Good Manors

by Victoria Blisse

  It was all about teasing her, showing her who was boss without restraint or punishment, and I wasn’t going to rush. Darting my tongue down between her lips, I felt the bump of her clit then pulled back. She wriggled and gasped then lifted her hips to encourage me to do the same thing again. I didn’t.

  I ran my hands up the backs of her thighs and gently encouraged her to settle her legs over my shoulders. She was wide open to me and I peppered kisses along one of her lips, careful not to graze her clit but to keep to the plump, juicy lip until it tapered out, then I kissed up the opposite one.

  I continued this game until she arched her back and groaned with frustration. It was a test of my patience too. I wanted to properly eat her, bury my face and get lost in the scent and the taste of her, but it wasn’t about my satisfaction, it was about driving her wild with lust.

  I blew across her wetness.

  “Oh, please,” she groaned.

  “Please what?” I asked, then blew again, directing the breeze across her clit.

  “Please, Sir.”

  “What do you want?” I asked, lifting my head and looking along her body, taking in the tortured look on her face. She shook her head from side to side, battling with herself about voicing her desires.

  “Tell me, India, what do you want?”

  She opened her eyes and held my gaze for a few seconds. It was only when she closed them that she spoke.

  “Please make me come, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” I stroked her thigh as I praised her. “How shall I make you come?”

  “Any way you like, Sir.” She gasped and shuddered under my touch.

  “That’s a good answer, India, but how would you like me to make you come? What do you want me to use?”

  “Oh God, Sir.” She shook her head and scrunched up her eyes. “Your mouth, please, I want to come on your lips, your tongue. Please, Sir.”

  “That’s better.” I smiled and bent once again, giving her exactly what she wanted, exactly what I wanted. Her heat overwhelmed my senses, she burned my lips in the most erotic way, her intimate folds pulling against my mouth, rubbing, creating friction and yet more heat.

  I made sure to lap at her clit, teasing the soft, silky protrusion with gentle licks. With each lash of my tongue it hardened further. India strained against me, her flesh pressing against my ears. I could still hear her moans and gasps, though, and felt her muscles tensing, her buttocks lifting off the table to push more of her into my mouth.

  I pulled back from her clit and lapped at her slit. She tasted sublime—chocolate, fresh bread and apples. She was the tastiest, most satisfying meal. I wanted to eat her forever. India keened with frustration as I left her clit—well, I’d say high and dry but it wasn’t, she was soaked—and I continued to focus lower down. I teased her lips, her sweet entrance, and reveled in her frustrated gasps and the fevered pumping of her hips.

  Eventually I took pity, mostly because I wanted her orgasm, I craved it. Teasing her had been fun but I needed her pleasure. I returned my mouth to focus over her clit, sucking lightly and undulating my tongue over and around it. Her hips shot up and she ground her pussy against my face, pushing my nose into her flesh, surrounding me with her wet muskiness.

  She was loud, so loud that I could hear her chants through the soft flesh of her clinging thighs. I kept the same rhythm with my tongue, letting her climb and shudder. I knew she was so very close and to deny her would be catastrophic.

  She clamped around my head and she roared her completion, her wetness enveloping me. I clung on for dear life, lapping gently until she relaxed, her thighs dropping away, letting me up for air. I pulled away from the heat of her cunt and licked my lips. I was so hard I couldn’t think of anything else but fucking her.

  I fiddled with my fly, watching her all the time. Her eyes were still closed, her hands were thrown up beside her head and her chest was flushed red. She was replete and completely and utterly captivating.

  As soon as I’d freed my cock I pulled her onto me, filled her in one long, slow sweep. Her eyes flew open and she moaned again. Erotic realization flickered in her eyes, the shock followed by the invitation, the need for more. She moaned, gasped and tightened around me as I sought my own pleasure, driven and motivated by hers.

  I clung to her hips, driving into her time and time again. So turned on there was no hope of slowing down and pacing myself, I was desperate to come, and when my orgasm hit I couldn’t hold it back.

