by Delia Castel
“Good night, little brother.” Polaris lifted one side of his mouth into a smile, turned, and headed towards his bedroom.
It took Berrin a few moments for his brother’s words to sink in, and his eyes widened. Polaris had been suggesting that his interest in Marigold might be reciprocated! He turned towards the bathroom door, his heart pounding anew. His member filled and pulsed, straining painfully against his breeches. Might she really be enamored of him, too? The water stopped running, and the sounds of splashing echoed in the room, accompanied by soft moans.
“I mustn’t.” He leaned his head against the wood of the door, breathing hard. She would be naked. Floating on her back, neck-high in the water. Just like the colored illustration of a mermaid that had been passed around the Academy. The creature’s long, seaweed-green hair flowed over her shoulders, revealing tantalizing glimpses of round breasts, tipped with prominent, coral-colored nipples. He had spent many private moments imagining himself in the water with the beautiful mermaid, but that had been a fantasy.
From beyond the closed door, a soft, breathy sigh reached his ears. It surged down his length and tightened his testicles. One of the boys at the Academy had stolen his father’s erotic scroll. It had depicted an encounter between a gentleman and his courtesan. Although the wording had been flowery and imprecise, he had devoured the literature, not considering that he would ever have the opportunity to perform such acts in real life. He had been destined to join the King’s Regiment, an organization renowned for rewarding those who committed their lives wholly to the protection of His Majesty.
Berrin did not think it possible, but at Marigold’s pleasured moan, even more blood surged south, filling him to the point of agony. His head spun. He was so aroused, he could barely function. And he had to give Marigold the fresh clothes!
He coughed, focusing on thoughts of propriety until the ache in his member abated. When all licentious thoughts cleared from his mind, he raised his fist and knocked on the door.
“H-h-hello?” she asked.
The fear in Marigold’s voice extinguished his ardor, and his face dropped. He clutched the pile of clothes to his chest. What was wrong with him? Mother and Father had been brutally slain downstairs, a terrified young lady was cowering in a bath, washing their blood off her body, and he was thinking about tantalizing mermaids and lovemaking? His flush of arousal turned into a tingling of shame. Perhaps there had been a grain of truth in Matheson’s awful rant.
After clearing his throat, he said, “It’s Berrin. I have fresh clothing.”
“Come in.”
His eyes widened, and the saliva in his mouth evaporated. “A-are you sure?”
“Come in.”
His heart pounded, and he gritted his teeth against the new surge of sensation enveloping his rapidly lengthening member. A whimper escaped his throat. “A-all right.” He pushed the door open. A cloud of warm, sulfur-scented vapor engulfed him. Steam filled the air, but through the haze, he discerned Marigold’s blonde head bobbing up and down in the pool. He lowered his head, not wanting to intrude. “I will leave the clothing on the dressing table.”
He walked towards the teak bench and matching table in the ventilated, right-hand corner of the room, trying not to react to the sounds of splashing behind him. Blood rushed through his ears, filling his thoughts with images of a mermaid version of Marigold beckoning him into the water. Each step made his length strain harder against his tight breeches.
At last, he reached the wooden table and bench. A carved, teak-framed, cheval mirror stood to the side, and Berrin stole a glance at its reflection. Unfortunately, it did not point in the angle of the pool, so he only caught sight of the flames of hunger in his own eyes. Snatching his gaze away, he turned towards the table.
“Berrin.”
He spun.
She stood before him, naked. Berrin stopped breathing, taking in what could only be a hallucination brought on by his own fevered desires. Marigold’s wet hair fell down to her shoulders in a cascade of amber curls. Water dripped down her body, running in rivulets over full, round breasts tipped with rosy nipples. His heart stuttered. They were more delectable than anything he had ever seen in his eighteen years.
His gaze traveled down past her tight waist to the swell of her belly, settling on the thatch of blonde curls covering the juncture of her thighs. Berrin’s eyes bulged. His jaw fell, followed closely by his slackening arms. The clothes dropped to the marble tiles.
