“Shall we find some place quiet?”
A chill whisked through Ursula’s body at the flashing black eyes. Licking her lips, she nodded, her hand tracing up her mistress’ arm beneath the cloak.
Azrael kicked her horse to a trot and they sped down the road.
Chapter Nine
Azrael took them away from Provey a good two miles before leaving the road. Slowing her mount, she let him pick his way up a rise and into a meadow. A three-quarter moon lit the cloudless sky, illuminating their way.
Finding a likely spot, Azrael leaned back, the well-trained warhorse sensing her change of balance and stopping. With ease, the general picked Ursula up, swung her leg over the saddle and slid down the side of the animal with her cargo. Neatly setting the slave on her feet, Azrael led the horse to a stand of bushes where she draped his reins.
Ursula shivered, whether from the sudden chill now she wasn’t sharing her mistress’ cloak or a trickle of fearful desire, she didn’t know. She rubbed her upper arms as the general stalked forward.
Azrael watched the brunette as she drew near, unhooking her cloak from about her shoulders. Ursula was very desirable, the silk clinging to her supple form, a coppery reflection of moonlight sparkling from jewelry at wrist and throat. The slave was also nervous if her stance was any indication and Azrael wondered if they’d come here for nothing. Still, the bold if fearful maneuver on her horse was promising. It had been a week since Ursula’s capture; surely she was close to breaking.
Swallowing against the flutter in her stomach, Ursula gave the barest of flinches when her mistress removed the cloak with a flourish and laid it out on the ground beside them. Eyes lowered, she chanted her mantra, Midia’s words washing along the craggy shore of her insecurity - ‘willing participant.’
The general circled Ursula, eyes following the line of neck and shoulder, the skin bared along the back from the low cut gown, the gentle hint of what lay beneath the burgundy silk. Stopping before the slave, Azrael ran the back of her hand along a warm cheek, knowing even without proper light that the olive tones were darkening in a flush. Tracing the jaw line to the chin, she lifted Ursula’s face and bent in for a kiss.
Ursula sank into the familiar exploration. Her heart in her throat, hands trembling at her presumption, she caressed Azrael’s stomach, winding her arms around the firm waist. She was rewarded with an immediate escalation of the kiss and she hugged her mistress close, tentatively attempting entry past the warm lips and tongue that plied hers.
Feeling the feather touch, a hot kernel of arousal burst, spreading its warmth throughout Azrael’s body. As much as she wanted to ravage this beauty holding her, she didn’t dare, knowing it would frighten Ursula too much. Instead, she opened herself to the gentle touch, granting access as the woman delved into her mouth, at first with caution and then with growing need.
Ursula’s first taste was a heady one as she traced teeth and tongue. She clutched her mistress’ back in an attempt to crush her close, feeling hands ease into her hair, tracing her ears before sliding down to the collar at her throat. Moaning as Azrael’s tongue circled hers, she retreated luring her mistress into her mouth.
Finding the collar’s catch, Azrael opened it and let it fall to the grass. Her fingers gently rubbed where the metal had chafed, thumbs caressing beneath Ursula’s jaw as they forged a path to the hollow of her throat. She felt the slave’s pulse pounding just beneath the surface of her skin and decided it was time to explore the taste of her in other areas. Breaking off the kiss, Azrael followed the previously blazed trail.
The unusual sensation of wet heat along her jaw and ear nearly caused Ursula to swoon. Before she could falter, one of her mistress’ arms wrapped about her, callused hand squeezing her round buttock. Ursula’s body was on fire, hands grabbing at Azrael’s back as her breasts and belly ached for contact. She found herself pressing her hips forward, not knowing what she wanted.
Feeling the slave tremble in her arms, Azrael nipped at her throat, loosing her hold on mahogany hair and sliding down to cup Ursula’s full breast. “You are even more delicious than I imagined,” she whispered, enjoying the fervent response as she massaged the plaint flesh through silk, rolling the swollen nipple between her fingers. Her teeth found the juncture of Ursula’s neck and shoulder and she bit down with a satisfied rumble.
