Malia Martin Read Online Free Page A

you would sleep through your own death!” Obviously he agreed, for he did not move. Aleene made a disgusted sound and stalked around the bed, crossing through the ever-shining moonbeam and climbing onto the bed next to her slumbering lord.
    “Perhaps this shall be better. I do not think you must be awake, anyway,” Aleene muttered as she knelt in front of Cynewulf and sat back on her heels. “I must only getyour member hard.” She grimaced.
    And then she must put it inside of her, which meant she must touch it. With a long-suffering sigh, Aleene closed her eyes and reached out. Her hand encountered the hard ridges of a well-muscled stomach. With a startled cry, she jerked her hand back and peeked between her lashes. The man had not moved. Well, she had prayed for God to make him docile.
    Squeezing her eyes shut again, Aleene reached out, this time a bit lower. Her hand encountered a wiry brush of hair. Her belly quivered strangely. Curling her outstretched fingers into a fist, she said another quick prayer for courage and slowly reached out. Again, the wiry hair tickled her fingertips. Aleene forced herself to bury her fingers deeper until she felt heated flesh. She let her hand rest there for a moment and opened her eyes. The dim light revealed a trail of hair that swirled from Cynewulf’s navel, beneath her fingers, and down. Her hand drifted and encountered hard silk. Aleene jumped, her eyes squinting in the darkness. And she saw it, huge and hard, laying stiff against his belly.
    With a shocked cry, she pulled her hand away and covered her mouth. It was damaged! Once she had peeked between her lashes as Tosig left her, and seen his shriveled member hanging between his thighs. It had not stuck up toward his nose.
    Aleene knit her brows in thought. Perhaps, though, it did when he had slept? She had no idea, but could only hope that this man she had taken to husband was not disfigured. He must give her an heir.
    Berthilde had said it would be hard. She hadn’t said which way it must point. Taking heart at this thought, Aleene dredged up her flagging courage and touched her husband’s manhood once more. It was hot against her fingers, hot and smooth. She curled her hand around it. And hard, yes, definitely, hard.
    In relief she relaxed her shoulders, realizing only then that she had hunched them around her ears. Leaning backward slightly, Aleene peered through the murky light at what she now held. It was overwhelmingly strange. So soft, like the underside of a baby’s bottom, yet so hard. She stroked it and it moved, lurching against her grasp.
    Cynewulf made a noise, a strangled sound. Aleene snatched her hand back, watching him steadily, waiting. Still, he didn’t move. Aleene watched his eyes closely, but they didn’t even flutter.
    Sitting back again, she crossed her arms over her breasts and felt her nipples, puckered and sensitive against the inside of her arms. Aleene shuddered. A dark, yawning hole seemed to open up low in her stomach. Her fingernails bit harshly into her arms. Closing her eyes, she thought she could feel the beat of her heart in the very core of her being. Her throat went dry, her skin wet, her breathing harsh in the quiet. Fear was only partly responsible for such peculiar symptoms, though. She knew, for she knew fear intimately. There was something else making her feel as if the air she took into her lungs was not enough to sustain her life. Aleene stared down at her husband.
    She must do it now. She had let him feel her breast. His member was hard. Now she must put it inside of her. Quickly, before she could think of what she did, Aleene pushed her husband onto his back. He flopped over, his arms spread wide.
    She would have to get atop him. With a deep breath Aleene swung her leg over his and straddled his hips. She felt the hair on his legs brush at the inside of her thighs. Her breath came more rapidly.
    Cynewulf’s eyes remained closed. At least they looked closed. Aleene strained