Through the tumult of pounding blood, she wrenched out an exasperated cry.
“Not yet, my princess. You can wait.”
Her nightdress was bunched at her waist, and he pulled it off her and down her legs, then removed her bra. A moment later he took her hands to the small of her back and tied them with what must be the night shift rolled up. It wasn’t perfect bondage, and she was sure she could get free with determination, though if she did, he would surely do as he’d threatened and spank her. Which… she would like to try, to see if he would. But not today, not now. Not when he’d stuck his fingers into her and was pumping them in and out.
The sounds were those of debauchery, of fucking. More learning. She liked these dirty lessons.
He turned her over again and slid down her body, biting her breasts while he held them, kissing, licking her navel, until he travelled his bites over the mound of her sex, with his hands gripping her hips. He buried his mouth on her below, licking and sucking at her clit and lower, at her pussy. He seemed to enjoy it, though she must be slick with her own juices.
His fingers held her open.
Soon she was also soaked from where his tongue had probed, and her thighs felt wet.
That her hands were captive under her back pushed her sex higher, so he could get at her more easily.
It made her vulnerable.
Which she adored.
Every soft, wet probing at her clit, every time she tried to move her hands and could not, she quivered and moaned, and was shocked at the noises he wrought from her. An orgasm was building, and nothing she could do or say would stop him.
Then he carefully wormed a second finger into her and seemed to concentrate on sucking and moving his tongue in just the right spot. The repetition slayed her. She arched into the oblivion of climax. She was still shuddering, mind shattered, when he spread her, inserted his cock into her, and shoved her legs high, with his hands under her knees. He began to plow her in earnest.
She gasped, mouth opening wide, at the penetration as he drove his cock all the way into her in one slow, well-lubricated thrust.
There was some stinging pain from the stretch, there was also an unexpected and splendid sensitivity in her pussy that made every move of cock extract a cry from her. He rocked into her, slapping harder and harder, fingers and thumbs digging into her thighs, under her knees.
When he shoved himself deep and jetted his come into her, her legs were at her ears. Her legs were jelly, her breathing wrecked. The feel of this. Of being taken.
Done… done. Her panting seemed loud enough to wake the whole caravan, sweat beaded, and the pair of them were one hot sweaty mess.
“There, now you are mine, princess.” His kiss before he freed her was as sweet and possessive as any, only more… something.
Perhaps because he’d made her his.
He untied her and she flopped, muscles weak, curling on her side, feeling everything over and over in her memory.
Not true love, her mind insisted as he snuggled in behind her, spooning while their hearts ran down to something like normal.
No, she told herself. Not true love. She would call this true lust and that was fine, that was more than fine. She found his hand and brought it to her mouth to lick his finger, then she put it inside her mouth. Even his fingers were big. He tasted good. Of man and of their recent sex.
John chuckled against her neck and let her.
Later on, she turned over and with her head against his chest, listening, she distinctly heard a heartbeat. “I can hear your heart again.
“No you don’t.”
Well then, he was wrong about that.
The caravans travelled onward.
She sat on the driver’s bench next to John and after only a few minutes edged nearer, until their bodies rocked against each other. He drew her to him, kissed her hair, her lips, and kept his arm around her.
She sighed and leaned into him. There was a warmth in this. Companionship, attraction, and a new kind of happiness.
Only now that she had recovered from the blissful climax of sex, the reverberations of her behavior were bothering her again.
What if…
“I admit,” she began, “That my behavior bothers me.” She was used to advisors, but the only person she had available to ask was John, and he was certainly not innocent or impartial when it came to the subject. “Now that we have done it, properly.” It? Oh my, this was not coming out well. “I wonder if Xander would approve.”
John had been listening, but she couldn’t tell his thoughts and he was silent for a while.
“I admit I too have wondered. I think it best we wait until Xander can answer. It is done. I have taken you to bed, tied you up, spread your legs…” She poked him in the back and cleared her throat. His next words reeked of amusement. “Made you squeal in orgasmic delight, which was entirely fun, fucked you—” She poked him harder, and felt herself blushing, even though no other person could have heard. “And you agreed to it all. We will wait. Keep poking me, and I will upend you and spank your naked butt here, on this seat in full view of anyone who looks.”
Muttering small curses a princess was allowed, she desisted, and yet also felt an indecent pleasure at his threat. She really must figure out why that attracted her.
“Good.” He squeezed her shoulder.
