The Good Sister: Part One

by London Saint James

  “Does this make you happy, my dove?” Ashton asked.

  “Yes, Ashton. There are no words,” I said. A tear ran down my cheek.

  He leaned down, and with a gentle kiss to my cheek he tasted the salt of my tears. “Yes,” he agreed, “there are none.”

  “Ashton, do you hear that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is the music coming from?”

  “I am unsure, my dove.”

  Floating on the night air the soft tranquil sound of piano music came to us.

  “Magic,” I said in a whisper.

  “It sounds like Debussy… Yes, it’s Clare De Lune,” Ashton confirmed. “Would you like to dance?”

  I bowed my head. “Yes, my lord.” Gave Ashton my hand.

  We slow danced to the ghostly sound beneath the lamp light with the pyramid glimmering in the background. When the song ended, fading into the night as though it never existed, Ashton kissed me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Paris.

  Around midnight Ashton instructed his driver to take us home to his apartment. When we arrived, I looked around the space. It was a modern apartment with modern furnishings. The space was eye catching with sleek lines, a grouping of glass tables, glass fixtures, metal accents along with some contemporary paintings. The apartment was nothing like the chateau. In fact, it was a contrast in opposites.

  “Do you spend much time here?” I asked, tracing my hand over a glass sculpture perched in the corner of the room.

  “No,” Ashton said, “I would like to spend more time here, but sadly I seem to neglect my apartment.”

  “So you like staying at the chateau better?”

  “I would not say I prefer one to the other, but my stables, as well my horses are at the chateau so I spend a great deal of my time there or at home in England.”

  “But you travel a lot too, right?”

  “I do travel, mostly on business for my father or in search of better breading stock,” Ashton answered, coming to place a kiss on my cheek. “It is late, my dove. You should get some sleep. Allow me to show you to your quarters.”

  “I’m not staying with you?” I asked.

  “I thought you would want your privacy, as well your own bed.”

  “I want to stay with you. I would sleep better.”

  “Are you frightened?” he asked.

  “It takes me a while to feel at home, to feel safe, but if I am with you I’ll be fine.”

  “Is this your wish, my dove? To stay with me?”

  I nodded.

  “Very well,” he said, taking my hand and leading me into his bedroom.

  There were large glass doors that lead out onto a balcony. To my right there was a huge bed covered in pillows. The room had light honey toned wood floors, adorned with shaggy area rugs the color of snow. Everything in this room was modern design, decorated with glass, metal, and more artwork, only abstract in origin.

  I stood at the glass doors, looking out onto the city. Lights blazed like stars in the clear night sky. Ashton brushed back my hair then softly he placed his mouth to the hollow beneath my ear. My skin danced with goose bumps. He ran his tongue over the fresh chill upon my skin.

  “If you desire a bath,” he said, “you will find what you need through those glass doors.” He pointed.

  “I need my bag,” I said, turning to see his handsome face.

  “There,” he said. He pointed to it, setting on a metal bench.

  “My bag is in your room?”

  “Yes,” Ashton said, smiling. This smile was definitely leaning toward his wicked side.

  “So when you said you would show me to my room—”

  “I hoped you would stay with me, but I dared not presume.”

  “However, you moved the bags from the door and brought my bags in here.”

  “Yes.”

  “I see,” I said, going over to my bag, grabbing a few items then heading for the glass doors that concealed Ashton’s bathroom.

  “Are you quite upset with me, my dove?”

  “Quite.” I headed for the glass doors.

  I took my time with the bath, luxuriating, and when I exited the bathroom to the sound of music playing, I glanced around the room. The sleek gas fireplace contained a burning fire. Ashton stood like a tribute to the gods by the balcony doors, drinking wine from a clear glass goblet. He was beyond sexy, wearing gray cotton pajama bottoms, without a shirt. I studied his body.

  Ashton turned. My nipples peeked through the ribbed material of my cut off tank top. He stared at me with those piercing iced white eyes. And in this light, they were pure ice, pure white, and perhaps, pure sin.

