“Perhaps you’re right.” He wiped away a quite genuine bead of sweat that rolled down his temple. “Would you assist me?”
Her breath caught and she hesitated for just a second before she nodded and reached for the lacings at the side. Once she’d released them, he pulled the tunic over his head and laid it aside. Fortunately his shirt was long enough and loose enough to effectively cover the bulge of his engorged cock, which strained at the tight fabric of his breeches.
They did a Sir Andrew McKinley, another line dance that involved imaginary fellow dancers. They ducked under the arms of invisible partners and whirled around empty air. When they came together, they fitted their bodies much closer than would be considered proper. Throughout the dance, her gaze rarely moved from his, save to roam down his body and up again. In fact, she all but devoured him with her eyes.
As they finished the last twirl and flourish, she leaned against him, her hand pressed to his chest. “My lord,” she said, “I do believe you are still quite warm. Perhaps you should remove this as well.” She fingered his shirt.
He stopped her hand, by pressing his own over it. “Princess Fanny, we venture into dangerous territory here. Perhaps you don’t understand the peril, but I am a man, and I have only so much control. It’s stretched already quite thin.”
She drew a deep breath. “Nay, my lord, I understand the danger, though I have not the depth of knowledge I would wish. But consider: I’m to be married before long, yet I have no mother to teach me about the ways of men and women. My sister will not do so. You’re my tutor, hired to school me in the ways of a lady. Is this not one of the duties of a lady? To know how to please her lord?”
He had no immediate answer for her. His instincts said this course was fraught with danger, though the main peril might be to his own heart, which was becoming far too wrapped around the princess. But she was right in having no one else to school her in those things, things a husband might expect her to know.
He sighed. “You’re sure of this?”
“I think so,” she answered.
He gathered the bottom of the shirt and pulled it over his head. She stared in fascination at his chest, then looked down and let her gaze rest on the bulge his cock made. She drew a sharp breath but didn’t say anything.
He led her into the steps of a Clevian Gavotte, a dance that brought partners together more often and more closely. Each time she stepped forward and they were face to face, he drew her against his body, letting her breasts crush into his chest, while the bulge of his cock pressed against her abdomen.
Whenever she could, she put a hand on his chest, feeling the muscles there, or stroking the skin. A couple of times he had to grit his teeth when her touches aroused him so fiercely he feared he’d explode. He wanted more of her. Much more.
Without breaking stride, in the midst of the dance, he said, “My love, I fear you are much too warm as well. Remove your shift.”
A look of panic flashed across her face and she stumbled. He caught and righted her.
“You needn’t do this, if you don’t wish it,” he said.
“Nay, my lord, I wish. I’m just somewhat…nervous.” She backed up a step and drew the shift up and over her head. While she took a moment to remove her slippers and stockings, he kicked off his boots.
When he looked back at her, his knees went wobbly and he could barely stand. She was even more beautiful than he could have imagined. It wasn’t the round, full-figured beauty much in favor at that time, but a graceful, slender loveliness. Her breasts weren’t large, but just plump enough to make a nice handful. His palms itched for the feel of them. Her hips had a nice, gentle curve and topped long, slender legs.
He extended a hand. “Shall we dance some more?” he asked. She nodded and put her palm on his. He couldn’t take his eyes from her. Her legs moved in lovely lines and her breasts bobbed lightly as they hopped and swirled. The pressure in his groin made movement almost painful.
Each time the dance brought her close to him, he pulled her against his chest and kissed her deeply. She moaned and ran her fingers into his hair, holding his mouth to her own. He slid his hands down along her back and hips to cup her buttocks and press them against his groin.
“You’re killing me,” he murmured against her mouth. “I want you so badly it hurts.”
“Teach me,” she answered. Her fingers hooked in the top of his breeches, the only piece of clothing remaining on him. She tugged the fabric down, letting his cock spring free.
Her eyes widened as she stared at it. “It’s so big! Surely not all men are of such a size. How do you conceal this beneath your breeches?”
“It grows bigger when a man is in the presence of a woman who attracts him.” He stepped out of the breeches.
Once they were off, he led her through the door into her quarters. He was grateful for the private, connecting door. He didn’t favor traipsing through the halls naked.
He lifted Fanny onto her bed and leaned down to kiss her. He let his lips rove from her face down to her breasts. He licked and sucked, relishing the soft firmness of the flesh, pulling the tips into his mouth, caressing her until she was moaning and growing tense. She tasted as sweet as anything he’d ever had on his tongue. He nudged her thighs apart and ran his hands up and down the tender skin of the insides, working upward.
When he slid a finger along her slit, she jumped and squealed. She was already damp and slick there. He parted the petals of her quim and stroked the folds within. Fanny moaned and began to pant as she grew stiffer. “My lord,” she groaned. “What are you doing to me?”
“Preparing you,” he said. “Do you not like it?”
“Yes, but—oh,” she said, on a long moaning sigh.
