Free Hellion (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards, 7) by Jayne Fresina Page B

cloak
of rough wool, she was anonymous.
    If her guard came around the corner
and saw her with two men she would be desperately ashamed. And
fearful of rumors reaching her new husband's ears the moment he
arrived.
    She had no choice but to play mute and
meek.
    His brother had backed her to the wall
and raised his hands to her hood, but Salvador distracted the man
by swiftly opening the front of her cloak instead, exposing her
body again to the light of the rush torch. Showing her off, it
seemed, for his brother's approval. "She's a pretty one, eh? Look
at these, Dom." Salvador cupped her right breast and offered it
casually to his brother, who quickly bent his head to take the
nipple in his mouth. Too shocked to speak, Helene merely stood
there, trying to breathe.
    She caught Salvador's gaze, gleaming
hotly in the moonlight and then he looked down, watching his
brother at her breast. The other man was sucking hard a moment,
until he stopped and said, "Is she nursing? I'm not getting any
milk."
    Sal laughed huskily. "I
said she's a milkmaid— that's her post , you fool. She milks cows and
goats. I don't milk her ."
    "Oh," his brother sounded
disappointed. He nodded toward her bare breasts. "They look nice
and full, so I thought—"
    "No, she's not nursing,"
Salvador replied his tone turning thoughtful, one fingertip
circling the puckered nipple that was wet from his brother's greedy
suction. "Yet." He leaned close and, nudging her hood aside
slightly with his lips, he whispered in her ear, his breath warm on
her cheek. "Mayhap I'll get you with child and then these titties
will have milk, eh? A beverage I can enjoy to my heart's content
when I have thirst for it. For more of your taste ."
    She felt her face heat up.
"No."
    "No? You dare say no to
me... milkmaid ?"
    Oh, so that was how he wanted to play
now, was it? He was getting vengeance for the slaps and insults
she'd given him, of course.
    "Answer me, milkmaid," he whispered
silkily
    "No, Sire." Helene snapped, knowing she
had to play along unless she wanted his brother to know who she
was. She couldn't risk it.
    "Once Dom here has ensured you can
take every inch of me, don't you want me to give you a child?" he
demanded, his voice low, his eyes wickedly amused.
    Meanwhile his brother had
resumed sucking her breast and now began to force his hand between
her thighs, clearly intent on seeing whether or not she was too small for
Salvador's cock. She tried hard to play the role of a servant,
keeping her voice soft and demure. "I cannot, sir. I'm unwed. I
cannot have a babe."
    Salvador laughed again, carelessly.
"Oh, yes you can. If I decide I want an entire litter out of you,
I'll breed you to my heart's content. As our father did to our
mother." When their eyes met again, hers furious, he added, "You're
just my servant chattel, Milkmaid. Remember?"
    While his brother was distracted, his
gaze fixed to what his hand did between her thighs, she glared
meaningfully at Salvador. "I do not want to bear a bastard." He had
better not even think of getting her pregnant.
    "There's naught amiss with a bastard."
He grinned. "I am one, after all."
    She pursed her lips, firing arrows
with her eyes, but a moment later she had to be demure and hide her
anger, because his brother was looking at her face again while he
played with her breasts and remarked upon how they would grow even
bigger when she was pregnant. "She's made for a babe," he said,
with a smile. "Lovely round hips and belly. Large nipples. Her body
is perfect for breeding. For bearing and suckling
babes."
    Helene was outraged at being discussed
like prize farmyard stock about to be bred.
    "And for conceiving them," Salvador
added, pinching her nipple gently, rolling it between his thumb and
forefinger. "But until I can get my cock in that tight silk purse
of hers, I can't spill my seed where it needs to go to breed her,
can I?"
    The two men moved a few steps away
from her to confer in whispers. Helene would have run away,