A Wanton's Thief Read online

  “No, ‘tisn’t a fable nor a lie. ‘Tis a practice that can double your pleasure, that I promise you.” And he sank one finger into her cunt. Her folds gripped tight and wet around his digit, and it made him yearn to taste her there, to show her more delights of the flesh.

  She threw her head back and clamped a hand around his wrist, stilling his movements. “Do not do this to me…please.”

  The look of conviction in her eyes, despite the rims of passion he saw there, made him rein in his sexual drive. He withdrew the finger and turned, urging Warrior into a gallop. Restraint seemed to choke him by the very throat. His moist finger along with its musky scent mocked him as he stroked the leather strap. How he’d love to throw her upon the snow-spattered ground, toss up her skirts and ram his hard cock into her damp hole. But it would just have to wait. With the incident with Sheldon Tremayne not even an hour behind them, they needed to move on toward camp. They must journey quicker than they’d been before that skirmish, or else face a much larger and better-equipped army. Not until they reached the spring near camp would he even think about stopping again.

  Yes, perhaps, he suddenly thought, they would put miles between themselves and Sheldon and have time for that little reprieve with John near the end of their journey…

  “There is nothing you can say, no tears you can cry, Lady Salena, that will make me believe you are not curious and do not desire two men at once.”

  “I do not want to talk about this anymore. Do you hear me, Montague? Do you hear me?”

  “Aye, dove, I hear you loud and clear, both verbally and within the lovely depths of your curious mind. For now, we will set the subject aside…until later.”

  So he silenced all those words he’d wished to convey to her. Instead, he allowed visions to fill his head. He imagined John sinking himself between her thighs and her subsequent cries of ecstasy. Falcon’s balls swelled at the thought of her taking his own cock between those plump peach lips as John pummeled her. He could almost feel the moistness of her mouth, the softness of her skin. And he could hear her moans, sense the rising tides of her release.

  Ah, all he could think of was doubling her pleasure, giving her a taste of the dark side well before she’d even dabbled in the straight stuff.

  Patience, Falcon. Despite her resistance, she’s all yours. And there’s plenty of time to show her all the wicked delights of the flesh.

  * * * * *

  They rode across the meadow for what seemed hours. It stretched endlessly, but now she could see the edge of a new forest up ahead. She focused on her surroundings, struggling to erase from her mind the images his words could so easily sketch there. And she tried helplessly to empty her mind so that he could not read her thoughts.

  But it was no use. Even now as they neared the thick foliage, pictures of Falcon making love to her flashed in her mind. Her heart raced, her pussy dampened as time after time, John too entered her thoughts, his large hands stroking her breasts as Falcon buried his rod within her. The mere thought of adding another man, doubling her pleasure, seemed to take her life force from her lungs. Her passage throbbed of its own accord while her nipples remained hard and tingly. Tantalizing flavors burst in her mouth…flavors she hadn’t yet tasted.

  “How much longer must I endure this forced journey?”

  “We’re but a quarter-hour’s ride away. Soon, you will meet my sevenscore yeomen whom history has dubbed my ‘Merry Men’.”

  “And why have you taken last eve to raid my manor alone? Why were those loyal ‘Merry Men’ of yours not with you, supporting you as they should?”

  He shrugged. “As a rule, we divide up into groups or even singles. It can be more…productive that way.”

  “I see,” she sneered. “Spread the thieving about the countryside for further profit. And fool the king’s authorities in the process by giving them one too many crimes at once to investigate.”

  “Your understanding of the regimentation of such a covert plan makes me wonder if I do not have a valuable recruit within my company.”

  She did not reply to his mockery but instead scanned the woods as they neared. Towering firs speared upward against the cloud-darkened sky. Elms, oaks and maples mixed with the spruce forming a conglomerated, beautiful, welcoming forest. But its beauty would become her prison. Knowing so, she made note of every path, every unusual tree marking, every babbling brook.

