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He smiles and sucks my nipple into his mouth. I feel every draw of his lips between my legs. How does he know how to touch me this way? His tongue wraps around the dark peak before he catches it between his teeth.
“Christian.”
I hiss in pain. Or is it pain? Is pain supposed to feel this good?
“See, that was not hard, was it?” The Prince murmurs. “If you have a hard time calling me by my name, you can always call me Highness or Milord in bed.”
“I would not hold my breath waiting for that, Beaumont.” I laugh.
“Can we go back to my chamber?” He complains. “My bed is bigger. We will end up on the floor if we roll over twice.”
“Your aunt forbade us from sharing a bed when visitors are about. This one is fine for what we want to do.” I pull him down on top of me. “Anywhere is fine with me.”
“My aunt oversteps herself.” He says bitterly. “The bitch has no say over me.”
The soft knock on the door makes me wary. Who would be knocking on my door this late?
“I swear, if it is a fucking man...” He picks up his sword before he answers it.
“Put down the sword, Butcher.” I tell him. “Do not kill anyone this night.”
The Christian cracks the door. “What is it, Elijah?”
“The fellows sent me in search of you, so of course I came here first.” I can hear the brother grinning. “Are you in for the night then?”
“Yes, I am in the for the night.”
“It is still early. The late supper has yet to be served...”
His words are cut off when the door closes in his face and the latch dropped in place.
“Where was I?” He asks.
I lift my dress off over my head.
Living in the castle with him, I learn how important it is to be a Princeling. He leaves before dawn for mass and then he is off to train with the men. Sometimes he trains all day. Somedays he leaves early to settle disputes among the villagers. I follow him and watch him from a distance. On Sundays, the family dresses up in their finery and attends service together. I walk around or sit in my room and read. I mostly watch for his return.
One day, while wandering through Christian’s wing of the palace I hear a couple whispering and laughing secretively. I would have passed by them if the man’s hair was not so familiar. The woman’s fingers are toying with it the same way I do when he is fucking me against the wall similar to the way he is fucking her. His pale ass is working between her thick thighs to take them both to a place that I thought was ours alone. He is fucking her so hard that my loins tighten, and I am wet between my legs. I would stay and stare if my heart was not hurting so badly. I do not ask why he would do this because it is his right. I do not ask how he can do this to me because, well, who am I? I am but another place to stick his cock. Even so, I feel betrayed by a man that is not mine. I hurry away with my eyes burning. I do not care if I never see another Beaumont again. It is rare for me to cry this hard. My nose is running, and I am blinded by my tears. I slam into someone coming around the corner.
“Maeve?” Hands hold my arms. “What is it? What happened, Princess?”
“Christian?” I sob in confusion.
“Have I changed so much from this morning when I left you?” His eyebrows knit together with concern. “Did someone hurt you?”
I laugh and cry at once. It was not him who I saw with that woman. He is here with me.
“I thought I saw you.” I explain wiping my weepy eyes. “I was wrong.”
“Saw me where, my crazy love?” He asks hugging me.
“With a woman.” I feel silly for admitting it. “Making love to her.”
“You were mistaken. I was on my way to make love, but not to another woman. I was coming to find you, my sweet.”
Christian tilts my head back and his lips come down on mine. I wrap my arms around his slim waist and hold him tightly. A moan escapes me when his tongue tangles with mine. His hand locks in my hair when he kisses me harder.
“Why would I want another woman when I have a Princess?”
He kisses my exposed throat and licks the inside of my ear. I am wet with need.
“What can another woman give me that you cannot?”
“I apologize for doubting you.” I whisper sadly. “I am so old, and the women here are so young and beautiful.”
“I only love one, and she is the most beautiful of them all. The woman who carries my child in her womb and my heart in her hands.”
“Oh, Christian.” I clutch the back of his vest in my hands. “Now that I have met you, I am not sure if I can live without you.”
