Rob didn't look convinced. Maisie gathered her scattered senses, and remembered one vital thing. With a smile she reached for his wrist and kissed the inside before she pressed her mouth and face to his crotch. The denim of his jeans didn't have the same smooth sensation as his leathers, but the outline of his cock increasing behind the material, was like a welcoming friend.
"Hello, Sir."
He pulled her to her feet. "I've missed you, Maisie. And I need you. Are you ready for me?"
"You, yes. That’s all systems go green. Some of what you want? Oh that's a big, big, red. But now? Oh I want you, just you."
He ran his hand over her hair, and across her face, almost as if he was getting reacquainted with her features.
"Then go to the bathroom, strip off, and wait for me in the shower."
Maisie remembered that had been the subject of one of the emails she hadn't gotten to … one of his tamer thoughts, no doubt.
"Yes, Sir."
The grin he gave her lit up his eyes and his face creased with delight. "Oh, Pet, I've waited with impatience to hear you say that again. Off you go." He patted her bum and gave it a short tight grip.
Maisie giggled and curtseyed. "Your wish and all that," she said, and he raised his eyebrows.
"Bratty sub. Maybe you better be glad I won't hold you to that yet, but I live in hope. Off you go. I'll be in with you in a minute or two. I have some things to sort out for us."
Her pussy clenched as she wondered just what those things might be.
****
The shower was large, with more than one water outlet, and Maisie turned both the overhead one and the side ones on full. She loved the way the water buffeted her body.
She'd hardly soaked her hair and put shampoo on before the door opened and Rob got in behind her. "Turn round and let me get that stuff off you." His hands on her shoulders tightened and dug into the knots there and she moaned in appreciation, sore but perfect. "Ahh, I need that."
"You need more than that. Now look up and grab those handles by your head. Then look down and don't let go."
What? She didn't have handles in her shower.
She was wrong. She might not have had them when she left for work, but she did now: Big and brass. Perfectly suited for her to have to hold her arms high, but not too high to put an impossible strain on her body. Maisie stretched up and gripped them, before she bent her head and saw her body reflected in the steamy reflective floor of her shower. Now she knew why it was there. Her cunt and ass showed up in a hazy, wavy picture that teased her, and Rob's hard cock showed perfectly behind her to add to her excitement. Frissons of something unknown chased over her skin, and each drop of water zapped her as it landed, almost as if branding her as it streamed down her back. It left her face clear, so she could watch and become absorbed in their play.
Rob touched her ankle with his foot.
"Spread out a bit, Pet. Yes, like that." She shuffled her feet until he tapped her ass. "Perfect. Now I want to fuck you. Not in your ass this time, but straightforward cock in cunt." He chuckled in the deep dark velvety way of his, and her pussy creamed. "Well, not quite straightforward." His hand drummed a tattoo on her ass, and he tapped slowly and then faster and harder.
Maisie gasped, the rolling heat of each touch bringing stings and tingles that got deeper and more intense. The glow she decided was now coating her ass filled her mind. There was no pain. She embraced each sting like a welcome friend as it filled her and radiated upwards until she was looking down from the ceiling. Watching his hand connect, she saw the way his cock jerked and took a second to acknowledge he'd donned a condom. Then all rational thoughts disappeared as he began to stroke her cleft. The air was lighter, clear and warm. Her body was alive, singing her enjoyment and desires, and she wanted to stay there forever.
Until his cock began to probe. Then she wanted him deep in her, to connect with him in a most basic way and feel him moving inside her.
Rob moved and gripped her sides as he thrust deep and hard into her channel and she clenched her muscles to hold him tight.
"Color?" The word was grit and stone and desire and need all rolled into one. His voice showed the strain he was under, the desire he had under a tight leash and the effort he was using to contain it. It took all of Maisie's concentration to formulate the one word they both needed, as she struggled to make him lose his iron will.
"Green."
