The Warrior and the Petulant Princess (22 page)

“I am, it was divine, I needed it so badly,” she sighed.

“Then dry yourself off and I will be waiting on my bed.”

“Thank you, Larian,” she smiled. “Will you help me so I won’t slip? This is such a large tub.”

“Of course,” he said, and gripping her upper arm he helped her to her feet, then added, “I think I shall soak for a moment myself while you dry off. Lock the chamber door and lay on my bed, hands above your head so you won’t be tempted.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said reaching for a large absorbent cloth the housekeeper had left her.

“Wait,” he said as he lowered himself down. “I’d rather you wait for me on your knees and elbows.”

Lizbett paused, picturing how she would appear, and a hot blush began to cross her face.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Did you say, knees and elbows?”

“I did, and your face in a pillow.”

“But, uh…”

“Do I need to add to the list?”

“NO, no, Sir, I shall wait as you ask.”

As she padded from the anteroom he broke into a smile.

The list. I am so glad it occurred to me. I must share it with Uncle next time I see him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

L
izbett was mortified. She’d been waiting on her knees and elbows with her head buried in a pillow just as he’d instructed, but the thought of how she must look was burning her face.

Why does he want me like this? It’s so…open. I’m so open. He’ll see all of me in a very…open way.

“What a good girl you are.”

She hadn’t heard him approach, and while she found his praise comforting it wasn’t enough to alleviate her hot embarrassment, but when his hand dropped underneath her torso to gently squeeze each of her breasts it helped, and as his soft caress continued she found herself thinking more about his warm, tantalizing fingers than her lewd pose.

“Is this position difficult for you?” he purred.

“Yes, very,” she managed.

“But you did it anyway. That pleases me, Lizbett, I’m proud of you.”

“Th…thank you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do this to make you uncomfortable, though I knew you would be. I asked you so you’d have an opportunity to please me in spite of how it felt, and you did. This makes me very happy.”

She sighed, then moaned, and as he climbed on to the bed behind her she let out a small whimper.

“Yes, Lizbett, I can see all of you, and every part of you is beautiful.”

Hearing another whimper he smoothed his palm over her backside. Its fading marks suggested the acute soreness had passed, but he assumed there’d be some residual tenderness. Placing his hands on her cheeks he fondled and gently pinched, bringing the blood to the surface, then traveling his hands to her legs he stroked her inner thighs, then squeezed her skin just enough to tantalize.

“Ooh, Sir.”

“You are starting to feel better,” he said softly, spying her tell-tale wetness.

“A bit,” she whimpered.

Moving his hands to the pink folds he tenderly separated them and touched his finger to the entrance of her trough; he was rewarded with a bleating moan and a wriggle.

To view her charms in the light of day, completely naked and so utterly exposed sent his cock surging to attention, and taking it firmly in his hand he placed it where his finger had just touched.

“You are tight and small,” he murmured. “I’ll have to play with you each day so you will be ready for our first night as husband and wife.”

“As you wish, Sir,” she mewled, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“The sight of you, Lizbett, it takes my breath away. You are divine, absolutely divine.”

Keeping his cock at her entrance he moved his fingers to her sweet nut and gently rubbed; she immediately turned her head to the side, gasping with delight.

“Thank you, thank you,” she breathed, and wriggled again, dislodging his cock from its resting place.

Just as well. If she opened up it would be very difficult not to press home and she’s not ready. I must work her.

“Lizbett, move your hand against your nugget. I want to see you rub it.”

“You do? But I thought-”

“I’m instructing you to,” he said continuing to massage it himself. “I will enjoy watching.”

Lifting her hand she moved it underneath her body, and when her fingers touched his a spark of heat flooded her loins.

“Sir,” she breathed, “to feel your fingers upon me and to touch them with mine, it makes me tingle.”

“Massage, Lizbett, massage freely.”

He watched her fingers circle and knead, and dropping the hand that had been fondling her cheek he began rubbing himself, but allowed the indulgence for only a few moments.

Shifting his focus back to his more important task he inserted his forefinger into her narrow, moist channel; though long and thick his finger fit her perfectly, and he began to frig her, rhythmically pushing it in and sliding it out

As he increased the tempo he saw that her fingers followed suit; she was moaning and wriggling, all thought of her salacious exposure having been swept away by her craving need. To his delight her slippery juices began to flow, and presenting a second finger he carefully pushed forward; her soaked trough opened and accepted, and feeling a rush through his loins he felt his cock wanting to burst.

“Oh, Lizbett,” he growled, “you are such a passionate, hungry girl.”

His words and the thickness of his two fingers thrusting into her channel sent a wash of energy coursing through her, and without thought she bucked her bottom, and unabashedly cried out her need.

“Please, Sir, do it harder, faster.”

Quickly shifting to her side he wrapped his arm across her hips, and plunging his fingers forward he let caution fly and frigged aggressively.

“Yes, oh, I love it, I love it,” she wailed.

“Head into the pillow, cry and scream if you must, but into the pillow,” he said urgently, worried the servants might hear her.

“More,” she whispered, “harder and more.”

Overjoyed he pumped with hard, slow, forceful strokes, and a moment later he received his reward; she pushed back against his hand, released a low howl, and her walls pulsed against his fingers.

Quickening the thrusts he milked her moment, giving her as much pleasure as the climax could offer. She bucked and uttered her cries of joy as the spasms fired, until, with a last gasp, she dropped her hand from her sex and moaned her bliss. Slowly withdrawing his fingers, but keeping his arm around her hips, he fondled her bottom cheeks.

“Sir,” she whimpered.

“Stay as you are,” he said softly, “I love looking at you this way.”

He smoothed his hand over her luscious curves as he stared at the saturated, bright pink flesh between her thighs, and gazed fondly at her most private part nestled between her proud, round cheeks, then slowly returned to his position directly behind her.

