To Catch a Thief Read online

  Caitlyn had never even considered the fact that the jailor might not be able to help her. She had to find Berne! He was almost a brother to her―the closest thing she had to family. Her eyes swam with tears at the thought she had caused him to be taken in the first place.

  Henry’s hand reached up to brush her cheek. “Do not cry, girl. Henry will help. If…only…”

  There was always a catch, Caitlyn thought wryly. Always an “if.”

  She sniffed, swiping at the tears on her cheeks. “If what, Henry?”

  “Could Henry…could Henry…kiss the girl…there?”

  Caitlyn felt her breath catch in her throat. This was not the time or place…but Henry’s face looked so hopeful that she gulped. “If you want to,” she murmured softly.

  She slid off the chair and moved over to the narrow cot. She owed Henry this much. The object of her mission―to rescue Berne―became secondary. Lying back on the hard mattress, she shucked off her leggings.

  “Do I please you, Henry?” she asked breathlessly, spreading her legs wider as she lay on the bed. Her nervous fingers wandered over her taut belly and across the tops of her thighs. She trembled, both from the chill of the dank stone room and the awkwardness of the situation. She accidentally brushed the edge of her slit, and a gasp of pleasure distracted her.

  Henry, his huge cock still semi-engorged, kneeled down beside the cot. A guileless smile creased his seamed face. “The girl pleases Henry very much,” he replied. He lifted his hand, reaching out as if to caress her, and then hesitated. “Can I touch it?” he whispered, his voice a mere breath of sound.

  She took his hand and drew it forward, placing it against the soft fur of her mound. “You may do anything you like, Henry,” she answered huskily. “Except fuck me. Do you understand why?”

  “Henry would hurt the girl. Henry would never do that.”

  “I know, Henry. That is why I say anything else. I trust you.” She swallowed hard, feeling her heart skittering wildly in her chest. Actually, she was excited by the thought of what he might come up with.

  She felt Henry’s massive finger―the size of some men’s cocks―slip into her heated cunt and rub tentatively at her clit.

  Caitlyn knew it was unusual for a girl of her age to still be a virgin, living the life she led. It was not as if she hadn’t fantasized about the day she would give herself to a man completely. She had always rather assumed it would be Berne, but he had never proposed it.

  In a way, it was to Berne that she was giving herself, because this man might hold both their freedoms in the palm of his hand…

  …though at the moment, it was the last thing she cared about Henry’s hand holding.

  She drew her breath in with a hiss. It felt so good.

  It wasn’t as if she had never pleasured herself. She was a healthy girl of nineteen. Most of her childhood playmates were mothers now, and she had listened to their whispered stories with wide eyes and rapt attention.

  But she had never gotten such pleasure from her own ministrations. She began arching against the finger, impaling herself on it.

  The big man climbed upon the bed between her spread knees, and she heard it groan. Henry’s drooping cock was still larger than most of those she had glimpsed fully erect in the course of her adventures. He spread her hot little slit wide with two fingers, and she bit her lip at the rush of sensation that surged through her.

  Henry bent his great head lower, until she could feel his warm breath stirring the fur upon her mound, and she gasped in anticipation. His free hand slid up her side to cup one breast, as if it were an apple in the palm of his hand, and he began to knead it gently. He placed a soft kiss on her straining cunt, and Caitlyn thought she would go insane.

  Then she felt a warm wetness teasing the lips of her slit, and realized that Henry was running his long tongue around the mouth of her thirsting cunt.

  “You could take me like that if you’d like, Henry,” she growled, her voice coarse with lust.

  His eyes peered up at her like two glowing embers over the rise of her mons, and then he withdrew his fingers, slowly running the tip of his tongue between her nether lips.

  She moaned. The sensation was indescribable.

  Sliding down on the cot to get a better angle, Henry pulled her legs onto his shoulders and pushed into her with his tongue. On a man his size, the organ was as large as another man’s finger, and again she felt herself beginning to arch against him.

  His tongue thrust in and out like a liquid piston, and she pushed against it, wanting more and more of it.

  “Deeper!” Caitlyn gasped, her fingers twisting into his hair.