"Then come for me, Pet." He nipped her clit hard, and then she felt his teeth bite and he sucked her neck. That was all she needed. Her body splintered, her mind fell apart and she screamed as those waves of molten lava took over to the exclusion of everything else…
Somewhere in one corner of her mind, Maisie knew she'd succeeded in upsetting his control. She heard Rob shout and felt him shudder, as even through the condom she felt the heat of him as he came.
There was nothing for it, and Maisie leaned against the wall as he slumped over her back, and his breath began to even out. Only her death-hold on the handles kept her from sliding to the floor and staying there. With a groan and a kiss to the nape of her neck Rob moved backwards and out of her, and she heard the loo flush.
The splashing of water on to her stopped and one by one Rob pried her fingers off the hard metal.
"Time for bed, Pet. To sleep. And we can talk in the morning, if you'll be happy for me to stay the night? I've no more disappearing acts to come. I've sold out, so to speak. So now's our chance to see what we have."
"Mm-mmm, I want you."
He wrapped a towel around her, and carried her into the bedroom, rubbed the soft cloth over her and put her under the duvet before joining her. He stretched out behind her, his sated cock snug against the cleft of her ass, and reached around her to hold her close. His musky male smell filled her senses and Maisie breathed in deeply to gather and hold them.
"I want all of you, Sir, well … almost." She thought she'd better own up to some worries.
"So, it seems you left your journal open. So I looked. I reckon we’ve got a solid base to start there. Are you willing to give it a go? Be my amazing Maisie?"
Maisie rolled over and put her head onto his chest. "Silly question, Sir."
The End
www.ravenmcallan.com
LIBERATING LUA
Elyzabeth M. VaLey
Copyright© 2013
Chapter One
A chilly winter breeze blew Jürgen’s hair into his eyes as he walked the last of the castle walls ensuring that everything was set for the night. There was no imminent danger at present, but one could never be sure. In his more than 30 years, he knew what it was to be out there, crouching behind bushes, hiding among trees and waiting for the perfect moment to strike an unsuspecting lord.
He would not be caught off guard. Especially, when inside his walls resided the greatest treasure a man could ever covet: Lady Lua Mirabella was a warm light in a cold night, the brightest star in a dark sky, the sunshine after a rainy day, the reward after a hard-fought battle. Lua Mirabella was all that and more: she was also his wife.
Jürgen paused to contemplate the land beyond his castle. The sun slowly dropped on the horizon, the sky flaring with vibrant colors of orange, pink and red hues. Jürgen was a lucky man. He wasn’t sure how he had gained King Cenric’s confidence, but he had, and in exchange for his service, he had gained not only GreyStorm Castle, but also the hand of his beloved Lua.
A knight with no home to call his own, he had admired her from afar with no hope whatsoever of ever getting close. He’d worshipped the very ground she stepped on and she in turn had acted with the grace and innocence of a woman that could not accept a knight’s advances.
Then, the good King Cenric had awarded him GreyStorm and for the first time he hoped that things could progress beyond his imagination. They became entangled in the game of courtly love and in utmost secret, letters, gifts and glances were exchanged until the King, in an act of grace, conceded to their marriage.
Jürgen fr
owned, his lips setting into a thin line as he reflected on his married life. It was not, as he’d dreamt, perfect bliss. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Lua. No, he loved her with all his heart and more. Should she ask him to plunge his dagger into his chest and dig out his heart to give to her as a token of his love, he would. To him, Lua was a queen that deserved the sun, the moon and the stars. She had a grace that hinted at her royal upbringing as distant cousin to the King. When needed, her presence was enough to command servants into silence, yet she could also ease the tension in a room with a simple smile. She made his heart flutter with a glance and he knew that it would be so until death took him into its embrace.
Everything was perfect, or so it seemed. Lady Lua took care of the household in ways that he could not even count. Without her, he knew that GreyStorm castle would be little more than a pile of cold rocks. Lua Mirabella made his castle a welcoming home.