“I am going to erupt over your lovely bottom,” he purred, “then we can both return to the soaking tub and wash each other.”

“Mmm,” she mumbled, still lost in the afterglow of her moment.

Gripping his cock he massaged fervently, admiring all she had to offer. He could almost feel the hot tightness of her trough, and wondered how he could wait ten passes of the moons before taking it. Gazing at her tight puckered hole he felt a surge of energy when he thought about how he would train her there, and that was his last thought before his life essence rose up and squirted over her cheeks. As he watched the cream dribble into her crack, he couldn’t resist the temptation, and dropping his finger he lightly followed it, whispering across her tiny button.

She made a strange sound but didn’t move, and taking it as a final, wonderful, encouraging moment, he fell beside her and opened his arms. Sighing happily, she lowered her body on to the bed and rolled on her side, pressing against him.

“We’re both naked,” she sighed.

“We are.”

“Is that allowed before our wedding night?”

Sitting up slightly he looked around the room, then flopped back down.

“I don’t see anyone here to arrest us,” he said solemnly.

The comment sent her giggling and she covered her face with her hands, then dropped them away.

“You know what I mean.”

“I am the Master of his house, and I am the Master of you and this glorious body of yours, so if I say it’s allowed, then it’s allowed. Plunging my cock into you though, that must wait.”

“We’ve done everything else, why should we wait?”

“Oh, Princess, we certainly have not done everything else, not at all.”

“Really?”

“Really, and some of it I’m saving.”

“I don’t think I can wait,” she moaned.

“If I can wait, you can wait, and we both will. Are you ready to get back in the tub?”

“No, not yet. Can we lay here for just a few more minutes? I love being this way. I feel so close to you.”

Sighing contentedly he closed his eyes and enveloped her.

“Larian, you were right about Falayla. Of course I should ask her. It was childish of me not to think so.”

“Good girl,” he purred, “you are growing up.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

T
hey had enjoyed a playful time in the large soaking tub, had taken a wander through the grounds, and it was just after their evening meal, when both suns had set and the moons were beginning their ascent, when Larian looked across the table at her and wearily announced he was retiring for a full night of Zinyana. Taking his arm Lizbett walked with him to the door of his bed chamber and leaned her head against his chest.

“How will I get through tonight alone, and the many nights ahead until our wedding?” she sighed.

“I believe, Lizbett, the time will be taken very quickly with all the preparations. Tomorrow we must send out the notices, so tonight you must make your list of those you wish to attend. Keep it very small, we cannot accommodate a large group, but when things are settled we can have a grand reception in Verdana if you would like it.”

“I don’t much care,” she said honestly, “but I believe my father will require it.”

“As will my Prince in Zanderone,” he said. “I have my guest list in my head, so when I wake as the East sun rises I will send out the messengers. Leave your list in the drawer of my desk in case you’re not yet awake.”

“I just thought of something, where are we going to put father and mother? There are only two other bedrooms besides mine.”

“Tomorrow we will go through all this. Rest assured the answers are there. Now I must restore my body. I can feel it is drained and my mind is weary.”

“Goodnight, Larian. I shall be with you as you sleep.”

“Goodnight, Lizbett, as I will be with you.”

He kissed her warmly, then she watched him as he disappeared into his bed chamber, and stood almost sadly as she heard the click of the lock.

The house was quiet, and walking to his study she moved around the ornate desk given to him by the Prince, and sat down in the large animal hide chair.

Finding a paper and writing implement she began to make the list, crossing out names as she wrote them, finally ending with only three; Father, Mother, Tholl. She felt a lump in her throat. She had no friends. There were plenty of women who tittered around her but she could see right through them; they were only with her because she was the Princess and they wanted to bask in the glory of her position and power.

I suppose I haven’t been much fun to be around. I was always angry about something, or with someone. That’s all going to change now, I can feel it.

Folding the paper in half she placed in the top drawer, then had a thought, and pulling out a fresh sheet she started a note.

Dear Falayla:

Without your courage my wedding to Lord Larian Lobergene would not be taking place. You are just a young village maiden. What it must have taken for you to go against the will of someone as powerful as the Head Of The Court. How can such a debt be repaid?

I would be honored and humbled if you would agree to be my attendant at the wedding. If you accept you will be brought here by a castle carriage, and be accommodated at Lord Lobergene’s house.

I await your response.

Most sincerely,

Princess Lizbett Of Verdana

Feeling immensely satisfied with her letter she folded it and placed it in the drawer next to the list for Larian to find in the morning, then feeling unexpectedly tired she made her way to her bed chamber.

She changed into her nightdress, thinking how pleasant it was not to have her simpering servant fussing around, and slipping between the coverlets she closed her eyes with the image of Larian asleep in his bed just down the hall. It was comforting, but still she missed him, she missed him dearly.

When she arrived at the dining hall the following morning the house was already busy. The table was laden with food, and from the windows she could see the gardeners were working hard. The housekeeper informed her Larian was in his study and had been awaiting her arrival to join her.

“I will tell him you’re here,” she said formally, then curtsied and hurried away; a moment later, when he appeared, her heart leapt and her flippity flip jumped in her stomach.

“It is so good to see you,” she beamed.

“Good morning, Princess,” he smiled kissing her on her brow.

“Good morning, my Lord, or should I say, good morning, Commander, or good morning Warrior Of The First Order?”

“You’re feeling cheeky this morning.”

“No more than usual, well, perhaps a little, and I’m definitely feeling hungry…in more ways than one,” she added with a wink and a whisper.

“I see,” he grinned. “As to your question, good morning great one on high who spanks with a very hot hand, would be acceptable.”

She laughed out loud and playfully punched him, then sitting down they began to eat, and he praised her note.