  I collapsed over her and she wrapped her arms around me, cuddling me to her chest. I was warm, worn out and content. Then I remembered she was leaving in the morning.

  Chapter Seventeen

  India Grace

  Well, the table hadn’t broken but I think I had. I held him close to my chest, we heaved in lungfuls of air in synchronization and I tried to piece myself together again. Every orgasm was destructive, clearing every thought from my mind, but the one I loosed on his lips lingered. I’d been close to coming from the moment my arms had given way in the bathroom. I’d experienced so much pleasure since then but hadn’t come. I’d been buzzing with the need for it even before he’d spent so much time and energy on teasing me, bringing me to the brink over and over again. When I’d finally come I’d thought I’d never stop.

  Why did he have to be so damn sexy? My job would have been so much easier if I hadn’t liked him. But I was distraught at the thought of leaving and never seeing Xander again. I blinked back tears and wrapped my arms around him tighter.

  “Told you it wouldn’t break,” he murmured into the side of my breast.

  “You called it,” I replied, trying hard not to show a trace of upset in my voice.

  “I think we should probably move.” Xander didn’t stir. “Someone could technically walk in.”

  “How does someone technically walk?” I asked with a smirk.

  “Technically,” he extended the word. “I don’t know but it could happen. We should move.”

  “Well, go on then,” I challenged. “I can’t go anywhere until you do.”

  “Okay.” He sighed. “Just let me work out where my legs are and I’ll get going.”

  I briefly wiggled my head, and finally he raised himself, pushing up on his arms that rested either side of me.

  “Come on, one last room to show you tonight.” He stood straight then grabbed my hand. He pulled me up and into his embrace. He gave me a quick kiss, stepped back and helped me until I was upright once more. I snatched up my top, skirt and shoes. He fastened his trousers, grabbed the candelabra and led me back into the secret passages, along to the staircase we’d used before and up to the first floor.

  “I wish my flat had a secret passage,” I mumbled, following him through the winding corridors. “Mind you, I’ve only got three rooms so maybe it’d be a bit redundant.”

  Xander laughed.

  “Well, you can come and borrow mine any time you like.”

  “Thanks, that’s quite possibly the weirdest offer I’ve ever had.”

  “I’m honored.” He turned to me and winked. “Okay, we’re here. This is one of my favorite entrances, come on.”

  He opened the door. Even after God knew how many years, the hinges were silent, and he waved me through. I nearly screamed when something brushed against my cheek but Xander was close behind with a light source and I saw that it was just a coat hanger.

  “Wardrobe?” I asked.

  “Wardrobe.” He nodded. “Great, huh? But look at this.”

  He squeezed past me and pulled back a slat to reveal a filigree panel.

  “What’s it for?”

  “Spying maybe, or checking who’s in the room before letting yourself out? Looks like we’ve got the all-clear. Come on.”

  He pushed the door open and stepped out. I followed.

  “I’m afraid it’s candlelight only in here, it’s totally like it once was—it never had electrics installed.”

  “That’s okay.” We were in the main master bedroom, a highlight of
the guided tour, and I could see enough by the flickering light of the candles. “Are you sure we should be in here?”

  “What do you mean? I own this place.” He laughed. “Just stand still a minute, I need to take the light to the door and I don’t want you knocking over an antique.”

  “That’s just what I mean, what if we damage things?”

  “We won’t,” he called over his shoulder, “don’t worry.”

  I heard the grate of a key in a lock then the light came closer and Xander’s face came into view again.

  “The stuff in here is seriously old—”

  “I know, India, I own it all. Don’t worry.” He walked over toward the bed, opened the cupboard beside it and extracted a small, cloth mat. He laid it on the cupboard and put the candelabra on top. “I’ve done this before.”

  I scowled. I didn’t want to hear about his previous conquests at that moment in time. I was emotionally raw and I wanted the time with Xander to be just him and me, no memories or ghosts from the past.

  “Not like that.” He shook his head. “We’ve raffled off a night in this room several times to raise funds. We have lots of tricks to protect the integrity of the room while the winner is in here, lots of them we keep right here!”

