by Morgan Henry
So he stepped away, kissed her palm, and opened the door to her room, delivering her to Kyna.
He went to his own room, removed his clothing, and dismissed Tors. His sleeping pants and robe were laid out on the bed, but Arto just pulled the robe over his naked body.
He was still on fire for his little Sola. His erection hadn’t diminished one bit and his balls throbbed in torment. He sighed. He knew he could find a willing maid, but the only woman he wanted was in the bedroom across the hall.
He grabbed a cloth from the washstand and slumped in the chair in front of the fire. He palmed his cock, thinking about Cella’s soft body.
She would be beautiful bound for his pleasure. He would tie her up, arms above her head, legs splayed open, and blindfolded with a blue scarf. She would be flushed from the orgasm he had just given her, the pink of her skin only adding to the eroticism of her bonds.
He would give her more releases, but he needed one himself. He would straddle her, his legs hugging her torso so that his cock was bobbing above her breasts. With one hand he would tease her nipples while he stroked himself with the other.
He would pinch and play with her nipples until they were bright pink and she was straining against her bonds with the pleasure. But he would deny her release until he was finished. His hand would work faster on his penis, gripping harder and jerking more forcefully.
And as his lovely sola writhed, he would come, spraying jets of his seed all over her breasts, marking her as his.
Arto groaned as his release came, the picture of Cella’s naked breasts in his mind. His cock softened as he stroked it a few more times, but he knew he would be aroused again before morning. Hell, he would probably be dreaming of her within an hour.
He cleaned himself and went to bed, looking forward to the dreams of Cella and yet frustrated that she wasn’t with him.
Yet.
Chapter 7
The sun was just starting to skim the tops of the mountains in preparation for sunset as the party rode into the town. It was a decent size, smaller than a city but larger than a village. There were a wide variety of goods for sale, from oats to dresses and fine furniture. There was a healer hall and Cella saw a sign for a Master Enchanter’s. There were also two inns.
This last was what Cella had been looking forward to.
Arto had said they would spend the night in an inn.
They had been two days travelling from the Marquess of Anglesly. Cella had to admit she preferred a bed, but sleeping in a tent wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
She was doing much better now. She wasn’t excessively painful and exhausted at the end of yesterday. Somehow, she had gained enough muscle and stamina to ride all day and still sit around the fire and speak with the rest of the party in the evening. She didn’t even feel like death warmed over right now.
The group made their way to the smaller of the two inns, but it looked to be the nicer of them. It was neat and tidy, everything seemed to be in good repair. There was a large stable out behind that was similarly well kept.
As they entered the stable yard, several youths came out to help with the horses and a man that Cella presumed was the innkeeper came out of the back door and watched the scene.
Arto held out his arm for her and Cella accompanied him to see the innkeeper.
Arto nodded pleasantly to the man. “Good evening. Our party requires accommodations and a meal for tonight. What do you have available?”
“Good evening, my Lord. My Lady.” The innkeeper nodded to both of them. “I’m Chir, the owner of the inn. Like as not, we’ll be able to see to your needs. I’ve six rooms available. There’s one that will do for you and your Lady. It has servant’s quarters attached to it, and the rest should be able to double up in the other rooms. We can have dinner ready in about an hour and a half, if that’s to your liking. And there are baths, if your Ladyship would like.”
They had walked into the large common room as they spoke. It had a large bar along the inner wall. Chir stepped behind the bar and pulled out his ledger. Arto and he went over the cost of lodging and food while Cella looked at the room.
As with the outside, the inside was tidy and smelled clean. A huge stone fireplace was lit against the chill of the waning day along the outer wall. There were tables and chairs neatly lined up around the room. There was a raised platform at one end where she presumed there would be the occasional minstrel.
“Cella,” Arto called. “If you wish, there will be hot water for a bath shortly.”
Cella smiled. “Thank you, that would be wonderful.”
“I’ll just see that your maid knows where everything is, my Lady. I can’t say as I haven’t had guests such as yourself not want baths.” There was the clink of coins and Chir handed a few keys to Arto. “These are spelled to each room as well. I’ll hand out the others as your men come through.”
Kyna and Tors entered the common room and Arto handed them each a key. “You have your own room attached to ours.”
Chir headed upstairs and they followed. Cella heard him giving instructions about baths to Kyna and Tors. He showed them to a spacious bedroom with another fireplace and small seating area. “I’ll leave you then,” he said as he closed the door behind him.
Cella looked around the room. It was not quite as nice as Lady Lovina’s guest rooms, but it approached them. There was no dust and the fireplace was clean and laid to be lit. The bed was large and had plenty of blankets for the cold nights this time of year.
She suddenly realized that Arto was still in the room with her. He was watching her silently, leaning against the bedpost.
Cella suddenly realized that this was their room.
Arto had asked her to think about being his lover three nights ago. He hadn’t brought it up again, even though he had entered her tent each night as if he belonged there. At her enquiry, he said it was too cold for her to sleep alone so he would continue to keep her warm.
He hadn’t mentioned his desire to be her lover.
