A Gift of Gold Read online

  It would serve her satyr of a future husband right to fuck her, not knowing he’d be doing it nightly soon enough. And he wouldn’t be able to help feeling at least a bit abashed once he learned the real identity of the strange woman he’d plowed just days before taking marriage vows with her.

  Mavis gave her a critical once-over. “Ye’ll need clothes. And ye’d better not talk like the fine lady you are. Wait. I’ll borrow a gown from Cook. She be about yer size.”

  Her ego stung a bit by Mavis’s last remark, Evelyn stripped down to her plain white linen shift. Excitement won out over the sense of uneasiness that lingered in the back of her mind. “By God, I’ll test out the bonny lad I’m weddin’ and he’ll be none the wiser.”

  While Evelyn twirled about, getting into the role of a wanton serving girl and testing the manner of speaking she’d use, Mavis returned with a drab blue garment.

  It smelled like grease from the cooking fire and felt like grit against skin used to velvets and satin. Evelyn wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her disguise had better work to make wearing this rag worthwhile.

  As they went downstairs, crossed the great hall, and ascended a steep curving stairway to another of Summerville’s crenellated towers, Evelyn silently laughed at the prospect of putting one over on her lascivious future husband.

  “Let’s tell him yer name’s Evie, m’lady. Yer name be pretty, but it’d never belong to a serving wench.”

  Evelyn laughed out loud. “Fine. Evie it is, but ye’d best not be callin’ me m’lady unless ye want to spoil his surprise.”

  Chapter Two

  In the north tower, Sir Gavin paced naked across the cold stone floor. Where were the wenches he’d summoned to come relieve him? Damn it, he’d had this raging hard-on since leaving his Uncle Giles’s castle a week earlier. Shivering, he tossed another log onto the fireplace grate. The warmth slowly curled around him, almost like his absent lovers should be doing in yonder bed.

  Gavin’s stone-hard cock twitched, reminding him of the wenches. He’d demanded a pair out of habit, even though he doubted Will would return in time to join in the fun. Gavin considered inviting his other brothers, eleven-year-old Alfred and thirteen-year-old Henry, who’d come home from fostering for the holidays, to take part in the debauchery, but he quickly discarded that idea. His lady mother would box his ears, much like she’d boxed them years ago when he and Will had enticed two serf girls to their beds to celebrate their twelfth birthday with some mutual bodily explorations. As he recalled, the whipping he’d been administered had caused far more pain to his ass than the wenches had provided him in pleasure.

  Oh well, he was hard enough to service them both and ask for more. Where were they anyhow?

  “M’lord?” The dark-eyed girl who suddenly appeared in the open doorway to the solar was young and pretty. Mavis, if he recalled her name correctly from their last encounter. Though Mavis was eminently fuckable, it was her companion who made Gavin’s heart beat faster. Her flaxen hair flowed loose to her generous hips, and her ripe breasts heaved—whether with anticipation or fear, he could not say.

  Plump as a Christmas goose, she was. Anxious to get on with the fucking, too, if her haste to cast off the filthy servant’s gown was an indication of her ardor, and not merely a perfectly understandable desire to be free from the pervasive smell of roasting meat that clung to the ugly garment.

  It mattered not if she weren’t already slick and wet. She’d get hot for him soon enough. He’d stay by the fire, keep his ass warm while the chill air made his lovers’ nipples pucker and drew goose bumps on their naked skin. “Both of you. Disrobe and come to me.”

  He imagined the one wench’s pale hair wrapped around his cock, warming his balls. Trailing over his thighs and ass while she sucked him dry…while he tongue-fucked the tiny brunette and introduced her to a cock she’d not yet seen. The ruby-red blown glass dildo had caused almost as much of a furor among the jades at King Henry’s court as his and Will’s distinctively pierced rods.

  First he wanted to sample the plump wench’s quivering breasts. They’d more than fill his large hands, and their rosy puckered nipples tempted him mightily when she lifted off her shift. He longed to swirl his tongue over a small blood-red birthmark he spied just below the nipple of her left breast. Rising, he smiled at her when her huge china-blue eyes opened wide and her mouth formed a sensual “O” at the sight of his pierced, heavily jeweled cock.

  “Gawd, somebody whacked off yer foreskin and stuck pins through yer knob!”

