The Good Sister: Part One

by London Saint James

  “Touch me, please,” I begged.

  Ashton kissed the hollow of my throat. He nuzzled, skimmed his mouth back to my lips, and kissed me deeply. His hand slid over my woman’s mound, cupping. He stoked the fire of my need with every lash of his tongue. Finally, his index finger slipped between the satin flesh of my lower lips. His touch, sensational.

  He touched between my legs. His kiss became deeper. As his tongue moved, his finger moved, mimicking a kiss to my clit. I pressed my hips upward into his touch. He slid his finger lower, finding the tight, untouched opening of my body. He swirled his digit around, gathering my moisture before sliding back up to my pouting tip. Ashton’s mouth claimed my mouth, while his finger worked my bud. He pinched my clit. This sent a shock through my body. I jerked, writhed. He stopped.

  “Shh…” he whispered in my ear, “do not kick around, my dove. It is too loud.”

  I shook my head in agreement. His hand cupped my throbbing secret. Ashton’s fingers worked their way back to my moist opening. He gently inserted the very tip of his index finger into my tightness. My fingers gripped his shoulder, unsure.

  “Do you wish me to stop?” he whispered.

  “No.”

  Ashton kissed me. I relaxed. He swirled his finger into my honey. He inserted the tip of his finger into my wanting then retreated. He did it again, never going deep. He would dip, swirl … retreat. Dip, swirl … retreat. He kept up the slow pattern, setting me to blaze. My womanhood throbbed. Even when Reid took me with his mouth my private parts did not pulsate like this. I focused on this vibration, the deep ache, the wildness he stirred, the hunger Ashton made me feel. But I felt more than pleasure. More than need or desire or hunger. I might love him, but I couldn’t love him. I closed my eyes.

  Ashton shifted, allowing his hard cock to ride my hip through his boxers. He supped at my breasts, and played with my womanhood. His fingers fondled and explored my sex. He circled my clit, applying gentle pressure, then more pressure. He tweaked it between his fingers. My body shook. He placed his mouth to mine. Kissed hard. His fingers circled my bud again and again. He gently pulled it. Circled. Rubbed. Worked it harder with a tap, flick, circular motion until my body had no choice but to give way to his touch.

  Ashton absorbed my gasp. I wanted to call out his name in pleasure. My hips pushed forward. Placing my throbbing sex into his expert fingers, I clenched. Shuddered. I was coming. Ashton pinned my body with his. My feminine muscles undulated against his fingers. He moved back from my body a bit, placed his fingers up to his lips, inserted my taste into his mouth, and smiled the smile of a man well pleased. I wanted to ask him why he wanted to taste me, but I would not get the chance, not tonight anyway.

  Ashton leaned into my ear. “The next time you come for me, it shall be upon my tongue so I may drink in your sweet nectar, my dove.” I quivered, imagining the next time. “It is late. Go to sleep,” he said, sweeping his hand over my curls, “go to sleep, my sweet and gentle beauty. Dream of happy things.”

  ****

  I felt cold. Alone and desperate, I ran through the gray. Yelled out. Calling my father’s name. I’d lost him. There were black shadows looming in around me, ready to take me…

  “NO!” I screamed, “Stop!” I kicked and flailed. I sat up in the bed. It was daylight. For a brief moment I was confused, unsure of where I actually was.

  Ashton and Alec busted in my bedroom door.

  “Trinity! What is it?” Ashton said, coming to my side, wrenching my body into his. “What is wrong? Why are you crying?”

  “My beauty. What is wrong?” Alec said, standing at the side of the bed.

  “I have nightmares,” I admitted. “I have had them ever since that day…” My fingers dug into the material of Ashton’s crisp blue dress shirt.

  Ashton glanced over at Alec. “Will you give us a moment?”

  Alec shook his head in agreement. “Trinity, I will be back.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled. I pressed my face into Ashton’s chest.

  Ashton combed his fingers through my hair. He rocked me within his arms, soothing me.

  “Shh…” he murmured, “you are safe. It was only a dream. You are in my arms, my dove. I shall never allow any harm to befall you.”

