by Morgan Henry
He pulled his sola to him and surrounded her little body with his arms. Such a soft, fragrant woman. He heard the rustle of the silk of her gown, but he wanted to hear her moans as he touched her skin instead.
“Are you ready for some more sexual play tonight, sola? If you are not, just say so, there is no penalty for wishing to cuddle or even sleep alone instead.” Arto tried to keep his voice gentle and neutral, but he desperately wanted her to say yes.
“I would very much like to see what delights you have in store for me, your Grace,” Cella’s voice somehow managed to be ladylike-proper yet hint of erotic promise. How do women manage to modulate their voices like that?
“Then come to my room after you change into your nightgown. Wear nothing underneath.” He gave her a little smack on her delightful ass and she giggled as she headed to change.
Arto hurried to his own bedchamber and quickly stripped out of his clothes, putting on a pair of soft black linen pants instead. He shoved the clothes at Tors and told the man to leave him alone until morning. Tors winked as he exited the room.
Arto pulled out a few of the purchases he had made in town earlier in the day. They were stashed where he could easily get his hands on them when the time came.
His pants were well and truly tented now.
Calm down, he willed himself. This is the time for you to be in control, to be calm and patient with Cella. She needs you to be focused on her. She needs you to help her discover what her needs are.
He took several deep breaths and felt more centred.
Until he looked up and the breath whooshed right out of his lungs.
Hair tumbled down around her face, bare footed, and with a half-smile on her face, she untied the belt of her dark blue dressing gown. The heavy material parted to reveal her naked body.
Arto swallowed. “I thought I told you to wear a nightgown,” he noted.
“I thought you might like this better.”
“You disobeyed my instructions.”
“Does that earn me a spanking?”
The minx. He strode over to her and captured her hair in his large hand. He tilted her head back and looked into her eyes. “That is the submissive trying to control her dominant’s actions. If either of us desired a more formal D/s relationship, instead of bedroom games, you would be punished. Not with a spanking, since you seem to desire it, but with something you would not enjoy. Perhaps being denied orgasm? Or any sexual pleasure for the evening?”
She gasped and he could see that she realized how she had erred. The teasing little smile left her face and the worry lines across her brow appeared. His little Cella did like to please.
Arto softened his tone. “Fortunately for you, we haven’t had time to establish how much or how deeply we want to delve into this side of sexuality.”
The little smile returned to Cella’s face and her eyes brightened. “So we will still be together?”
“Yes, but you won’t get your spanking tonight.”
She pouted and gave him a coy look over her lashes. It made him laugh. On any other woman, it would have looked fake or contrived, but on her it was fun.
And that is truly what he wanted in a wife. A woman who would enjoy playing and exploring a variety of sexual games, and who was not deeply, completely submissive but had her own ideas and interests. A wife who would support and partner with him and understand the demands of nobility.
Wait, wife?
No, lover is what he meant to think. She was an ideal lover. All the things he had just thought about, and gone in a finite amount of time.
He turned his attention back to his lover.
“Are you ready to engage in some more intense experiences tonight, sola?”
“Yes, most definitely.”
“Do you remember what we spoke of? What is your word that will make everything stop?”
“Marta.”
Arto had to laugh again. “Quite the choice.” He released her hair and brushed his lips across hers.
“What’s your word?”
Another bark of laughter from him. “I don’t have one, I’m the dominant in this, remember?”
“But you said you had limits, too.”
“I do. But do you want to talk about them, or do you want to get on the bed?”
Cella let the robe fall away and scampered onto the bed. She knelt in the middle, watching him eagerly. Her pink mouth was parted slightly and her breasts rose and fell as she breathed a little harder with anticipation.
Arto looked her body over. He knew how soft her pale skin was and he ached to worship it. Her lush curves made his cock twitch. She had generous breasts that overflowed his hand, hips that flared out from her waist, and an ass that was a gift from the goddess.
He loved her ass.
He couldn’t wait to take her from behind and hold onto her hips, but most of all he couldn’t wait to claim her tiny rosette and make her scream with pleasure as she climaxed with his cock deep in her dark passage.
Arto retrieved one of the extra-long silk scarves. He walked over to the bed and held out a hand to her.
Cella looked at his hand and smiled at him as she placed her wrist in his palm. God and Goddess, that trust of hers was heady stuff.
He carefully tied her wrists together, checking to make sure the bonds were snug but not restricting. The silk was so soft there was nothing to abrade her skin.
“Lay back,” her murmured to her as he climbed on the bed. She did and he stroked over her shoulders, massaging and kneading them, then down her arms to her wrists. Pulling her arms over her head, he attached the silk to the headboard.
Arto pulled her body down until her arms had limited mobility, but weren’t stretched to discomfort. “How are you, Cella? You won’t be able to get free from these bonds like you did with the ties at the inn.”
“I’m fine,” she breathed, eyes closed and face relaxed.
“Fine? Is that an acceptable answer?” Arto looked down into her face, his brow furrowed.
Cella’s eyes shot open. “I mean, it feels…good? They don’t hurt in any way and somehow they make me feel, um.” She paused, then whispered, “aroused.”
