“I expect I won’t, Jubil,” he replied raggedly.
One hand cupped his testicles reverently while the fingers of her other hand embedded themselves in the cleft between his buttocks. He grunted with fevered pleasure as her hot mouth closed over the crown of his manhood.
Toby was closer to dying from sheer ecstasy than he ever thought possible. Lust such as he had never known bolted though his big body with aching force, weakening him to the point of collapse.
“Christ!” he exclaimed in a harsh gasp, feeling himself peaking.
Her mouth still on his throbbing organ, Jubil smiled. “Nay, sweetheart, not Christ. You may call my Cybele.”
*
Paul had beenwaiting and waiting for Colin. He knew that Colin liked to take an afternoon ride, usually meeting one of the serving wenches in the stables beforehand. But today Colin was late and there was no wench waiting for him in the shadows of the livery. Paul stood by a huge pile of straw, waiting still.
Just when he thought he might have to seek Colin another time, a recognizable blond head caught his eye. Tall and muscular, Colin made his way toward the stable dressed in heavy leather garments. As he approached, Paul twitched nervously. He did not like the bad man.
Colin did not say a word to Paul, but passed him a curious glance as he headed for the stable. Paul, his palms sweating, dashed to intercept him.
“I would speak with you,” Paul said quietly.
Colin stopped impatiently. “Speak to me? About what? What could you possibly have to say to me, simpleton?”
Paul did not react to the insult; his diminished capacity afforded him little feeling in the area of humiliation. Instead, he fought hard for much-needed bravery. “I heard you telling Thia that you wanted to hurt Lady Peyton.”
Colin’s eyes widened immediately. “You….” quickly, he glanced about. Grasping Paul by the sleeve, he yanked him into the dim recesses of the stable.
Paul jerked himself free of the iron grasp, stumbling over a stool and struggling to regain his footing. “I heard you. If you hurt Lady Peyton, I shall tell my father.”
Colin’s reactive instinct was to strike the man senseless, but he uneasily refrained. It would not do to strike his future brother-in-law and, someday, his liege. Swallowing his shock, he struggled to remain calm.
“I am not going to hurt her,” he said evenly, moving toward the dense man. “I simply…. I want to surprise her, and I need Thia’s help.”
Paul shook his head hard, backing away. “That’s not what you said. I heard you tell my sister that you wished to exact revenge.”
Colin was advancing, slowly and steadily. “You misunderstood, Paul. I would not hurt your brother’s wife.”
Paul swallowed, back-stepping as the taller man stalked him. He knocked over a bucket, tripping over the handle and wildly kicking it away. He did not like the gleam in Colin’s eye. “You said you were going to kill her and I won’t let you. She is too lovely and…. and I like her. She is kind.”
“You won’t let me?” Colin raised his eyebrows. His footfalls were slow, deliberate. “And just how do you plan to stop me?”
Paul was unaware that he was backing himself into a dead end. Behind him, his father’s massive charger was tethered in his stall because the animal had a tendency to bite at everything that moved. A black hood covered the horse from his ears to his nose, purposely blinding him to the grooms who tended him.
“I told you,” he said in a thin voice, bumping into the wall of the stall as he continued to backtrack. “I am going to tell my father what you said.”
“Why haven’t you told him already?” Colin asked softly.
Paul swallowed hard; his terror was gaining a handle on his composure and he gasped when he nearly tripped over his own feet. Colin kept moving toward him and Paul was sure the man was going to strike him, or kick him, or worse. Beads of sweat began to form on his oily brow, realizing too late thatconfronting Colin Warrington with the information had not been a wise decision.
“Why?”
Paul’s eyes were wide at the repeated question. “Because…. I wanted to exact your promise that you would not harm her. I thought I could convince you to leave her alone.”
“You intended to blackmail me?” Colin cocked an eyebrow, a thin smile on his lips. “My, my, Paul. How grown-up of you to resort to blackmail.”
Paul knew vaguely what blackmail meant and realized that, indeed, that was what he had meant to do. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized there was a word for what he was trying to accomplish, and his bravery made a weak return.
“Then you had better promise that you will not harm Lady Peyton,” he said firmly. “’Else I shall tell my father, and he shall be angry with you.”
A few feet behind Paul, the warhorse began to quiver. Colin could see over Paul’s shoulder that the horse smelled the men approaching. Silk-smooth nostrils flared and slender ears piqued, listening. The closer Paul drew unknowingly, the more excited the horse became.