He lifts me up into his arms and carries me to his bedchamber. We pass the couple tupping against the wall. The man does not look like Christian so much when they are side-by-side. They jump apart when he clears his throat. Both are embarrassed as they frantically straighten their clothing.
“Highness!” The young man is little more than a boy. “Forgive me, Milord.”
“Is this what you saw?”
I nod my head yes, embarrassed again to have made such a foolish mistake.
“Dixon is one of my father’s bastards.” He explains. “And he should not be tumbling the maids in the open where my jealous woman could come upon him and mistake him for me.”
“I meant no harm, Mistress.” Dixon bows his yellow head. “My apologies.”
I stiffen at the title of mistress. It is embarrassing and degrading even if I am the Beaumont’s mistress. I did not feel like a mistress until now. Mistress is the fancy name given to a man’s whore. Even if I am a whore to a Prince, I am still a whore.
“Maeve.” He warns me. “Stop it.”
I know what he will say when we are alone. Christian will tell me that he loves me. He will tell me that I am not a whore right before he takes me to his bed unwed. What is done is done. Christian Princes do not marry peasant witches. He takes my hand in his and we walk away from his half-brother. He will never marry me, and I cannot expect him to.
A month passes before I realize I no longer ask him about his father or when he is taking me home. I mostly ask when I am going to see him again because he is always training with his army. Every and all day, he sharpens his murdering skills and practices on his men. I only see him when he comes to my bed at night. Some nights he wants to talk, and I listen to him curse and rant about his day. Other nights he comes in, takes off my night dress and does not speak until morning. I enjoy those nights most of all. In my body, he celebrates what joy the day has brought him. In my body, he finds solace from the nasties that weigh heavily upon him. The troubled Prince finds his peace in me. I am here for him to be the ear that he wants and the arms that he needs to hold him. I imagine men need to be held too.
His brothers mostly ignore me. The one before the Christian, Elijah, follows me around asking me questions. He wants to know why I wear a sword and why I never drink with them. Who taught me to read? Why am I so quiet? Why am I so stingy with my body?
“I have no interest in laying with you, or any of your brothers. I never will. It does not matter what you say to me or offer me. I am not for sale.”
“And Christian?”
“You should ask Christian about Christian.” I suggest. “Now, if you do not have a respectable question, or pressing business, I should like to be excused from your presence.”
“Excuse me?” He looks confused.
“Good day, Highness.”
I walk away from him. The spoiled Beaumonts believe they are welcome to whatever they want. That includes me. It is mostly because the women encourage them. The servants want to fuck them, and the fine ladies want to marry them.
The second brother is Ezra. He is quiet, and I feel as if he knows more than people assume. The Christian told me that he is a genius of sorts. He reads and speaks as many as ten languages. He is a spy in the Christian army. That, they did not tell me. I learned it by dropping eaves near them while they were drinking. Ezra Beaumont makes me most curious. A spy that moves among his enemies as one of them. How very exciting his life must be. He does not make me feel welcome, but he does not make me feel unwelcome either.
The oldest brother, Jeremiah is as cold and Christian as they come. I am not allowed in the same room with him since I am his brother’s whore and because my skin is brown. I represent the very people that the Christians are slaughtering in the name of God. A barbarian or Rebel is anyone who is not a Christian. To them we are animals. Pagans. Infidels. Yet, they are decimating entire tribes of people and raping their women so that they will give birth to Christian babies. Raping not only the people, but the land as well. They are burning, hacking, and raping their way to their glory. Those who they do not kill end up slaves. These people truly believe what they are doing is Godly. It scares me. How can one see right in what they do? Their ways make me ill. I am the poor soul who is living among animals
“Mae.”
It is the retched cousin again. I quicken my steps. Women do not run here, and I want to keep up appearances. My safety depends on them believing that I am one of them. I attend mass in the mornings and sit in the church on Sunday. I am battered with guilt every time. They killed my family and I sit in their church, so they will not think me an outsider.
