Trapped in Time

by Evangeline Anderson

  She seemed to feel a bit awkward sitting down in the half-bath, as though she had never been in one before. Which was curious, since she had one in her rooms, which her maid Mary Ann used to help her bathe on a regular basis.

  Nevertheless, she sat down willingly enough and the water came up to her waist and covered her thighs. Her knees were hooked over the edge of the tub so that her feet were planted on the carpeted floor. She started to sit back against the porcelain back of the half bath but then she jerked away with a little hiss.

  “Oh! That’s cold!” she exclaimed.

  “Lean forward and I’ll pour a little warm water down the back of the bath,” Richard offered. “Then you can relax in warmth and comfort.”

  He did as he had offered and soon Caroline was able to lean back with a little sigh of pleasure against the now-warm back of the tub. She looked up at him, her big brown eyes both shy and expectant.

  “Well?” she asked softly. “What now?”

  “Now I bathe you, my darling.” Richard had to fight to keep the eager growl of pure desire out of his voice. His greatest fantasy was coming true—Caroline was finally opening up to him—finally allowing the intimacy she had denied him so long.

  Going to the mantelpiece, he found a small bar of Francais-milled lavender soap and a sea sponge. Mother Griffith’s was careful to stock everything a nobleman might wish, should he choose to spend the night in the spare room. Now Richard was glad of it.

  He wet the sponge in her bath water and worked up a lather with the soap. Then, taking Caroline’s right arm, he began to wash her, from the tips of her dainty fingers all the way up.

  Caroline sighed and relaxed as he bathed her, leaning her head against the high back of the tub and closing her eyes in apparent pleasure as he took his time washing her limbs. At last, however, her arms and legs were clean and patted dry with a soft bit of fabric and Richard was ready to move on.

  “I’m going to bathe your breasts now, my love,” he murmured in her ear. “Unless you think the sponge will be to rough on your sensitive flesh?”

  Caroline’s eyes flew open and she gave him an uncertain, but longing look.

  “I…yes, I think it might be too rough,” she said. “But…maybe you could just use your bare hands?”

  Fill his hands with her heavy globes and stroke her sensitive peaks with his fingers until she moaned for him? Gods…Richard had thought his shaft couldn’t get any harder, nor his fangs any sharper, but she had proved him wrong with her soft words.

  “That would be my pleasure,” he told her, his voice rough with desire. “If it is truly what you want.”

  Caroline nodded, looking more decisive.

  “It is,” she said and thrust out her chest, as though to give him better access. “It really is, Richard.”

  “I shall come around behind you,” he told her. “It will be easier to reach you that way.”

  “All right,” she whispered. “But hurry. I want your hands on me.”

  Her soft words sent another jolt of desire to his shaft and he hastened to get into position. Kneeling behind the bath, he was at just the right height to reach around her and whisper in her ear at the same time. As he lathered his hands and reached around to cup her full breasts in his palms, he could not help but remember the pleasure he’d had from sucking them the last time she had allowed him to get close to her.

  “Gods, my darling, your breasts are so full…so ripe,” he murmured hoarsely in her ear as he soaped her generous curves and then tugged lightly on the pink tips of her nipples.

  “Oh!” she moaned, writhing against the back of the tub. “Oh, Richard!”

  How he loved hearing his name on her lips! But even better was knowing that she was moaning it in pleasure—pleasure he was giving to her. Gently, he twisted her stiff peaks and then palmed them lightly to vary the sensation. Caroline moaned and writhed again—how sensitive she was! And how responsive to his touch.

  “Richard…Richard, please!” she begged softly. “I need…need more.”

  “Do you want me to wash you lower?” he murmured in her ear. “Shall I stroke your soft little sex as I did before, my darling?”

  Her answer was immediate.

  “Yes—please!” As she spoke, she spread her thighs for him and arched her back—it was as though her whole body was begging for his touch.

