A new story for you lot. Have a plan to continue. Let me know what you'd like to see.
xx BrynnieB
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God above, I was going to kill her.
Of course, not literally. At least that's what I told myself as I hiked my skirts to my knees, my chest heaving against the restraints of the corset. Once again, my lady had called me in the middle of the night, interrupting what may have eventually been quite an adventurous tumble.
"Will you be back?" Tomas asked, pulling his britches up, precum leaking from his dick and staining his pants. "I was so close that time."
I walked over to him, planting a firm kiss on his kiss-swollen lips and patted his cheek. "Unfortunately, I was not close enough to want to come back tonight. Perhaps next time?"
A lopsided grin lit his shadow-cast face. "If you keep teaching me, Lucy, I'm sure I'll get you there someday.
I laughed, waving a hand over my shoulder before leaping over a fallen beam in the barn. "You're not winning any prizes with the amount of time that you're taking, love." I exited the barn, the cool air kissing my neck as I pulled at the straw that was still in my hair. Tomas tried, bless him. But no matter his ardent administrations to my nether regions, he never quite knew where or how to stroke. Not that I hadn't coached him at length. He simply wasn't a fast study. It was a pity. The broad planes of his chest and devilishly delicious stomach made me wet at the mere sight of him. But being wet is only half the battle.
"God, Lucy, you're a mess," Cressida said, looping her arm through mine as she led me at a quick pace on the dirt-trodden path leading to the manor house. Torchlight flickered from sconces ahead, joining the stars in a duet of light to guide them to the eerily quiet home. "But a mess that I'm constantly jealous of. If I wasn't promised to John, I'd..."
"You'd what?" I teased, pulling her close. "You should know pleasure before lying with your husband. That way you know when he's doing it wrong and how to help him get it right."
Cressida laughed, nodding at the two soldiers that stood sentinel at the large oak doors studded with iron, motioning for one of them to open it. "I suppose you may be right," she whispered, the patter of our footsteps echoing on the high ceilings of the entryway.
She moved to slip her arm out of mine, but I caught her wrist, pulling her in close for a hug. "Should you want an education, you know I'd be happy to oblige."
Cressida pulled back, her cheeks heating as she tucked a stray dark hair behind her ear. "And they say that only men can be rakes."
I leaned in, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek. "Whoever they are have never met me."
"Fair enough," she said. "Good luck with her--she's been a right pain this evening."
I headed to the base of the stairs, one hand resting on the railing before casting my buxom friend a longing gaze. "Sometimes pain blurs into pleasure, but I fear that shan't be the case here."
I gathered my skirts, feeling the eyes of the portraits of my lady's family casting their judgmental stares. A few days when my lady cared for a carriage ride, taking all her guards with her, I allowed Tomas to try to ravage me on these very stairs. I grinned at the memory; the bruise on my tailbone had only just begun to fade. He had been quite adamant with his thrusts, his golden curls sticking to his forehead as his mouth parted in ecstasy. When I left, my hand slipped between my wet folds, the scent of sex hanging in the air, and finished myself off. I had barely stood when the doors were thrown open, my eyes locking with my lady's in the doorway. I sometimes wondered if she smelled the taint of sex, if that's what made her eyes widen a fraction and her cheeks tinge pink.
My steps were muted on the plush running rug as I approached my lady's door, my nipples hardened against my garments from my vivid recollection. I was the best lover I've ever known. I lifted my dainty hand to the door, rapping my knuckle twice.
"Come in," came the gentle voice within.
The door opened effortlessly and I slipped inside, closing it tightly behind me. Despite the late hour, my lady had several candles lit and flickering, bringing an almost stifling warmth to the room. "My Lady," I said, dipping into a gentle curtsy before making my way to her bedside. "I hear something is the matter?"
Countess Isadora Jacqueline Catherine DuBount sat in her bed, blonde hair turned silver in the moonlight from the window. Her thin shift was damp, revealing the curve of her breasts and the hardness of her nipples. Exhausted blue eyes found me. "Lucy, I'm sorry to call you at such an hour, but I am unsure of what ails me."
I resisted sighing and looked at the bed. "May I?" I asked. I sat when she nodded, smoothing the blankets around me.
"I hope I didn't wake you," she said, glancing at my attire that was clearly not a night dress.
I raised a brow. "I was laying down, yes, but not sleeping."
She sucked in a plush rosy lip, chewing on it before nodding. "Either way, I thank you for coming. I know I've been a right nuisance these last few days."
I smiled. "Perhaps tonight we may find the cure for what ails you. This is the third night you've called me to your chambers in the middle of the night, but the previous two you didn't tell me what was wrong." I glanced at her hands that were worrying in the blanket on her lap. "You know I'm here to help you, my Lady. I'm quite good at listening."
Resolve crossed over her face. "Can we forgo formalities this evening? Please call me Isadora."
I laughed, glancing at the door. "Should anyone hear me speak so casually to you, I would get a lashing."
My lady--Isadora--rolled her eyes.
I blinked. I had never seen such a look from her.
"My men are at the door or in the barracks. Everyone else is in bed. And my little brother is away at boarding school. It's likely you and I and whatever maids stay awake at night to tend to my every whim." She tossed a hand toward the door. "But please, lock it if it would make you feel better about using my Christian name."
I gave a single shoulder shrug. "Where's the risk in that, Isadora?"
She shivered as though her name passing my lips was a caress on her skin. "Thank you," she whispered, pulling the blanket more tightly around her.
"You can thank me by telling me what ails you," I said, settling in and leaning against one of the four posters on her bed, my fingers working at the end of my chocolate-colored braid.
Isadora sighed. "I...I'm afraid I'm not entirely sure." The blush that rose in her cheeks reminded me of the one I stoked from Cressida moments before. "I feel...bothered. My skin is sensitive to the touch. I'm restless, and when I do fall asleep, I'm plagued with...dreams."
"Oh?" I asked, my interest peaked.
Isadora nodded emphatically, sitting up. "I'm feeling things I've never felt before in places I've..." she swallowed, her eyes flicking to mine before darting away. "In places I've never felt."
Holy trinity. "Where exactly, Isadora?"
Her eyes glazed with shame before she cleared her throat and pointed to the very spot I had begun to suspect. "How do I make it stop? Mercy, I just want to sleep."
Heat pooled in my core, igniting my arousal I had begun to feel with Tomas. "My lady," I said gently, "how old are you again?"
Isadora blinked. "I'm nearly one and twenty."
I swallowed. Just one year older than me and still so naïve to the world around her. Though this was unsurprising, considering she was raised by a solitary tutor in this very manor, her only exposure to people when her parents sent for her. But then they died and she inherited the title, much to the surprise of everyone around them. But the King allowed it. And thus she ruled--alone.
"Am I ill?" she asked, a small quiver in her voice. "Am I to die like my parents?"
"Oh no, not at all," I said, moving so that I sat closer to her, my hand reaching tentatively to one of hers. Her skin was smooth, unblemished with perfectly manicured nails. "What you're experiencing is quite natural and has an easy fix."
Isadora breathed a sigh of relief, her hand going to swipe away at a tear that leaked from the corner of her eye. "And what, pray tell, must I do?"
"Well." It was my turn to be uncomfortable. A female rake I may be, but my lady didn't know that. "It deals with sexual pleasure, if I may speak freely."