She might have spoken, but the drumbeat of his throbbing pulse was all-deafening. Berrin would have asked what she was doing, but all the air had vanished from his lungs. A tiny voice in the back of his head screamed through his paralyzed stupor. Now was the time to do something romantic, like gather her in his arms, kiss her with the passion of a thousand suns, or fall to his knees and express his eternal devotion. He tried to move, but all the blood had left his legs, and desire rooted his feet to the marble. His insides writhed with self-disgust. Why was he acting like an Academy boy who has just read his first erotic scroll?
Marigold tilted her head to the side, and her full, pink lips curved into a shy smile. “The bath is lonely without you.”
“Oh!” On the inside, he winced at his lack of eloquence. Why hadn’t he paid her a compliment or said something witty? She was probably regretting having revealed herself to the unworthy fledgling who could do nothing but gape.
Marigold turned, and Berrin’s gaze dropped straight to her shapely behind. Her hips curved with each step of her shapely thighs, the movement transfixing his attention and emptying his mind. A whimper escaped his throat, and all bodily awareness concentrated on his hard, pulsing length. He clenched his teeth, cursing himself for being so useless. His brothers would know exactly how to turn a situation like this into an unforgettable romantic encounter.
“Won’t you join me?” She turned her head and glanced up at him through long, amber lashes.
“Yes,” he rasped. On legs that seemed to shuffle forward on their own accord, he followed her to the pool, his numb fingers fumbling over the buttons of his shirt.
Chapter 6
Marigold sauntered back to the pool and descended the steps, wading into the warm, welcoming water. It heated her skin, engulfing her in a sensation akin to ecstasy. Since leaving the House of Corrections, she had gone from one harrowing situation to another. She lowered her gaze and stared into the water. When the General had mentioned the inquisitors, her heart had shattered, and she had feared a prolonged and painful death. But Berrin promised to convince his brother of her innocence. And now, she was bathing in a pool fit for a queen. Best of all, the brothers knew of the extent of her crimes and hadn’t mentioned sending her back to Boreas.
“Marigold?”
She glanced up. Berrin stood at the edge of the pool, transfixed. His aquamarine eyes were round, cheeks flushed, and quick, shallow breaths left his parted lips. His fingers muddled about with the buttons of his shirt. From his expression and the thick, hard length straining towards the waistband of his breeches, it was clear that he would need her help to undress.
“Yes?”
“Are you sure you want me in there with you?”
Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. She needed this. She needed him to erase her memories of the past eighteen months, where the only touches she had received had been cruel. She needed those strong arms around her, to feel the weight of his body atop hers, pleasuring, loving, and protecting.
Marigold waded towards him, and he stepped back, eyes widening further. She sighed. If he had been away at school for over a decade, he would probably not be as forthcoming as most men. She stepped out of the huge bath and stood before him, staring up into his handsome face. His dilated pupils had reduced his irises to a ring of blue-green, flaked with gold. Pressing her palms against his hard, heaving chest, she said, “We don’t have to do anything if you’re worried about propriety.”
Berrin’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “No. It’s not th
at.” His gaze darted to the side. “I have limited experience with women and don’t want to disappoint.”
“You impress me just by being yourself.” She raised her hands, sliding her fingers around the heated skin on his neck. He shuddered at her touch. “Would you hold me again?”
“Of course.” His arms wrapped around her shoulders, and he pulled her against his body.
She rested her head on a shoulder. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
His muscles tensed. “I-is this some sort of display of gratitude?”
“What?” Marigold drew back and raised her head.
Stern, aquamarine eyes stared down at her. “I didn’t show you kindness to gain your favor. It was simply the right thing to do.”
“I know.”
“I wouldn’t be so underhanded.”
“Berrin…” Marigold suppressed a sigh. How could anyone take offense at being thanked?
“And if you are laboring under the misconception—”
She stood on her tiptoes and cut off his words with a kiss. Berrin’s eyes widened, and he drew back, lips trembling. Before he could utter a word in defense or protest, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down.