  Her thoughts turned to Sheldon’s servant from Wyngate Hall whom Falcon had ordered taken to their camp. Mayhap if she could find him among Falcon’s men, the two of them could devise an escape plan in secret? The idea brightened the despair in her heart. Hope grew from a mere seedling into a blooming flower. It gave her the fortitude to sharpen her intuition and listen to every word her captor said. So for now, she dashed the thoughts from her mind so he could not detect them.

  “You will also meet Lorcan at camp.” His tone rang boastful as he maneuvered his mount around a rather wide and deep gorge. Snow continued to fall, coming down in thicker, denser flakes. A good inch or so now covered the ground. Salena shivered from the cold…from the anticipation and dread of what awaited her at his camp.

  “He is my mentor. My assigned wizard throughout many centuries.”

  “Wizard?”

  He nodded. “If you think my powers are a bit unconventional, wait until you see Lorcan’s. He possesses so much more energy—” Falcon chuckled, “—he ofttimes knows not what to do with it.”

  Her interest was piqued to say the least. As she tightened her arms around his narrow waist, she caught the rugged scent of him. It stirred something deep within her core, but she forced it from her thoughts and concentrated on his words. This talk of another sorcerer within his camp might prove to be a challenge during her future escape.

  “Are all of your men immortals?”

  “Nay, of my party, only myself, John and Lorcan have been cursed with life everlasting.”

  “Cursed? I would think living forever should be viewed as a blessing.”

  “Nay. Definitely not. One must be immortal to know the curses of it. To live and yet watch those you’ve grown to care for die time after time…” He shook his head with vigor. “Nay.”

  Those he cares for? She wondered if this hardened criminal had the heart and capacity in that wide chest of his to love. Being such a ridiculous thought, she let it pass and asked, “So the mortals you recruit to support your causes all die off?”

  “Mm, as time passes, so do the lives of those mortals who walk with me. Therefore, we replenish our band of ‘outlaws’ as needed. You see, we must maintain our historic reputations.” She caught the manner of bitterness in his voice. Something about it hummed beneath the surface with sadness and tugged at her heartstrings. But again, she forced the unwanted emotions deep into the recesses of her mind and continued to pick the brain of her enemy as she hugged him close.

  “Why is it, Falcon Montague, that you tell me all your secrets?”

  Stillness echoed loud and clear around them. But for the crunch of the steed’s hooves upon snow, silence reigned. The smells of leather and man wafted up to entice her senses. Though the air could chill one to the bone, Salena reluctantly took in the warmth of his body, leaning closer to seek the potent energy of him. She pressed her torso to the wall of his back and turned her cheek, resting it upon his straight spine. Finally, he spoke, his voice low with an ominous ring.

  “I do not know.”

  She allowed him another moment of reflection before further unleashing her curiosity. “I wonder…are you, in a sense, their magical king, their strongest commander?”

  “According to Lorcan’s prophesies I have been ‘the chosen one’, the one to lead in many causes, the one to fight for those less fortunate. And nay. My powers do not match those of the old man Lorcan’s, for he is the almighty wizardmaster. But my talents slightly outweigh those of my brother.”

  “John…”

  “John.”

  “And what cause,” she asked as the
dense woods opened into a large clearing, “do you fight for now, this day?”

  “Hmm, well, to begin with, the king’s Pilgrimage of Grace rages on as we speak, my sheltered lady. The commoners have forged forth with an uprising that I wholly support.”

  “Ah, yes,” she agreed. “The grudge against the king for the negative influence his man, Thomas Cromwell, seems to be having upon him. As well as protests against the government’s eradication of papal supremacy and confiscation of certain properties. Pure rubbish.”

  “It seems you’re not as sheltered as I’d first thought,” he said in a cheery yet cryptic tone. “And rubbish, you say? You must realize that with the northern counties beginning to come under martial law, many people are being hanged on mere suspicion of hostility against their landlords and the king. My cause is for that lowly man, the man who fights against hardship, the tenants who are caught up in unrest and the threat of eviction by their landlords—who have the iron-fist backing of your king.”

  “You speak untruths.”

