Claiming A Lady (3 page)

“Will you seal to me, Gawen?”

The question was so unexpected, he faltered
in his thrust, stopping halfway inside her. Bavin circled her hips,
mewing in delight.

“Gawen?”

“You want me to seal before the marriage
night?” he managed to gasp out.

Her hips circled again. “If my father
wouldn’t object to it, I’d have you ask Thorald to marry us
tonight.”

He sank down over her, pushing in to the hilt
and stilling there. “Would you?”

Bavin nodded shakily, attempting to move her
hips beneath his bulk. “You...” She grasped at his arms, her inner
muscles hinting at another climax building in her.
“Oh...Gawen.”

“You wish me to seal to you before we are
joined?”

“We are joined.” Her breathing was ragged and
her eyes half-closed in what appeared to be bliss.

“Say it, Bavin. Do you wish it?” If she did,
he was more than capable of following through.

“Yes. I want you to seal to me.”

“Be sure.”

“I am. Gawen, please --”

He started thrusting again, more animal than
man, burning in the need to seal their souls. Bavin’s body
responded fiercely, her inner muscles contracting around him.

Gawen indulged this time, roaring as his body
emptied into hers, his breath catching in his lungs at the peace
and tenderness stealing over his soul. In the glow of it, he
touched Bavin’s face, marveling at the gentle streak only she and
Regana brought out in him.

* * * *

Two weeks later

“Tell us, Bavin.” Anabilia fairly vibrated in
excitement.

Bavin felt her cheeks heat. “Yes. We are
sharing a bed,” she confirmed the rumors. Laughs and little squeals
punctuated the air, and she darkened further.

“How long did he wait?” Evfemia asked in a
whisper, her eyes wide in wonder.

“He didn’t,” she confided. “My maiden’s blood
stained his bed the first night, and he sealed before his...manly
parts tasted air once more.”

Ingela’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You
didn’t! Bavin, that’s...that’s --”

“Gods, it’s wonderful,” she replied, her
heart aching at the hours until Gawen came to
walk
with her
again.

“Then why aren’t you sharing his home?” Lela
inquired.

Bavin looked around, spying her father on the
other side of the marketplace. “I’m certain my father knows I share
Gawen’s bed, but he is not prepared to accept that...” How could
she say it?

“What?” Lenne and Ingela asked together.
Lenne continued. “What doesn’t your father know? That Gawen has
sealed to you?”

“Well, he doesn’t know it,” Bavin agreed.
“But...”

“Oh, tell us, Bavin,” Anabilia urged her.
“Please. Ditrich has only just started playing at love games with
me, and Evfemia has fared no better. Lela, Lenne, and Ingela
haven’t had more than a kiss yet.”

“Your own fault,” Bavin imparted. “Trust me.
If you show interest in it, your men will gladly play at nearly
whatever you wish with them.”

“What doesn’t your father know?” Lela
asked.

Bavin smiled, wrapping her arms around her
waist in contentment. “I carry Gawen’s child. I was at the fertile
time when we... Gawen confirmed it for me a few days ago.”

For a moment, no one commented. Then a second
round of joyous squeals issued forth.

Anabilia wrapped her arms around Bavin. “You
are so lucky. I cannot wait to carry for Ditrich.”

“Then you must urge him to take you fully to
his bed,” Bavin counseled.

“How does a woman do such a thing?” Lela
asked, her frustration seeping into her tone.

Ingela gaped at her, clearly scandalized by
the question.

“Well, I want to know,” Lela defended
herself.

The other women laughed, and Ingela joined
them. “I do, as well,” she admitted.

Bavin opened her mouth to instruct them, the
words sticking in her throat at the shadow creeping over her. She
turned her head, panning her gaze up to meet Gawen’s eyes. One brow
was raised in amusement.

Forgetting herself and their surroundings,
Bavin threw herself into Gawen’s arms. His mouth closed on hers in
a true lover’s kiss, and his arms encircled her, pressing a bundle
of something soft to her spine.

After a moment, he broke off the kiss. His
lips trailed to her ear. “And will you urge me?” he teased in a
whisper.

Bavin’s face burned in embarrassment. “Are
you angry with me?” She hoped he wasn’t, but who knew how a man
would take such a discussion.

“You are making me the envy of all of my
brethren. Why would I be angry?”

She laughed.