  She felt the tip of a finger against her bunghole, and nodded her head, too caught up in the sensations to speak. Slowly, he pushed the digit into her ass, and she howled with mingled pleasure and pain.

  Instantly, it was withdrawn, and Henry cried anxiously, “Did I hurt the girl?”

  “No, no, Henry!” she gasped. “More! Please, more!”

  He replaced the finger, pushing upward on her cunt from beneath, thrusting his tongue to meet it.

  Caitlyn felt as if her mind would explode. All her reservations were burned away.

  “Take me, Henry!”

  “I can’t…” he protested. “The girl is too small. Henry is too big.”

  “I don’t care, Henry. Fuck me. Please!”

  Henry pulled her legs down from his shoulders, his finger still playing within her ass. “Is the girl sure?”

  “Oh, yes, Henry! The girl is very sure.”

  Caitlyn could see that his cock was stirring at the mere mention of such sport. It was nearly erect again, and as big around as Berne’s balled fist. The thought of it inside her, splitting her, excited her to the point of frenzy.

  “Here, Henry. Come here. Let me kiss it first.”

  Obediently, he brought his engorged member to her lips, and she ran it deep into her throat one more time, dampening its length.

  Pulling her head back, she groaned, “Now, Henry. Take me now.”

  He knelt on the edge of the bed and touched the tip of his cock to her slit. It felt like a live coal sitting there, hot and throbbing. She bucked forward.

  “Now. Please, now!”

  Biting his lip with obvious anxiety, Henry eased the edges of her slit apart with the fingers of one hand and renewed his invasion of her ass with the other. With tender care, he slid his cock forward, one maddening finger width at a time.

  Caitlyn felt as if she were being pulled apart by wild horses. The pain was devastating, yet exquisite. She thrust up to meet his assault, twisting and writhing to take him deeper inside her.

  Suddenly, he could go no further. She could feel him up against her barrier.

  She took a deep breath. “Pull back a little, Henry,” she gasped, “and then ram through it. Do it hard and fast. Rip it away.”

  Henry grunted. He was beginning to feel the pressure mounting himself. Her cunt was just as hot and tight as he had imagined. “I’ll hurt the girl,” he moaned desperately.

  “Only for a moment. It’s all right, Henry. I want you to,” she assured him. “Please!” She rocked against him, the elastic barrier caressing the tip of his straining cock.

  It was the last incentive he needed to fall over the edge. With a growl low in his throat, he inched back, and then thrust home. His huge cock ripped through her membrane, and she screamed with pain.

  Henry froze, tears starting to his eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt the girl!” he wailed.

  “Don’t stop!” she begged. “Finish it. It will help the pain.”

  He groaned, and Caitlyn pushed herself further onto his cock, grinding forward as it tore its way deeper. “Oh, yes, Henry!” she gasped. “Give me more.”

  He pulled back a fraction and then pushed forward past his original resting place.

  “Yes!” Caitlyn screamed, throwing her arms around his neck and dragging his face downward. She kissed him hard, thrusting her tongue between
his parted lips.

  He returned the kiss avidly.

  “Suck my tit,” she whispered in his ear, and he bent his head to take her nipple into his mouth.

  She pushed it into his face as his cock thrust within her, faster and faster now that their juices began to lubricate the untried passage. Her legs locked around his waist, and she felt the tip of his cock hit her very center. He was still not fully sheathed.

  “More,” she whimpered. “I want more!”

  Henry nipped her ear. “I’ll give the girl more,” he breathed.

  She felt a second finger maneuver into her ass, and then the teasing pressure upward against the friction of his cock. The sensation was maddening.

  Henry suckled her breast while his fingers played, and she moaned.

  The sound seemed to be the final straw. Henry nuzzled her neck, nipping and then sucking the soft skin. His thrusts within her were now hard and fast, and he no longer tried to be gentle.

  Caitlyn bit her lip against the pain until she tasted blood, but beneath the pain a pleasure began to rise, the likes of which she had never experienced. Her entire world seemed to explode as Henry impaled her on his fiery cock. And now she felt her nether lips grinding against his pubic bone, and the extra pressure was enough to send wave after wave of ecstasy crashing down upon her. She ground against him, shuddering with desire as his seed exploded into her willing cunt.