Their only problem had to do with the consummation of their love. Lua did not refuse his touch, but she was unresponsive. Jürgen rubbed his cold hands together, recalling the feel of his lovely wife. Not entirely unresponsive, as he’d swallowed a few hushed moans from her raspberry lips. No, the problem was that no matter how hard he tried, she was set in the ways she’d been taught: sex was an obligation and women must endure it as quietly and still as possible. Otherwise, it was wrong.
Grinding his teeth, Jürgen turned his back on the quickly darkening vista and issued some orders to the man in command before beginning his descent back to the keep. Perhaps God was punishing him for his devious inclinations. Yet, how could something so good be bad? Besides, when it had come time to choose his bed partners, he had always taken special care to ensure that they agreed to his tastes.
With Lua Mirabella, he had never broached the subject: it was not something one discussed while courting such a fine lady. Besides, he knew she would be ready to obey his every order and command. He was Lord and Master of the castle and thus he was Lord and Master of Lua, but he wanted more. He didn’t only want to order her about and have her obey like a mindless dummy. He didn’t want to ask her to spread her legs and have her lie beneath him like a rag doll. He had no real control over her. She was just tatters of the strong woman he knew lay beneath. Fucking a woman that did not moan, move, or react was infuriating. He wanted to give her pleasure and like that, he could not.
As he reached the bottom, Jürgen made a sign to a nearby servant and ordered the wooden tub to be filled for a quick bath. Hell, he wanted a submissive wife that gave him everything. He wanted a woman that didn’t hold back. He knew Lua had it in her. He’d seen it in her grey eyes and in the occasional snarky comment she hid behind a blush, but he did not know how to open her up to him and in the process, he was slowly going insane. How much longer could he continue in this way? He wanted her moaning and writhing beneath him, bound and at his mercy, with her pale flesh pink and marked by his belt and his hand.
Jürgen’s cock twitched at the imagery in his mind. His desire was driving him away from his wife. He did not know how to treat her, so he became edgy and distant around her. He was desperate to master her and yet afraid that if he did she would run even farther from him, perhaps even soliciting a separation. His throat constricted and the sudden pain in his chest caused him to halt midway to the kitchen. The thought of losing Lua Mirabella was beyond painful. He had seen plenty of bloodshed in his life, but never before had he felt such paralyzing fear. He could accept succumbing to the sharp blade of a skilled warrior, but living without Lua’s gentle manner and soft smile would be the most horrific torture.
With a steadying breath, Jürgen resumed his walk, removing his leather gloves as he entered the almost empty kitchen. He would have to learn to live with Lua as she was. She obeyed him dutifully around the household and she didn’t deny him access to her sacred warmth at night. She was kind and affectionate and their conversations weren’t dull. By normal standards, she was a good wife so he’d have to set his dark passions aside with her and continue using one of the servants as a substitute.
Giselle, the young kitchen maid would have to do. She was happy to be the object of his attentions. Furthermore, she understood that they couldn’t fuck––not only because of the problems a bastard child could bring, but because he lusted after Lua. Every blow on the maid’s pale flesh was an imagined mark on his Lua’s body. Every moan, a delectable groan from his Lua. Every “yes, my lord” sounded to him like Lua’s soft-spoken voice. No, he couldn’t fuck the maid. He’d get his urges out of his system and then crawl into bed with his wife and order her to spread her legs.
There was no doubt that tonight would be another one of those nights. With a sad sigh, he made a sign to the young boy in the corner.
“Fetch Giselle for me. Tell her to wait downstairs, as usual.”
The boy nodded and ran off to find the young woman while Jürgen stripped in preparation for his bath.
Chapter Two
Lua started at the soft knock. She was at the door in an instant, swinging it open with unnecessary force. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the pretty kitchen maid in her doorway, holding a lit torch.
“He’s called, my lady.”
Lua nodded, speechless. Nerves made her hands shake as she grasped her fur-lined cloak and threw it over her head.
“Lead me to the place, Giselle.”