Arto trailed his finger down her arm and she shuddered with pleasure. “Aroused is good.” His voice was deep and husky, the anticipation of what he would do with her almost overwhelming him.
He pulled a large, firm pillow from the side of the bed. “Lift up,” he commanded, helping raise her bottom with his hand. He stuffed the pillow under her ass, raising her cunt off the bed a good ways.
Cella’s face revealed her struggle with this new level of exposure. She blinked and her mouth twisted to one side. Her face and upper chest pinked, the flush beautiful against her pale skin. She wiggled her lower body.
Arto chuckled, a touch of wicked intent in the sound.
He retrieved two more long silk scarves and showed them to Cella. She stopped wiggling, her brow slightly creased in her confusion. He knew she was thinking that her hands were already tied, but was inexperienced enough that she didn’t know where he would put them.
She was still confused when he fastened one around each thigh. Her blue eyes went wide as ponds when he fastened the first thigh to the side of the bed and she realized he would spread her wide for his pleasure.
Watching her response closely, Arto was pleased when he saw a little dribble of moisture escape from her cunt lips as he tied the second sash into place. His little sola was quite happy to be helpless.
He would still check, though. “Cella, you can’t escape these unless you use your stop word. What is your word?”
“Marta,” she breathed, her voice a tone deeper.
“Do you want to use it now?”
“No, I want you to…”
Arto waited. “Tell me what you want,” he finally demanded, balancing on one arm as he loomed over her body. He lowered his lips to her ear. “Say the naughty words, Cella. Use the language that you would never use at court.”
�
�I want you to fuck me,” escaped her lips in a breathy rush.
“Very good. I will, but not yet.”
Her little mew of disappointment was like a striker sending sparks all over his cock. When was the last time he had come in his pants? Years, he knew, but his want for Cella just about made him spill right then.
“Close your eyes.”
Arto started at her temple. He placed his thumbs in the centre and stroked out toward her ears, his touch firm. He rubbed over her cheekbones next, then down her neck with his hands. He stroked down her sides and over her belly, but avoided her breasts. He massaged his way down her hips, sliding over her pelvic bones and down each leg. He went down her limbs and back up again until he was back at her temple.
He knew she would be a wonderful, terrible combination of relaxed and deeply aroused. He hadn’t touched her breasts or her pussy and they would be aching.
Cella let out a long moan. “Please, Arto.”
Damn it, he was enjoying this more than he had in a long time. All through dinner, he had marvelled at what a delightful creature she was. Smart, funny, honest, and genuine. Now, to have her trusting him enough to let him render her immobile and do what he wished, he felt like his heart was three sizes too big for his chest. He was awed, humbled, and, he realized, would do just about anything to keep her trusting him like this.
Arto leaned over and sucked one nipple into his mouth.
That got him a little scream and her body flexed, trying to bow off the bed.
He pinched the other and was rewarded with a garbled cry.
Arto settled down and worshipped her pale globes for a few minutes. Long enough to turn her nipples from rose petal pink to deep raspberry. When he thought he had enough, he moved lower.
Watching her sex pulse and twitch with undisguised eagerness sent another shower of sparks over his cock. He had enough and shucked his pants, freeing the organ. The cooler air of the room did nothing to ease his hard on, not that he had expected it to.
Arto leaned over the edge of the bed and retrieved more of his newly purchased items.
He silently set them down. Cella’s eyes were still closed.
Arto ran a finger up one side of her lips and down the other. Another moan and a fresh gush of fluid from this gentle touch. He curled his fingers into a fist, but left the second knuckle of one finger protruding. He rubbed this up and down the entrance to her pussy in long, smooth strokes. Neither slow nor fast, the rhythmic semi-invasion was enough to get Cella begging.
“Please, Arto! Please! I need you inside me,” she almost sobbed.
* * * *
“Not yet, sola,” came the infuriating answer.
Cella thrashed her head in frustration, but kept her eyes closed.
She was in sweet agony. The restraints left very little room for any movement, though her body fought to be free, to at least get that finger inside of her.
The fact that she couldn’t move, that all she could do was feel, was the decadent drizzle of chocolate on top of the already heavenly dessert.
The finger eased away and drifted down to her anus. Arto dragged the wetness from her pussy with it and he swirled the slick lubrication around her rosette.
“Do you remember our talk about anal sex?” Arto’s voice was sinfully deep and rich, sliding into the nooks and crannies of her soul.
“Yes.” Oh Goddess yes, she remembered. The thought scared her a little, but excited her a great deal more. Yet another facet to her sexuality that she never would have thought to explore on her own.
“Do you remember that we spoke of preparing you?”
“Yes.”
That finger slowly breached her anus, popping though the resistant ring of muscle then holding still.
It didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt good. Strange, but good.
If the restraints hadn’t prevented it, Cella would have tried to fuck herself on the intrusive digit.
“I bought a set of toys for you today.” Oh, the dark promise in that rich voice. “I’m going to insert one in your ass and make you come. Then I’m going to fuck you, Cella.”
