Droit De Seigneur (12 page)

Amber heard the door being unlocked and stood, having donned her wedding dress, since it was the only clothing available to her in the room. She did not want to face him nude, with the reminders of his chastisement still rife on her posterior.

Just thinking about seeing her had his body ready to do that which he hadn’t the time to do, and actually seeing her had him aching to the point that he thought he would soil himself as he stood there, gazing at her like some love addled boy. “You must pack right now. You are to accompany the King and I to the site of the new castle.” Shaking himself out of his reverie, he strode into the room.

She was dumbstruck. Home! She was going home! She flew towards the door, only to be halted by her husband’s voice from behind her. “Where are you going, wife?” Amber stopped instantly and turned. “All of my things are in my former chamber.” Piers nodded his head. “You may go. I will have one of the servants move whatever remains up here while we’re gone.”

She took a step towards him, saying calmly, “If I may, I would like to do that. I need to begin to assume the task of running your household as your lady. Mrs. Tulane’s been wonderful at it, but that is my duty, and the servants should become accustomed to doing as I ask.” He inclined his head toward her. “A wise thought, wife. Please do so.” Inordinately proud at his praise, Amber dropped into a very formal curtsey, saying, “My lord,” before she turned to leave.

She didn’t make it there before she heard, “Come here,” and adjusted mid stride to end up at his side. His fingers cupped her jaw and brought her face to his for an ardent kiss. “I would more prefer a heartfelt kiss from you on parting than any graceful curtsey, but I did like the

‘milord’ touch.” He wore a rascal’s smile, and Amber realized he was teasing her at the end.

She wasn’t quite sure what to say in return, but dropped an impulsive kiss on his cheek and fairly ran to the door.

Piers watched quite avidly as she left, thinking it was nice to see her so happy.

Traveling with the King was entirely different from traveling alone on a horse with Piers.

They were surrounded by a contingent of the King’s guard, who were heavily armed. Regardless of the fact that the area they were going to was known to be somewhat insecure, the King liked to ride up front, and so that was where Piers was, also. Not to be left out, Lady Amber was right behind him, and, occasionally, when she jockeyed for the right position, she was next to him, although the men around them didn’t like to give way to a woman.

They were a huge contingent of men and horses, with pack animals at the back carrying all manner of supplies. Amber, of course, had her own pack full of notions and herbs and powders, as well as her bow and arrows, several knives, and, just in case she needed them, her boy’s clothes. She was also wearing a reasonable amount of discrete armament. She liked to be prepared.

The first day passed with few remarkable events, save their grand exit, during which Josette prostrated herself, yet again, but this time at Fitzwilliam’s feet instead of Piers. Amber made so bold at the time as to lean over to her husband and whispered in his ear exactly what she was thinking, “Fickle woman!”

And she was rewarded by his hearty chuckle. They were both thrown an evil glare by Lady Constance, who could not possibly have overheard the remark, but who none the less still thought ill of the two of them, somehow, as if by default.

Dinner that evening was plentiful around them, but when the men had their bows out, Piers happened to look around him and see that his wife had joined the hunting party, too. He hissed at her to get back to their small camp and see to the fire, which was what the rest of the men had assumed that she was doing. He heard her exasperated sigh and knew that she would much rather have been out hunting with them, but, to her credit, she did exactly as he told her to do.

Piers hadn’t had a chance to speak to her about what he expected of her now that she had had such a sudden change – and rise – in life. He’d intended on doing that this morning once he’d returned to their chamber, but the King had had other ideas. He made a mental note that hunting – especially with the King – was something she wasn’t allowed to do.

When they made it back with a brace of rabbits, it was to a beautiful fire and the smell of roasting rabbit. His wife was busily cleaning the skins, and King William was rhapsodizing about what a marvelous wife he’d gotten in the bargain. Bruce, who knew that Piers was none to happy with his wife’s abilities in this instance, piled their kills next to Amber, who smiled up at him. In a trice, all of the meat was cooked off, and they probably wouldn’t have to hunt again until the return trip, plus, once they got home, they would have new furs for several of the soldier’s beds.

