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transemacabreAn Eaglets fic, starring John and Richard and a certain lady. Sexual situations.
Imagine
Imagine this.
Stars bursting before his eyes, his body shaking like a well-lathered horse. Her breath ragged and panting beneath him. The blankets tangled around them. Fire crackling in the grate, her fingers caressing his spine. *plaisir*
The shock of cold air on his back, rough hands grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. John whirls around into the laughing face of his brother. Richard's teeth shine in the flickering firelight. A predator, a beast, sauvage. "Ah, little brother, I didn't know you had it in you!"
John slaps his hand away, snarling. He is caught in the act, exposed. Bella scrambles backwards on the bed, pulling the blankets up to cover herself. She is fourteen to John's sixteen. Her eyes are wide, like those of a hunted rabbit. Richard laughs harder. "Why, you little ruffian," he says, and slaps his knee. "How dare you seduce our own cousin our father's bed, and not invite me. I'm hurt. You're lucky Father's across the Channel right now, or you'd be in a world of pain."
Desperation. Bella begins to weep. She is John's own first cousin, the daughter of his uncle Hamelin. If her father finds out about this, they'll both be in a world of pain. John leaps forward, grabs Richard by the shoulders. "Don't tell," he says, "Whatever you do, don't tell Father."
"I'll keep your secret." Richard keeps his promises only when it amuses him to do so. Bella buries her face in the blankets and weeps harder. John's grip tightens on Richard's shoulder.
"Promise."
"I promise. For as long as it will do you good, anyway. Mark my words, little brother, women have a habit of getting pregnant. If her belly starts swelling, no promise of mine will keep this secret." Richard's grin mocks him. But it's the best he can do. John slumps down in the blankets, glowering darkly at this intruder.
Damn him. Richard's right. Three months later, at Easter court, uncle Hamelin shows up hopping mad, dragging Isabella and her swollen belly. John's first child. He'll never forget the look of shock and disappointment on King Henry's face. He never tells his father that little Richard was conceived in the royal bed, and King Henry never knows.
Richard kept his promise.
Imagine that.
Imagine
Imagine this.
Stars bursting before his eyes, his body shaking like a well-lathered horse. Her breath ragged and panting beneath him. The blankets tangled around them. Fire crackling in the grate, her fingers caressing his spine. *plaisir*
The shock of cold air on his back, rough hands grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. John whirls around into the laughing face of his brother. Richard's teeth shine in the flickering firelight. A predator, a beast, sauvage. "Ah, little brother, I didn't know you had it in you!"
John slaps his hand away, snarling. He is caught in the act, exposed. Bella scrambles backwards on the bed, pulling the blankets up to cover herself. She is fourteen to John's sixteen. Her eyes are wide, like those of a hunted rabbit. Richard laughs harder. "Why, you little ruffian," he says, and slaps his knee. "How dare you seduce our own cousin our father's bed, and not invite me. I'm hurt. You're lucky Father's across the Channel right now, or you'd be in a world of pain."
Desperation. Bella begins to weep. She is John's own first cousin, the daughter of his uncle Hamelin. If her father finds out about this, they'll both be in a world of pain. John leaps forward, grabs Richard by the shoulders. "Don't tell," he says, "Whatever you do, don't tell Father."
"I'll keep your secret." Richard keeps his promises only when it amuses him to do so. Bella buries her face in the blankets and weeps harder. John's grip tightens on Richard's shoulder.
"Promise."
"I promise. For as long as it will do you good, anyway. Mark my words, little brother, women have a habit of getting pregnant. If her belly starts swelling, no promise of mine will keep this secret." Richard's grin mocks him. But it's the best he can do. John slumps down in the blankets, glowering darkly at this intruder.
Damn him. Richard's right. Three months later, at Easter court, uncle Hamelin shows up hopping mad, dragging Isabella and her swollen belly. John's first child. He'll never forget the look of shock and disappointment on King Henry's face. He never tells his father that little Richard was conceived in the royal bed, and King Henry never knows.
Richard kept his promise.
Imagine that.