“Oh, yes, please.” When had she ever begged like this? The niece of the Vizier never begged. Yet, here she was, pleading with her lover to put a toy up her ass and fuck her.
It felt wonderful.
The finger exited her ass, only to be replaced with something hard and rather cool.
“This is a plug, sola, a very well lubricated plug. It will get wider, then narrow down before it flares into a flat base. It will stay seated in your fine ass until I take it out.”
Cella could feel the plug slowly advancing into her ass. Arto would push it forward, then retreat just a little and hold still. As he did this, he would brush his tongue slowly over her clit. The dual stimulation prevented the burn from the plug breaching her ass to bother her too much, but she still whimpered as the widest part pushed its way inside.
As soon as it was in, Arto went to work on her pussy, licking and sucking, all the while jiggling the plug in her anus. It was short work to release the orgasm that had been looming inside her. The pleasure flooded through her like the tide, swirling through every part of her body and mind, sweeping her with the rushing pleasure.
When she was able to breathe normally again, she cautiously opened one eye, then the other.
Arto was between her legs. He had released her thighs and was holding them in his large hands as he watched her through heavy lidded eyes. His large cock bobbed with the beat of his heart, the head a deep magenta and weeping fluid.
She watched him move to her side, curious about what he would do next.
He leaned down and slid his arms underneath her body. “I’m going to turn you over,” he said, and her world whirled.
She was on her belly, that firm pillow still under her so her ass was in the air. He hadn’t released her arms.
Cella heard a low rumble that sounded like pleasure as Arto spread her legs for him again. She wondered what she looked like, spread wide in the air, plug in her bum, and stretched out in restraints.
She cried out as he licked her pussy. Her clit was still extremely sensitive This time she could get some purchase with her legs and she involuntarily jerked away.
She heard him chuckle, that wicked promise of a sound, and his hand grasped her hips.
“I can’t wait any longer, Cella. I need you, my sweetness. Need you hard and fast, can you take that?”
Take it?
Desperately wanted it was the truth.
“Yes, please. Hard and fast, please, take me.”
Cella screamed as he plunged his cock into her. She was slick with the fluids from her orgasm, but she was still swollen and the combination of that, his large cock, and the plug, was the most exquisite sensation of pleasure and stretching burn that she had ever known.
“Cella!” barked Arto. “Answer me! Have I hurt you?” It sounded as though he was speaking through clenched teeth.
“No. Not hurting. So good, please.” She couldn’t form sentences anymore.
Her words released him and Arto pounded into her. With each hard thrust, the plug moved inside her and wound something deep inside tighter. Arto’s hands were clamped on her hips, holding her immobile as he plunged in and out.
One hand let go of her hip and he bent forward to rub her clit. The combination of pressure on the nub, the altered angle of his penetration, and his pelvis forcing the plug deeper into her released the orgasm that had been building.
This one was stronger. It was like a herd of horses galloping down every nerve pathway from her pussy outward and back again. It thundered and shook her body as a herd would shake the ground they trampled, leaving her sweetly pummelled.
She dimly heard Arto roar his release and felt his cock jerk inside her, the sensation amplified by the pressure of the plug. Next came his ragged, panting breath as he eased out and quickly released her wrists.
He dragged her off the pillow, into his arms, kissing her between the
ir gasping lungfuls of air. He made short work of releasing the silk bonds, rubbing her wrists and arms, and massaging her shoulders.
She caressed his muscled chest, winding her fingers in and out of the crisp hairs and playing with his flat nipples. The scent of their sweat mingled with the muskier smell of sex in the room.
Arto’s hand wandered to her buttocks and grasped the plug. “Push out,” he ordered as he slid the hard object free.
Cella moaned again. “Now I feel empty.”
“And I miss your tight, wet pussy.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I should clean you up. Clean us both up, really.”
“I don’t want to move.”
“We’ll both feel better, I promise.”
With that, he eased out of bed and carried her to the bathing chamber. A warm tub awaited her, and Arto gently but efficiently bathed her. She tried to bat his hands away, but he would have none of that. He pulled her hand to his heart and held it there, looking into her eyes and stating, “I need this.”
What could she say to that? She gave up and let him bathe and dry her, sitting on an ottoman afterward as he bathed himself quickly. It was a good place to admire the body that had loved her so thoroughly just minutes before.
He slung his robe on and picked her up again, depositing her on the bed and pulling the covers over her. She settled into the soft bed and heard him picking up the variety of toys he had used on her. When the mess was tidied to his satisfaction, he slipped in beside her.
Arto pulled her against his body, her back to his front, and she was surrounded by his warmth and scent. It was so comforting, so safe, that she fell asleep immediately.
As she slid into dreamland, the thought crossed her mind that giving this up in a year would be terrible.
Chapter 13
It was a rest day in Kerban.
Cella decided to visit the large common area adjacent to the gardens in the Keep. This was apparently where the various nobles gathered to socialize. Though many had other duties that kept them occupied during regular working days, the rest day would allow most to put in an appearance.
She had mixed feelings about going to the large salon.