  “Oh, sorry for doubting you.” I looked down at my toes sheepishly.

  “It’s okay. I was quite touched that you were so concerned for my antiquities.”

  Xander pulled me into his arms and kissed me then pushed me back onto the bed.

  “Oh my God, the blankets…the original…”

  Xander jumped onto the bed beside me.

  “This is a very, very good replica of the real one.” He grinned. “The original got too delicate to leave out about oh, eight years ago now. We got a replacement made.”

  I growled at him then laughed as he did.

  “That was mean.” I pouted.

  “Yeah?” He stuck his tongue out at me.

  “Yeah.” I laughed and slapped his arm.

  “I know, I know, but I do love seeing that scared look in your eye.” He lifted my chin with his fingers. “It turns me on.”

  Before I could respond, his lips were on mine and I was drawn into a scorching hot kiss.

  “It turns me on too. It turns me on anticipating, waiting for your next move, wondering what you’re going to do to me, how it’s going to hurt.” I moaned.

  He stroked my face, gently traced my lips. There wasn’t time to hold back, there wasn’t time to worry. I had to let him know what he meant to me because we only had one night and that one night was going to count.

  “God, India,” he groaned, “what are you trying to do to me?”

  “I’m trying to make you fuck me.” I grinned and pushed him back then I threw off my T-shirt and climbed on top of him. “Is it working?” I rocked against him, pressed my crotch down onto his, feeling the bulge there.

  “Oh yeah, it’s working.” He gasped.

  I laughed and ground against him some more.

  He grasped my waist, and I continued to ripple my body, rubbing his crotch on each downstroke. Me with no knickers, him with trousers in the way. I didn’t care, it felt so good, the scratch of his fly over my clit, the pressure of his cock rubbing between my pussy lips. I didn’t know if I’d be able to get off but it sure as hell was fun trying.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted, raised his hands to my waist and flicked me to the side.

  I fell onto the mattress then his weight was on top of me.

  “I’m the one in charge, India, not you.” He grabbed my hands and held them down above my head. He lifted his hands away, waited to see if I would move them, and when I didn’t he kissed me.

  He sat back on his heels and leisurely pulled my bra out of his pocket.

  “It’s not the rope I’d choose,” he mumbled, “but under the circumstances it will do.”

  Taking my hand, he wound one end of the bra around it. He tied a knot and doubled it then leaned up and wrapped the other end around the chunky post of the bed and secured it.

  I tugged at the bond and my pulse quickened. I wasn’t going to be able to loosen it and I wondered what he was going to do to me.

  “Now, for the other.” He pulled his tie from another pocket and repeated the process until I was stretched between the two posts with him poised above me, looking down and unbuttoning his shirt.

  “That’s better,” he mused. “Not that I didn’t enjoy the feel of your cunt against my cock, darling, but we can’t have you getting ideas above your station now, can we?”

  When he’d discarded his shirt he leaned over to kiss my cheek then whispered in my ear, “If at any point you’re not happy with what’s happening just say your safe word, this is all for your pleasure, you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good.” He brushed his lips over my cheek again. “Good.”

  He pulled away from me and stood at the side of the bed, facing the wall behind the impressive bed as he stripped. It was all very surreal, I’d barely thought about the surroundings when he’d been near me, but now he wasn’t I drank in the dark red damask, the mahogany posts and the opulence of my surroundings. I knew what it looked like beyond the radius of the light from the other day and I was thankful not to be seeing it. I’d be completely distracted by the history. It already seemed naughty enough being tied to a priceless bed—if I could have seen the priceless room I might have said my safe word in sheer panic. One doesn’t simply just fuck in a room of serious historic importance. I was sure that had to be in the stately manor rule book somewhere.

  Xander was a beautiful man in or out of his clothes. I traced his outline with my gaze—the hard lines of his chest, the soft rounds of his buttocks and everything in between. I wanted to feel him, that body against mine. I wanted to hold him close but I was immobilized, I couldn’t.

  “So, what am I going to do to you now?” Xander pondered as he turned to face the bed. “Hmm, so many possibilities.”