  Ashton placed his glass of wine upon the mantle. “Very nice knickers.”

  I glanced down. I was wearing cotton boy shorts. “It’s late. I thought we were going to sleep?”

  “Is that your wish, Trinity?”

  “No,” I said, walking over to pick up his glass of wine, taking a sip. I set the glass down. He ran the pad of his thumb over the swell of my lips. I opened my mouth and sucked the tip of his thumb. His eyes flashed.

  “What are you thinking, my dove?”

  “I am still trying to decide if you are an angel or a devil.”

  “And what have you decided?”

  “I think you are a devil in every place a woman needs a devil, and an angel in every place else.”

  “Ah…” he murmured. “And where does a woman need a devil?”

  I skimmed my hands over my body, following the curves. “Here,” I said.

  Ashton grinned.

  “And where does a woman need an angel?”

  I picked up Ashton’s hand and placed it against my thumping heart. “Here.”

  “And you wish to experience both?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we are in agreement, since I wish to give you both.”

  “Ashton, will you be honest with me?”

  “Always, my dove.”

  I needed to hear what he would say, how he would say it, how he felt. I doubted it would be anything close to how Reid explained his thoughts.

  “When you look at me.” I turned around in a slow circle, allowing him to see all of my body. “What are you thinking about?”

  “I am thinking I am blessed. I am thinking you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I am thinking I would like to worship you, touch you, hold you, put my mouth upon you, give your body great pleasure.”

  My heart leapt at his answer.

  “And what is your wish right now?” I asked.

  “If I tell you, shall you grant it?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I wish to give you pleasure,” he said.

  “How?”

  “Do you trust me?” he asked, brushing back my hair and strumming the tip of his fingers along my jaw line.

  “Yes.”

  “Then do you grant me my wish, my dove?”

  His other hand outlined my bare midriff, skimming just beneath the line of the material of my tank top. I closed my eyes, feeling his touch, feeling how he made my want … him.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Then we shall begin,” he said in a low hungry voice. The sound sent a quiver through my sex.

  Ashton walked over to a side table, where he picked up a piece of white silk, perhaps a tie. He twined it over his hands, and focused his intense gaze upon me as he came back. He brushed the silk against my cheek, allowing me to feel the smooth softness sweep across my skin. I shivered with the feeling of the smooth, cool, material mixed in with the warmth of his hand.

  “Ashton…”

  Ashton circled me in lithe movements. “Shh…” he soothed as he ran his finger through one of my curls. “I wish you to experience your body without sight,” he said. He placed the silk around my eyes, tying it gently.

  I was blindfolded, being lead forward into the unknown in more ways than one. My body trembled with anticipatory shivers. I entered where Lord Archer took me. Ther
e was something soft beneath my feet, a rug. The sound of music was still playing, and the light that I was able to discern changed. It was a little dimmer.

  Something moved across my shoulder blades. Ashton’s hand. Warmth crossed over the side of my neck. His breath. There was tugging at my tank top from the bottom. The sound of something moving against the material. Scissors, I concluded. He cut the cotton tank top from my body, making the slash up the back. I experienced the coolness of the steel intermittently tap my skin. The sound of the scissors being placed upon the glass table. The freeing of my shirt as Ashton’s hand ran up the length of my spine, sliding the material off my body. It fell down the front of my body and arms, and hit my feet in a wisp of air as it settled.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  “Yes, Ashton.”

  He kissed the crook of my shoulder then lifted my hair up, exposing the back of my neck. His mouth slid to the nape of my neck where he kissed.

  “You have an exquisite neck, Trinity,” he said. He placed something into my hair, keeping most of my curls off my neck, and exposing my shoulders. I shivered as his breath hit the side of my cheek. “Allow your body to feel each sensation,” he murmured. The vibration of his voice echoed off my skin in an indescribable feeling. Ashton took the tip of his tongue and flicked my right earlobe. I twitched. “Stand still, my dove.” Ashton tongued my earlobe.