Not knowing whether to laugh or cry at her intense reaction, the slave opted to groan out her pleasure as Azrael feasted. Her hands, idle from days of not reacting to incendiary touches, had the powerful impulse to acquaint themselves with the dark woman’s body. Ursula took her lead from her mistress, sliding both of her hands down the strong back. She grabbed the muscular buttocks, firm from years of riding and fighting, and squeezed hard, gasping as Azrael growled and attacked her throat with a vengeance.
The brunette was definitely making up for lost time and Azrael was happy to accommodate. She followed the edge of the dress with one hand, pulling the expanse of silk from Ursula’s shoulder. It didn’t move with enough haste and Azrael tugged, causing the slave’s breasts to spill forth. Days of holding back behind her, the dark woman gratefully buried her face in the warm valley.
Startled and a little frightened at the degree of force being used to disrobe her, Ursula nevertheless found her mistress’ actions exciting. Her hands dislodged by Azrael’s stance, the slave pulled her arms up through those surrounding her, sliding them around her mistress’ shoulders.
Azrael considered pinning the brunette but lost herself in the feminine scent when she inhaled. As hands eased into her hair she massaged one of Ursula’s breasts, reveling in the sensation of soft skin, licking the flesh as she mouthed her way to the other.
“Oh!” Ursula panted when a tongue laved her nipple, lips closing over it to suckle. Her knees gave out and she sagged in Azrael’s arms, clutching at her thick black hair as both areoles were pinched, one between teeth and the other fingers.
Feeling the sudden weight in her arms, the general chuckled against warm flesh. She lay Ursula down on the cloak, pausing only long enough to divest herself of her tunic before following. Settling on her side she could now explore in leisure and proceeded to do so, caressing Ursula from jumping pulse point to just beneath the gown gathered at her waist, slowing things to allow the slave some equilibrium.
Ursula, uncertain with the change of scenery, lay still as she tried to catch her breath. Easy breathing was not forthcoming, however, as her mistress continued to touch her, eliciting sighs and moans as she played. The slave found herself running her fingers spasmodically over the cloak beneath her, shivering as Azrael traced down the inside of her arm or along her belly. She wanted something, yearned for it, not knowing what it was. Unable to remain still, Ursula captured the teasing hand and pulled it to her mouth.
Bemused, Azrael closed her eyes, finding the feather light kisses on her palm intriguing. When her thumb was enveloped by damp heat, her eyes flew open and she saw Ursula contentedly sucking. Growling, she replaced the thumb with her tongue, rolling onto the slave and pressing into her lithe body.
The weight was startling, vaguely reminiscent of the men who’d tried to rape her days ago. But the warm breasts rubbing hers, the muscled thigh between her legs and the soft lips soothed the memory away and replaced it with lust. Ursula’s hands found hot, bare skin and she scratched the strong back, tilting her hips to her mistress, trying to ease the ache. Azrael reciprocated, rubbing a muscular thigh against the steady throb, both easing and exasperating the sensation in the process.
Settling into a rhythm, the dark woman braced herself on one elbow as she nibbled and kissed Ursula. Azrael traced her fingers along the slave’s body, pulling the silk up one leg until she could reach the soft skin beneath. Clutching the back of Ursula’s thigh, she ground into the squirming woman, receiving a guttural moan in response.
Despite their carnal rocking, it wasn’t enough. Ursula almost whimpered as she struggled to achieve
something, any
thing. The plateau she was on seemed to go no further. Unable to go forward alone, the brunette escalated matters. With calculated risk, she slid a hand between them, caressing her mistress’ breast.
Azrael’s reaction was immediate. Growling against the nipple in her mouth, she increased the pace, fingers digging into the pliant flesh of Ursula’s buttock and hip. After several moments, she eased away, kissing the disappointed whimpers. With ease, she rolled onto her back, pulling the slave up to straddle her thighs.
From her new vantage point, Ursula had easy access to the tantalizing breasts before her. Caught up in the moment, she lost what shred of hesitance she once held and traced dark swollen nipples. She smiled as she realized her mistress was mirroring her movements, circling with one finger or sliding a thumb across the nub. Curious, the brunette tweaked an areole, gasping when she received the same.