  “You didn’t know? There’s hardly a soul on the marches who’s not heard of the deVere cocks. Come, take a closer look.” Ere dawn broke, the buxom beauty would have examined in minute detail the rod that apparently caused her such consternation. Gavin’s balls tightened painfully as he looked at her soft, soft skin. The saucy twin moons of her well-padded ass. He cursed the pale gold curtain of hair that hid her features while she knelt and took his seed sac in her dainty hands, even as he longed to bury his face in the fragrant, silky strands.

  “Must be a king’s fortune just in this big gold ring.” Lubrication seeped from his slit when she rotated the heavy ring that pierced his cockhead, and when she tugged gently on one of the gold studs that ringed his corona, he moaned. God’s blood, but she had a magic touch. “Mavis, ye didn’t tell me we’d be fuckin’ a prick full of precious metals.”

  It suddenly struck Gavin that he couldn’t recall having seen this angel who was quickly setting his blood a-boiling. He wouldn’t have missed her, if she’d been about the castle while he was home. Ever mindful as he was of the earl’s enemies using whatever means they could to get at members of his family, Gavin asked sharply, “What’s your name, girl?” Though her speech marked her a villein, he didn’t often see a serf so obviously well-fed. Or one with such soft, velvety hands and shining hair.

  She stood, met his gaze with a degree of self-possession unusual in a servant. “Evie, m’lord. I come from the village.”

  “Well, Evie, you’ve a sassy mouth. I suggest you use it to pleasure me. “ Ironic, this smart-mouthed woman bore a variation of the same Christian name as Lady Evelyn fitzSimmons, his betrothed. “Come closer, Mavis. I’d pleasure you, too.”

  Evie’s pale hair formed a gleaming blanket about her upper body when she knelt again at Gavin’s feet and took his cockhead between her soft, moist lips. The silky strands brushed his thighs and tickled the tender flesh of his scrotum while he fondled Mavis’s small, pert breasts.

  ‘Twas all Evelyn could do to resist chomping her betrothed’s huge, jeweled sword. Be damned if she’d share him with the serving girls once she was his wife!

  “Ah, Mavis, my sweet. You taste as good as ever!”

  “‘Tis always a treat whenever you call me, m’lord Gavin.”

  “You, Evie girl. Take a bit more of my cock. Suck it harder, would you?”

  She’d suck him harder, all right. She opened wider, lowered her mouth on him until the ring in the end of his cockhead tickled her throat. And deliberately let her teeth graze the bejeweled ridge of his corona.”

  “Ow. Easy there, or you’ll bite it off.”

  If only…but no, ‘twas her own pleasure tool she’d be destroying if she followed the impish voice inside her head. Her tool. On their wedding night she’d lock it away…and set it free only when she wanted satisfaction!

  Still it rankled. It was Mavis getting the benefit of her betrothed husband’s hands and mouth. Mavis whose passion he was arousing whilst she, Evie, set his own blood a-boiling. Deliberately she dug her nails into the muscular flesh of his buttocks as she sucked his cock with feigned enthusiasm.

  “Ah, Will, I assume you routed the MacFarlane clansmen ere they paupered us all. Come on, join in the fun.”

  God in heaven, Lord William must have just walked in on them. Evelyn dug her nails in harder, clamped her lips down harder on Gavin’s swollen cock. Unsure whether to flee—not likely possible, she imagined—or stay and take part in a fuckfest
that involved not only her betrothed but his older twin brother, she hesitated.

  A moment too long, it appeared, for she felt chilled skin against her back and a pair of cold hands plucking at her nipples. Hot sweet breath prickled the skin on the sensitive nape of her neck as soon as another pair of hands—Gavin’s hands—swept her hair over her shoulder.

  “Who is this delectable wench?” Like Gavin’s, Will’s voice was deep and sensual, the voice of a skilled lover. When he nibbled at her exposed earlobe, he made her shiver.

  “Here, Will. Meet Evie. She’ll warm you quickly enough, I’ll warrant. Oh, yes, Evie girl. Suck me dry. Make me forget that ere a sennight passes I’ll be a married man.”

  A married man who’d ne’er again fuck a serving girl. Evelyn redoubled her efforts as Gavin’s brother tugged her nipples and nudged her weeping cunt with his own fine blade. How would Gavin feel when he learned he’d given his bride to his own brother?