“Mae, why do run from me? Am I so terrible?”
“Yes.” I nod my head. “I find your company unpleasant. I dread crossing paths with you.”
He looks at me like I have gone insane. I am confused as to why. These Christians are strange people. They ask you a question only to act this way when you answer it honestly.
“Good day, Highness.”
I walk away from him and put a good distance between us. His laughter is loud and startles me. I look back over my shoulder to be sure he is not following me. He is still laughing, but he has not moved. What is so funny? These heathens are daft. I shake my head in sympathy. This place is full of smelly Christians, like him, but I find that I enjoy being among other people. I never speak to most of them, but it is comforting, nevertheless.
“I can have you flogged for insulting me.”
“Insulting you?” I am confused again. “How did I insult you?”
He is following me, and it makes me touch my knife.
“A peasant called me unpleasant.”
“You are unpleasant.” The stupid man. “How is that an insult? I am sure everyone knows it. They have known you far longer than I.”
“I see the way you look at me and tempt me with your flirting.”
“Flirting?” I scoff. Devon has gone mad. “I avoid you at all costs, yet you bother me at every turn. Stay away from me, Devon Beaumont. I do not want to hang for killing you.”
My head swims when he slaps me. The point of my blade is biting into his neck before he can lower his hand. I always go for the throat. I always go for the kill. Never give the enemy a chance to kill you first. His blood drips onto my wrist where crimson drops stain my white cuff.
“Is this what you want?” I ask him, grabbing his hard cock and pushing my dagger deeper. “How disappointing, Devon.” I suck my teeth and tisk. “You are inferior to Christian in every way.” My taunting hurts him more than my blade. “You behave yourself, or I will tell your cousin that your cock gets hard when you speak to me. I will tell him that you hit me for refusing your advances.” My smile is cold and cruel. “Who knows what colorful way he will come up with to end your puny life?” I shove him away with my foot. “You, disgusting swine.”
I sheath my blade and leave him to see to his cut. I hurry away shaken and regretting my decision to let him live. What if the church finds out I cut a noble? I will be hanged! I must watch my back. Devon is untrustworthy and a coward. His mother made him crazed and jealous. That is his problem, not mine. I almost miss the couple coming towards me.
“My apologies.” I stammer nervously and hurry around them in my haste to escape.
“What happened?”
The man stops in front of me. I prepare to tell Ezra Beaumont that I am perfectly fine, but I tell a different lie instead.
“I fear that I have taken ill, Highness.”
“You are shaking.”
“It could be a chill, I was on my way to lie down.”
I lie to save Devon’s life in hopes of him not turning me in to the guard. Ezra with his sharp blue eyes and knowing mind does not believe me. He is too cunning to let anything get past him.
“How strange? You seemed fine when I saw you speaking with Elijah.” This Beaumont sees through my petty lies. “Did my brother harm you?”
“He would never.” I say defensively. “Elijah Beaumont, though bothersome, is a good boy.”
Ezra’s smile is lopsided. “On that we can agree, Miss Mae.” He chuckles. “If there is nothing that I can assist you with, then I bid you a good day.”
Ezra bows formally. I curtsy deep.
“Highness.” I murmur.
My mother taught me manners for a reason. He nods his dark head. I go on my way. I feel his intelligent eyes on my back until I leave his sight. It makes me nervous. They all watch me walk away. Except the cold one who looks old.
“Miss Mae, you will dine with the family tonight.” Ezra calls out to me.
“I am banned from your family’s dining room.”
“Nonsense.” He says. “I insist. You are a guest. I shall fetch you within the hour.”
“Yes, Highness.” I curtsy again.
Is he sending me into the lions’ den to watch me be eaten alive? I do not dine with the family. Only the father’s mistresses hold such an honor. It seems I have joined their ranks.