Watching Ursula’s face as she explored, Azrael marveled at the woman’s beauty. It was no wonder her soldiers had singled her out, amber eyes sparking in moonlight, a sensual smile curving her lips. Azrael could simply observe her all day and count herself lucky. From the look in Ursula’s eye, she was pondering some action and the general moaned as the brunette bent forward.
The nipple in her mouth was salty and warm, a hard nugget of flesh against her tongue. Ursula felt her mistress’ hips surge upward, a hand crawling into her hair and holding her to her task. With sheer pleasure, she suckled, knowing from fresh experience what her ministrations were doing to Azrael.
Unable to hold back from her desires, Azrael brought both a hand to the thigh about her, drawing upward until her fingers dabbled in wet curls. Sliding easily in Ursula’s excited fluid, she traced swelling lips, easily finding the distended clitoris. She hissed when her attentions brought a sudden surge of hips and a sharp bite on her breast. “Not so hard, love,” she whispered, easing her middle finger along Ursula’s sex.
Trembling, the brunette released her hold on the nipple, not quite registering Azrael’s comment. Her body took over, primitive knowledge causing her to move against the fingers between her legs. She thrust down, sharp pants escaping her as she found herself suddenly impaled. Despite the unaccustomed sensation, Ursula found it to be exactly what she wanted as she lifted and pressed down again. Her hands squeezed her mistress’ breasts as she rode, all thought fleeing in the wake of moonlit arousal.
Silken walls gripped Azrael’s finger and she added a second as the woman above her began moving. Dark eyes narrowed to pleasurable slits, she watched Ursula’s face contort in desire, listened to the honeyed voice gasp words of encouragement, felt the crush of fingers on her chest. Using her free hand, she pulled the slave down for a kiss, reveling in the passionate exchange broken only by a groan as her thumb rubbed against Ursula’s clit.
With a shuddering gasp, Ursula felt the rush of arousal reach its height. For a single moment, she was perched on the edge, holding her breath as she strained against her lover’s hand. Then she was past, riding the wave down as she came, crying Azrael’s name into the night.
A gentle shaking woke her. Ursula opened her eyes to see Midia in the murky darkness of the tent. The blonde placed a finger over her lips and waved her forward. It took a moment for Ursula to comprehend but she finally nodded and took stock of her surroundings.
She was warm and comfortable in her mistress’ bed, the dark woman pressing against her from behind, a strong hand cupping her breast. Ursula sighed at the tingle between her legs, wondering if the previous night would be anytime soon. Reluctantly, she eased out from under Azrael’s arm and the covers, shivering in the chill of morning as she quickly donned her dress.
Midia had already ducked outside and Ursula followed, meeting her at the kitchen tent. No words were spoken, a week of working together lending familiarity to the needs of their owner. Still, the brunette wondered if Midia was jealous at being replaced in Azrael’s bed the previous night. The blonde showed no signs of ill will, however, smiling easily as they scooped coals from the banked fire into a brazier.
Ursula carried the heated brazier while Midia retrieved a pot of water. They trudged back to their mistress’ tent and set the water to heating just outside. Another trip was made to the kitchen to find cold food for Azrael’s early morning breakfast, something to tide her over until hot food was prepared.
Back inside, they cleared part of the table and set down the plate of leftovers from the previous night’s meal. Midia measured mint leaves into a cup so only hot water would be needed while Ursula pulled their mistress’ robe from a trunk and draped it across the foot of the bed. When all was in readiness, the brunette undressed and slipped back under the covers.
A shiver shook her body at the heat of Azrael’s skin against hers. Ursula scooted back until her mistress slid a hand along her body, returning it to the brunette’s breast. With a sigh, the slave drowsed, feeling the tickle of breath against the nape of her neck and hearing Midia ease back onto the pallet on the floor.
Again Ursula was awakened by a touch. Fingers caressed her belly and breast, idly tracing her navel and dipping down to tickle the apex of her thighs. Inhaling deeply, the brunette squirmed at the contact, pressing backwards. She could feel the chuckle as well as hear it, a rumbling against her neck where lips stroked her. The hand slid up her body, leisurely rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger before continuing on over her shoulder and to her neck.