  ‘Twas an arousing thought…an arousing situation. God’s blood, how hers boiled when Gavin tossed the furs from the bed onto the floor, lay down before the fire, and drew her lips back to his cock—while Will spread her legs and knelt behind her, rubbing his pulsating sword along her wet slit, in the creases where her thighs and body met. She wanted to rear back, take his cock into her body when it nudged the dripping entrance to her cunt…the sensitive tissue around her anus.

  Vaguely Evelyn’s mind registered that Mavis sat squarely on Gavin’s face, and that he was using his tongue to lap the servant’s well-used cunt while tugging Evelyn’s own nipples between his callused thumbs and forefingers. The delicious sensation of fullness dispelled any jealousy…anger. For she had them both. Her betrothed and his brother. The slightly salty taste of the slick juices that seeped around the ring in Gavin’s cock tickled her tongue while his brother’s love tool primed her quim, spread her honey along her slit, over the puckered entrance to her rear passage.

  The sensual assault made her crazy with wanting more. Wanting them both. Evelyn’s excitement bubbled as she imagined how ‘twould feel…one identical twin’s cock plowing her cunt, the other invading her ass. “Ohhhh,” she murmured around the turgid flesh stretching her lips when something hard and cold slid past the weeping lips of her quim and lodged in her cunt. Not a cock…what?

  Whatever it was it heated quickly, set her cunt afire when she contracted her inner muscles around the smooth, hard object. It slid in and out, stoking the flames, making her suck harder on the cock in her mouth as though that would entice the other cock to fill her empty, aching ass. The virgin hole Mavis had warned her to prepare. To stretch as she’d once stretched her cunt for Baron fitzSimmons whose tool had been whispered to be immense.

  The glass phallus she’d used was a puny toy compared with the throbbing cock that now pulsated in her mouth.

  Anticipation built as Gavin used his rough, callused hands to pinch her nipples, tug on them. Gavin rocked back and forth, making her take his cock deeper down her throat with each leisurely thrust. She swallowed, wanting more of that long, hot shaft while she kneaded his seed sac ever so gently, feeling the twin orbs within shift against her seeking fingers.

  Lord William’s hot cock between her thighs probed her puckered rear passage. Slippery with her own honey, it sought entrance. Will’s callused palms rasped against her tender flesh as he squeezed her buttocks, spreading the plump, moist cheeks for his cock.

  “You want her cunt or her ass, Gavin?” he asked as though offering the breast or a leg of a roast duck on his trencher. “Our father tells me you’re Lord of Misrule, so you rightfully deserve first choice.”

  “I want her cunt.” Gavin’s reply was barely audible since he didn’t bother to move his mouth away from Mavis’s slit. Apparently Will heard it, though. Before Evelyn had time to think, he’d positioned his cock and pushed until its jeweled head popped past the tight muscle and seated itself within her ass.

  Ohhhh. It hurt, yet she wanted more. Wanted Will’s big cock to fill her there, her betrothed’s to replace the slender object that barely filled her cunt.

  Slowly. When Will buried himself deeper, the throbbing heat seared her ass. Her moans reverberated around Gavin’s cock that stuffed her mouth. Sensation flooded her, made her tremble at the dual invasion even as her quim wept for more.

  “Come take her cunt,” Will said. “I warrant it’s as tight and welcoming as her ass.”

  Evelyn heard a slap of flesh on flesh, and a whining protest from Mavis. Then Gavin laughed. “Up with you, Mavis. Go play with yourself whilst I fuck Mistress Evie. You may choose one of the toys from yonder box.”

  Every one of his bulging muscles, each inch of his golden hairless skin set Evelyn’s nerve endings on fire when Gavin slid beneath her. His steaming shaft seared her belly, her mound, the tight little love button that begged for attention. Another hand—Will’s, she thought—reached under her belly and retrieved the dildo from her cunt. When Will raised her, he thrust forward, burying his cock to the balls in her ass. His seed sac wedged between her ass cheeks.

  It hurt. But it felt good, too. The burning, stretching sensation. The incredible heat that overtook her when Gavin’s jeweled cockhead sought and found her quim, slid home.

  God’s blood but she’d never felt so full. So taken. The brothers’ two big cocks impaled her, stretching her. Throbbing within her body, the tandem motions bounced off the thin wall of tissue that separated them. “Ohhh, melords,” she whimpered, barely remembering in her passion to disguise her speech—recalling just in time that she played the role of a wanton serf girl.