  “Nay, my pretty lady. I speak life as your serfs and servants’ kin know it. For selfish profit, the king is allowing expulsion of these hard-working tenants, either illegally or for the slightest default. He is turning a blind eye to the famine and death, the turmoil and sheer suffering put upon these people by their land masters. Why are they being put upon, you hopefully ask? So that their landlords may take over the land in order to enclose large areas for their own gain. To convert the land they once shared with these people into fenced sheep pastures for enormous profits.”

  “No…”

  “Yes. And there’s no need for you to deny it. I’m well aware your rich estate is one of the top producers for the king. And your brother is the epitome of the ruthless master I speak of.”

  No! I don’t believe a word of it. But I will humor him, try and see his twisted side of things for a bit of self-entertainment.

  Falcon grunted in derision, apparently in response to her direct thought.

  “So you tell yourself these torrid tales in order to justify your thieving and mayhem. Do I have that correct, at least?”

  He stiffened the slightest bit within her arms. “As the saying has gone for centuries, I steal from the rich and gift the poor. In this case, I’m giving back to the poor—in a roundabout way—what is already theirs and has been stolen from them without good cause.”

  She couldn’t help but let out a boisterous, tinkling laugh. “Oh, yes. How could I have forgotten? The self-righteous vigilante, the infamous Robin Hood.”

  He didn’t take time to rebut or agree. Instead, he guided the stallion through the first clearing and into another. Its splendor was such that it stunned her to speechlessness and dissipated all thoughts of uprisings and turmoil from her mind. An enormous rock nestled into a steep hillside. Thick foliage of spruce and undergrowth surrounded a small pool of water at its base. Her gaze fell to the surface of the water. Steam curled upward in plumes of inviting heat. She sighed, instantly aware of what it was that she spied.

  “A hot spring.”

  “Ah, yes, but ‘tis more thought of as heaven.”

  Salena swung her gaze to Falcon’s handsome face as he glanced over his shoulder and soaked her with a mysterious stare. It was all she needed to make an educated guess.

  “So this is the ‘secret locale’ you mentioned to John.”

  “Aye.”

  At his simple confirmation and the deep note to his voice, her heart leapt into a gallop. “He is not here.”

  “No, he takes care of business. But we are here and we will be taking full advantage of Mother Nature’s amenities before riding into camp.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning…we bathe.” And he dismounted, leading the horse to a flat boulder that jutted out over another making a roof of sorts. “Come.” And he raised his arms to her.

  “W-what do you mean, exactly?”

  He sighed and grasped her waist, dragging her down from the steed. Falcon looked down into her face, his eyes making her shiver more than the snow now falling in torrents of flakes. She could hear a faint bubbling of water in the pool below them. Steam looped up and over, enveloping her in a misty warmth. The palms of his hands branded her, even through the thickness of the cloak.

  His breath warmed her cheek as he spoke. “I mean just what I said. We bathe. Now. Together—you and I in this heavenly pool of water. You will love it. It is refreshing and cleansing all at once.”

  Her mouth fell open. “No…I refuse to bathe with you! And I do not wish to become overly chilled and risk illness.”

  He rolled his eyes upward toward the overhanging rock. “I vow to keep you safe from illness…and very warm. If I tell you it may be your last chance to cleanse that lovely body of yours, you will still refuse me?”

  “Last chance?”

  “Though I can read some people’s minds periodically and cast spells of things such as physical obedience, I cannot tell the future. That is Lorcan’s forte, at times. Therefore, I advise you to bathe while you can, pretty lady, else you be left with the possibility of ne’er another chance for a long time to come.”

  Periodically, he’d said. So, he could not always read her mind or that of others. Well, that was a small comfort within the fog of this nightmare.

  “Oh, yes, I’ve forgotten. The savage will no doubt be thrusting his primitive ways upon me during my captivity. Which, no doubt, will include not providing decent bathing facilities.”

  He grinned, and something about those gleaming white teeth made her heart twist and her hormones race. “Nay, milady. This is my decent bathing facility. Though it is a few minutes ride from camp, it is just uncertain how often we will be afforded a chance to return. Being the stealthy brigands that we are, at any moment, we may have to uproot and take flight.”