  Richard was more than happy to gratify her need. After rinsing the soap from her breasts, he let his hands wander lower, down to her welcomingly parted thighs. Beneath the warm water, he cupped something much warmer, feeling her curls tickle his palm before he pressed inward and felt the heat of her inner core envelope his seeking fingers.

  She cried out as he found and circled the tight little bud at her center. The sound of her pleasure was nearly too much for Richard. He loved touching her but there was something he wanted far more—something he needed.

  “You’re so soft here, my darling,” he growled in her ear. “So hot and wet. But it isn’t my fingers I want to use to bathe you—it is my tongue.”

  “I…what…what are you saying?” she gasped breathlessly, craning her neck around to look up at him.

  “I want to taste you,” Richard told her bluntly. “I want to spread the petals of your sex with my tongue and lap your honey right from the source.”

  Caroline bit her lip, clearly uncertain. “I…I don’t know,” she whispered at last. “What if…what if I don’t like it?”

  “Then I’ll stop,” Richard said firmly. “I would never do anything you were unwilling to have me do, my darling.”

  After a moment, she nodded.

  “All right. You can try it,” she said softly. “I just hope…hope it’ll be okay.”

  If Richard had anything to say about it, the experience would be nothing but pleasure for her, though he knew society at large would not have approved of it.

  This practice of the Kindred—their need to taste their mates—had been one of the main factors in his people’s loss of favor in the prim and proper upper classes. The practice of “kissing below the mouth” as it was discretely called, was deeply frowned upon. There were even books about marriage for young brides-to-be where they were specifically warned against it.

  But Richard couldn’t help himself—no Kindred male could. The need to taste their females was as deeply ingrained as their need to breathe and no male could be content without it. Bearing that in mind, he was determined to make the experience a good one for Caroline—one she would never forget and even come to crave from him in the future.

  He helped her up from the bath and dried her off, patting her rosy skin with the soft fabric towel until she was quite dry. Then he lifted her and cradled her close to his chest as he brought her to the bed.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Caroline protested. “Don’t have to carry me around like that.”

  “But I want to.” He pressed a kiss to her mouth before depositing her gently on the blue and green checked quilt. It was homemade but soft and clean and Caroline looked lovely lying there naked upon it.

  Richard arranged her so that she was positioned with her lower legs over the side of the bed and started to get on his knees before her. But she stopped him.

  “Wait,” she begged softly. “Lie beside me for a while first. Kiss me some more—my mouth, I mean—before you, uh, kiss me lower.”

  He was more than willing to accede to her request—hadn’t he promised himself to take things slowly?

  “Of course, my darling,” he murmured, lying down beside her and stoking her hair. “I love to be close to you.”

  “Can you open your shirt?” Caroline asked, plucking at his buttons. “I…I’d like to feel your bare chest against mine,” she added shyly.

  “You can open it yourself if you like.”

  “Mmm, I do like.” She gave him a smile and went to work on his buttons.

  Richard smiled at her eagerness to comply with his offer. In short order, she had him stripped down to his trousers. But
when she started to take those off too, he stopped her.

  “No, my darling,” he murmured. “I think both of us being naked at the same time is a bad idea—I want you too badly and the temptation to take you might be overwhelming.”

  “Oh…” She looked disappointed. “But what if we promised each other not to get carried away? Could I just see you? Just touch you the way you’ve been touching me?”

  Richard frowned. “I suppose I could open my trousers for you whilst still keeping them on.”

  “Yes, please.” She looked up at him pleadingly. “I want to know you, Richard—know you the way you know me.”

  He was beginning to think he didn’t know her at all—or he never had until now. But he could deny her request no longer.

  Reaching down with one hand, he unfastened his trousers and brought out his shaft, which was long and hard and aching for her in the firelight.

  “Oh…” Caroline murmured. She reached for him and then hesitated. “Can I…could I touch it? Just a little?”

  “I suppose it is only fair since I have been exploring your soft, curvy body and sweet inner folds all this time,” Richard mused. “All right, darling—go ahead.”

