Warprize (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards, 5)(MFMMMMMM) Read Online Free PDF Page A

insult you,
Bloodwynne. I merely thought—"
    "I am quite capable of managing a
bride. But thank you. Your concern for your niece is
admirable."
    Suddenly the musicians began to play
and Dom tore his gaze away from the person at his side, pretending
to pay heed to the entertainment. A lot of trouble had been taken
to prepare a good welcome for Lady Rosamund and her escort, it
seemed. Perhaps they were hoping all the noise, food, ale and
excitement would keep "Rufus Redbeard" from noticing the obvious—
that Cedney Bloodwynne was a very feminine young man and quite
possibly, from the way he looked at Dom, had a preference for male
company in his bed.
    He wouldn't be the first such man to
take a wife for the sake of appearances and to beget offspring. For
someone in his position, as Bloodwynne himself had said, it was a
duty to marry. No doubt he planned to go through with it because
this was expected of him, despite where his true desires
lay.
    Dom felt sorry for the lad. It could
not be very enjoyable to fuck as a duty. But he could still take
male lovers on the side, of course, as the need arose.
    Speaking of needs
arising...
    He reached down to adjust himself
again and let his eyes casually sweep over the crowded tables.
There had to be a woman here tonight with whom he could slake this
raw lust. The girl who had been summoned to fill his goblet was
plump, cheerful, bosomy. A likely candidate for a quick, hard,
satisfying fuck. Yes, he could enjoy a good rutting with her. She'd
just flashed her brown eyes toward him and smiled. He could see her
large nipples pressing against the front of her wool gown and her
rounded hips undulated as she stood with her back to the wall. Very
nice. He could be buried up to his balls in wet pussy in a very few
minutes.
     
    * * * *
     
    Cedney saw him slip away from the
festivities. She'd also seen the playful widow, Alaya, disappear
through the same door a few moments before.
    The musicians were still playing, she
thought angrily, couldn't he even wait until the performance was
over? Apparently not.
    Biting savagely into her honey cake,
she tried to ignore the hot, writhing beast newly awoken in her
belly. What was wrong with her that she should become so
distracted? Her father would be furious that she let these
forbidden womanly feelings creep in. Yes, Cedney knew what they
were. She was not ignorant of her own desires, despite every effort
to bury them. She had a terrible need to be touched, the way a
woman should be touched. It had first come upon her when she was
fifteen, watching soldiers bathe nude in the stream that ran
through her property. Tonight it was a sensation stronger than
ever— entirely the fault of Rufus Redbeard and his
proximity.
    She wished he hadn't announced an
intention to stay longer. But on the other hand her heart had
soared when he suggested it. Her palms were moist with sweat, her
head spinning with confusion. Duty battled with desire. Oh, the
scent of him had almost undone her. Even now he was gone from her
side— supposedly to relieve himself in the yard— her pulse danced
like wind chimes left to rattle after a passing breeze.
    Lady Rosamund yawned suddenly and that
was excuse enough for Cedney to send her bride off to
bed.
    "I will see you before the day's hunt
tomorrow, my lady," she said, kissing Rosamund's hand and bowing.
"It is tradition here for the bride to wave her groom off and bless
the hunt on the day before their wedding. We will bring home the
meat for the celebration feast."
    The Norman lady looked at her blankly,
so she gestured as if riding a horse and then firing an arrow,
followed by an eating motion.
    Whether this was understood she had no
idea. Cedney could probably have hammered together a few awkward
words in French to get her point across, but she was in too much
hurry at that moment to try. As soon as Rosamund and her elderly
nurse had left the hall, Cedney backed away from the crowd, quietly
and discretely, until she could slide