  My fingertips slid between the buttons on his shirt. I experienced the warmth of his skin.

  “Don’t go. Please, Ashton. I will miss you.”

  Ashton kissed my forehead. “My dove, I must go in order to secure your safety; however, I shall think of you every day until my return. Think upon our time apart as an interlude.”

  “Will you call me while you are gone?”

  “Is this your wish, my lady?”

  “Yes. It is my wish,” I answered.

  “Then it shall be done.”

  ****

  When Alec and I entered in through the doors of the chateau, everyone was there to greet us. It was like the first day of my arrival, only this time instead of joy and curiosity there was worry as well as sadness upon their faces.

  “What happened?” Jacqueline asked, taking ahold of my hand.

  “Gavin showed up,” Alec answered flatly.

  A swirl of murmurs and possible curses sprung out among my sisters.

  “Let us go into the parlor,” Jacqueline announced. Everyone walked down the corridor, streaming into the parlor, reminiscent of a funeral procession.

  Everyone took a seat. Jacqueline made sure I sat beside her. “Tell us, Alec.”

  “Maybe we should have Trinity start, since I came in on the end of things,” Alec said, calmly.

  Every eye rested upon me. It was as quiet as a tomb.

  “I was in the parlor with Lord Archer when we heard a horrible commotion. Yelling, and things breaking. Gavin stormed into the parlor.” I paused for a moment, feeling the need to edit my story a bit. I had no intention of telling them what we had been doing in the parlor just minutes before Gavin’s arrival. “Gavin was dirty. Like it had been a while since he’d showered. He was completely disheveled, and I think he was high on something. He was acting crazed. He kept taunting Lord Archer about me. When Gavin started to threaten me, Lord Archer told him to leave, and assured Gavin he would never touch me. He told Gavin if he dared try, Lord Archer would kill Gavin with his own bare hands.”

  Jacqueline smiled. “He told Gavin he would kill him?”

  “Yes, and he meant it. I asked Lord Archer if he would have really harmed his brother, and he assured me he would have.”

  “Good,” Jacqueline said.

  “Then Alec came in and settled Gavin down.”

  Alec gave an evil grin. “Yes, it is amazing what a sharp blade to the throat can do to settle a beast.”

  Jacqueline asked, “Where is Gavin?”

  “Lord Archer had the authorities place him into his usual holding cell last night. This morning Lord Archer is on his way to collect his brother and escort him back to England,” Alec replied.

  “He will come back, he always comes back,” Amelia interjected with a sense of foreboding.

  Alec said, “Lord Archer is going to have him committed again.”

  Jacqueline touched my cheek. “You will be safe. Even if Gavin comes back, he would never dare set foot upon my property.”

  “Why? What would stop him?” I asked.

  “He has a fear of death,” said Alec in a cold voice, “and he knows his death will come swiftly if he enters this home.”

  “Come,” Amelia said, “we have a party tonight. We must prepare.”

  “I’m not sure I am ready for another party,” I replied.

  “No? John Paul is coming. So your Reid will come too,” Jacqueline said.

  Reid. I hadn’t thought of him much while I was with Lord Archer. This was strange, because Reid was never far from my every thought. He was all I thought about for the last two years of my life, but I had other thoughts upon my mind, which included my dear Lord Archer.

  “Why so quiet, my petit? Do you not wish to see Reid?”


  “Jacqueline, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

  “What if I told you I have an idea how you can see Reid, and he can see you without really seeing you? I assure you, Reid will burn to touch you before the night is over.”

  “How?”

  “Go with Amelia. I will come up in just a moment, my petit,” Jacqueline said. “Everything will be just as you wish.” Jacqueline looked at Amelia. “Put our beauty into the golden dress I bought for her.”

  Amelia nodded.

  Once again I was being pampered and fussed over by my sisters, preparing for another party. When I stepped in front of the mirror I was slathered in gold. My hair held golden jewels; my body glittered in golden flecks, and my eyes were highlighted in gold with glittering body jewelry upon my face as a mask. My lips were golden, my neck lined with gold jewels, and upon my body I wore a long translucent golden dress, which in the right light showed every curve of my bare body beneath.