Azrael brushed mahogany hair aside and nibbled the olive skin, eyes closed. Her palm drifted along the lithe form, following the curve of shoulder and waist and hip, stretching over a cool thigh. Applying pressure, she murmured, “Bring your knees up to your chest.”
The half asleep burr washed over Ursula and she did as ordered. Azrael’s hand eased down the back of her thigh and up between her legs, fingers finding the slave’s exposed sex. Ursula gasped as her mistress dipped past outer lips, surprised to note the wetness already forming there. A rumble from Azrael indicated her pleasure at the discovery and the brunette sighed as her mistress expertly caressed her, stroking in time with the slave’s gently rocking hips.
Movements becoming frantic, Ursula bit down on a groan as she climaxed, vaguely amazed at her readiness. As she lay catching her breath, she remembered Midia just a few feet away and blushed furiously. The brunette gasped as Azrael pulled her fingers away, wanting them back despite the embarrassment flooding through her. Salty musk assailed her nose and she found wet fingers in front of her mouth.
“Taste,” Azrael ordered.
Tentative, Ursula reached out to lick the offered fingers. She’d had the pleasure of tasting her mistress the night before but not herself. It was intriguing, alike and different, her essence sweeter than Azrael’s but still very nice. With a sigh, she bent to her task, her belly twisting in arousal.
“Delicious, isn’t it?” Azrael murmured, nibbling one ear. “I don’t think I can get enough.” She helped the brunette roll over.
“Yes, Milady,” Ursula offered before her lips were seared by a kiss.
Chapter Ten
After the rousing wake up, Ursula went about her chores with Midia. Azrael was soon dressed and eating breakfast as they tidied the bed and prepared for the day. Uncomfortable with her wanton behavior, Ursula avoided Midia’s eyes. That she’d been witness to many mornings of the same did little to ease her mortification. Midia seemed to sense this, acting as if all were normal. Of course, to the older slave it was, having years of experience with their mistress.
When all was readied, Midia tugged Ursula to the table and knelt.
“What is it, Midia?” Azrael asked, leaning back in her chair to gaze at her slaves.
“Milady, since we are to remain here today, perhaps Ursula and I can go into town and finish buying her clothing,” Midia suggested. “She had only rags when she came to you and now has but one good gown and her dress. Since she is your body slave, she should be appropriately dressed.”
Black eyes studied them. Midia’s expression was ma
tter of fact and Ursula stared at her lap. “What do you think, Ursula? Would you like another dress?”
There was an audible gulp as the slave peered up at Azrael. “I would like to please you, Milady,” she said after a long pause.
Azrael grinned wolfishly. “Oh, you have, Ursula. Never doubt that.” She almost laughed as wide amber eyes displayed unnerving lust. Unwittingly, she became lost in their color. Gods, the woman didn’t know how beautiful she was. With a reluctant sigh, her desire to take Ursula back to bed thwarted by duty, Azrael took the pouch from her belt and tossed it on the table with a clink. “Buy whatever you deem necessary, Midia,” she instructed. “I’ll be with the town council for most of the day.”
“Thank you, Milady,” Midia said, smiling and rising. She approached the table and took the pouch. “I’ll see that Ursula has everything she needs for a slave of her station.”
Azrael also stood, reaching out to take the blonde’s hand and pull her close. “Buy something nice for yourself, Midia,” she said, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips. “Maybe something for Petracal, as well.”
“You are most generous, Milady. Thank you!”
“Ursula.”
Interrupted from her jealousy at the display before her, Ursula approached her mistress. She was pulled into a fiery kiss, a breathless moan escaping her despite her best efforts.
“See to it that Midia buys something for herself. Else she’ll spend all my gold on other people,” Azrael whispered, pausing to nibble a delicate earlobe.
“Yes, Milady,” Ursula said, hands clutching at strong shoulders.
Just as suddenly, she was released. Azrael smiled at them, winking at Midia before striding from the tent.
Midia allowed her companion to gain control of her emotions before stating, “I think we can find all sorts of things that are finer than that peasant dress.”
On Azrael's Wings Page 8