  Eagerly, with flushed cheeks and quickening breath, she reached for him. He had to bite back a groan when her cool, soft little hand closed over his throbbing hardness. She stroked up and down his length, exploring every inch of his shaft with her shy but curious fingers from the heavy sack between his thighs to the broad, flaring crown at the tip.

  “Gods, Caroline,” he groaned at last. “And I thought I was meant to be the one examining you.”

  Her face grew serious.

  “You can examine me if you want. But I promise you, Richard—nothing bad happened. You got to me in time.”

  This time Richard was inclined to believe her. He didn’t think a woman who had been recently traumatized by a rape would be so willingly handling a male member not an hour later.

  “All right,” he murmured. “I believe you, my darling. But I would still love to be between your thighs at this moment—tasting your soft little cunny.”

  He saw her shiver at the dirty word and she bit her lip with uncertainty.

  “All right,” she whispered. “Thank you for, uh, letting me have a turn. I like the way you feel in my hand,” she added, shyly.

  “And I love the way your hand feels on me,” Richard assured her. “But, like all Kindred, I ache most to taste my lady’s sweet juices. Will you allow me to now?”

  Caroline nodded and he kissed her again, softly on the mouth, before sliding down to the side of the bed to get between her thighs.

  “Just go slow,” she begged softly, looking down at him. “I’m still not sure how I feel about this.”

  “Would that be because of the books you’ve been given to read which specifically warn of such ‘unnatural practices’?” Richard asked.

  A guilty blush spread over her cheeks and she cast her eyes down, not looking at him.

  “I…did read something like that,” she admitted in a small voice.

  Given to her, no doubt, by her mother, Richard thought grimly. He even thought he knew which one she’d read. But he must endeavor to correct the misinformation she had been given.

  “Darling, look at me,” he said, raising up again and lifting her chin so that their eyes met. “We are one flesh—man and wife,” he murmured, when at last her gaze met his. “We are made to submit ourselves to each other—both physically and emotionally as we become one. Within the confines of that sacred relationship, what harm can we do by giving each other pleasure? You must believe me when I say it is no sin for me to kiss and taste you—it is simply a new way of loving and showing that love.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Caroline nodded thoughtfully, though her gaze on his was still a bit shy. “All right, Richard—go ahead.”

  “With pleasure.” He knelt between her legs again—the place he’d longed to be since the first time he had dreamt of her—and parted her thighs.

  She was naked and soft, her outer lips plump and rosy under the neatly trimmed thatch of strawberry blonde curls. Richard longed to lick her at once—to open her with his tongue and take a long, loving taste of her inner folds. But again, he made himself go slowly.

  Instead of tasting her right away, he nuzzled her gently, letting her get used to the sensation of his face between her thighs, and marking her with his own scent—another Kindred instinct he could not deny.

  He took his time about it, rubbing and nuzzling until at last he was kissing her outer lips gently, covering their softness with the heat of his mouth but not yet using his tongue.

  Gods, her scent was arousing! He could feel his shaft throbbing between his thighs as he inhaled her feminine desire. He could tell that Caroline was growing more and more ready to let him in—to allow his tongue access to her sweet inner folds. But he didn’t want to rush things—and so he waited for a sign.

  At last he heard her give a soft sigh and then her fingers reached for him and carded lightly through his hair. Looking up, he saw that her big brown eyes were soft and willing.

  “Thank you for going so slowly,” she whispered. “I think…I think I’m ready for you to go on now. To go deeper.”

  This was exactly what Richard had been waiting for. Delicately, he spread the outer lips of her sex with his thumbs, revealing her wet inner folds and the throbbing little button of desire at her center. Gently, he placed a hot, sucking kiss over the little bundle of nerves and then laved it with his tongue. Her warm, salty flavor filled his mouth, making his shaft ache even more fiercely as he lapped her again and the again, eager to get more.

  The effect of his tongue on Caroline was immediate and electric.

  Her whole body stiffened, as though in surprised pleasure, and her fingers tightened in his hair. At the same time, she made a sound that was half moan-half gasp.