“Amber, attend me,” he ordered, grabbing a fur and trudging into the woods.

She did as he was told, as quickly as she could, extracting herself from underneath the skins and grabbing her pack to follow him, wondering if he’d been wounded during the hunt and if she was bringing the right equipment to deal with whatever medical situation might have arisen.

They walked for a good ways. Piers, who was dealing with a wealth of anger but at the same time having to wrestle with his ever present desire for her, wanted to be well away from the King and their men before he spoke to her. Finally, he grabbed her upper arm and pulled her up against him. “What do you think you were doing back there? Didn’t I tell you just to tend the fire?” he hissed.

Surprised, she answered, “Yes, and I did. But it was taking you so long; I thought you might be having problems. So I stoked up the fire and went hunting on my own. I didn’t want the King to go hungry.”

Piers was incensed. “I will provide for the King, wife. Not you. No more hunting.” Amber looked crushed. “Ever?”

“Not without my express permission, wife.” He couldn’t take it any longer, reaching for the hem of her dress and tugging it up, realizing it was one of her old ones, and noting that he needed to set the seamstresses to making her some clothes that reflected her new station.

But for the time being, he didn’t care much whether she was clothed or not – except when she was in front of other men. Right now, the less she was wearing the better, although for safety and discretion’s sake, he kept himself in check and simply made adjustments for himself and lifted her skirt. They were joined before she could say yea or nay, and it was the first time he’d encountered her being even the slightest bit dry.

Even so, she sank down on him through gravity’s assistance, slowly; feeling every inch of herself being devoured and claimed, and he couldn’t think that that was a bad thing, despite her low, almost anguished moan and the way her small fists pounded futilely against his broad shoulders. Amber was the kind of woman that benefited from the feeling of being overpowered and taken on a multiple levels. And he knew, that during the natural course of events, she would moisten whether she wanted to or not. He was going to see to that.

Piers backed her up against a sturdy oak, lifting her legs around his waist and making sure her dress was far enough up to expose her buttocks. He reached down to grab them tightly, partly for grip, to support her and keep her in place while he pumped into her once, hard, just testing the waters.

She was still so tight. A newly opened virgin. His, completely. She would never, ever know another man.

The thought was nearly enough to drive him over the brink, but he had something else in mind that he had to reel himself in for.

When he arched back a bit, pinning her with his hips and the spike of himself inside her, he could see that her eyes were squinched closed. “Am I hurting you?” he asked, genuinely interested in her answer.

“No, it doesn’t hurt so much as it aches.”

“Good ache, or bad ache?” He flexed his hips and she groaned, back deep in her throat.

He had his answer.

“Good – “

“Shhhh. I know.” Piers nibbled her neck and the side of her cheek, then arched back again, his hands still clenching her bottom tightly. “Look at me, Amber, my flower.” She opened her eyes, and his face was very close to hers. His size always startled her, how they were able to fit together at all. He always loomed so large over her, and now inside her.

She felt as if she was going to burst, she was so stretched full of him.

“When I tell you to tend the fire, that’s what you do.” His hands left her rear long enough to crack each cheek from the side, hard. It wasn’t an orthodox position for a spanking, and it wasn’t quite as rigorous as he would usually deliver, but it would get his point across, as he continued to fuck her rhythmically. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to continue either the lecture or the spanking, because at some point the fucking was going to take it all over, but he would soldier on until he was overtaken. He used the thrusts of his hips, as well as the palm of his hand, to accent certain words. “You knew when I sent you back that I didn’t want you hunting.”

She opened her mouth to argue with him, and earned herself a flurry of swats that rivaled any other punishment he’d given her. And they mixed with the distinct pleasure of his possession, of this new sensation of being filled almost beyond her capability. And he was teasing and tantalizing her with his body in this new way that had her clinging to him breathlessly.

