by Georgia Fox
But she swept those thoughts aside as Ram kissed her hungrily and closed his hands over her breasts. She shivered with delight. "Don't be gentle," she whispered, nibbling at his rough chin. "Take me. Touch me all over. Fuck me."
With his help she would erase the past and come out of her shadow. She would become a woman at last, strong and capable of standing alone.
His cock thrust slickly between her labia, ramming home. Then he lay a moment, sheathed deep. She felt his pulse thudding hard and wild within her body. Ram slid his hands under her bottom, lifting her a little off the bed and then he fucked her steadily, looking down at where their bodies joined.
Ariana slipped her knees over his broad shoulders and that made his penetration even deeper. His eyes were bright, shining down at her, his mouth slack, his breath audible.
She squeezed her muscles, wanting to hold his cock longer within her, but he was in control. He made the pace.
Pulling out, he knelt on the bed and summoned her astride his lap. Slowly, inch by inch, she mounted him again, impaling her pussy on his thick phallus. His hands grabbed her buttocks, gripping her firmly, forcing her to slow down although she would have liked to break into a gallop. Placing her palms on his shoulders she rode him at a steady canter instead, taking his instruction and guidance, despite her impatience.
"Yes," he muttered, "there we go. There!" He pushed upward as she came down, spearing her thoroughly with a jolt that made her gasp. Then, with his hands holding her thighs, he kept her down, grinding his hips, his cock twitching madly within her cunt. She feared he would spend inside, and yet it wasn't really fear. There was exultation too, because she knew he was tempted to empty his seed in her, that he was so close to his orgasm. All that power hers to unleash.
His skin was hot under her hands, his eyes shut, jaw tight. The muscles in his chest, shoulders and thighs bulged with power. He held her down astride his beautiful prick and groaned, a low savage rumble rolling through his body.
"Ram. Come inside! I want you to."
He opened his eyes. "Christ, I want to," he grunted, pushing upward with his thighs again, bouncing her in his lap, his knob thrusting and pushing. "I want to fill you up."
Ariana threw her head back, crying out as sheer bliss seized her mercilessly. As she came, he bent his head and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking and laving the sharp peak with his lusty tongue, making the climax expand and lengthen until she was mewling like a kitten, her body flexing and bumping up and down, riding him roughly.
She was still dizzy, still trembling when he lowered her back to the bed, pulled out of her and shot his seed across her belly with a shout of half-despair, half-delight.
* * * *
"I told you to come inside," she moaned, breathless, hitched up on her elbows to look down at the sticky ropes of his seed that crisscrossed her pale stomach.
Ram swept hair back from his sweating brow and dropped heavily to lie beside her on the narrow bed. He laughed huskily, tugging her against him with one arm around her waist. "You know I can't do that. Too much risk for you, Ariana."
She shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Or for you?"
He drew back a little. "And what does my wicked lady mean by that?"
Ariana gave a little sniff and raised a finger to his lips, tracing their shape slowly. "Everybody knows you don't like to be burdened. The Thruster must be free to come and go as he pleases with no ties."
"Yes." He would not deny that this was the way he had lived his life. From now on he would always be honest with her. And there was something he wanted to say, for it weighed heavily on his thoughts now as they lay together. "Ariana, I guard you because I must— not for the sake of duty, but because I need to. If anything ever happened to you, I could never live with myself." Somehow he got the words out. He had to make her understand so she would not run off again and hide from him.
Her eyes were wide now and solemn.
"You must trust me to look after you," he added.
Slowly she smiled. "I am not certain the queen's servant should give her orders, telling her what she must do."
"Somebody has to tell you, my lady."
"I'm not a child."
"No." He sighed heavily. "This I know."
Her smile grew wider. "We are lovers now. I am your mistress."
"That appears to amuse you."
"Of course it does. I must begin sewing you shirts and cleaning your boots."
His heartbeat quickened and he pulled her closer again. "I thought it would be only once. I thought that was all I needed. I was angry when I made that bargain with you, but I don't know why."
"And now?"
"I'm not angry anymore."
"What are you then?" She placed her hand to his chest and spread her fingers.
"I know not. Now everything has changed, Ariana."
* * * *
His voice was low, his words honest. She knew a man who spoke so little would never waste his breath on lies. It was refreshing. Today it felt as if a door had opened and she could escape through it, away from the deceit that had surrounded her. So many rules for her and yet so few, it seemed, for others.
"It is new," he said. "To lay here with you— with any woman— is new for me."
"It is for me too. Septimus never spent more than a few minutes in my bed."
He groaned, holding her face to his warm chest. "Don't talk of the past."
In reply she kissed the dark hair that spread across his muscle and then nestled against it, ready to fall asleep. Last night that luxury had eluded her, but tonight she was ready to give in and close her eyes.
"Where did Lady D'Arbanville go?" she murmured. "We have taken her bed." And then she opened her eyes wide. "Did she plan this for us when she brought me here?"
"Who knows what is in the mind of such a devious woman."
