CHAPTER TWELVE #2
Standing behind her, he slid the shift from her left shoulder and replaced it with his hand, his movements cautious, as if she were some small critter he dare not frighten.
The warmth of his hand upon her bare skin caused her heart to palpitate erratically.
His hand upon her was not new, but this time his touch intended not to soothe, but to excite.
He placed his other hand upon her right arm and pressed his mouth to the connecting shoulder.
With a pace that thrilled and agitated, he planted kisses along the shoulder, upon the nape of her neck, and between her shoulder blades, then up her neck, beneath her ear, and down the side of her throat, each one a delight gift that produced shivers within her. He pulled her other arm from her chest.
“We must do away with maidenly modesty here,” he said, sliding a hand down her arm as if savouring the texture of her skin.
The exposure of her body alarmed and excited her.
She could not stop the rise and fall of her bosom.
It drew his attention, and he passed a hand delicately over the brim of the shift where the swell began.
She watched his movement with heady anticipation and felt a dampness begin to form between her thighs.
His hand slid beneath the flimsy garment and cupped a breast. The nipple hardened beneath his firm grasp, stirring raucous sensations between her legs.
He kneaded the supple flesh, and a faint groan escaped her lips as the area beneath her navel grew in warmth and need.
She marveled at how acutely the stimulation of one part excited another seemingly unconnected part.
Circling an arm around her waist, he pulled her with him as he sat down upon the bed. He fitted her between his legs. Her rump touched his thigh. The closeness, the indecency enflamed her. With his chest at her back and his legs on either side of her, she felt surrounded by him.
His hands once more roamed her body. Her neck, shoulders, back and ribs all received notice.
And her breasts. This time he palmed them both, pushing the orbs together and pulling them apart, rolling them beneath his hands, squeezing them tenderly, then with demand, his touch graduating from worshipful to wanton.
Her breath grew shallow, and the intimate area between her legs throbbed.
He pinched and pulled a nipple. A current shot from its tip to that place betwixt her legs.
With his digits, he fondled and teased the little rosebuds.
Such delicious torment! She knew not whether to recoil or arch her breasts farther into his hands.
Withdrawing one hand while the other continued, he reached for her thigh.
Desire, raw and powerful, threatened to overwhelm any patience.
She wanted for him to complete the lesson and to hopefully sate the heat he had stoked within her.
His hand slid to the guarded side of her leg, to the apex of her thighs.
“I will touch you there,” he confirmed.
Yes, touch me there, she found herself urging.
He drew one thigh aside and she allowed him to insinuate his hand between her legs.
The shift proved no effective barrier as he began to rub her.
Rather, the friction of the fabric only added to the sweet agony.
She moaned, an expression of satisfaction and lament, for she foresaw the loss of control over her own body.
It would go its own way, dashing headlong into the dark and mysterious forest of lust.
Delving his hand beneath her shift, he pried open the plump lips that hid the most sensitive little nub, which he stroked with his finger.
With a gentle circling, he coaxed delicious ripples from that rosebud.
The sensations, far from superficial, penetrated a deeper part of her.
He lengthened his strokes and pressed a little harder upon her flesh.
Like the scratching of an itch, but of a more refined nature, the action soothed and excited.
All the muscles below her waist clenched, even those inside of her.
“Is this pleasurable?” he asked in a whisper.
She nodded with emphasis. The small, precious area between her thighs had become the world. He quickened his pace. Small gasps and grunts escaped her. How was it possible such simple caresses could wreak such havoc?
He slowed. “For tonight’s lesson, there are two things you must remember: you may apply your safety word at any time and you must not spend without my permission.”
Consumed by the lovely torment flaring through her body, she replied only with a “Hm?”
He paused his caresses. The absence of torture was worse. Rather than causing a recession of arousal, the unwanted respite lent greater poignancy to the delightful assault upon her.
“Did you fail to heed what I said?” he asked.
“If I did, you are partially to blame,” she replied. Her body neared panic, wanting him to resume his marvelous agitation.
He straightened. She grasped his hand before he pulled away completely.