“Relax into it.” He found the pearl, the center of her woman’s pleasure, and began to stroke it. Her face screwed up into a tense frown of unbearable pleasure, while her entire body grew stiff and tenser as he continued. With his other hand, he inserted a finger into the opening to her womb and felt around until he encountered the barrier of her virginity. He probed no farther, but stroked the inside of her womb, while with his other hand, he petted her quim harder. She squealed and squirmed until finally she shrieked and her body convulsed around the finger he had inside her in the spasms of release.
He gentled his stroking while the waves of release continued to roll over her.
When she’d finally calmed, she looked at him and said, “You have a most amazing way of preparing a lady.” She reached for his face and pulled her to him for a kiss. He stretched out alongside her on the bed and cuddled her in his arms.
“Not all men know this secret to readying a lady for his entry, but if your future husband does not, you must tell him about it.”
He didn’t want to think about her with another man. He tightened his hold on her as though he could keep her in his arms forever. But that wasn’t to be. Rather than dwell on uncomfortable thoughts, he moved to kneel between her legs. “I believe it is generally uncomfortable for a lady her first time. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but you must tell me if you can’t bear it.”
“I trust to your gentleness, my lord,” she said. Her brown eyes were soft, her expression quietly tender as she watched him.
He pressed his cock into the folds of her cleft, seeking for the entrance. Finding it, he began to slide into her, watching her face. The barrier of her maidenhead stopped him. So far she seemed to be tolerating his bulk, but there was no easy, gentle way to do this. He withdrew, then plunged hard into her, pushing through the barrier. She cried out, and he stilled, waiting for her to adjust to the intrusion. It was agony to control himself and be quiet within her when his cock screamed for action. Nonetheless, he owed it to her and made the effort.
He brushed a hand through her hair. “The worst of it is over now,” he promised. After a minute or two, she began to relax. Keeping his motions gentle, he started to slide in and out, carefully, watching to be sure he didn’t cause her unbearable discomfort. He
couldn’t control himself much longer.
She picked up his rhythm and began to move with him. Gentleness gave way to a harder, fiercer pounding. She didn’t seem to mind and tried to keep pace with him. It quickly drove him over the edge and he spilled his seed into her.
Afterward they lay together quietly for a while. She pressed against him and he held her to him. Another wave of possessiveness rolled over him. The thought of another man doing this to her roused a violent revulsion. He wanted to keep her with him always.
When a soft snore indicated she’d fallen asleep, he got out of the bed and went to collect the clothes they’d left scattered. Realizing he wasn’t ready to sleep as yet, he returned to his quarters, found his sword, and took it back to the large room where he’d have space enough to practice a few moves. He had no idea how long he feinted, parried, ducked and whirled, but at last his body grew tired enough to overrule his restless mind. When he lay down, he fell asleep quickly.
Chapter 9
The next day, as he’d requested, Lady Syndal did a quite thorough job of filling Princess Fanny in on all the gossip she knew about everyone currently in residence, visiting at the castle, or expected to arrive for the wedding. Fanny listened avidly, questioned in some cases, and even once had the Lady draw a diagram illustrating the complex tangle of family relationships snarling one group.
In the afternoon, a seamstress and her young assistant came in to work on Fanny’s wardrobe. He wanted her to shine more brightly than the torches in the company of the court. She wasn’t as obviously beautiful as her sister, but her fiery spirit and innate grace could make her more attractive.
She wasn’t thrilled about standing and posing for the seamstress, but she submitted to it with resigned exasperation.
When he told her he wanted her to go down to dinner with her family that evening, a look of utter panic flashed across her face. “I don’t know how I can do it,” she said. “After the last time… I’ll be too embarrassed.”
“What is anyone likely to say?” he asked.
“Merry will be sure to comment on my past failures.”
“What do you think she’ll say?”
“I suppose she’ll say something like, ‘You’re back again! I hope you won’t embarrass us so this time.’”
“And how will you respond to that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, plaintively.
“Of course you do. Think about it in a different way. What would I say to her, did she say that to me?”
“Oh. You’d probably say something like, ‘I don’t think so. I’ve been studying to learn courtesy in all things. I’ve even learned that it’s not courteous to remind others of past mistakes.’”
“Very good! And why could you not say that to her?”
Her frown softened. “I suppose I could, did I think of it in time.”
He nodded. “You will. What other things might she say?”
“I suppose she might say, ‘You won’t ask any improper questions this time, will you?’”
“And I would answer—?”
“None more improper than the question you just asked,” she answered.
“Excellent. I knew you could do it.”
“But how will I think of them at the time?”
“How do you think of them now?”
“I know not. As you suggested, I think of what I would expect you to say were you in my place, and the answer seems to come to me.”
“Then that is what you will do at dinner tonight. When anyone makes a hurtful remark to you, you will stop and think what I would say, and you’ll know how to answer. And… I have something for you to help you remember to think of what I would say.”
She smiled with the eagerness of a small child promised a sweet. “What is it?”
“A moment and you’ll see, but I must go retrieve it. Wait here.”
He left and returned shortly with the pouch. It looked as though Princess Fanny hadn’t moved a muscle in his absence.
When he handed it to her, she held it for a moment, stroking the soft fabric bag as though savoring the possibilities. She loosened the string and upended the pouch, allowing the gold chain bracelet to slide into her palm.
