Read Online A Love for All Time by Bertrice Small - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bertrice Small
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flesh, but Faith was pulling away from him to rub her pink-tipped breasts over his face. He groaned and captured a nipple to suck upon. Then Grace was mounting him, and plunging down to encase him within her hot sheath while Faith straddled his head offering him her hidden flesh to feast upon.
The twins had not lied when they claimed proficiency in the arts of love. Each time he believed himself close to release they seemed to sense it, and they would pull back, switching places to begin anew with him until he thought that he was going to burst so fierce was his passion. He realized that he was not in control of the situation, and he found it an uncomfortable position to be in for it was Grace and Faith who were manipulating his condition. Only when they deemed it permissible was he allowed release.
Once roused they were wild women finding nothing too strange, or daring to do. Conn was, at first, enchanted with his good fortune, but then as the night wore on he began to realize they would kill him with their loving if he did not regain a mastery of their circumstances. He began by pushing Grace away from him as she sought to mount him once again.
“No! I’ll do my own fucking, sweeting,” he told her, and when she protested he sat up, and pulling her across his lap spanked her across her plump bottom, and pushed her from the bed onto the floor. Surprised Grace began to weep, but Conn paid little attention to her instead yanking the more compliant Faith beneath him, he mounted her, and thrusting himself into her, moved furiously upon her until he was at last able to spill his seed in a glorious wild burst that left him exhausted and drained. “Get me some wine, Grace,” he commanded, and she rushed to do his bidding. Within minutes he had been revived, and he gave to Grace that which he had given her twin sister. Then firmly sending both girls home, he fell asleep.
In the morning Conn vowed that never again would he entertain Mistress Grace and Mistress Faith Holden. He felt as if he had been battered, and his lean and long body was covered with bite and scratch marks. After he had bathed in a hot tub that Cluny prepared he stood nude before the pier glass examining himself with shock. He had not felt them marking him. His handsome face was unmarked, and as he stared into the glass his green eyes stared back from beneath heavy black brows. The Handsomest Man at Court, he thought, looking at himself closely as if he expected to find something different or unusual. He knew that he was a handsome man for he was neither a fool, nor coy. He was clean-shaven, the better to show off his chiseled, somewhat squared jaw with its dimple. He had a long, straight nose in perfect proportion with his size for he stood six feet four inches tall in his stocking feet. His cheekbones were high, and sculpted giving him a look of vulnerability that was borne out in the high forehead, and his mouth which was almost too delicate for such a big man, being thin-lipped rather than wide. He was very fair-skinned for a man which only made his dark hair seem all the darker, particularly as one errant lock of hair persisted in tumbling over his brow, giving him a boyish look he deplored. Long legs, long torso, broad chest and shoulders that needed no padding—he looked magnificent in his clothing. His brother-in-law Adam de Marisco had said when he had first seen Conn in decent clothing, “By God, the women will be throwing themselves at his feet,” a statement quickly borne out for truth. He had also said that they would end up in altercations with many of the gentlemen at court due to Conn’s handsomeness.
Conn, however, had managed to avoid fighting with possibly outraged husbands and fathers by his utmost discretion in matters of the heart. He was wise enough to realize that brawling, particularly public brawling, would lose him royal favor, and he knew that gold could get him only just so far. He owed his position to Elizabeth Tudor, but
The twins had not lied when they claimed proficiency in the arts of love. Each time he believed himself close to release they seemed to sense it, and they would pull back, switching places to begin anew with him until he thought that he was going to burst so fierce was his passion. He realized that he was not in control of the situation, and he found it an uncomfortable position to be in for it was Grace and Faith who were manipulating his condition. Only when they deemed it permissible was he allowed release.
Once roused they were wild women finding nothing too strange, or daring to do. Conn was, at first, enchanted with his good fortune, but then as the night wore on he began to realize they would kill him with their loving if he did not regain a mastery of their circumstances. He began by pushing Grace away from him as she sought to mount him once again.
“No! I’ll do my own fucking, sweeting,” he told her, and when she protested he sat up, and pulling her across his lap spanked her across her plump bottom, and pushed her from the bed onto the floor. Surprised Grace began to weep, but Conn paid little attention to her instead yanking the more compliant Faith beneath him, he mounted her, and thrusting himself into her, moved furiously upon her until he was at last able to spill his seed in a glorious wild burst that left him exhausted and drained. “Get me some wine, Grace,” he commanded, and she rushed to do his bidding. Within minutes he had been revived, and he gave to Grace that which he had given her twin sister. Then firmly sending both girls home, he fell asleep.
In the morning Conn vowed that never again would he entertain Mistress Grace and Mistress Faith Holden. He felt as if he had been battered, and his lean and long body was covered with bite and scratch marks. After he had bathed in a hot tub that Cluny prepared he stood nude before the pier glass examining himself with shock. He had not felt them marking him. His handsome face was unmarked, and as he stared into the glass his green eyes stared back from beneath heavy black brows. The Handsomest Man at Court, he thought, looking at himself closely as if he expected to find something different or unusual. He knew that he was a handsome man for he was neither a fool, nor coy. He was clean-shaven, the better to show off his chiseled, somewhat squared jaw with its dimple. He had a long, straight nose in perfect proportion with his size for he stood six feet four inches tall in his stocking feet. His cheekbones were high, and sculpted giving him a look of vulnerability that was borne out in the high forehead, and his mouth which was almost too delicate for such a big man, being thin-lipped rather than wide. He was very fair-skinned for a man which only made his dark hair seem all the darker, particularly as one errant lock of hair persisted in tumbling over his brow, giving him a boyish look he deplored. Long legs, long torso, broad chest and shoulders that needed no padding—he looked magnificent in his clothing. His brother-in-law Adam de Marisco had said when he had first seen Conn in decent clothing, “By God, the women will be throwing themselves at his feet,” a statement quickly borne out for truth. He had also said that they would end up in altercations with many of the gentlemen at court due to Conn’s handsomeness.
Conn, however, had managed to avoid fighting with possibly outraged husbands and fathers by his utmost discretion in matters of the heart. He was wise enough to realize that brawling, particularly public brawling, would lose him royal favor, and he knew that gold could get him only just so far. He owed his position to Elizabeth Tudor, but
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