But Ariana smiled to herself, thinking of what the other lady had said. Ram was in love with her? Yesterday she could not have believed it. Today she was not so sure. Was it possible that a man of war could also be one who loved? He didn't seem to know it himself. He only knew that what he experienced with her was something "new".
Would he soon tire of her now that he'd had her? Probably. Men were not known for lengthy attention spans and most were more devoted to their horses than to their women. Her smile faded and she nuzzled his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.
Well, she would not let him tire of her yet. No, indeed. His body was hers to play with. He was hers. For too many years they had denied themselves this pleasure. They had a vast amount of time to make up for.
Chapter Twelve
He did not know he'd fallen asleep until he woke with a start. And found Ariana sucking on his cock. Was he dreaming?
No. His seed already surged. Slowly he rolled onto his back and stretched. She did not break off, but cupped his balls with one hand and then held his root with the other. The tender sucking continued unabated. Her long dark hair spilled over her shoulders and his hips. It caressed his thighs like a scarf of the finest silk.
He sat up a little and reached to stroke her hair, to watch her soft pink lips curved around the swelling head of his penis. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks and she swallowed more of his length, carefully, lovingly.
"Ariana," he groaned, moving his hips, stroking her hair.
Oh, this was better than any dream. It was a living heaven.
She quickened her sucking, working his shaft with her mouth and her hand. Falling back with a hoarse shout, he felt his semen rising, but he wasn't ready to spend yet. Not like this.
Curling his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head up and her lips released his knob with a loud 'pop'.
"Let me finish you off," she panted.
He sprang up and turned her over on her hands and knees, entering her pussy from behind with one thrust. She was wet for him, tight and hot. With one arm wrapped around her waist he fucked her hard, smacking his balls into her vulva with every forwa
rd parry, grunting with a feral delight. She cried out, her knees almost off the bed as he lifted her and plowed her cunt at the same time in a quick, frenzied motion. Just like that he went from sleep to being wide awake, steaming hot.
What magic was in her mouth, he wondered. Good magic. Very good magic.
* * * *
Would he split her in two with his manhood? She didn't care. It felt glorious. She would willingly be sacrificed on his spear. When she felt him pulling back, she too moved, pushing her bottom down in his lap, not letting him withdraw.
"Ariana," he groaned, grabbing her breasts and squeezing hard. "I'll come, you little tease." He lifted her off his thighs.
"Then let me swallow it." She was wild with hunger and he must have seen this, for he lay back and gestured for her to turn around.
"Kneel over me. We'll both feast. Give me that pussy, I'm hungry."
Not entirely certain how this would work, she set her knees either side of his shoulders and leaned forward to take his twitching organ in her mouth again. This time she could taste her own juices on his shaft, as well as the sticky bead of liquid already squeezing from the proud crest. Then, suddenly he had pulled her down by the hips and she was sitting on his face.
Ah, now she understood what he meant. Ah....Ahhhh.
Ariana closed her eyes and purred with delight as she suckled his marble hard cock, and he ate her pussy with the same relish. A man and a woman, stripped naked of garments and titles and rules. And fears. Simply serving and being served, matching stroke to stroke.
She felt her orgasm spark like lightning and at that same moment he shot his semen deep into her throat. There was much of it, but she swallowed eagerly, her cunt squeezing on his long tongue, nursing it as keenly as it took his cock before.
* * * *
He stroked the hair back from her face and kissed her, his mouth still sticky with her sweet dew. "I might never stop fucking you," he murmured.
"I might never let you stop."
Even like this, naked in a bed with him she was a haughty, imperious little madam. Hadn't been so a moment before as she climaxed into his mouth. But he liked both sides of her, he realized. More than liked.
"Why do you frown?" she demanded, hitched up on one elbow to look down at him, as he sprawled there, more relaxed than he had been for years.
"I'm not frowning."
"Yes you are. Shall I find you a looking glass?"
He cupped her cheek with one hand. "Inside I am not frowning. Perhaps the outside is more accustomed to a frown, so it happens even when the inside is content."
She huffed. "Then you had better get out of the habit." Leaning close she kissed him on the lips and then used the fingers of one hand to bend his mouth in a curve, while she used the other hand to smooth his brow. "There. That's better."
"My lady commands and I must obey."
"Yes. Naturally."
He grabbed her and she giggled, like a young girl. Ram too felt his youth returning. Like a sunny day appearing at midnight. He rolled over, pinning her body beneath his. "Do you think this bed has seen similar battle before?"
She grinned. "I cannot say. I used to think I knew people, but today I have found out that I know nothing about anybody."
"Lady D'Arbanville is trouble. I don't like the two of you together."
"That's not fair. She brought me here and I begin to think she did so for you."
He thought about that. It was true, she had given him the key without a fuss. Without even the pretense of reluctance.
"Besides," Ariana licked her lips, "she thinks you're in love with me."
His heart almost stopped. "Love?" It was like a portcullis with iron spikes slamming down.
Her eyes were wide, watching him. "That's what she thinks."
Ram tried to steady his thoughts and his pulse. "Pah! Love is for poets who live by the pen, not fighters who live by the sword."
"Yes," she said after a pause and a sigh, "that's what I told her."