  She had never felt anything like this. Surely she was dying!

  Henry groaned, and collapsed beside her on the narrow cot. “I am sorry if I hurt the girl…”

  “Cait,” she replied, “my name is Cait.” Dimly she knew that she had just placed her life in Henry’s hands by giving him her name, but she felt compelled to do so.

  “Cait…” he whispered, making it sound like a prayer.

  “Henry, I must find my friend, Berne. The one I asked you about.”

  His face fell. Sadness washed over it, and he sighed. “Yes. Cait is looking for a boy. Cait has no need for Henry.”

  She felt her heart lurch. What was it about this gentle giant that affected her so?

  “That’s not true, Henry,” she answered quietly. “I think I have a lot of need for you. But I must help Berne. I owe him a great deal. He—he is like my brother, Henry. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. Henry had a brother once.”

  “Good. Then you know how important family can be. He’s all I’ve got. They brought him to the castle at the beginning of the sevenday.”

  “Is he a spit-boy, or footman?” asked Henry, obviously puzzled. “If so, he should be in the kitchen for dinner about now.”

  “N—no, Henry…” Caitlyn took a deep breath, and then released it with a shuddering sigh. “He’s a prisoner in the dungeon. He’s a thief, Henry. And so am I.”

  “A thief?”

  “Yes, Henry. A thief—a street rat. But not by choice,” she hastened to add. “I have no other way. I have no family except the other cast-offs. I am too old to be a serving-wench—they train for that from the time they toddle. I am too plain to be a barmaid. All I have are my wits and my agility.

  “But Berne was taken to save my neck, and I cannot let him rot in a cell, or worse, because of me. If you help me to rescue him, I will turn myself over to the king in his place.”

  “No…no, gir—Cait—that is a bad idea. The king hates thieves the most. He would do terrible things to Cait. No. Henry will not turn you over to the king.”

  “But I have to get Berne out of the dungeon, Henry—don’t you see?”

  “Aye,” replied Henry sadly. “I see. Berne must get out—but Cait can’t go in. I will bring Berne to Cait. Then she will go. Henry will never see her again.”

  “Sure, you will, Henry. We can meet in town. You get out of the castle sometimes, don’t you?”

  Henry shook his huge head. “No. Not if Henry helps a prisoner escape. Henry has the only key. He’ll be put in the dark instead. No way to hide that he helped.”

  Caitlyn’s heart skipped a beat. “They’d blame you?”

  “Yes.”

  Of course, they would. They’d have to blame someone. Henry would be a perfect scapegoat.

  “No…that won’t do. Never mind, Henry. You can’t help me.”

  “But Henry wants to help Cait.”

  “I can’t get you in trouble. It wouldn’t be right. You’ve been so kind to me.”

  “If Henry doesn’t help, how will Cait rescue the boy?”

  It was a good question. She had no idea how to find Berne, much less get him out of the cell.

  “Maybe you could give me the key and pretend that I stole it from you.”

  Henry chuckled. “You, steal key from Henry?” He pointed a finger at his slab-like chest.

  “I guess that is pretty hard to believe…even if you told them it was a man who stole it.”

  “I will do it for Cait. I do not care what happens to Henry.”

  “Cait cares, Henry.” She raised a hand to trace his cheek. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “Maybe…Henry could go with Cait and the boy. Far away from the castle. Henry can work. Take care of Cait.”

  It was a thought. Pickings had been slim of late, and the trinkets she had stolen from the King would give them a nest egg. The border was but hours away, and Berne not worth a manhunt. They could start over in the next country…be more than street thieves. Have a real home…

  “That would be lovely, Henry. Let’s find Berne, and we will all three go away.”

  Henry could not believe his luck. The girl—Cait—would take him away from this castle and the job that hurt his heart every time he had to lash a prisoner or lead them to the block. Had he truly found an escape from this jail he was confined in as surely as his charges?