Without a word, the other woman walked down the gloomy hall. Lua followed a step behind. She shivered. She’d rarely ventured the castle grounds at night and it unnerved her. Shafts of moonlight filtered through the loopholes, the cold winter breeze whispering through like the lament of a saddened spirit. The sound mingled with the soft pitter-patter of her slippers against the stone and the loud beating of her heart in her ears.
Her mind reeled. She had been taught from an early age that she should never interfere with her husband’s business, but she couldn’t hold back. Jürgen was unhappy. A man of few words, he hadn’t openly told her of his unrest, but she could sense it. It broke her heart. Especially, since she suspected that she was the reason for his state. Lately his manner with her had become more clipped, more formal. His warm eyes gazed at her with cool detachedness and the nerve in his jaw seemed to be always ticking whenever he glanced her way. It anguished her, yet she didn’t know why he was so frustrated with her. She did everything he asked. She served him, she cared for the household, she came to him when he called, and every night she opened her legs to accommodate his steel length into her waiting womb. Yet, he was miserable. She yearned to speak to him, to understand his misery and his pain. With their marriage, the open communication they had shared during their courtship had all but vanished. It was natural, or so her mother had instilled in her since she could remember. Married women did not speak to their husbands. They merely obeyed and bore children.
Lua huddled into her cloak. She missed the passion from their days of courtship. She shook her head, dejectedly. No, what she missed was the freedom of those days. Every night she was forced to keep her emotions under control. Every night, guilt clawed at her gut. She was not supposed to feel pleasure, yet at every touch of her husband her skin prickled. At every pulsating thrust from his iron cock, she felt pleasure. At every brush of his lips against hers, she melted. Every night, at Jürgen’s firm touch, her body coiled, tightened until she could not hold back any longer. Her body would convulse and she’d bite on her lip so hard, she’d drawn blood more than once. Guilt would follow, substituting the pleasurable tremors and flooding her senses. Pleasure was a sin, a mistake. Her duty was nothing more than to lie with Jürgen and bear children.
She tried. God knows she tried every night to fulfill her duty and lie still as a rag doll in her husband’s arms. Every night it became more difficult. Unbidden moans and whimpers crossed the threshold of her pursed lips. Her hands bore half moon marks from the pressure she exerted on them to keep from touching her husband. She ached for Jürgen in every imaginable way. She wanted to feel his arms around her
, to have him touch and explore her body like an enamored lover. She wanted to see him in the open light and trace every one of his battle scars with her fingertips. She wanted to taste him, to lick the drops of sweat tickling his jaw and rolling down his neck as he pumped into her.
She had wanted all that before she discovered the situation between Giselle and Jürgen, and now she wanted it more than ever. A fortnight ago, she’d heard rumors about Jürgen’s affair with the kitchen maid. Her world had crumbled. Her heart had stopped beating. Everything she’d ever been taught had not prepared her for the pain that lanced through her at the knowledge that her husband, her beloved, was seeking his pleasure elsewhere. She was a good lady of the castle and a good wife and someday, she hoped, she would be a good mother for Jürgen’s children. She obeyed all of her husband’s requests and she cared for the household. She kept clean and made sure her hair was combed and styled. She walked straight, with confidence. She prayed every morning. She did everything she had been taught to do and yet her husband, the man that had courted her for months and to whom she’d lost her heart, was seeking pleasure elsewhere. It hurt so bad that in a moment of bravery, craze and blind jealousy, she’d called the maid to her chambers, ready to confront her.
The foolish lass did not deny the affair. Horrified, Lua slapped her for her impudence, but the young girl was not deterred, and she begged to be heard.
Giselle explained that they did not join their bodies in the carnal act. They did something else that had made Lua’s blood run cold … for about five minutes. Then her blood had boiled and arousal had pooled low in her belly as images of herself in her servant’s place assaulted her. She’d sent the girl away, determined to speak to her husband about his dark desires, but unable to bring herself to it. Jealousy and heartbreak became a tangled mix in her breast and she couldn’t control them.
The Crimson Rope Page 6