She suspected he would now.
Now that there was privacy and a large bed. One with posts at each corner.
She had certainly thought about being Arto’s lover. For the past three days it had not been far from her mind. But she had not wanted any entanglements on this journey. She wanted to do her duty by the Vizier and go back to her life at the Guild.
She hadn’t counted on the Duke of Bridgend.
Though Jorval was a little less sexually liberal than Kerban, the differences were minor. Cella was not a virgin and neither were most women her age. Cella had experienced one lover, and frankly, she couldn’t see what the excitement was about sex.
The ladies at court and her friends spoke about sex as if it was something to be sought. They thought spending the afternoon with their lover was something to be prized.
Cella couldn’t imagine spending the afternoon having sex. For one thing, she couldn’t see her lover lasting that long. It didn’t seem to take her previous lover more than a few minutes to achieve his pleasure. Only once had she reached the same intense gratification he did in all their time together.
Sex was messy, too. She was always left feeling vaguely sticky and in need of a bath. She wondered if part of the feeling was in her mind.
The relationship had died after only a couple of months. She didn’t enjoy the sex and he didn’t seem to want to spend time with her if they weren’t copulating.
Cella thought it was for the best. She did feel a little used. How could she not when it was clear that he had no interest in her outside of the bedroom? But then, he hadn’t promised her a life together.
Neither had Arto.
He had made it clear he wanted her while she was in Kerban. No flowery promises of a home, children, and long life together. But he did promise pleasure and plenty of it, apparently. He certainly made her more aroused with a few words than anyone else in her experience, ever.
And by the God and Goddess, he could kiss! The joining of th
eir lips in the stable left Cella wanting. She had pleasured herself late that night, but it wasn’t enough.
And he was already more interested in her than her past lover. They spoke of her work, and his love of horses. He told her of court life in Kerban and asked about her experiences in Jorval. He had taken it upon himself to teach her to ride, when he could easily have left it to Tors or another of his men.
All this flew through her head as Arto waited, leaning against the post.
She looked up at him and he gave her a slow smile that seemed to hint that he could read her mind.
She swallowed.
“I think you should go get your bath, Cella.” Arto spoke the words that sounded innocent enough, but there was something in his tone that made her think of sensual promises.
“I’m sure you’ll want to be clean for dinner. And later.” That dark tone in Arto’s voice continued to rob her of speech.
There was a knock on the door and Kyna entered. She stopped and looked at the two of them, wide-eyed and ready to retreat.
“Cella was saying how much she was looking forward to a bath.” Arto’s voice was suddenly back to his calm and pleasant timbre. He walked to the door to the hall and opened it. “Enjoy, little Sola.”
Several hours later found Cella alone in the bedroom. She had bathed and enjoyed an excellent meal with the party in the common room.
Cella was feeling quite relaxed as she sat curled into one of the chairs in front of the fire. She was clean, comfortable in her nightgown and robe, and enjoying a pot of tea. She cradled the cup in her hands, inhaling the steamy, somewhat exotic smell of the brew.
She heard the door open then close. Barely audible steps came across the carpet to the fire.
Cella’s heart rate increased and her body sprang awake.
“You look very comfortable, Cella.” Arto stood beside her chair and Cella looked up at him.
He appeared freshly bathed. His hair was damp and he was wearing loose trousers and a dark blue long sleeved shirt. His feet were bare and he smelled like soap. He crouched beside her.
“Well, sola, will you do me the honour of becoming my lover?” Arto picked up her hand and his thumb massaged her palm.
“Yes,” Cella breathed.
She had thought. She knew she couldn’t resist. She couldn’t resist his beautiful masculinity and strong, gentle personality. She couldn’t resist the incredible arousal that reared to life at his kisses and erotic promises.
She knew she had to go home in a year, but she wanted what he offered for whatever amount of time they had.
Arto shifted to kneel in front of her. He eased the cup out of her hand and set it aside.
Cella shivered at the look in his eyes. She could see desire for her, and there was something else as well. Maybe possessiveness?
Arto stretched forward and cupped the back of her head with his large hand and gently kissed her lips. His mouth was soft on hers, barely a brush, but it made lower lips suddenly slick. His hand trailed down her neck, the back of it moving lower and teasing her left nipple.
His arm snaked around her waist.
“Come to bed, Sola,” he whispered, pulling her out of the chair.
Cella’s legs were a little shaky as she stood and let Arto lead her to bed.
He stopped when his legs hit the edge of the turned-down covers. He dropped her hand to remove his shirt.
Cella couldn’t wait to get her hands on his chest. His light brown skin was covered in a smattering of dark hair that trailed down his abdomen, promising more to come. His muscles were sharply defined and Cella wanted to place her hand on him and see if his skin felt as good as it looked.
“Now you,” he murmured.
Arto pulled the belt that held her robe off and tossed it on the bed. He parted the folds of the dark blue material and slipped it off her shoulder. It fell to the ground with a slithery rustle revealing the lighter blue nightgown. The loose silk garment bared her shoulders and fell to mid-calf. The deep vee in the front was trimmed with a tiny bit of embroidery that served to highlight the swell of her breasts.