  She warred with the possibility of never being given a chance to bathe again for an indefinite time period. Though uncommon this day and age, daily cleansing was her normal ritual, and she loathed the prospect of being denied that usual luxury.

  “Put in such a way, I concede. But I will bathe alone.”

  He winked through the slits of the mask. “You will disrobe quickly. Quickly because, though your brother has long ago lost our trail, we still must be cautious. Once you disrobe, enter the pool. I will follow and we shall have a most enticing dip in the hot spring.”

  His words served to combust that spot between her thighs. She panted as she spoke. Though voluntary, her body moved into obedience mode, disrobing as ordered, beginning first with her cape, then the gown.

  “Please not…t-together. You cannot bathe with me…not n-naked and out in the open.” A sudden whoosh of cold air assaulted her skin. Her bare feet froze against the snow-covered rock and her nipples hardened to the brittleness of icicles. Behind her, she could feel the soothing heat from the pool upon her backside. The stark contrasts drew her irresistibly to seek comfort.

  “Isn’t naked the manner in which one usually bathes? But I’m no fool, love. I would warm my body and cleanse it, too, now that I’ve the opportunity. You know we’ve not the time to take turns at it, and besides, I will do what it takes to sample your delicious charms…”

  His words echoed in her head as she removed her nightrail. Biting cold air nipped at her flesh and she trembled, hugging her nakedness against his burning gaze and the chilly wind and snow. Her clitoris throbbed with a scorching heat, and she thought no spring water could be hotter than her own blood at this moment. This man…he seemed to be turning her to mush with or without his hocus-pocus.

  He took her clothing and placed the garments over Warrior’s back. Hastily, Falcon disrobed and stood before her, both of them nude and shivering in the cold and snow. Captivated by what she saw, her stare moved down over his body, over the wide shoulders and chest, the taut dark nipples, the rippled rib cage and flat abdomen. She licked her lips, suddenly longing to run her tongue from his now unsmiling mouth down to his navel. Salena’s ga
ze fell upon his manhood and her pulse leapt into a sprint. The magnificent tool jutted in half-hard arousal from a nest of dark blond curls. Below it, the swollen balls seemed to cradle its base. Powerful, corded legs were positioned apart, dappled by pale hair.

  She raked her fingernails over her thighs, longing to test the texture of every single hair on that brawny body of his. How she hungered to rip that mask from his face and run her fingers through the long, straight mane billowing out from beneath his feathered woodmen’s hat. She imagined she’d then run her nails down through the light smattering of hair across his chest. Next, she’d explore the softness of the light fur covering those strong legs. And lastly…she yearned to delve into that thick base of curls surrounding his cock, to grip that massive organ in her hand.

  The mere thought of his cock held captive in her palm made her sweat and start to go to him. But instead, the hot spring called to her, offering another tantalizing choice. Now fully undressed, she turned and set one foot onto a rocky step several inches below the water’s surface.

  “Ah!” She groaned when the heat enveloped her frozen foot. She could swear she heard a sizzle as she set her other foot onto the step. The pleasant sensation of thawing flesh drew her deeper into the waters. Steam plumed upward surrounding her calves. She took the underwater, rocky stairs one at time. The heat swallowed up her knees, then her thighs. Her nipples hardened to painful nubs. She could feel the throbbing in her pussy, and just as the heat rose over her labia, hot stickiness oozed from her pussy. Behind her, she heard the water slosh and Falcon’s sigh of ecstasy as he entered the pool. The thought of his naked body so close to hers sent a wicked shiver through her blood.

  She continued to walk deeper into the spring groaning out loud when the hot liquid embraced her chilled skin. The level had just reached her shoulders when she felt his arms go around her from behind. He dragged her back so that her buttocks pressed against his granite-hard shaft. Her pulse leapt in her throat. Almost simultaneously, his warm lips were there at her neck stilling the thump of that erratic pulse. Gooseflesh shimmered out over her shoulders, down her torso and legs, out over her arms and fingers.