“I don’t know if the ceremony will take place here or in Zanderone, but you will know very soon.”
The small staff were overjoyed, and curtsied and congratulated them, then hurried away so they could begin to serve the meal.
“There are a few things you should know,” Larian began as he poured some freshly squeezed juice from an exotic fruit Lizbett had not seen before. “When I enter the sleep of Zinyana you may lay next to me, but you cannot lay on top of any of my limbs. I believe I made that clear to you before, but it bears repeating.”
“Yes, of course,” she said solemnly. “I’ll never forget what happened to your arm.”
“You cannot disturb me. If someone comes to the door to see me they must wait. The staff here understands that, and you must too.”
“What if it’s some kind of emergency.”
“Only, and I repeat, only, in a very dire emergency you may whisper my name and gently touch my shoulder, then leave. I must bring myself up slowly, and it is better I am alone to do this.”
“How often do you go into Zinyana?”
“Every three days, but it does depend on what’s happening. Even though I had that sleep in the carriage, I can feel my body is asking to be restored so I must do it tonight. Until our wedding night you will be sleeping in the guest quarters so there won’t be any problem, unless you decide to be naughty as you were in the castle.”
“No, I won’t,” she promised.
“Tomorrow I will show you the boundaries of my land, and Lizbett, you must not go beyond them. You are completely safe here; it is known this land belongs to a Warrior Of The First Order, and a Commander, and that there is a retinue of guards that live here, so no-one would dare attempt to break in, but outside there are regular people and that means not all of them are good.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere without you, Larian, so you don’t have to worry.”
“Excuse me, Sir.”
Larian looked up and saw the housekeeper holding a sealed letter.
“This just arrived,” she said walking over to him. “The messenger is waiting for a response.”
“Tell the messenger I’ll be with him shortly. Please be sure he receives something to drink and eat if he desires it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Lizbett watched him break the seal and unfold the paper, then smile.
“What is it?” she asked eager to hear the good news.
“It’s from my Prince. All is stable in Zanderone. The attempted takeover of the throne appears to have been limited to Verdana, but he understands the safety concerns for you so he gives his blessing should we choose to have our wedding ceremony here.”
“How did he find out about us so fast?”
“A warrior cannot marry without permission from his Prince,” Larian said solemnly, “and he knew my reason for visiting Verdana.”
“You knew you wanted me before you left Zanderone?”
“I told you that.”
“Well, yes…but I wasn’t…I mean I didn’t know you’d been so sure.”
“A warrior is always prepared. Better to ask permission and not need it, than have to wait for it to be granted.”
“Oh, yes, that makes sense,” she said slowly.
“Plus, I’m sure your father told him I was bringing you back here with me when he sent his own message the night of the banquet. It’s not advanced battlefield training to figure out what was happening between us.”
“So…we have father’s blessings, and the Prince’s.”
“We do, and you want to know-”
“-if tomorrow after the West sun rises is too soon for our ceremony,” she interrupted with a wide smile
“Um, yes,” he laughed. “I would suggest ten passes of the moons. That will give us time to prepare the house, determine who will attend and send their notices-”
“-and for me to have the dress made, but wait, I know exactly what I will wear, but I need a handmaiden, someone trustworthy, and I don’t want the servant I had at the castle. She was a dull girl.”
“I have an idea,” he said. “Falayla. She saved your life, she saved all our lives, and that would be a fitting reward.”
“Didn’t she…uh…flirt with you in the banquet ante-chamber,” Lizbett frowned, “and that reminds me, why did Zoltaire say he’d helped ladies off Thunder before?”
“Lizbett, do you think you are the only woman who has felt the touch of my lips or the caress and sting of my hand?” he asked incredulous at her question
“I don’t like to think about it,” she pouted.
“Where is my bag,” he muttered, and pulling it from his waist belt he retrieved the piece of paper and his writing implement.
“What are you doing? I was only asking a question,” she protested.
“No, you were being jealous and insecure, and I believe you were beginning to pout,” he declared as he scribbled.
“I don’t like this new way of discipline at all,” she quipped.
“Do you wish me to send a message to Falayla or not?” he asked ignoring her comment.
“Do you want me to?”
“It matters not to me. I simply suggested her because I think she deserves it.”
“It would be good if I did use her, wouldn’t it?” she mumbled.
“Yes, it would be good, but you should only have a girl you really want, otherwise you won’t be happy.”
“I shall think on it today, and give you my answer before you enter Zinyana.”
“That will be fine,” he smiled, “and I shall respond to the Prince’s message that the ceremony will take place here, ten passes of the moon from tonight.”
“Larian, I’m so excited, so very, very excited.”
“The messenger is waiting so I must write the note. Continue your meal. I’ll return in a moment.”
She watched him leave, and as she considered his suggestion of using Falayla as her servant, she stared out the window at the grounds beyond and her mind began to wander.
What a journey this has been. I wonder why he didn’t want me to bring any fine clothes. I suppose I shall know soon enough. Clothes, my goodness I must unpack, and I ache for a soak. I hope there’s a tub here, I didn’t check any of the anti-rooms.