Arto went to one knee and his hands trailed up the back of her calves. His palms were hot on her skin. Up they travelled, catching the silk and pulling it with them as he stood again. His hands grazed her buttocks and kept pulling the material until Cella was forced to raise her arms to allow it to leave her body entirely.
She was bare.
“Beautiful. So beautiful.” Arto’s voice was deep and soft.
Cella still couldn’t speak.
This seduction was foreign to her. Her past couplings had been hasty fumblings under the covers in a dim room. This admiration of her body was new and she didn’t know how to respond to it.
“Thank you?” she responded, the politeness that had been drilled into her surfacing. She tilted her head as she looked up at him.
Arto smiled. He grabbed her head for another kiss. Then his arms swooped down to pick her up and set her down again in the bed. He didn’t immediately join her, and Cella started to rise.
Arto shook his head at her and she stilled. He shucked his trousers and Cella sucked in a sharp breath.
His erection was huge.
Larger than her last lover, than any man’s penis she had seen—not that she was a connoisseur. It stood up from the thatch of hair at its base, reaching almost to Arto’s navel. The head was darker than the shaft but it was difficult to see the colour in the low light from the fire behind him. His balls were tight to his body and a generous size as well.
“I’m glad you like what you see.”
Cella shut her mouth and looked up at Arto. He had a small, amused smile on his face.
“I’d be terribly hurt if you were unimpressed,” he continued in a lighter, teasing tone.
He crawled onto the bed. Cella involuntarily leaned back. She was suddenly too nervous to speak. What was he planning?
As if he could read her mind, Arto spoke. “Nothing terribly exotic will happen tonight, Sola. I’ll save the ropes and games for another time. Tonight, we’ll just get to know each other.”
Cella let out her held breath, realizing she was both relieved and disappointed. Part of her had deeply desired the mastery he had hinted at.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not in charge.” The soft, deep voice was back and she shivered.
Arto laid his body down on hers. They were skin to skin from collarbone to ankles. Cella moaned with the pleasure of it. The smell of the soap from the bathing room and the musky man-scent of Arto himself filled her nose.
He was warm, almost hot, against her, and his body hair tickled and scraped in the most delicious way. The strange combination of soft skin and ironlike hardness of his cock rubbed against her thigh. He was heavy on her, but obviously holding much of his weight on his own.
She felt pinned, trapped, and it was wonderful.
“Talk to me, Sola. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
Cella squirmed and the friction made her moan again. “You feel incredible. So…so manly. Hot. Hard.”
Arto made a rumbling sound that Cella interpreted as pleasure.
His arms caged her and his mouth lowered to her body. He licked his way over her collarbone and trailed his tongue down between her breasts.
Cella mewed and writhed, wanting him to move his attention from the valley between her breasts to the organs themselves.
“Ah-ah, little Sola,” chided Arto. “Put your hands above your head and keep them there.”
Cella did as she was told. His command and her compliance created more fire in her body.
Arto continued his exploration down her body and around her belly button. He headed back up, finally twirling his tongue around a nipple, then latching on. Cella gave a cry and bowed off the bed, her hands clenching in the sheets above her.
Arto alternated between one nipple and the other for a bit. Cella felt lost in the pleasurable sensations. She had never had anyone pay so much attention to her breasts and
she found them to be quite sensitive.
Every suck, lick, and nip made her pussy clench and beg to be filled. Forcing her hands to remain stretched above her heightened the experience, made her feel more vulnerable, and drove the physical sensations deeper into her body.
Just when Cella thought she could take no more, he slid further down.
Arto ran his hands up the inside of her thighs and parted her legs. She relaxed a bit, thinking now he would fill her pussy and give her the relief she needed so badly.
Instead he lowered his mouth to her slit.
Cella gasped.
She knew men and women did this to each other, but her previous lover had not. He was happy to have her suck him, but told her in no uncertain terms that he would never reciprocate.
Arto used his thumbs to spread her wide and licked from her anus to her clit. The lick reverberated through her body, she could feel it in her belly, her chest, her nipples, everywhere.
He swirled his tongue around her pussy, finding every inch of skin and tasting it. He suddenly stopped and Cella begged, “No.”
“Then put your hands back,” Arto commanded. And this was a command. A deep-voiced, calm, yet forceful order.
She realized she had let go of the sheets above and had grabbed his head.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, a little ashamed she hadn’t obeyed. Her hands went back to position.
Arto caressed her belly, a small smile on his face. “Do you need me to tie them in place?”
Cella moaned at that offer and she could feel moisture weep out of her pussy.
“I would assume that’s a yes, but I will hear it from your lips, Cella.”
“Yes,” Cella all but whimpered.
Arto knelt up and took the sash of her robe. He tied it loosely around her wrists and then to the rail of the headboard. “This is loose enough that you could escape if you wished, but it will remind you to keep your hands in place. We haven’t been together enough to completely restrain you yet, sola. That will come in time.”