He was feeling sick, truth be told. Slowly he rolled off her and onto his side. People who succumbed to love always ended up with a broken heart. And that could not be mended. A broken limb could be bandaged and treated with herbs. Sometimes it healed— the limb was never as it should be again, but with the right care a man could stay alive and fight again to earn his living. With a broken heart there was no cure.
The drawbridge was quickly raised right after the portcullis was slammed down. "This is fucking, because you need me," he muttered. "That's all."
She stared, unblinking. "Of course. I am a queen. You are a soldier. It can be nothing more than this."
"I wouldn't have come, when you asked for me yesterday, if I didn't want to fuck you." He ran a hand down her body and fingered her cunt. "If I didn't want to have you in every base way. Make you submit to me."
Ariana spread her thighs. "I know."
He added a second finger and then a third. "It was nothing to do with that four-leaf clover," he muttered, almost angrily.
She moaned, lifting her hips. "I know."
"I don't know why I ever gave that to you. Don't know what I was thinking."
"I know." Her hand settled over his hair, but only lightly, like a tentative bird afraid of a trap.
Ram leaned over and took her nipple in his mouth. Her legs opened wider, one thigh over his. He used his fingers like a cock and felt the silkiness of her vagina opening again for the intrusion. Her eyes were open, that beautiful green watching him. It was like sunlight falling through summer leaves. He was warmed by it, cherished by it. His heart ached.
His balls ached more.
"I never told a soul," she whispered. "I kept that four-leaf clover for ten years, until I sent the page to find you."
He could not speak. The need too great, he moved between her thighs and replaced his fingers with his engorged prick. By now he should have been tired and his cock resting. Neither was the case. Holding himself up by his forearms, he fucked her slowly, almost— it might be said— tenderly. Not that he'd ever admit that. Not even with his dying breath.
Ariana arched beneath him and wrapped her legs around his waist. "Thank god, "she whispered, "for that four-leaf clover."
Hmmm. He moved his cock in and out, indulging his senses in every luxurious inch.
"And thank god for you constantly looking at the ground," she added, "for finding it."
His seed was bursting to be freed. "I looked at the ground rather than look at you."
"Was I so ugly?"
"You know what you were. What you are to me."
She placed her hands around his face. "A woman like any other you fuck?"
"I wanted you. I needed you."
"Why did you not steal me away?"
"Duty," he grunted. "Loyalty."
She ran a slow hand down his spine and stroked his buttocks. "You're a good man, Ram Villaverde. Underneath it all— your savage manners, your rough ways. You think you're too bad to be good. But deep inside you're too good to be bad. Do you know how arousing that is?"
He almost laughed. "I'm a good man?" No one had ever said that before.
"Yes. It's incredibly exciting." She was panting, gripping his left buttock with her fingernails. "It's...rare. It's...oh."
He came then, in a rush, pumping into her, unable to stop.
It was as if their bodies were melded together by heat, inseparable.
When he lay spent, he whispered, "You must wash yourself with vinegar and water."
"Why?"
"It is what women do to prevent conception."
"Ah, of course," she said somberly.
"As soon as you can," he added.
But she lay down with him and yawned. "Yes. Soon." And very quickly she was asleep. Ram held her close, delighting in the feel of her soft body against his hard muscle, her trust given to him so completely. Although sleepy he did not let his eyes close. He wanted to enjoy every minute he had with her, to be awake for every breath.
*
* * *
In the early hours there was a scratching at the door. Lady D'Arbanville had returned to ride back to the palace with Ariana. She was all business and asked nothing about the Thruster, although Ariana knew her face must show everything. They rode with Ram following closely behind. He had said very little that morning after waking her gently with a kiss and helping her dress, but as usual his silence was meaningful to her.
Every part of her body ached, but she didn't care. She thought only of how soon they could be together again. But in harsh daylight she was forced to face the obstacles that would come between them. She had decisions to make. As Apollonia had pointed out, no one else could make the path for her now.
"Majesty," Humboldt de Bonneville greeted her in the courtyard as she dismounted from her side saddle. "You have caused us great concern again." He sounded annoyed, however, not worried.
"I was with a friend and quite safe."
"This is no time for you to be riding about the country telling no one of your whereabouts and plans."
"Actually, Lord Bonneville, I think it is a very good time for as few people as possible to know of my whereabouts at night. Particularly when I receive an anonymous warning letter on my own pillow." She began to walk away and then stopped to add, "But I agree with you about the need to make plans, and today I mean to discuss the matter of my son's coronation. I see no reason to delay the ceremony and I will urge the Council to proceed quickly."
"What about the official mourning period?"
"I believe the grieving period can coincide with the beginning of my son's reign. The country needs stability."
"You have no sway with the Council. You're only a woman."
"I may be only a woman, a widowed Queen. But I am still the mother of the next King."
His eyes moved quickly beyond her to watch Ram riding across the yard toward them. "The Thruster was with you last night?" he exclaimed.
"The Queen was with me," said Lady D'Arbanville briskly. "Now kindly move aside and let her majesty go in. It looks like rain."