“Your pardon,” she said quickly. “I did not mean to offend. Indeed, one could receive my comment as a compliment for you quite effectively distracted me.”
“Nevertheless, you must attend my every word. Failure to do so will result in punishment.”
She drew in a sharp breath, wondering what such punishment entailed?
“I will allow you an initial misstep as this is your first lesson, but hereafter, I will not repeat myself.”
“I understand that I am free to use my safety word whenever I wish.”
“Good. My second tenet is that permission shall always be required, for the submissive one, before spending.”
“And why is that?”
He seemed slightly taken aback, but she heard no impatience in his explanation.
“Because in agreeing to this arrangement, you grant me control of all that we do. Your body, your pleasure is all mine to command. It is a responsibility I assume with gravity and honor. Your only responsibility is to obey and satisfy me.”
“That is no small charge necessarily.”
“The less willful will deem it easy enough.”
She arched a brow, wondering if he accused her of being difficult?
“Let us see how apt a student you are,” he said, resuming his delicious ministrations.
The lovely torment flared throughout her body, causing her legs to tighten and her toes to curl. She strained against him. Without realizing it, she grasped his arm for support. The nectar of her desire soaked her shift. She began to pant.
For a while she exalted in the pleasurable torture as he strummed her body without slowing, without pause. Her cunnie pulsed. She prayed he would not cease until the rightful conclusion had been reached, but as the fire between her legs grew, an imminent loss of control threatened.
“May I spend?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
She furrowed her brow at the unwanted answer, but she did her best to comply. Yet it was no easy matter for he did not stop fondling her. The pleasure intensified, and she wondered that her legs could survive the wave of sensations emanating from her womanhood. Her legs twitched involuntarily.
“May I spend?” she tried again.
“No.”
She silently cursed him. She could do it if he would but stop his stroking. His fingers teased and strummed and pressed,
“Oh God,” she whimpered. The intensity was too much. Her body felt as if it was coiling within itself. Surely her body would hurl itself against the bedposts when all the tension released?
“May I spend? Please?” she tried again.
“No.”
She was too polite to glare at him, and it took all her concentration to suppress the euphoria threatening to erupt.
He aided her by abruptly desisting. She knew not which was worse: stemming the volcano of desire or being left bereft, dangling upon the precipice her body yearned to fall from.
“On your feet,” he directed.
Dazed, she had to collect herself and calm the riot inside her body before complying with his order. She watched him as he pulled the sash from the robe she had worn earlier.
“Present your wrists to me,” he said.
“My wrists?” she echoed.
“I mean to bind them.”
“For what purpose?”
“The restriction of movement frees you to concentrate upon other aspects of our engagement.”
“How is freedom gained from constraint?”
“Allow me to demonstrate and you shall understand."
Skeptical but intrigued, she held out her arms and allowed him to tie her wrists with the sash. He bound them—tightly—then looked upon her arms and hands as if in admiration. She followed his gaze and, to her surprise, found the simple visual provocative.
He took the sash off a curtain gracing the bed and stood before a bedpost. Though she knew not what he intended, she knew to go to him.
He pulled her wrists above her head and used the second sash to strap her to the bedpost. Her pulse quickened.
Thus tied, she could not defend herself.
She could not flee. She was at his mercy but for the word of safety, provided he chose to honor it.
Abigail would surely not place her in a harmful situation, but once again she wondered if was she foolish to place her complete trust in a woman whom she had known for less than a sennight?
“Your word of safety,” her instructor said. “Recall it.”
“Montreal.”
“You will not hesitate to use it?”
He sounded almost hopeful that she would.
“I will not,” she assured him.
He stood before her, and her nerves leaped at his nearness.
The warmth of his body called to the carnal in her.
How was it she could be so aroused by a man she barely knew?
When his hand returned once more to that area between her legs, it seemed her body had craved his touch for years.
He rubbed her through the shift, which quickly dampened further with her wetness.
She quivered. When she looked up, she found him staring at her.
His eyes possessed an intensity she had never before known in another being, and it made her breathless. She hoped he would kiss her again.