  He thought he might know who the girl was looking for now. The thin blond boy with the broken skull. The boy was sick, but Henry could carry him away. There was no weight on him.

  “Henry thinks he knows the boy. Come. Henry will take Cait to the boy.”

  Awkwardly, he reached out and caressed Cait’s cheek. “Then we will go away?”

  She nodded against his hand. “Then we will go away.”

  Henry’s heart soared.

  Cait straightened her clothing hastily, and rose stiffly from the bed. Moving was painful at first, but she brushed aside the discomfort. They would get Berne and get out of here. Go someplace where they could start over. Maybe somewhere where they didn’t have to live on the street to survive. With Henry’s strength to protect them…

  “Let’s go.”

  She followed him with more confidence now, not minding the dark so much with Henry’s shadowy bulk before her. There was one bad moment when he suddenly thrust his arm back to block her and answered a hail from a passing guard, but the other never even saw her lurking behind her benefactor.

  After what seemed an eternity of wandering up and down corridors, Henry stopped before a heavy, ironbound door and took a key from his pouch.

  “The boy is in here,” he rumbled, in as close an approximation to a whisper as he could manage.

  She nodded. Eagerly she pushed forward. “Open the door, Henry. Hurry.”

  He turned the key in the well-oiled lock, and the door swung open.

  Cait flew across the threshold, to pull up short when she saw the dim form lying in the corner. There was no movement at the sound of their entry. Berne lay as if dead, a huddled heap of rag and bone on a thin layer of straw.

  “The boy is sick,” Henry said softly, his voice gentle.

  Cait tiptoed to Berne’s side, fearful of disturbing him. Her heart thudded hard in her chest when she saw the ragged cut on his forehead, and the bruises that darkened his pale skin.

  “Henry cleaned him up as best as knew how. Tried to feed him some broth, but he won’t eat any. The boy doesn’t look good.”

  Cait knelt beside Berne. “No, no, he doesn’t, Henry.” She felt the trickle of a hot tear on her cheek as she smoothed B
erne’s hair from his forehead. His face was flushed with fever. At the touch of her hand, he gave a little cry, and his eyes snapped open.

  Berne dragged himself backward, cringing against the wall. “No, don’t hurt me anymore!” He curled into a ball.

  “Berne, it’s me, Cait. I’ve come to take you out of here.”

  The boy frowned, trying to focus on her face. “Cait? Is that really you?”

  “Yes, Berne. I came to rescue you.”

  “Cait must come now. The guards will be back soon. Henry will take the boy.” Henry started forward.

  Berne cried out, raising a hand before his face.

  “It’s all right,” Cait soothed him, draping a comforting arm about his shoulders. “Henry is a friend.”

  “He’s one of them. One of the Guard!”

  “No, he’s not…well, yes he is, but he’s helping me to take you away from here.”

  Berne moaned low in his throat. “They hurt me.”

  Cait’s nose prickled, and tears welled in her eyes. “It’s all my fault. I never should have left you.”

  “It would have been worse…for a girl.”

  Henry put a hand on Cait’s shoulder. “They will be coming soon. We must leave now.”

  She nodded and stood. “Berne, you can trust Henry. He’s risking his life to help us.”

  Henry bent down and scooped Berne into his arms like he was lifting a bolt of cloth. “Henry knows a way out of the castle, but we must go quick.”

  He led them out of the cell and down a dank corridor with walls that felt damp beneath Cait’s fingers.

  “This hall goes under the moat. It comes up in a hill far away from the walls. It is well hidden. No one knows about it anymore. It is forgotten to all but Henry.”

  Berne’s breathing was labored in his chest, and rattled in his throat like her father’s had when he was dying of the Cold Sleep. Cait bit her lip. Would she lose him after all?

  They came at last to an arched wooden door with a heavy lock. “Cait must get the key from Henry’s pouch,” their rescuer instructed. “Henry can’t reach with the boy in his arms.”

  Cait reached into the belt pouch at Henry’s waist, fingers glancing against the bulge of his member. A little shiver went through her as she remembered their earlier coupling. It was a sensation she could definitely get used to….