Gawen pressed a quick kiss to her lips,
pulling the bundle from behind her and settling it into her
hands.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Cloth. I thought you might like a new dress
or two for the ceremony...and to start on clothing for our
son.”

Her breathing hitched at that. “I would. Oh,
Gawen, thank you.”

His smile was wide and brilliant. He leaned
to press a soft kiss to her lips. That close, he whispered a
parting comment. “For each of my brothers that finds relief from
your...instruction, I will grant you pleasures unlike any you’ve
felt so far,” he promised.

She stared at him, dumbstruck.

“Thank you for easing their burden, Bavin. I
will come to walk with you this evening.”

With that, he raised his head, tipped it --
most probably to her father -- and hurried back to practice.

She watched him go, her heart skipping at the
interplay of muscle she knew so well. Bavin returned to the circle
of women, holding the fabric to her heart.

“What is it?” Evfemia asked, fingering the
edge of the bundle.

“Fine cloth to make a new dress from...and
wraps for our child together.” She smiled at the thought of it.

“How do we urge them?” Anabilia inquired.
“Please, tell us.”

Bavin chuckled. “You can start with inquiries
about what they do with the widows and what you’ve heard men
do...or even with what they wish to do with you.”

The others leaned closer, hanging on every
word she spoke.

“And if that fails?” Lela asked.

“Try touching his member while he kisses you.
He is certain to ask if you want more.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Did you do that?” Ingela asked. She didn’t
sound nearly as scandalized as she had moments before.

Bavin smiled, nodding her agreement.

The others shared looks that spoke their
uncertainty. Then the questions began in earnest. If all of them
weren’t bedded fully by the end of the week, it wouldn’t be for
lack of trying.

* * * *

The following night

Bavin gasped against Gawen’s marauding
tongue, acutely aware of his fingers working her skirts up. They
were in the forest, not even halfway to their bed, but he seemed to
be intent on taking her on his cloak on the forest floor.

Yes! Now!
She had no clue what had
prompted this, but the gods knew she wanted it.

As if in answer, Gawen worked the ties on his
trews loose and shoved them away. His fingers played at her sheath
long enough to confirm her readiness and then spread her wide for
his the crown of his cock.

Gawen slipped inside, stretching her one
muscle at a time. She clawed at his tunic, gasping out pleas for
more.

“You are such a good leader,” he breathed.
“Such a good match for me.”

Bavin stared at him, confused by that
announcement. “Leader?” She was no leader.

His smile was wide and warm, his hips moving
back and forth in torturously slow thrusts that scattered her
thinking mind. She gasped out a denial that she was a leader.

Gawen chuckled. “Two of my brothers claimed
their mates last eve, Bavin. Your instruction was very
effective.”

“And will your instruction be likewise?” she
managed to ask.

“After you come for me here, I will spend
half the night
instructing
you in our bed. That will be
payment enough for one of them.”

“Half...” She couldn’t fathom so long in his
bed. Gawen always came for her before sunset and delivered her home
close after. His hunting came first.
And it should.

“When the last claims his mate, you will
spend the whole night with me.”

“But... You said --”

“Your father suspects we bed together, Bavin.
He will simply assume this is our first night bedding fully. He
will know the truth of how long we have when your belly fills with
my son. I’m certain he will survive the occasional night of your
empty bed in preparation for when it will be permanent.”

She couldn’t form words to that. Even if she
could have thanked the gods or him for so precious a gift, her
contracting body -- followed by the flow of his potent seed --
stole her ability to speak.

Gawen laid a kiss on her forehead, humming in
contentment. “Say you will be my lady and lie in my bed with me,”
he requested.

“Always.” It was the only word that made
sense, in answer to that.

About the Author

Brenna Lyons wears many hats, sometimes all
on the same day: president of EPIC, author of more than 80
published works, teacher, wife, mother...member of ERWA, MWW,
IWOFA, MFRW, WPM, and Broad Universe. In Brenna’s seven years
published in novel-length, she's finaled for 11 EPPIES, 3 PEARLS
(including one HM, second to Angela Knight), and a Dream Realm
Award.

She writes in 21 established worlds plus
stand-alones, poetry, articles, and essays. She's a bestseller in
indie/e fantasy, horror, and erom. Brenna has been termed "one of
the most deviant erotic minds in the publishing world...not for the
weak." (Rachelle for Fallen Angels Reviews) Milieu-heavy dark work
is practically Brenna's calling card, with or without the erotic
content.

Brenna enjoys hearing from people who read
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