  “Perfect!” Jacqueline trilled as she approached. “Now come with me, my petit.” I followed Jacqueline. We came to a stop at a door on the third floor. “Do not worry.” She opened the door.

  This room was completely empty with only a long settee in the color of gold that sat in front of a raging fire. The mantel upon the fireplace was gilded in gold. On the floor, sitting by the settee, was a gold chalice.

  I stared at Jacqueline, confused.

  “I am commissioning a special painting from John Paul. He shall paint you. Reid will become curious as to where John Paul is, and he will find him with you. You shall not speak. You will lie upon the settee as a vision, allowing John Paul to paint you, and allowing Reid to see you.”

  Jacqueline had me take a seat upon the golden settee, positioning me so the firelight would glimmer off my body. I lay back, wrists crossed over my head, breasts pushed up and out, back arched, hip cocked, legs spread only a little. Jacqueline positioned the golden dress into tempting, revealing, eye catching folds. I glanced down, and noticed the tips of my nipples as they poked through the material in an arousing form. Around my neck a long golden necklace dangled between my breasts, tickling my flesh.

  Jacqueline stood back for a moment, admiring her work before she stepped forward and placed my arm to dangle off the settee, fingers curling around the stem of the golden cup.

  “Perfect,” Jacqueline said. “You are beautiful. A true goddess, my petit.”

  “How long do you want me to stay this way?”

  “Here.” Jacqueline put some pillows under my shoulder blade for support. “Better?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I will be back with John Paul. Remember, do not speak.”

  “Okay.”

  I glanced up. The ceiling was a mirror. I saw myself, and studied the lines of my body, seeing what John Paul and Reid would see. Reid would like this position. It was close to the position he placed me in that night beneath the moon. I closed my eyes, remembering that night.

  I heard Jacqueline. “John Paul,” she said, opening the door to the room, “here is my surprise.”

  John Paul was speaking rapidly in French.

  Jacqueline laughed. “No, my dearest. I am not giving her to you in that way. I wish for you to paint her for me.”

  “But I did not bring my brushes,” John Paul said in his thick French accent.

  “Do not worry. You will sketch. You will remember. And you will paint her when you have your supplies,” Jacqueline said. “I will be back with what you need to sketch my petit, and you will restrain yourself. Do we understand each other?”

  “Of course, my lovely Jacqueline.”

  I opened my eyes when the door to the room shut. John Paul was making appreciative sounds as he approached me. He stopped at the front of the settee. He stood, looking down at me, not quite lasciviously.

  “Oui,” he said, “oui, oui, oui … you are truly a vision in gold. I shall be honored to paint you for Jacqueline.”

  I smiled.

  “You have nothing to say?”

  I shook my head.

  “Pity, but I will drink in your beauty with my eyes, and spill the words of it from my lips and from my hands as I sketch you.”

  “John Paul, where the hell are you?”

  Reid.

  “I am in here!” John Paul called out.

  The door opened.

  “Fuck,” Reid muttered, “what the hell is going on, John Paul?”

  “Jacqueline wishes me to paint her.” John Paul smiled a crooked smile. “She is a feast for the eyes.”

  Reid circled the settee, gazing down. I watched the tilt of his head then his expression changed to one of hunger, deep hunger. His eyes blazed in the firelight.

  “Holy hell,” he said, “you are gorgeous.”

  “She is the vision in white, only tonight she has transformed into a golden goddess,” John Paul said.

  Reid reached out as if he were going to touch my face when Jacqueline came in. “Ah … no Reid. This vision is to only be admired by your eyes. There is no touching.” Jacqueline handed over the sketchpad, a satchel of sketching pencils, and a smile to John Paul. “I will be back with some wine, some snacks, some music, and a couple of chairs.” She looked at Reid. “I am assuming you wish to stay and watch your friend work?”

  “Hell yes,” Reid said, mincing no words.

  “Reid,” Jacqueline called. Reid turned his head toward her, hesitantly. “I am expecting restraint and respect. My petit is to be undisturbed from her pose, and undefiled.”

  “Sure, Jacqueline,” Reid replied.

