled his horse Alonso
thought of Isobel alone in her bed. Would she dream of him at all?
Her behavior that afternoon had been odd, as if she'd never hoped
to be pregnant and was now unperturbed by the failure. When
expressing the opinion that she might be infertile her tone had
almost been jaunty.

He could not understand it.

Alonso wanted to take her away with
him. But then what? She was a fine noblewoman from a rich family,
unlike his brothers' other wives who were poor, abused women,
grateful for the life they now had. What could he offer Isobel that
she did not have already? His brothers' wives were happy to be
taken into the family, to become wives to seven men, because their
lives had improved vastly. But Isobel was different. She had all
manner of luxuries and how would she take to the idea of being
shared on a permanent basis?

His brothers had already left an hour
ago, and he had no one to discuss his problem with. No one to talk
him out of doing something utterly mad and reckless.

He scratched his chest where his heart
ached. Damn. How could he leave her? Yet how could he ask her to
change everything in her life for him?

Suddenly there was a noise behind in
the stable doorway, and he swung around.