A short time later the housekeeper bustled back in with a fresh plate of baked fowl, and after placing it on the table she curtsied and looked at Lizbett expectantly.
“Excuse me, Princess.”
“Yes?”
“The Commander asked me to tell you that he has been called to the warrior’s house and might be a while.”
“Oh, um, thank you. Tell me, is there a soaking tub here?”
“Yes, Princess, in the Commander’s anteroom.”
“But not in the guest chamber.”
“No, Princess.”
“Would you please fill the soaking tub with warm water and rose petals.”
“Of course, Princess, I shall see to it at once, but we don’t have rose petals here. We do have another fragrant flower, it is similar.”
“That will be fine, just something nicely scented to rid me of this smell of travel.”
“I will see to it at once, Princess,” she said, then curtsied again and hurried away.
Lizbett realized she didn’t know the formalities of Zanderone. In Verdana it wasn’t necessary for the servants to continually curtsy, just once, the first time of the day, and she made a mental note to ask Larian how she should behave around his Prince and his court.
She continued her meal, ate some of the baked fowl and found it to her liking, drank some of the honey flavored drink that had been served in a large carafe, then leaned back in her chair and sighed.
He’s taking so long. I hope there is nothing wrong with his men. I’m dying for a soak. I think I’ll just go ahead. Hopefully by the time I’m finished and dressed he’ll be back.
Rising from her chair she made her way up the stairs, entered his bed chamber, and found the housekeeper leaving the
anteroom; as before the woman immediately curtsied.
“The soaking tub is filled with warm water and the fragrant petals from the flower rosamine,” she declared. “I hope it is to your liking.”
“Thank you, please see I’m not disturbed.”
“Of course, Princess,” the housekeeper replied, and curtsied again.
“That could get really annoying,” Lizbett muttered as she entered the anteroom and closed the door.
Peeling off her clothes she stepped carefully into the tub and sank into the warm, inviting water; it was the largest tub she’d ever been in, and she realized it had to be oversized to accommodate Larian’s tall, wide frame. The aroma of the petals filled her sensitive nostrils, and she new immediately it was a combination of rose and jasmine.
How did they bring the two together? How extraordinary. I would love to see the flower.
Stretching out and laying back she closed her eyes. She was so happy, as happy as she’d ever been, and though the skin on her bottom was still tender she didn’t mind a bit; on the contrary she liked the feeling.
The memory of the delicious, devouring explosion across Larian’s lap inside the carriage began to float into her mind, and her hand wandered down her body and between her legs.
It was so amazing, I wonder if I can make it happen by myself. Maybe he released something inside me that has been preventing me from-
“No, Lizbett.”
Her eyes shot open, and standing over her Larian looked bigger than life.
“Why not? You have not forbidden it.”
“You’re correct, it was my oversight,” he smiled, and kneeling beside the tub he dropped his hand in the water. “This is a precious jewel,” he purred as he moved his fingers into her slit and touched her nub, “and it belongs to me.”
“Larian,” she sighed, “it feels so wonderful when you do that, but it is my body. I don’t understand why I can’t touch it.”
“Do you not belong to me?” he asked patiently.
“Uh, yes, but-”
“There is no but. Your luscious breasts,” he continued, moving his fingers up to tweak her nipples, “they belong to me too, your bottom is mine to spank or caress as I choose, and this precious jewel,” he purred moving his fingers back between her legs, “this most especially, is to be handled only by me.”
“And if it is hungry?”
“You will tell me, and I will decide if it deserves to be fed.”
“It is hungry now,” she said softly. “Is there any reason it shouldn’t be satisfied?”
“There is the list in my bag, but those items will be addressed in five more passes of the moons, so at the moment I see no reason it should not have the attention it craves.”
“Do you mean that it will be left hungry because of the list?”
“If the list grows, I suspect it might,” Larian replied raising his eyebrows.
“I don’t like that list,” she frowned.
“As you said earlier, but do you want to talk about the list, or do you want me to give your nugget what it wants?”
“Oh, definitely that,” she said fervently.
“Are you almost finished with your soak?”
“I am, it was divine, I needed it so badly,” she sighed.
“Then dry yourself off and I will be waiting on my bed.”
“Thank you, Larian,” she smiled. “Will you help me so I won’t slip? This is such a large tub.”
“Of course,” he said, and gripping her upper arm he helped her to her feet, then added, “I think I shall soak for a moment myself while you dry off. Lock the chamber door and lay on my bed, hands above your head so you won’t be tempted.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said reaching for a large absorbent cloth the housekeeper had left her.
“Wait,” he said as he lowered himself down. “I’d rather you wait for me on your knees and elbows.”
Lizbett paused, picturing how she would appear, and a hot blush began to cross her face.
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Did you say, knees and elbows?”
“I did, and your face in a pillow.”
“But, uh…”
“Do I need to add to the list?”
“NO, no, Sir, I shall wait as you ask.”
As she padded from the anteroom he broke into a smile.
