Read Online Bondslave (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards #1 ) by Georgia Fox - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Georgia Fox
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were content.
"Is it always like this?" she whispered. "You and your brothers?"
"Not always. Most times we do share. It is only right if we are together."
"Then you are not possessive of your women?"
He smirked lazily. "Oh, we are possessive too. Of anything that belongs to us."
"I don't understand."
"What belongs to one of us," he lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips, "belongs to all seven."
She was quiet for a while, and he listened to the fire crackling, the smoky air and sexual musk filling his nostrils, seeping in through his skin. How did he explain his family to this Saxon girl? Having grown up tussling and tupping in close companionship with his brothers, he'd only realized, a few years ago, that not all families were like his. Most weren't.
The brothers d'Anzeray might be scrappers who learned to fight as soon as they learned to walk, but they also protected and defended each other against the world that slandered them every chance it got. This loyalty meant trust of an extraordinary depth and the desire to share all good things between them. When together the seven were as one.
"I've never known men like you," she muttered finally, confirming his thoughts.
"And what do you think of us, Princesa?"
She tilted her head back and looked up at him. "I'm glad I met you."
Her eyes were bright green that evening. Again he was shocked, for the brown was gone. It was spring again and then summer in her gaze, with sun and birdsong and the fragrance of lavender. For a moment he was back to his merry youth in Normandy, when there were no troubles and life was simple. When he waded in the stream, trying to catch fish on his sharpened stick, showing off for the rosy-cheeked peasant girls on his father's land.
His opportunity looked at him as if he were her savior, and his heart quaked.
Eventually Princesa laid her head on his shoulder, yawned, and finally slept.
Listening to her gentle snores, he ran fingers lightly over her damp, gleaming hair and considered his future. And hers.
Chapter Eight
She woke as daylight crept in through gaps in the timber walls. Her first thought was that she was nude and why then did she feel no cold? It was winter and the fire in the hearth had died away to smoldering ash. Yet she was warm, comfortable as a babe in swaddling.
Lifting her head, she looked around and realized the pack had gathered around her to keep her sheltered and protected all night. Lost under a pile of heavy limbs, she might have felt trapped, if not for the memory of how each brother had tended to her.
Raul lay before her, an arm around her waist, his eyelashes twitching gently as he dreamed, his lips parted to exhale a steady sigh. Behind her was Dom, his hand splayed upon her hip, his wine-scented breath moving her hair with every snore. Laid with their arms around her legs there were Alonso and Sebastien. Salvador slept above her on the fur, the top of her head resting in the curve of his chest.
Yawning, she moved slightly to stretch and almost instantly felt the push of a hard dick at her back. Dominigo, it seemed, had woken too and suffered a stiff morning friend. His hand moved from her hip to her belly and tried inching her closer to him, but this motion woke Raul, who was apparently in no mood to loosen his grip on her waist. Reaching her arms around his neck Princesa wriggled upward and kissed her master, pressing her breasts against the hard planes of his chest at the same time and letting his dark hairs tickle her nipples.
"Good morning, Master."
Behind her, Dom nibbled her shoulder. "What about me?" he whispered thickly. "Do I get no greeting?"
She looked at Raul. Eyes still narrowed sleepily he nodded to her, so she turned her head and kissed his brother too. Immediately that stiff battering ram of a cock was forcing its way between her buttocks, seeking a way in again. Every part of her ached and was sore that morning, as she knew it would be, but when Raul moved his hand between her
"Is it always like this?" she whispered. "You and your brothers?"
"Not always. Most times we do share. It is only right if we are together."
"Then you are not possessive of your women?"
He smirked lazily. "Oh, we are possessive too. Of anything that belongs to us."
"I don't understand."
"What belongs to one of us," he lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips, "belongs to all seven."
She was quiet for a while, and he listened to the fire crackling, the smoky air and sexual musk filling his nostrils, seeping in through his skin. How did he explain his family to this Saxon girl? Having grown up tussling and tupping in close companionship with his brothers, he'd only realized, a few years ago, that not all families were like his. Most weren't.
The brothers d'Anzeray might be scrappers who learned to fight as soon as they learned to walk, but they also protected and defended each other against the world that slandered them every chance it got. This loyalty meant trust of an extraordinary depth and the desire to share all good things between them. When together the seven were as one.
"I've never known men like you," she muttered finally, confirming his thoughts.
"And what do you think of us, Princesa?"
She tilted her head back and looked up at him. "I'm glad I met you."
Her eyes were bright green that evening. Again he was shocked, for the brown was gone. It was spring again and then summer in her gaze, with sun and birdsong and the fragrance of lavender. For a moment he was back to his merry youth in Normandy, when there were no troubles and life was simple. When he waded in the stream, trying to catch fish on his sharpened stick, showing off for the rosy-cheeked peasant girls on his father's land.
His opportunity looked at him as if he were her savior, and his heart quaked.
Eventually Princesa laid her head on his shoulder, yawned, and finally slept.
Listening to her gentle snores, he ran fingers lightly over her damp, gleaming hair and considered his future. And hers.
Chapter Eight
She woke as daylight crept in through gaps in the timber walls. Her first thought was that she was nude and why then did she feel no cold? It was winter and the fire in the hearth had died away to smoldering ash. Yet she was warm, comfortable as a babe in swaddling.
Lifting her head, she looked around and realized the pack had gathered around her to keep her sheltered and protected all night. Lost under a pile of heavy limbs, she might have felt trapped, if not for the memory of how each brother had tended to her.
Raul lay before her, an arm around her waist, his eyelashes twitching gently as he dreamed, his lips parted to exhale a steady sigh. Behind her was Dom, his hand splayed upon her hip, his wine-scented breath moving her hair with every snore. Laid with their arms around her legs there were Alonso and Sebastien. Salvador slept above her on the fur, the top of her head resting in the curve of his chest.
Yawning, she moved slightly to stretch and almost instantly felt the push of a hard dick at her back. Dominigo, it seemed, had woken too and suffered a stiff morning friend. His hand moved from her hip to her belly and tried inching her closer to him, but this motion woke Raul, who was apparently in no mood to loosen his grip on her waist. Reaching her arms around his neck Princesa wriggled upward and kissed her master, pressing her breasts against the hard planes of his chest at the same time and letting his dark hairs tickle her nipples.
"Good morning, Master."
Behind her, Dom nibbled her shoulder. "What about me?" he whispered thickly. "Do I get no greeting?"
She looked at Raul. Eyes still narrowed sleepily he nodded to her, so she turned her head and kissed his brother too. Immediately that stiff battering ram of a cock was forcing its way between her buttocks, seeking a way in again. Every part of her ached and was sore that morning, as she knew it would be, but when Raul moved his hand between her
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