  He slid onto the bed beside me and just looked at me. I craved his touch, the caress of his gaze made my skin tingle.

  “You’re gorgeous, you know.” He skimmed his fingers over my chest and breast. “I could play with you all day, every day.” Xander tugged the skirt off my hips, trailed it down my legs and threw it over the end of the bed.

  He headed back to where he’d left off, stroking my stomach then lower to my thighs. I was just relaxing into it, anticipating the next caress, shutting my eyes to enjoy it more, when it stopped.

  I flickered open my eyes and he was smiling wickedly at me. I bit my bottom lip and pondered what he was going to do next. He grabbed my ankle and tickled my feet.

  “No!” I shrieked.

  He laughed and continued as I flexed and kicked my legs to dislodge him from me. I laughed and growled in frustration.

  He relented, but only for a moment, then he moved the tickling to behind my knee.

  “No, please, no.”

  He watched me thrashing with an annoyingly smug smile.

  He bent my leg back and continued to tickle my knee. I found it harder to kick and I was distracted by the fact that my buttocks were exposed. He moved to his knees and grabbed my other leg. The tickling stopped, one relief, but the tension built. I was completely exposed to him. Every inch of my most intimate area was open to him and he was gazing down at me ravenously.

  Yes, he’d been in such close quarters in the dining room but somehow having my arms immobilized made me feel all the more vulnerable, all the more embarrassed.

  “So.” He shifted his grip so that he held back my legs with one arm, leaving the other one free to do, well, whatever he wanted to do. “India, since we entered this room you’ve doubted my judgment and you’ve tricked and teased me.” Xander tutted. “Oh, India, India, India.”

  He shook his head and my whole body tightened. I gulped, my cheeks flaring with heat. My heart raced and I held very still. I jumped when he pressed his fingers to my butt cheek but he
just gently stroked me, moving from one buttock to the other, even skimming over my dampening pussy.

  He had to have felt me relax because he raised that hand and slapped it on my left cheek, and within a moment he’d slapped the other. I wriggled against him as he rained the blows down, careful to catch the full plumpness of my cheeks. The sting sharpened and I yelped and cried out with pain. Just when I wondered if I could take any more he stopped and stroked my flesh again.

  “I love how your flesh pinkens, India, it’s so fucking sexy.”

  I was about to thank him when he smacked my exposed thigh. I jumped—I hadn’t expected him to hit my thighs—but he concentrated the next blows there until the backs of my legs stung and ached to the same level as my arse. I struggled to get away from him but he easily held me back, held me exposed and open for him.

  After another short pause while I dragged in air and composed myself, he varied the locations of his slaps from buttocks to thighs and back again. Some spanks were hard and made me gasp, moan or curse, and others were softer. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do next and I was wet and driven wild with wanting.

  “Have you learned your lesson?” he asked, pausing with his hand in the air.

  “Yes, yes, yes, Sir,” I panted.

  “Are you sure?” His hand dropped and I flinched, but the strike never made contact. I cursed him inwardly for being so wicked.

  “I’m sure. I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll be good.”

  “Oh, there’s no doubt about that.” He lifted his eyebrow and grinned at me. “God, I can feel the heat from your cunt from here.” He licked his lips and shuffled forward. “How must it feel here?”

  He pressed his cock in the crease of my arse and pushed it up. His balls dragged along my stinging flesh and made me buck. I waited for penetration, but it never came.

  “Mm, this feels good.” He moved back then pressed forward again. His cock ran up and down the groove of my buttocks without giving me any satisfaction. I whimpered. It so wasn’t fair. I wanted him to fuck me.

  He moved his angle slightly and the path of his powerful thrusts moved higher, spread my lips and very nearly reached my clit. I moaned and thrashed beneath him, the stretch of my leg and stomach muscles adding to the sting of my buttocks at each impact, and I felt as if my whole body was connected with pleasure. I shook and groaned with every wave of ecstasy. Small orgasmic vibrations spread out through me and I clenched my internal muscles as the ripples bathed me.