  “Then we all understand each other, oui?”

  “Yes,” Reid said.

  John Paul followed not quite in unison, “Oui.”

  When Jacqueline left, Reid turned back to gaze at me.

  “Reid. Move from my light, I need to see,” John Paul instructed.

  I had two men circling me like predatory birds. They circled and circled, gazing at me from every direction. Reid stopped at my feet.

  Jacqueline arrived with Lilli Anna. They placed two chairs into the space, some wine, crackers, fruit, and cheese. Music wafted through the room.

  “I will be back,” Jacqueline assured.

  “Sure,” Reid said.

  John Paul began to sketch. He tore off the paper, threw it to the floor, and began to sketch again. He sketched then moved to a different angle, continuing to draw before the ripping sound of paper filled in the echo of the room. This became like a melody, mixing into the lulling beat of the music. The sound of his breathing. The shuffle of his feet upon the hardwood floor. The low growling murmur of his voice in evident appreciation. The scratching of the lead against paper. The split of the paper from the pad. The drifting of the newly formed sketch through the air. The shudder of parchment sliding across the floor as it landed.

  John Paul did this over and over, frantically sketching, tearing off the paper and letting it float to the floor. I caught the reflection of the papers on the floor. He was sketching a piece of my body at a time. Each sketch held something different, my hip, my calf, my foot, my hand, my fingers, the ring, an arm…

  Reid moved to the head of the settee. He lingered there.

  “Will you speak to me?” Reid said, moving back around to my side.

  I shook my head.

  “She will not speak,” John Paul said.

  Reid knelt down upon his knees. He placed his nose to the exposed skin of my neck.

  John Paul spat, “We are not to touch her, Reid.”

  “I am not going to touch her,” Reid assured then moved his lips within a scant breath of my flesh.

  I held my pose and my expression still. Reid breathed me in, smelling my skin from the hollow of my ear to my exposed throat. He moved back in slow motion. Goose bumps shimmied across my flesh.

  Cheese and crackers, my body was going to give me away.

  “Trinity?” he asked.

  I did not move. I did not blink. I held my pose as though he had never spoke
n. He looked into my eyes.

  “Reid, move out of my light!” John Paul snapped.

  Reid shook his head then stood. “I need to get out of here,” he announced, bounding past John Paul, finally finding his escape out the door.

  John Paul continued to sketch, murmuring words in French that I did not understand, and then he was done. He threw down the sketchpad in a flourish, and walked over to the table where he guzzled a glass of wine. He looked spent. He hammered down the glass upon the table, wiped his wine stained mouth upon the sleeve of his shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, and scrubbed. As if Jacqueline knew he was done, she glided into the room, her long red frock fanning out behind her.

  “Do you have everything you need to complete the painting?” she asked.

  “I believe so,” John Paul replied.

  “My petit, you may leave,” she said.

  I sat up, feeling the blood rush back through my body. When I tried to move, I realized how long I’d actually been in that awkward pose. My muscles wanted to protest, but I stood to my feet, nodded my head to John Paul then to Jacqueline before taking my leave from the room.

  Once the door closed, I inhaled a large cleansing breath. I rolled my neck across the span of my shoulders, trying to work out a kink that had formed.

  I walked to the staircase, rubbing at the back of my neck. I made my way down to the second floor. I stopped for a moment to stretch before reaching out to the door of my room. Strong hands wrapped around the tops of my arms, pulling my body back into a muscular chest.

  “Why do you haunt me?” he whispered against my ear.

  Goose bumps traversed my skin. My body, my reactions would give me away. I must find a way not to react to Reid.

  “Please, speak to me,” Reid urged, “I need to hear your voice for my own sanity.”

  I turned the doorknob, took Reid by the hand, and led him into my room. I turned off the lights, leaving us in dimness. The fire was low, no longer raging, but I would need to be careful. If I moved him to the settee by the dressing area there would be very little light, and he would not be able to fully see me. With his hand in mine, I took Reid to the settee. I pressed upon his chest, urging him to sit. I placed my fingertip to his lips, indicating not to speak. Reid sat. I unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time.