by Andersen,Kai
“That was incredible.” He collapsed beside her, his face in her throat. “I’ll clean it off you in a minute.” He tangled his legs with hers, and his cock lay against her thigh -- hot and wet.
She mumbled acquiescence. She was breathing as hard as he was. Was it as good for her as it was for him? He wished they could do more. But he’d have to ease her into it slowly.
She’d been so tight yesterday; he’d wondered if she could take him, take his whole length into her. At the thought of being buried in her, his cock stirred, hungry and greedy for more.
Lethargy left him.
Resting his head on his upraised palm, he watched her as he cupped her mound. Her eyes were still closed, but her expressive face revealed both her shock and delight. She hummed a tuneless song of satisfaction as her pussy throbbed beneath his hand.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Hmm.”
“And wonderful.”
“Hmm.”
“Incredibly generous.”
“Hmm.”
“Aristotle’s a bad cat.”
“Hmm.”
“He ate all your goldfish.”
“Hmm.”
Clearly, she wasn’t up for conversation.
His fingers played among her curls and folds lazily. He avoided her clitoris, knowing it was still too sensitive to touch.
“So ... do you miss your parents?”
“Hmm.”
“Your parents.” His need for patience was killing him. “Do you miss them?”
“Parents?” Her brows knitted. “Miss ... them? Ah ... yes.”
He liked that “ah” of pleasure. He wasn’t sure if the “yes” was in answer to his question or something else.
“And where’d you learn to cook?”
“Cook?” The frown became deeper.
“Yes. Mrs. Goode-Heart said you’re the one who cooked breakfast your first day here.”
“Break --” Her breath hitched, and then she moaned. She bucked.
He slackened the intensity of his fingers.
She wailed and thrashed her head restlessly.
He ignored her. “Yes, such a scrumptious breakfast. Who taught you to cook?”
“Cook ...” She panted. “Aunt taught me ...” She opened desire-glazed eyes and clutched his arm. “Frederick ... what are you ... doing? Frederick ... please ...”
He’d thought to build her anticipation, increase her tension and take her on the most exhilarating ride she’d ever had. But he wasn’t proof against the pleading in her eyes.
“Tell me what you want, honey.” His fingers slipped among her folds.
“You know ...”
“Tell me.”
“Like yesterday.”
“You like that, huh?” He couldn’t help the immense satisfaction that leaked out.
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
She pleaded, “Please.”
“I want to hear you say it.” His hand continued its sensual stroke. “If you don’t, I’ll just continue what I’m doing now.”
“I like ...” She licked her lips. He grew more aroused at the sight, his cock thumping gently against her thigh. “I like ... your fingers in me.” The last words were said in a rush.
“How many?”
“One.”
“Just one?”
“Two.”
“Just two?”
“Three.” A faint questioning note.
“Hmm ... you’re very tight. Probably two is all you can take now.” He grunted, his cock aching badly, because his cock was definitely more than two fingers’ width. Nevertheless, he slipped two in her wetness and massaged her folds, thumbing her clitoris. “Like that?”
“Yes.” She moved her head restlessly.
He continued his massage for some time, building her anticipation. He wanted it to be good for her. His thumb rubbed over her clitoris every now and then, drawing away when she seemed to be nearing her peak. His fingers dipped shallowly into her vagina and spread the wetness among her folds.
Her breath shortened as her anticipation grew. Her dress was plastered onto her midriff, his seed soaking through the material to her belly. She’d never looked sexier. The scent of sex was pervasive in the room, exciting them both. He looked down at her intently, his gaze burning and hot.
“I believe you’ll like this even more.” He pushed two fingers into her hot tight wet channel.
“Yes.” She closed her eyes and rolled her head back as she arched into his fingers.
She was so beautiful, with passion and need expressed clearly on her face. Frederick got drunk just from seeing her sweet response to his lovemaking. He already knew how she looked and felt with his cock caught in between her pussy lips. He wondered how she’d look with his cock in her tight depths. His groin tightened further at the thought.
His fingers kept a steady pace as he drove them in and out of her, the sweet slurping sound as he pulled them out increasing his arousal. Maybe he’d ask her to give him head later. That thought caused his fingers to speed up, pushing them in so hard his palm smacked loudly against her clitoris.
She screamed.
It was the first time she’d done that, and Frederick was immediately jarred out of his daydreams. “What is it? Did I hurt you?” His fingers immediately slowed.
“No, no.” Her fingernails dug into his arms with a desperateness that touched him.
“Don’t stop. Do that again. Please.”
“This?” He deliberately pushed his fingers in hard, causing his palm to land lightly on her mound, hitting her clitoris.
“Yes, yes. Don’t stop. Harder.”
The combination of pleasure-pain seemed to be her undoing. She tried to gain purchase on his thighs to push her hips up on his downstroke, even pushing hard against his palm as she tried to get it to land harder on her pussy. She was alternately sobbing and uttering soft mewling cries, desperation in her voice and in her body.