The list. I am so glad it occurred to me. I must share it with Uncle next time I see him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Lizbett was mortified. She’d been waiting on her knees and elbows with her head buried in a pillow just as he’d instructed, but the thought of how she must look was burning her face.
Why does he want me like this? It’s so…open. I’m so open. He’ll see all of me in a very…open way.
“What a good girl you are.”
She hadn’t heard him approach, and while she found his praise comforting it wasn’t enough to alleviate her hot embarrassment, but when his hand dropped underneath her torso to gently squeeze each of her breasts it helped, and as his soft caress continued she found herself thinking more about his warm, tantalizing fingers than her lewd pose.
“Is this position difficult for you?” he purred.
“Yes, very,” she managed.
“But you did it anyway. That pleases me, Lizbett, I’m proud of you.”
“Th…thank you.”
“I didn’t ask you to do this to make you uncomfortable, though I knew you would be. I asked you so you’d have an opportunity to please me in spite of how it felt, and you did. This makes me very happy.”
She sighed, then moaned, and as he climbed on to the bed behind her she let out a small whimper.
“Yes, Lizbett, I can see all of you, and every part of you is beautiful.”
Hearing another whimper he smoothed his palm over her backside. Its fading marks suggested the acute soreness had passed, but he assumed there’d be some residual tenderness. Placing his hands on her cheeks he fondled and gently pinched, bringing the blood to the surface, then traveling his hands to her legs he stroked her inner thighs, then squeezed her skin just enough to tantalize.
“Ooh, Sir.”
“You are starting to feel better,” he said softly, spying her tell-tale wetness.
“A bit,” she whimpered.
Moving his hands to the pink folds he tenderly separated them and touched his finger to the entrance of her trough; he was rewarded with a bleating moan and a wriggle.
To view her charms in the light of day, completely naked and so utterly exposed sent his cock surging to attention, and taking it firmly in his hand he placed it where his finger had just touched.
“You are tight and small,” he murmured. “I’ll have to play with you each day so you will be ready for our first night as husband and wife.”
“As you wish, Sir,” she mewled, her voice muffled by the pillow.
“The sight of you, Lizbett, it takes my breath away. You are divine, absolutely divine.”
Keeping his cock at her entrance he moved his fingers to her sweet nut and gently rubbed; she immediately turned her head to the side, gasping with delight.
“Thank you, thank you,” she breathed, and wriggled again, dislodging his cock from its resting place.
Just as well. If she opened up it would be very difficult not to press home and she’s not ready. I must work her.
“Lizbett, move your hand against your nugget. I want to see you rub it.”
“You do? But I thought-”
“I’m instructing you to,” he said continuing to massage it himself. “I will enjoy watching.”
Lifting her hand she moved it underneath her body, and when her fingers touched his a spark of heat flooded her loins.
“Sir,” she breathed, “to feel your fingers upon me and to touch them with mine, it makes me tingle.”
“Massage, Lizbett, massage freely.”
He watched her fingers circle and knead, and dropping the hand that had been fondling her cheek he b
egan rubbing himself, but allowed the indulgence for only a few moments.
Shifting his focus back to his more important task he inserted his forefinger into her narrow, moist channel; though long and thick his finger fit her perfectly, and he began to frig her, rhythmically pushing it in and sliding it out
As he increased the tempo he saw that her fingers followed suit; she was moaning and wriggling, all thought of her salacious exposure having been swept away by her craving need. To his delight her slippery juices began to flow, and presenting a second finger he carefully pushed forward; her soaked trough opened and accepted, and feeling a rush through his loins he felt his cock wanting to burst.
“Oh, Lizbett,” he growled, “you are such a passionate, hungry girl.”
His words and the thickness of his two fingers thrusting into her channel sent a wash of energy coursing through her, and without thought she bucked her bottom, and unabashedly cried out her need.
“Please, Sir, do it harder, faster.”
Quickly shifting to her side he wrapped his arm across her hips, and plunging his fingers forward he let caution fly and frigged aggressively.
“Yes, oh, I love it, I love it,” she wailed.
“Head into the pillow, cry and scream if you must, but into the pillow,” he said urgently, worried the servants might hear her.
“More,” she whispered, “harder and more.”
Overjoyed he pumped with hard, slow, forceful strokes, and a moment later he received his reward; she pushed back against his hand, released a low howl, and her walls pulsed against his fingers.
Quickening the thrusts he milked her moment, giving her as much pleasure as the climax could offer. She bucked and uttered her cries of joy as the spasms fired, until, with a last gasp, she dropped her hand from her sex and moaned her bliss. Slowly withdrawing his fingers, but keeping his arm around her hips, he fondled her bottom cheeks.
“Sir,” she whimpered.
“Stay as you are,” he said softly, “I love looking at you this way.”
He smoothed his hand over her luscious curves as he stared at the saturated, bright pink flesh between her thighs, and gazed fondly at her most private part nestled between her proud, round cheeks, then slowly returned to his position directly behind her.
The Warrior and the Petulant Princess Page 17