  In a move of pure need, I tilted my neck, giving Ashton full access. Ashton kissed my neck. I shivered.

  Ashton’s kiss slid to my shoulder blade. His hand swiped down my arms, then nothing more. I turned my head. Listening. From nowhere, I exploded with sensation. His tongue flicked my nipple. My body bucked forward in shock. My nipple surged.

  “I will taste every precious part of you,” Ashton said.

  I released a breathy gasp, “God…”

  Ashton took the tip of my nipple between his teeth, before releasing it. He drew erotic circles over the pert bud, outlining it with something wet. Something trickled down my breast, and along my stomach. His warm mouth sucked the tip of my right breast before licking the line of wetness that wound down my body. It tickled. He skimmed his nose up my ribcage. My skin chilled. He sucked my left nipple, pulling it a bit harder between his teeth, extending the flesh. I moaned, and arched forward. He stopped.

  “Do you like that, my dove?”

  My voice quivered. “Yes.”

  “Your breasts are perfection,” he said. He kissed my lips then outlined my lips with his fingertips. “Taste,” he said. I did. I licked my lips, tasting…

  “The wine,” I mumbled.

  “Yes,” he said. He placed more wine upon my lips then licked the taste away with his tongue. It had to be the wine he was placing onto my nipples.

  He painted my neck with his fingertip. The liquid flowed, marking my skin before his lips removed it from my flesh.

  I felt his warm mouth at the base of my throat, moving to the line of my collarbone, skimming up, around my shoulder, and finally resting at the back of my neck again. My body quaked from the inside out. Ashton’s large hands held my shoulders, shimmied down both of my arms. He intertwined his fingers through my fingers then picked up my right hand. Being blindfolded heightened each touch, each movement, each sound. I heard Ashton move before I felt it.

  “You have such beautiful delicate wrists,” he said. He kissed the inside of my wrist and traced up the line of my arm until reaching the bend of my arm.

  The feeling changed. It wasn’t his mouth or his nose. This was something else, but I was unsure. It was smooth, but not material. It rolled over my skin like it was round. The cool smooth rolling sensation of something unfamiliar meandered up my arm, over my shoulder blade, and down my spine before coming to a stop. I heard Ashton making noise. Eating, he was eating something. Again, I felt a cool smooth rounded sensation roll around my navel. My stomach muscles jerked in response. A strange sensation filled my navel.

  Ashton murmured his seduction against my belly. I felt his tongue circle my navel. “Each curve of your body calls to me,” he explained. Ashton’s lips sucked out the object from my bellybutton. Whatever it was, he ate it. Next it rolled upon my lips. “Open,” he said, so I parted my lips, allowing him to place it upon my tongue.

  “It’s a grape,” I said.

  “Yes.”

  Ashton picked me up. I let out a small gasp at the feeling. He cradled me against him. I felt him bend, and place me on something soft. Not a bed. Possibly the rug at the foot of the bed? The sensation felt like sheep skin or wool, and tickled my exposed back. A movement at my boy shorts. Ripping. Ashton tore my underwear from my body. My heart stutter-stepped. My breath caught. I was completely naked, lying on what I thought was the white shag rug at the foot of Ashton’s bed. Ashton surrounded my ankle, shackled it within his hand.

  I let out a squeak at the next sensation. He sucked my pinky toe. He worked his tongue around it slowly before he moved my toe into his mouth, sucking like I imagined he would suck on my clit. My body jerked, my pussy flared and creamed at this sensation.

  I might love this man.

  “You are perfection, my dove,” he said, kissing the top of my foot, the inner arch of my foot then moving back to another toe with his mouth.

  Ashton worked each toe with his mouth, driving lightning bolts through me. He was more than a devil. He was a warlock. I felt him let loose of my foot then pick it back up again, massaging. He added something to his hands. The sensation was slick. I smelt, jasmine.

  “Jasmine lotion,” I said.

  “Correct.”

