The Princess and the Huntsman by Patricia Green Page A

enjoy. “Is this better, love?”
    She gasped with each push inward. “Aye, oh, aye.”
    “Faster yet and you will find release, I think me.”
    Brandywyn could not answer between her moans of ecstasy. The sensation had built in her womb, her nipples were aching where they pressed against the lumpy bed. The shirt felt like it caressed her everywhere, even as Tom’s hands were doing. He reached up and took hold of her braid, pulling it back, gently at first, then with some force, until her back was arched and her bottom high in the air.
    He was breathing hard, and his strokes were forceful, though still slow enough for Brandywyn to appreciate each one. She was flying, like a hawk, floating on the currents, seeing the world from a lofty position where pleasure was so simple as a man and a woman coupling.
    An unwelcome thought intruded. When she’d seen Prince Gammon and the maid, the prince had taken his pleasure of her and given none in return. Could Tom do the same? Were these feelings of growing sweet beauty about to be left forlorn?
    Faster and faster they moved together. Brandywyn was desperate to steal her pleasure before Tom might find his, to make sure he could not leave her bereft. She focused all her attention on her nethers, feeling him inside her. Tom, breathing hard, snaked a hand under her and found her nub once again. That was all it took. She catapulted over the wall of her fears with a single leap. Stars peppered the vision behind her closed eyelids and she cried out, making a sound she never knew could come from her.
    “That is my good girl,” he murmured behind her. His pumping had not ceased and now the pace was nearly frantic, Brandywyn enjoyed every thrust, and nearly reached her peak again when Tom thrust once hard and finally paused. She could feel the power of his spurts inside her bottom and it was a wonder. He rippled within her. What would that feel like in her womb?
    Breathing heavily, they paused together to get their bearings. Eventually, he pulled free, gentle as could be. The soreness on her bottom cheeks had been forgotten, but was now brought back as he gave her a sharp spank on the rump and told her to wash at the basin. Unselfconscious, he walked out of the cottage, presumably to wash in the stream.
    Tom was not gone long, but long enough for Brandywyn to feel clean again. He took her in his arms and rocked with her where they stood. Little kisses landed on her forehead and the part in her hair. “You give me great pleasure,” he told her softly.
    “As you do for me, Tom.”
    “Let we stay on this course for a while. All will be well, do we try.”
    “I must go home sometime, Tom. I miss my home and my father.”
    He pulled back from her, his blue eyes, softened with some emotion Brandywyn could not name, gazing at her face. “I shall find your father for you. In the meantime, stay well with me. We will part when he comes for you, and that will be soon enough.”
    Brandywyn closed her eyes, a tear trickling down her cheek. She sorely missed her father, but court life was growing less and less appealing as the time passed with Tom. Although it was not easy learning to do homely chores, Brandywyn did take pride in each one she mastered. Tom’s praise made those moments honey-sweet.
    “Aye, Tom. I shall try to be patient.”
    “Good enou’,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled her in for more cuddles. “Good enou’.”
     
    * * *
     
    After a quiet evening and pre-dawn cuddles and fondlings, Tom left to see to the hunt, leaving Brandywyn to try to clean the cottage and wash their clothes on the rocks in the stream. The morning wore on, and although she had exchanged her borrowed shirt for another of Tom’s, she wore nothing else while she cleaned and washed the clothes.
    She rested in the afternoon warmth and wondered where Tom was, but she did not venture out to find him, remembering the spanking she received all too recently for her wayward behavior. There was a tiny