“Easy, easy, honey.” He nuzzled her ear and her cheek. “I’ll help you.”
He used his palm to grind down hard on her clitoris on every downstroke, and he knew that she was close. A few more strokes and hard grinding and she was over the edge, arching beautifully in his arms, her hot depths tightening and contracting madly around his fingers, the rush of thick wet cream coating his fingers.
Finally, she lay quiet in his arms, still breathing a little too fast. Sweat covered her face and neck. “What just happened?” She sounded bewildered.
She probably was, the poor dear. No doubt she thought making love was sweet and nice and tidy. Frederick wanted to laugh out loud. She’s sure to be a little hellcat in bed.
“You’re showing me what you like.”
“And what’s that?”
“A little rough. A little hard.” He bent to whisper in her ear. “I wish we were in bed right now, and I could fuck your little pussy with my cock. We’d do it the way you like.”
She looked up at him, fire smoldering in her green depths. “I might just let you.”
His breath caught. His eyes darkened. Before he could say anything though, he heard the sound of voices chattering right outside the library door.
The knob rattled and turned slowly ...
Frederick hurriedly drew her wet dress down her thighs and plonked a stuffy pillow on her lap to cover the evidence of their activities.
Giselda’s voice floated in through the slightly open door. “Frederick’s got to be in here.”
Frederick stuffed his still erect cock into his trousers. He sat down beside Serena and pulled a pillow over his own lap.
“We’ve looked for him everywhere.”
He glanced at Serena and saw that she was busy doing up the buttons on her bodice and arranging her hair. The skirt portion of the dress clung wetly to her belly and thighs, but there was nothing they could do about it. Finally satisfied with her appearance, she gripped the pillow and trembled. His heart beat faster, and his breath quickened.
&
nbsp; Were they about to be discovered?
The door stopped in its inward movement.
“Why don’t I look in here for you, Your Highness?” Rodin’s voice answered her. “I just remembered that we haven’t looked in the music room yet.”
Frederick breathed a sigh of relief.
“No, I want to look! I’m sure I heard a scream.”
Rodin overrode her. “Serena loves playing the piano; he could be there as well.”
It was like a magic word had been spoken. Giselda immediately said, “You’re right, they may have gone there while we were at the other side of the ...” Her voice moved farther away.
Rodin’s hand snuck in to give them the thumbs up before withdrawing and locking the door.
Serena slumped against Frederick, the tension draining out of her. “That was close.”
He hugged her, wondering why he didn’t share the same sentiments. For some reason, he didn’t mind being caught. It might even provide a way out for this intolerable situation with Serena.
Chapter Eleven
Giselda entered the music room and stood disappointed. He wasn’t here. She’d feared as much when she didn’t hear so much as a laugh outside the door. They were always laughing, those two. When she heard a sound behind her, she spun around to find Rodin leaning against the doorway. Anger sparked in her veins.
“You lied to me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You said he’s in here.”
“I never said that. I said he could be in here.”
A sudden, horrible realization filled her. “He was in there, wasn’t he? The library? He was in the library, right?” Her words ended in a shriek.
His body language conveyed reluctance as he nodded slowly.
“Aargh!” She growled as she brushed past him, anger granting her the strength to push him out of the way.
She slammed open the library door, but she was too late. Pillows littered the floor and the room smelled funny, but nobody was in there.
Hearing movement behind her, she whirled around, knowing who she’d find. “This is all your fault! How dare you lie to me. I’ll have your head for this.”
Rodin merely looked at her and shrugged.
She knew why he was so complacent. He knew Frederick wouldn’t let anything happen to him.
A helpless fury rose up within her. It seemed that everything and everyone was conspiring against her. It had been a perfect plan at first. Cooped up in the hunting lodge with no other females in sight, Frederick would be forced to turn to her, they’d have sex, and because she was a princess, they’d marry. The sudden storm was a godsend. She’d thought the gods were smiling down on their impending union. And then to have Serena show up and interfere with her plans!
She gritted her teeth, aware of the fury overwhelming her, suffocating her. Those two could be having sex right now -- they could’ve already done it, in fact! -- and then her dreams of being queen would be gone.
Dreams were so fragile, like bubbles. One wrong move, and they burst.
She’d have to make sure that her next move was the right one.
“I’ll get you for this!”
“I’ll be waiting, Princess.”
His mocking laughter grated on her nerves, as if jeering at her for being a fool. But they were the fools, for believing that Serena was as common as the servants, as ordinary as ... she was.
No! She was a princess now, and she’d be queen one day.
And Giselda wasn’t quite so certain that Serena wasn’t a princess. Though the latter was traveling without the usual baggage of royalty, there was something about her, a regal bearing, a quiet elegance -- something -- that couldn’t be faked. She had to be born with it or trained so well that she came across as the genuine article.
Giselda might be slow at times, but she wasn’t stupid.
A moment later, she burst into the queen’s suite of rooms, her skirts swishing angrily about her legs. “Mother! You have to help me. Serena’s taking Frederick away from me.”