I am a bundle of nerves when he knocks on my door. I step outside and pull the door closed behind me. I am wearing one of the fancy dresses that the Christian gave to me. It is gold with a blue sash that makes me appear shapely when I am not. I kohl my eyes and powder my braided crown and face with pearl dust. I did not mean to use so much.
I look like some mythical creature underneath my veil.
“You look lovely.” Ezra takes my hand. “Christian will be pleased.”
“Is he returning tonight?”
My heart beats wildly. He has been away for three days. I am love sick from missing him.
“He rode through the gates not an hour ago.”
I take Ezra’s arm and we walk to the family’s private dining hall. It is smaller, and more intimate but no less grand than everything else that I have seen. I am seated near the end of the table. The chair reserved for the lowest man. Ezra Beaumont sits to my left and to my right is the empty chair reserved for the Queen. If she was present, I would be seated in the middle away from both ends. I am uncomfortable and too nervous to eat a thing. I feel a peace come over me when Christian sits in what was his mothers’ seat. I want to throw myself at him and kiss his lips until I get my fill of him. Our eyes lock together over the opulence of their dinner service. Our hands lock together under the table. He squeezes. I squeeze back. My Prince is tired, but content to be back home with me. His eyes devour me hungrily. He wants me. I get a catch between my legs. I want him too. I want him now.
“How are you?”
His eyes reflect the candlelight like the emeralds in the golden hilt of the decorative dagger at his hip.
“I am well.” I say shyly. I missed you. His smile tells me that he already knows. “How was your visit with the Cardinal?”
“It did not go as well as I had hoped. There is unrest in the north and I am being sent to put down a rebellion. I could be gone for months, maybe years.”
“But your father...”
“There is nothing that I can do to help him while he is bedridden. The Cardinal feels this matter is more pressing.”
“I have orders to assist you. We leave in a week.” Ezra says in a low voice. “There is word that a handful of druids escaped during the last raid. They are aiding the infidels.”
“The druids are no more.” The Christian says over his wine. “The church cleansed the earth of their black magic when they hunted the last dragon. None survived.”
“So, we thought, brother.” Ezra tears a piece of fresh bread, dipping it into the pool of meat gravy on his place. “They live, and they are mating with mongrels.”
“A druid nearly killed you, Ezra. Are you sure you are ready to fight them again?”
Christian Beaumont speaks to his brother, but he watches me.
“I well remember it, brother.” He says dryly. “I will not rest easily until they are all dead.”
“Months?” I swallow hard. “Years?”
“Yes, but you are welcome to stay here. I am hoping that you will choose to do so.”
“Christian.” I do not bother with formalities. “I cannot stay here without you. I shall return to my home where I will be safe. You can come for me when you are free.”
I will be alone again when he is gone. The Beaumont is of an age when men die in battle. I doubt if he returns home or to me. My throat tightens.
“You can come with me.” He offers. “Until it nears the time for our child to be born.”
“Go with you?” I am shocked. “I cannot go to war with you.” I stand up before the servant can pull out my chair. “How dare you ask it of me?” I whisper angrily before I turn and leave the table in a fit of angry tears.
“I see that her manners have not improved while I was away.” I hear him say as he leaves his chair to follow me. He catches me as I start up the stairs. “Maeve.” His arms come around me, pinning mine to my side. “Please wait.”
“You want me to come with you and sit by while you butcher druids and children.”
“That is untrue. You do not have to kill anyone.” He guides me to a quiet corner for privacy. “I am not certain if I can go months or years without seeing you. These three days were hell without you nagging me. That is why I asked you to come with me.”
I shake my head. “What we are doing is bad enough.”
“What are we doing, Princess?”
He kisses me. I cannot yell at him when he is kissing me.
“I do not know.” I close my eyes. “What are we doing, Beaumont?”
“I have fallen in love with you, Maeve.” His hold tightens. “That is what I am doing.”