  Ashton worked the fine smelling lotion into my feet, up my calves, massaging.

  A tickle.

  “Turn over,” Ashton instructed. I flipped over onto my stomach, feeling the soft rug beneath my body. A tickle began upon the arch of my foot. I giggled and squirmed. “You must allow the experience, Trinity. Allow your body to feel.”

  I settled. The tickle maneuvered up the back of my calves, lingering in the soft spot behind my knee. Something brushed, twirled, and swept across my skin. Another brush across my skin, I felt the tickle outline my bum.

  “Beautiful,” he muttered. “Simply, beautiful.”

  The tickle delighted in the seam of my ass, over the right cheek then the left, and swirled around at the small of my back. I arched up, pressing into the tickle. The tickle danced, twirling up my spine, between my shoulder blades then came to rest at the base of my neck before moving back down, tickling between my legs.

  “What is the sensation you are feeling?” Ashton asked.

  “Soft whisper-like tickles,” I answered.

  “What is touching your flawless skin?”

  “I don’t know.” Something brushed over my nose. I giggled. I rubbed at my nose. “A feather,” I said.

  “Yes, my dove.”

  It was quiet for a minute, except for the sound of the music along with the hum of the fire. A breeze of movement first, followed by Ashton’s lips on the side of my cheek. He took a bite of something then, swallowing.

  “Give me your mouth,” he said in a soft whisper.

  I turned my head. His magnificent lips pressed to mine. His tongue probed … strawberry. I felt his mouth move, followed by a rough yet soft sensation upon my lips. I could smell the fruit.

  “Strawberry,” I said, taking a bite.

  “Very good, my dove,” Ashton replied, swiping his hands over my back, down to the small of my back then over my backside. Warm hands massaged my back. “Your skin is like fine silk,” he said. He kissed each dimple at the small of my back before he placed his tongue to me, and licked down the seam of my ass. I squealed. He murmured low sounds of pleasure. Ashton skimmed his mouth across my right globe. “You have a gorgeous bum,” he whispered as his tongue tasted my seam. “Simply, gorgeous.” He plundered my pink pucker. I clenched, he squeezed my cheeks, parted them. “Untouched sweetness.”

  “Ashton, I…”

  “Shh … turn over,” he i
nstructed. I turned over, once again upon my back.

  His mouth moved up my inner thigh. I shook. Ashton’s tongue swirled over my left knee. He placed a soft kiss there before moving up my thighs. Hands moved to my hips. His mouth moved up, up, up…. Almost, but not quite coming to my wanting.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked. His breath tickled my navel.

  “Yes.” I felt like I would explode into a million glittering pieces, floating, dispersing into the ether.

  “Spread your beautiful legs, Trinity. Allow me look at your sweetness.”

  I felt him move from my body.

  “Is this your wish, Ashton?”

  “Yes. It is my wish.” His voice sounded hungry.

  I parted my legs, spreading for him. Once spread, I knew he saw every hidden piece of my body. The thought of his beautiful ice white eyes, gazing at me, sent a shiver through me.

  “There are no words within existence to tell you how gorgeous you are, Trinity.”

  “Are you looking at me?” I asked. I covered my face with my hands.

  “I could never look away,” he assured. “And yes, I am looking at you.” Ashton moved my hands above my head, away from my face.

  “And you like me? What I look like?”

  “Yes,” Ashton answered in a gruff rasp.

  Fingers traced my velvet folds. He moved slowly over every inch. I moaned. I felt something else, something smooth, glide over my lower lips, and outline where his fingers left off.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “Wait,” Ashton replied. “All good things come to those who wait.”

  Something smooth glided around my clit; circling and circling, then dipping into my opening before being removed. I jumped. Ashton groaned. He kissed my mouth, deeply. I tasted chocolate and something else.

  “Do you like how you taste?” he asked. “Your nectar is sweeter than chocolate.”

  He’d placed the chocolate to my secret place, and ate the chocolate.

  “You tasted me?”