“Hush dear.” The queen continued writing. “A princess doesn’t talk in a voice above the norm. She doesn’t shout. She doesn’t slam doors --”
“Mother! You obviously don’t realize the seriousness of the situation --”
“She doesn’t cut in so rudely --”
“They were kissing like mad last night” -- and she’d felt weird watching them, all hot and bothered -- “and Frederick was in her room this morning! And then, I’m very sure they were up to no good in the library just now.”
Her mother finally looked up. But she just sighed. “You know what Frederick’s like, dear. Even I can’t do anything about it. Just let him get her out of his system, and then he’ll be all yours.”
“But what if she’s a princess, Mother?” When the queen looked as though she was about to speak, Giselda pressed on. “What if? Have you thought of that? What if we find out later on that she’s indeed a princess when Frederick’s already been to bed with her? What then, Mother?”
Her mother sighed again, rubbing the bridge of her nose in an uncharacteristic gesture of tiredness. No doubt she thought Giselda was making a lot of fuss over nothing. But one good thing about her mother was that she’d never failed her. Yet.
“All right, daughter, I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter Twelve
It’ll be even more wonderful with my cock in your pussy.
I wish we were in bed right now, and I could fuck your little pussy with my cock. And we’d do it the way you like it, too.
His raw words reverberated in her head as Serena lay on her bed, waiting for sleep to claim her. She shivered, lust and longing sweeping through her at the memory. She wondered how it’d feel to have him inside her, filling her. She hadn’t had a cock inside her before, but she’d listened as the female servants at home had gossiped about their lovers, how good Tom was, how short Dick’s cock was, and other stuff she didn’t understand at that time.
A cock. She now knew what a cock was, but her image of it was blurry. She knew though exactly how good it felt against her pussy.
At the memory, her pussy throbbed. She ached to have Frederick’s cock against her again. And if she dared, she’d have it in her.
The rain still thundered against the rooftops, making this the fifth consecutive day and night that it rained. She wondered when it would stop. Yet, the thought of continuing her journey and making her way to her aunt’s home was no longer as appealing as before.
But what she was doing was wrong, so wrong. She had no business sinking in deeper, tasting all the carnal delights Frederick seemed intent on teaching her. She had no business imagining how it would be to have Frederick’s cock in her. She had no business with Frederick’s cock, period.
But she knew it would be no good to protest when the time came, because she just couldn’t say no. Frederick had only to touch her, to look at her, and she’d forget everything but how he felt against her, and how he made her feel -- the pleasure, the desire, the heat.
The opening and closing of her door interrupted her musings. She sat up in bed, wondering if the maid had forgotten something.
The person strode toward her, his strides long and sure and so familiar that she immediately knew who it was before he stopped in front of her.
“Frederick!” She shrieked, the sound muffled by the hand she clapped over her mouth. She clutched the blanket to her chest as she sat up. “What are you doing here?”
He deposited a candle on the bedside table and then enfolded her in a warm hug, pressing her head against his chest. “I’ve missed you.”
Without conscious volition, her arms went around his waist. He felt so good -- strong and warm and masculine. “So soon?” Her voice was shaking, but she couldn’t help it. The truth had hit her like a big rock falling on top of her head: She’d missed him too, not just his body and the things he did to her, but his conversation and companionship.
“Not soon enough. You were so sweet yesterd
ay, do you remember?”
“How could I forget?” She snuggled against him, rubbing her cheek against his chest like a cat. “And this afternoon?”
“That was wonderful for me too.” His voice was equally soft.
“I’m so glad.”
“It was certainly better than some orgasms I’ve experienced in the past.” His voice held a tinge of laughter.
She smiled, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I wish we could do it the proper way --”
“Ssh. Every way with you is the proper way.” His arms tightened around her. “Damn, I can’t get enough of you.”
Serena laughed softly. “And that’s bad.”
“No, it’s good.” His hold slackened. Tipping her chin up with his fingers, he leaned down and kissed her. “If I get to do this as often as I like.” He tumbled her back on the bed and they fell against the soft mattress in a tangle of limbs and laughter. A laughter that was stilled the moment he engaged her in a passionate kiss, a kiss that made them hot. A kiss that left them gasping for breath.
His hand found her breast and teased her nipple into prominence through her nightgown. She moaned. She hadn’t realized just how much she missed his touch. His lips traced a path to her neck and laved at the wildly beating pulse at the base. Goddess, he felt so good, so vibrant, so strong and solid, so male. All of a sudden, he grasped the thin nightgown and ripped it in one smooth movement.
She gasped. That was her only nightgown, but she loved this violent side to Frederick. This desperate side that conveyed just how impatient he was for her.
“Stop!”
Breathing hard, he groaned. “Don’t do this to me, Serena.” But he stopped.
“I want to see you.” Was that her voice? She sounded like she’d just come awake from a sound sleep. She liked it; it sounded sexy. She sounded sexy. She only hoped bad breath didn’t come with it.
“You’re seeing me.”