Her eyes and mouth widened with surprise, then a slow, delighted smile replaced the shock. “It’s beautiful.” She lifted it and let the gold catch the light.
He shrugged. “I doubt it can match the glory of the jewels your father has provided to you. It’s not so very elaborate or heavy.”
“It’s the loveliest thing I’ve seen. I may have jewels that shine brighter, but none that mean so much. How long may I keep it?”
“It’s yours,” he said.
He wondered if anyone had ever given her a gift with no lecture accompanying it, a gift given in pure love. She seemed both shocked and overwhelmed by it. Tears started in her eyes and one slipped down her cheek. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” Her hand shook as she tried to fasten the catch to hold it on her left wrist.
He reached out and fastened the clasp for her. “I noticed you look down at your hands when you’re disturbed or trying to think. Whenever you see this, it will remind you to consider what I’d say in the circumstances.”
She sucked in a couple of hard breaths, trying to control the impulse to sob, then she flung herself against him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Thank goodness, Lady Syndal had declared after the noon meal that she had matters to attend to and excused herself for the rest of the day.
Baxter held Fanny close, kissing and fondling her. The tapes of her gown came free easily when he pulled. He reached down under her shift, found a ripe nipple, and began to caress it. She groaned and reached beneath his tunic and shirt for his breeches. His cock swelled and pressed against the fabric, begging to be freed.
Fanny’s breath came in hard gulps. “Please,” she begged, “Quickly.”
He pushed the fabric of her shift downward until one breast popped into view. He leaned down and tongued it, drew the nipple into his mouth, sucked on it, and closed his teeth around it, nipping gently. She squealed and clutched at his shoulders.
He put his hands around her waist and lifted her, sitting her on a table nearby. He pushed her shift and gown up so they bunched around her waist, leaving her slit open to him. While he slid his fingers over her quim and nibbled at her breast, she worked her hands under his clothes again and pushed down his breeches, freeing his straining cock.
“Lord, my lord, please! Now!”
He slid her forward as he pushed into her, impaling her on his shaft. She moaned as he entered and filled her. A momentary frown showed she still had some soreness, but the expression soon gave way to intense pleasure. Her breath panted as he pumped into her.
He felt her getting tighter and tighter. He reached around her thighs and caressed her pearl, above where his cock was joined to her. He tipped her back a little and probed at the nether hole. As his finger entered there, she screamed and climaxed in a huge, shuddering jolt. It pressed his cock so sweetly hard, his seed exploded from him in a rush that left him shaking as well.
They collapsed against each other as the aftershocks rolled through them. He stroked her hair while they struggled to get their breath back.
The warning bell for dinner sounded.
Baxter lifted her down and helped her straighten her clothes and put her hair back up. “We’d best be on our way down to dinner.”
Sudden panic showed on her face, driving away the flushed and sated look she’d worn moments before. “I’m not ready,” she whispered. “My sister will say something and I’ll be at a loss.”
“Nay. You won’t,” he assured her. “Keep in mind that by commenting she seeks to make herself look sophisticated and clever, at your expense. She believes she can goad you into acting badly. If you’ll remain calm and poised, you’ll look more graceful and wiser than she. It truly is that simple. And if you make it impossible for her to succeed in inducing you to poor behavior, she’ll have to ei
ther give it up or try harder, thus making herself look worse. So, if you cannot think of a good response, even by imagining what I might say, then simply keep silent and offer the calmest, most superior smile you can manage.”
She nodded and drew a deep breath. He offered an arm and together they went down to the great hall for dinner. “Head up,” he whispered to her as they approached. “You’re lovely and you’re ready. Look at the bracelet, then look at everyone else in the room.”
She glanced down at her wrist, then back up at him. Her smile hit him hard, right in the middle of his stomach. He realized with some dismay that this woman had gotten into his heart, and it was going to hurt like hell when he had to turn her over to the man her father would arrange for her to marry.
Chapter 10
Baxter escorted Princess Fanny to her seat at the head table, helping her into the chair on her father’s right. A very young man already occupied the seat to her right, with a stout older matron on the other side of him. Fanny’s arrival brought the older woman’s ongoing exposition to a momentary halt. The look on the young man’s face suggested any interruption was welcome, but the smile and blush that covered his face when Fanny turned to greet him indicated he found her more than just a diversion.
Lady Syndal passed by him as they made their way to their own seats. “I contrived to have her seated with two who will not challenge her unduly,” the lady told him in a low voice that only he could hear amidst the hum of conversation around them. “Master Thomas is so painfully shy, he’ll hang on every word she says and object to nary a one. But the princess won’t have a chance to speak much in any case, as Lady Garlind rarely stops talking long enough to allow anyone else to put in an ‘if’ or a ‘but.’”
He nodded. “Very good. And thank you.”
The dinner went just as the lady had predicted. Baxter was astonished that Lady Garlind consumed as much food as apparently she did, as every time he looked that way, she was expounding on one subject another to a bemused audience of Princess Fanny and Master Thomas. Nonetheless, he several times saw food deposited upon her plate, and when next he looked it was gone, so barring an invisible dog beneath the table, it made its way into her by some extraordinary means.
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