“Oh, Christian...” I sob against his lips. “And I have fallen in love with you.”
I love you, Christian. It is not spoken as a slur. I do not cast it as a curse. His name drips from my lips like war honey and passion. It is the promise of forever. He kisses me feverishly as he holds me against the wall. We are both breathing hard when he breaks the kiss. The Prince takes my hand and we run off to his chamber where he locks us inside. We slam together painfully, tugging and tearing at our clothing as we make our way to the bed. He is inside me before my back hits the coverlet. I wrap my legs around him and cry his name with every thrust. Christian.
In the end, I agree to go north with him until spring. It is slow traveling with scores of men and wagons. I thought it would be like the last time we travelled. I rode with him and we slept together. On this trip, I am stuck in the food cart beside the driver who drinks to excess and belts out bawdy ballads. The worst part is that I sleep alone. The Beaumont Prince spends his days leading his men and preparing for the battle awaiting them by night. The other women are camp whores and he forbade them from speaking to me. He forbade anyone from speaking to me, so I mostly read and eat cake. I am sitting beside my small fire when he joins me that eve. He is still in full mail with his helmet tucked under his arm. It drops to the ground, landing beside me with a solid thunk, before he lowers the rest of him to the grass.
“Hello, Princess.”
“Hello, Christian.” I smile shyly. I have missed him dearly. “How have you been?” I ask politely.
He wraps his arms around me, holds me hard, and kisses me. My Prince kisses me until I am warm inside and holding onto his hair so that I do not slip down onto my back, begging him to make love to me. I do not mind the hard mail. It is a small price to hold the equally hard body underneath it.
“That is how I have been, Maeve.” Christian holds me close. We are nearing the abbey and should arrive later today. It is where we make camp when fight in the north. I camp in the field with my men, and we will share my tent. Ladies normally stay with the sisters, but I am keeping you in the field with me. Inside, you will eat sparsely and work like a slave beside the sisters. A priest will take you to his bed which is his right, but something I would rather avoid.”
“You would never let that happen.”
“I have no say in what the clergy does with the women, Maeve.” He speaks in a low voice. “Never wander away from camp and try to stay out of sight.”
My pearl dust is still rubbing off on him a week later, even after I washed my hair twice.
“I refuse to share you with anyone, even a horny priest.”
“Whatever you think is best.” I whisper the way he is. “I am good so far.”
“You ride with the food because it has the most guards.” He smiles. “Is cook treating you well?”
“He talks about his homeland a lot. I told him if it is on his mind so heavily, maybe he should visit once more before he passes.”
I wipe a smudge of dirt from the tip of his handsome nose.
“That is sensible advice, my love.”
“Your love? Am I your love, Christian?”
I know the answer, but I want to hear him speak the words again.
“You are surely and most truly my only love, Maeve.” His hand starts at my throat and moves down my chest and over my breast to rest on the place where his child grows.
“How do I make you feel, Beaumont?”
“I smile inside when I see you.” He begins. “My heart feels as if it is running away from me and right to you. hurts and I taste blood when I think about anyone doing you harm. I miss you when I am away from you.” He pours his black heart out to me. “You make me want to strangle you and pull out my hair.” He admits. “And fuck you right after.” His hand cups the mound between my thighs. “You make me feel like someone different.”
“I love you.” I whisper back. “I am not supposed to, but I do.”
“Who else are you supposed to love if not me, Princess?” He asks possessively. “I am yours and you are mine.”
“For how long?” I ask him. “How long can it last with so much against us?”
“Forever, Maeve.” Christian promises. “Because that is how long I will love you.”
He withdraws his hand from my thigh when footsteps approach.
“Highness, the scouting party has returned. They come with news.”
“I need to speak with them.” He says apologetically. “I will return later.”
The Prince disappears between the wagons and men. He is taller than the men around him and far handsomer. I chew on a sweet roll. I will be in his arms again.