Berrin parted his lips to gasp, and Marigold slipped the tip of her tongue into his mouth, teasing it open. His own tongue slid forth to meet hers, and in seconds, he was kissing back.
She slid her hand over to the collar of his shirt and glided her thumb over the first button and pushed it through its hole. Her fingers dropped down to the next fastening, and soon, she exposed his smooth, muscled chest to the navel. Berrin shrugged off the shirt, and it fell to the marble-tiled floor. Running her fingers along the fine dusting of amber hairs on his sternum, she leaned in to kiss his neck.
He shuddered, and in a breathy voice, murmured, “Are you sure about this, Mari—”
The thunk of a door slamming against the wall made her jump. They broke apart, and Berrin stepped in front, shielding her nakedness. Her heart stuttered, and she cowered behind Berrin’s larger frame.
Clad in a long, white nightshirt, Matheson stood at the doorway, fists clenched. His lip curled. “Do you not have a bone of compassion in your wretched body?”
Berrin’s shoulders widened, and he growled, “Get out.”
“Mother and Father’s corpses were taken away mere hours ago.” Matheson’s skin glowed an angry shade of crimson. “And hours before that, they were murdered!”
Marigold bowed her head and rested her clenched fists on Berrin’s broad, muscular back. Guilt washed over her like a splash of sour vinegar. How could she have been so selfish to seek comfort in the arms of a young man who had suffered a horrible bereavement? She closed her eyes, bowing her head. Since when had she become so insensitive?
“We all have our ways of coping, brother.” Berrin spat that last word. “And from what I’ve heard, you were no stranger to women during our parents’ hour of need.”
Matheson’s eyes flashed like lightning blazing across a green sky, and a low growl filled the room. Marigold’s heart jumped to her throat, and her pulse quickened. Just when she thought the brothers would attack each other, the door slammed.
Berrin’s posture relaxed, and he turned. “It feels that I am always apologizing for my brother. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for his conduct. He is distraught and not thinking straight.”
She shook her head. “It’s me who should be feeling bad. My presence here is causing a rift.”
“No.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’ve never been particularly close to Matheson. This awful tragedy has exacerbated old grievances, I suppose.”
“Maybe we should go to bed.”
Berrin lowered his gaze, and a flush bloomed on his cheeks. “Actually, I was hoping to bathe with you for a bit.”
“Oh.” Marigold’s breath hitched. Perhaps she had read the situation wrong. It seemed that Berrin wanted her comfort just as much as she wanted his. She covered up her surprise with a smile and reached down to the placket of his breeches. His hard length strained under the fabric, and she ran her fingers over the bulge. “Allow me.”
Berrin whimpered every time her fingers brushed his erection to unfasten a button, and each sound sent a shiver of arousal straight to her core. By the time she had exposed him fully, her folds were slick with want. His member was long and thick and hard, nestled in a patch of caramel-colored pubic hair. A pair of tight, lightly-furred balls hung beneath them, and Marigold’s fingers trembled. He was so much more delectable than her former fiancé, and she couldn’t wait to get her hands on him! Intertwining their fingers, she led him back into the pool.
Once they were submerged in the warm water, Marigold’s resistance broke. Running her tongue across her bottom lip, she wrapped her fingers around Berrin’s thick length. It felt as heavy as it looked. Beneath skin smoother than honeybee silk, his organ pulsed. Tensing, Berrin drew in a sharp breath. Her gaze flickered up to his face. “Are you all right?”
“Y-yes.” His face froze, eyes affixed in the direction of her groping hand. “Please, don’t stop.”
“I don’t intend to.” Marigold’s lips curved into a smile, and she tightened her grip.
His jaw dropped, and he clamped his hands over her shoulders. “Oh, Mari—”
She swiped her thumb over the smooth head of his penis, eliciting a gasp. Leaning into him, she ran her tongue across his corded neck muscles, and over veins, which had become prominent. Berrin shivered, and she smiled. He was wonderfully responsive. She couldn’t wait to see how he would react when her hand started moving.
“Oh!” His breath quickened into shallow pants.