  A bit concerned about her response, Richard looked up at her.

  “Is it all right, darling? Is it too much?” he asked.

  Her eyes were wide and she shook her head quickly.

  “No, Richard—it’s exactly right. I…I’ve never felt anything like it—never felt anything like I do when you touch me…when you taste me. Please…please, don’t stop. Do it some more,” she begged in a trembling voice.

  Richard felt a low growl of pure desire building in his throat.

  “With pleasure, my darling,” he murmured hoarsely and bent his head to the pleasurable task at hand of tasting his wife.

  * * * * *

  “Oh…Oh!” Caroline moaned as he lapped her again and again. She hadn’t been lying when she told Richard she’d never felt anything like it when he tasted her—she hadn’t. The boyfriend in grad school couldn’t compare. And it wasn’t just his technique, either—it was the special connection she had with Richard—she was sure it was. That, somehow, made everything better—realer—more pleasurable.

  Caroline bucked against the big Kindred’s mouth as he lapped and sucked her. He had this way of sucking her clit into his mouth and circling it over and over with the tip of his tongue that was driving her wild. But then, just as she was beginning to get close to orgasm, he would stop and do something else—bathe her entire pussy with long, slow, hot strokes of his tongue, or dip lower to press deep into the well of her sex, tasting her juices right from the source, just as he had said he wanted to do.

  At last she felt like she couldn’t take the teasing anymore. Her whole body was tight with desire, her back arching, her nipples throbbing because of the way he had one arm across her body, tugging and twisting her sensitive buds even as he lapped and sucked her pussy.

  “Richard,” she begged, arching her back and pressing against him. “Richard, please—make me come! Please, I need you to make me come!”

  She had never dreamed she would hear herself begging for sexual favors so wantonly but somehow the words just slipped out.

  I’m a terrible Victorian lady, she th
ought wildly. According to their books and customs, I’m just supposed to lay back and think of England—not writhe all over the bed and beg and moan for Richard to make me come.

  But somehow she couldn’t help herself. Maybe it was the long, slow tease which had begun when he started bathing her. Maybe it was just that he woke her body up and aroused her like no one had before. For whatever reason, Caroline couldn’t stop herself from begging shamelessly and writhing naked on the bed as he pressed between her thighs, lapping and sucking and kissing her pussy—driving her wild.

  “Gods, darling—I love to hear you ask for pleasure,” he groaned, coming up for air for a moment. “Just try to relax and I’ll bring you where you need to go-I swear it.”

  “All right…” Her fingers moved restlessly in his hair, her hips working, as though her body was begging mutely for him to finish the job. “I…I’ll try, Richard. But please, you’re driving me crazy.”

  He gave her a wolfish grin,

  “That’s the idea, my darling. Now just hold on and let me bring you to the peak.”

  Then he ducked his head back again and placed his mouth firmly over her throbbing folds.

  Caroline moaned as she felt him begin rubbing his tongue across the aching bud of her clit—rubbing, rubbing—in a very specific, steady rhythm that felt extremely deliberate. Before he had been varying his strokes and licks—teasing her even as he tasted her. But now she sensed he had a more definite strategy in mind. He was lapping her just the right way to make her come.

  As his steady rhythm against her clit began to build her pleasure, she felt him enter her below as well, with a single, long finger. As he lapped her throbbing button, he rubbed deep and hard inside her, pressing something—some pleasure center—she hadn’t even known was there. Was it her G spot? If so, Caroline had never been able to locate it herself but Richard seemed to know just where to press and he rubbed gently but firmly even as he lapped her clit.

  The combination of pleasurable sensations was too much. With a cry, Caroline felt herself soaring…soaring into pleasure as swiftly and surely as a bird takes flight.

  Her body tightened, her back arched, and her thighs clamped down on the sides of Richard’s head as though she was desperate to hold him in place. Wave after wave of pleasure wracked her and she cried out his name, over and over, unable to help herself, unable to stop.