  “Like this, do you?” Gavin asked, flexing his hips and sliding in her cunt up to his balls while his brother slid out of her rear. God’s blood. They fucked in perfect harmony. Delicious, hot sensations bubbled in her cunt. Gavin’s hands kneaded her breasts, tugged at her nipples. He nipped the soft flesh at her throat, took it in his mouth and suckled. Tongued it as if to soothe the bruise he made with his teeth and lips.

  The dual assault was too much. The pleasure too great. Pressure built with each rocking thrust, each brush of Gavin’s hard ridged abdomen against her soft, rounded belly, every nudge of Will’s against her ass cheeks. Gavin’s scratchy cheek abraded her throat, her jaw. Every hard pinch of his fingers on her distended nipples dragged her closer to ecstasy. When they increased the pace, rocking her harder between their bodies and ramming their big cocks deeper into her quivering holes, she came in long, exhausting bursts.

  Starbursts, blue, red, gold, purple exploded in her head as the two cocks spasmed within her body, spurting wave after wave of steaming seed into her cunt. Her ass. The heat of her orgasm mellowed into a warm glow when they lay back, one on either side of her, each holding her as though they’d not easily let her go.

  Evelyn would have liked to sleep in the brothers’ identical strong arms but she dared not. Untangling herself from their embraces, she admired their big hard bodies whilst she put on her gown, then gave out a sigh as she and Mavis took their leave.

  ‘Twas God’s own pity she couldn’t wed them both.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Twas the first day of Christmas. Wine flowed and all manner of sweetmeats and pies accompanied the usual bread and cheese with which the occupants of Summerfield Castle broke their fast. Two burly men-at-arms turned a spit on which a whole deer was being roasted for the coming feast. More men tended the hearths in the kitchen, where Cook presided over the preparation of the traditional boar’s head, more mincemeat pies, and several swans whose roasted carcasses would be refeathered ere the evening meal began.

  Named Lord of Misrule by his parents before the hunt where he’d personally skewered that unfortunate boar, Gavin lost no time once they’d returned to the hall in leading the Yuletide merriment. His first order was for his twin to bestow kisses on every lady and wench caught breakfasting in the great hall.

  He laughed when Will returned to the high table, his cock tenting his tunic. “Methinks you lingered to
o long with the MacFarlane wench, brother. Remember her sire, and that the acorn falls not far from the tree. She’s as likely to skewer you as suck your cock.” Gavin leaned back in his lord father’s high-backed chair and considered what mischief he’d order next.

  Will laughed at the warning. “Never fear, my misguided Lord of Misrule. I’ll guard my back. And my cock. Where is the plump pigeon we sandwich fucked yestereve?”

  Gavin wondered that himself, until he remembered. “She said she came from the village. Mayhaps I’ll visit her there ere I order the firing of the Yule log. Nay. I want not to wait that long to fuck her again.” He spied the other wench, and bellowed, “Mavis! Come you to me.”

  The wench bowed low, giving both twins a fine view of her pert, ripe breasts. Gavin took her hand, bid her rise. “Fetch Evie to me. She stole away yestereve while we two dozed. Off with you. I’d see her ere we go to drag in the Yule log.”

  His lady mother shot him a look that needed no translation. She was not happy that he’d publicly singled out one of the castle sluts. She’d be less thrilled if he ordered another one to service him before one and all. When she turned back to his father, though, Gavin decided another order might serve him well. “As Lord of Misrule, I order the Earl and Countess of Summerfield to retire to their bedchamber. Methinks they need more rest this Christmas Day.”

  His father laughed, then stood and took Lady Jasmine’s hand. “We thank you, my Lord of Misrule. I’ve been away too many wintry nights, and I long to pass this day with none but my lady. My people, I wish you all a Happy Christmas. We will take our leave, and join you again ere the feasting begins—with permission of Gavin, Lord of Misrule.”

  After waving his parents away, Gavin set the assembled knights and ladies to dancing and singing familiar carols while he waited impatiently for Evie. His time for play could end at any moment—would necessarily end with the arrival of his betrothed. While he didn’t expect to care particularly for her, he’d not insult her by dallying with a peasant wench before her aristocratic nose. ‘Struth, he held out a shred of hope that in Lady Evelyn he’d find the sort of love his uncle Giles had discovered with the stranger he’d been ordered by King Henry to wed.