“Do you like that?” She murmured into his pulse, gliding her fingers down his shaft and over the furred skin of his tightened balls.
“Y-yes,” his voice was a breathy moan. “But Mari, please don’t tease me.”
“Very well.” Marigold drew back from his neck and glanced down to inspect her handiwork. Berrin’s chest rose and fell in sharp, rapid bursts, in time with the tightening and loosening of his abdominal muscles.
She gave his testicles one last squeeze and let her hand glide upwards. Gripping him at the base, she slid her hand up his shaft. Every gasp, every moan, stirred Marigold until a slickness built up between her folds. She moved to caress her swollen nub but stopped. There would be plenty of time for that after she’d shown him her appreciation—both for his kindness and his handsome face and enticing, hard body.
One of his hands slid down from her shoulder, his fingertips tracing an agonizingly tentative path over the swell of her breast. “M-may I?”
“Oh, yes!” Marigold arched her back, eager for his touch.
Berrin’s fingers trembled as they circled her breast. “You’re so beautiful.”
She closed her eyes, luxuriating in his attentions. At first, his touches were light and unsure. The reverberations of his heart against her chest caused her own excitement to surge, and she gave him an approving hum. Berrin’s feather-light touches became surer, and he circled her breasts with firm, massaging strokes. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, Marigold exhaled a shuddering breath. He was certainly learning fast. Then, Berrin cupped the entire breast in his large hand, rubbing his thumb over her hardening nipple. A soft moan escaped her lips.
“Am I pleasing you?” He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
It was Marigold’s turn to tremble. The sensations shot straight to her core, and her fingers tightened around his hard, throbbing member. “Yes!”
Berrin’s lips descended on her neck, kissing, nipping, and teasing at the skin. While he thrusted back and forth, his darkened cock-head poked through her fist.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “So soft, so beautiful… I never knew it would ever be so fantastic!” Berrin continued his outpouring of compliments, teasing and massaging her breasts until her head spun. Marigold’s eyelids fluttered, and ecstasy coursed through her body. Thi
s was exactly what she needed. To be wrapped in the loving embrace of a strong, handsome male who offered both pleasure and protection. For these rapturous moments, she could push aside thoughts of being a fugitive, and of the atrocities she’d seen and suffered since leaving the House of Corrections.
Marigold varied the pressure of her grip, squeezing, kneading and caressing his thrusting member. The more Berrin spoke, the more difficult it became for him to form sentences. His member swelled, and he said through gritted teeth,“I’m going to… Unngh!”
He stiffened, and Marigold glanced down into the water. Within her grip, his cock made several powerful pulses, and he ejaculated in bursts resembling clouds of white liquid. They rose halfway to the surface of the bath, only to dissipate and float down like snowflakes in the wind. Marigold’s eyes widened, and her mouth watered. She couldn’t wait for a chance to have that beautiful organ in her mouth.
Berrin’s head slumped, and his breath heaved. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed her into a tight embrace. “That was wonderful! I really want to return the favor, but I don’t know…”
She grabbed his wrist and pulled it into the water. He had already proven himself a better man than her former fiancé, but his humility and considerate nature never ceased to delight. After resting her back against his chest, she guided his hand between her legs, and murmured, “I’ll show you.”
Berrin’s fingers landed on the seam of her sex, and she moved his index finger to skim her swollen nub. The sensation drew a gasp from her lips and caused her nipples to tighten. “Be gentle,” she murmured. “It’s really sensitive.”
“Is this all right?” His finger made soft, teasing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. With his other hand, Berrin teased her nipples.
When his hardening length brushed against her buttocks, a lungful of air puffed out of Marigold’s lips. It took all her self-control not to beg him to bend her over the ledge of the pool and fill her with that thick, tantalizing length.
“Or like this?” His thumb joined his index finger, and he worked her folds, squeezing them together, creating the most delicious, yet indirect friction. A jolt of pressure shot from her nub to her belly, not stopping until it forced out a delighted yelp. She must have flinched, because his hands stilled. “Was that too much?”