She refused to admit that the spanking added anything pleasurable in the least, despite the evidence he’d shown her himself in the past. But it did. She knew that those two very strong responses were warring within her, and that that rivalry had already paved the way to deepen his possession of her.

Piers could feel her distress and knew the moment she had begun to feel her own pleasure

– whether it was a result of their joining or his palm cracking on her rear, or even the lecture he was delivering. He could feel her tensions release around him, feel the way slickening, and suddenly he was hilt deep and unable to speak, spank or think.

He just wanted her.

His hands naturally found the rough tree trunk, planting themselves there and hanging her from her knees, leaving her completely open to him as he took his pleasure with her. And that was what it was. He’d always prided himself on pleasuring his woman, especially when he knew most men didn’t bother, but this time, he couldn’t even manage to do that. All he could do was take her, mate with her, claim her as his own with a primal scream that he knew the men, sitting around the fire, would laugh about.

But when he was done, he knew she ached for the same release he’d had, and, though she struggled liked a pinned butterfly, he wouldn’t let her go until he felt her attain the same sweet release, with an echoing cry of pure ecstasy.

He was right. When they returned to the fire, they were teased mercilessly, until William put his foot down, telling them that they were all just jealous, including himself, who was missing his wife.

Piers and Amber spent the second night of their marriage cuddled together on the ground, spooned with Piers sword arm tight around Amber’s waist, just in case she decided to wander during the night. He wouldn’t put anything past her, especially the closer they got to her home territory.

She brightened noticeably as they did, and Piers found himself glad that they wouldn’t be too far from her family once they settled into the castle. He assured her that she would have time to see her family, but they would be going to the site first and making camp there, which they did.

They hadn’t had much word as to the condition of the construction, and it was worse than they thought when they got there. Not much had been done at all, and there weren’t very many men there, working on it, when they got there. Piers was hard pressed to find the person in charge, and the man he’d put in charge seemed to be gone altogether.

Amber could feel the scornful eyes of her neighbors on her again, as she always had in the past. But this time was different. She was their countess, not that they knew it yet, since she had yet to be introduced to them as such.

But she had a feeling she could be of assistance to Piers in this situation, since she knew most of the people he would be dealing with. She didn’t want to interrupt his discussion with the King, or cause him to lose face in any way.

So she begged the King’s pardon in a pretty way, asking if she might borrow her husband for a moment for a woman’s matter. The King seemed to like her, and was feeling indulgent, so he granted her that boon.

Piers, however, was not. They were right in the middle of negotiations to get things back underway when Amber had interrupted them. She began walking them over to a small shop, well away from the rest of them and the construction site.

“This had better be something very important, wife, or I’m going to be extremely unhappy, and so is your backside this evening, or as soon as I can attend to it.” Amber looked up at him and smiled. “I want help. I know these people and I can be of assistance to you. You shouldn’t be working with John Smith. He’ll do exactly what he’s already done to you – take your money and do nothing once you’re out of sight. Cut him off before you lose any more money and go with Robert Squires and his family. He has nine boys, and they’re all hard workers. You’ll get your money’s worth. Give them half the price up front, and half when it’s done. Promise them a good bonus if it’s done a year ahead of time, and I bet you’ll they’ll meet it. Throw in that I’ll come once a month to see to the workers health, if you like.” He considered her idea for a moment. She had several salient points, and she did know the people and the area. He wish he’d known her when he’d first come here.

As answer, Piers leaned down and captured her mouth with his in an infinitely gentle kiss, one that he was happy to note she returned whole heartedly. “You, my wife, are a wonder.

The King is right to praise you, and I need to take a page from his book and begin to do more of that. Although I think I’ll definitely continue the discipline, too.” She was smiling at him as if he’d set the sun to rising this morning, and, at that point, he didn’t care whether the damned castle ever got built, as long as she continued to look at him like that.