It is after midnight when we see the lights from the abbey. I am tired of traveling so slowly, and I miss sleeping with my man. The food cart keeps rolling when the men stop to set up camp. I jump down from my seat to make my own way. Where is Christian? I search the crowd for him. I do not know any of these rough-looking men watching me. I have my hood pulled up, but I am still afraid. He warned me that camp life is not fit for women and I quickly find out why, when I pass a man stripped naked, hanging from a tree by his feet while a soldier whips his back bloody as he screams for mercy. My feet sink into horse dung every other step and several times I am forced to jump away from snapping dogs. I should have stayed with the cart.
When I think I have seen the worst of camp life, I come upon a woman laying on the ground with her bosoms hanging out of her bodice and her skirt up around her hips. A man is sitting on her head while she sucks his cock, and another is bucking between her thighs. He stiffens with a groan, falling on top of her. Another man lifts him off and tosses him aside before taking his place. I watch as this is repeated eight times with eight different men before I turn away. There were more men waiting for a tumble. The woman does not scream or fight. She holds out her arms to each one and wraps her legs around them as they have their way with her. It is shockingly vulgar and makes me sweat. I am aroused. I want my man between my legs.
I consider calling Christian’s name, but I think better of it. I do not want to end up under his men. I walk in circles until I am dizzy because it all looks the same. A raindrop hits my hand. The drop is suddenly a downpour and I have no shelter or fire. I find a spot under a tree and roll up in my cloak. It will do until morning.
“Highness!” A voice calls excitedly. “I found her! She is here.”
I am soaked through and shivering when Christian lifts me into his arms and carries me away. He ducks into a spacious tent minutes later and deposits me on a bed. I am stripped naked by candlelight and rubbed dry with a warm blanket. His face is unreadable in the low-light.
“I told you to stay with the cart.” When he finally speaks, I understand why he was quiet. “I have been searching for hours. I sent out scouts west in case you ran away.” His anger is unsettling. “I am beginning to think that you want to drive me insane, woman. Get into bed.”
Christian holds back the coverlet for me and I climb in quickly. He throws an extra blanket on me, blows out the candle, and leaves again. I scared him. His fear was bright and wild in his eyes when he checked me over for injury. Knowing that I am in his bed makes me feel safe. I am surrounded by his things and his smell. I fall asleep to the sound of rain hitting the oil cloth.
“Maeve.” He is naked and already on top of me. “I need you.”
The desperation in his voice touches me. It makes me want to give him whatever he needs. I part my knees and take his face in my hands when I kiss him. I cannot see him in the dark, but I need not see him with my eyes. My body knows his as if it was a part of me. My heart sees his heart. My love feels his love.
“You have me.”
I have given myself to him and he in return has given himself to me. My Beaumont Prince curses when I reach between his hard thighs, wrap my hands around his cock and help it in.
“Take me, Christian.” I move my hips in a circle. “Make love to me.”
It has been too long, and I need him as much as he needs me. “My precious Maeve.” His whisper makes me feel precious. “My darling Princess.”
I am passionately in love with my enemy. I know that he loves me the same way and it is beautiful. What we are doing is beautiful. Our forbidden love is beautiful. We are beautiful together as a woman and a man. I run my hands over his flexing back and hard ass as he fucks me. He has a body like the Spartans of old, this pampered Beaumont heir. There is nothing soft or weak about him. He is so strong that he can wear chainmail and swing a sword all day and make love to me all night. He is so virile that he can take me over-and-over, spilling his seed again and again. My Prince has just enough heart to be a husband and father. He lacks enough to be merciful to his enemies which makes him a good protector. My stretches help, but they in no way prepare me for this man. Christian rolls me over onto my stomach and takes me from behind with my hair in his fist. He takes me from the side, he takes my mouth, he puts me through the paces. We pass out back-to-back because we are too lazy to hug. I am smiling on my side. He is smiling on his.
