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Terin's Pleasure Dinner with the rest of the guests was quite pleasant and enjoyable, as usual. The guests occupying quarters in the castle were growing daily. That was always gratifying to see. As Maxwell leaned over her right shoulder to pour another glass of wine, she whispered in his ear. Terin toyed with her wineglass and only sipped from it occasionally. Her thoughts were elsewhere. After dinner, while the others took their pleasures elsewhere, Maxwell escorted Terin from the dining room. Winding their way through the castle, their destination being her private quarters and the man she left bound there, her senses and desires were heightened by Maxwell's mere presence a few inches behind her and to her right. He stepped around her, reaching out to open her bedchamber door, allowing her the right to enter first. Terin smirked at the sight that greeted her. The man was slumped in the chair, apparently asleep. Well that would soon change. The door closed with a soft thud. The sound of her heels as she walked across the floor startled the man awake. She stopped in front of him. She watched as his eyes blinked a few times. His hazy, sleep ridden look met her clear one. A small smirk crossed her lips, turning up one corner as awareness seeped back into his consciousness. Maxwell stepped behind Terin and began unlacing her dress. With a gentle shrug, the top of the dress fell in gentle layers around her hips. The captive watched as Maxwell's capable hands slid around Terin's body, cupping her breasts. They swelled in his palms. Her nipples hardening to tight nubs of pointed pleasure. His fingers grasped them, pulling them slightly outward. Her captive watched silently. His tongue slid across his bottom lip, wetting it. His eyes watched Maxwell's hands as they slid over her full breasts, down slowly along her exposed midriff. He watched as the set of masculine hands gathered the material of her gown and slid it off her hips, letting it fall to the floor at her feet. Maxwell's palms slid slowly back up the outer side of her thighs and across her lower abdomen, his fingertips just minutely away from her womanly slit. Her captive's eyes narrowed as he watched Maxwell pull her back against his frame... watched as she undulated her lower body into the cavity between Maxwell's legs. ...watched as her legs parted to accommodate Maxwell's hand....watched as a finger slid into the Lady...watched as the man's mouth slid along the side of her neck and his free hand returned to cup a full breast. Raising her arm, crooking it, Terin's fingers slid into the thick hair at the back of Maxwell's head. This served to arch her breasts higher, making them taut. The naked man, secured to the chair before them, licked his lips again. His eyes glazed over and narrowed with lust and desire. His staff rose between his legs, hard and pulsing. Terin's hand slid down the top of Maxwell's, her palm coming to rest on top of his, the one pressed between her legs. The slightest pressure from her palm, pressed his finger deeper inside her and her pelvic region arched into their joined palms. Moving her head sideways so that it rested on Maxwell's shoulder, Terin tilted her head back, urging his lips downward to lie upon her own. Her mouth opened beneath the onslaught of his. They stood thusly for a moment before Maxwell's finger slipped from her body and he picked her up, placing her prone on the end of bed, leaving her feet to dangle over the edge. He slipped to his knees between her spread thighs, his hands spreading her wider as his mouth lowered to lie claim to her other lips as well. Terin's hands cupped her own breasts, squeezing them, tugging on her own nipples as Maxwell pleasured her with his mouth and tongue, his hands lifted her legs, draping them over the top of his shoulders. The only view her captive had was Maxwell's firmly muscled back and her lower legs. However, there was no doubt in his mind what was happening to the Lady of the Castle. It seemed to last forever to the captive, but was in truth merely only moments, before Maxwell stood, backing away from the Lady. Her captive barely noticed Maxwell's leaving or that he had moved to stand behind the tied man in the chair. The captive's eyes were on the Lady and the image she presented him. She hadn't moved since Maxwell left her. Her legs lay on the coverlet of the bed, still spread, affording him a view of her arousal. Languidly she rose up, her eyes locking with those of the captive man. Sliding from the bed, her own eyes narrowed, she moved across the room, dressed much as she was when they had first started. Reaching out, she grabbed a handful of her captive's hair at the back of his head, yanking his head back as she did so. Her own head lowered, nipping none too gently at his bottom lip before her mouth slid down the side of his neck, nipping there also. She straddled his seated body, her own lowered, until her woman's softness rubbed against his hardness. She could feel him pulse against her, his hips arching forward, his solidity desperately seeking to find haven in her inner sanctuary. Her soft, silky lower lips rubbed up and down his firmness, spurring him into deeper depths of lust. His own mouth sought to latch onto the vulnerable side of her neck, but each time he got close to her skin, her fingers would jerk his head back, leaving him impotent to do anything. Maxwell had moved so silently or perhaps, he, the captive, was so totally captivated by the Lady that he hadn't noticed. Whatever the cause, Maxwell's hands were now cupped over Terin's breasts again, molding and pressing as he stood behind her. The captive's senses were going on overload. Where to look? What to enjoy? Maxwell's manipulation of the Lady's flesh? Her own manipulation of his? He thought he would burst, especially with the Lady's passionately swollen lips rubbing so invitingly over his spear. Would he ever know satisfaction? The Lady lifted her hips before lowering them over the head of his hardness, teasing it with the promise of warm tightness to lose himself in. Her hips lowered even more, taking him partially inside her and he groaned at the feelings it evoked. He watched as Maxwell's hands teased her body and he knew a deep hunger to be able to do the same to her. His captivity created a deeper burning need in him, fueling his passion to greater heights. His head flung back and another moan escaped his lips as she sunk down onto the tops of his thighs, taking him deep into her wet, tight passage. He throbbed... he burned from the inside... he knew... he knew if he found completion before the Lady did, the consequences would be agonizing for him. His control was slipping but he reigned it in, barely mastering it, but ultimate pleasure demanded it. She rode him to the rhythm of her pleasure, taking delight in the fullness of him. Maxwell added to her passion with his slow, sucking, lingering kisses upon her skin, his hands molding her flesh. With each downward stroke, she ground her hips, eliciting a guttural moan from the man beneath her. Terin looked over her shoulder as Maxwell left her. She watched as he drew forth a chair, placing it behind her. Terin grinned, knowing what he was about and eager for it. She rose up, allowing Maxwell to reposition the man's legs to the sides of his chair, thus giving Maxwell ample room to place his own chair close to them. Maxwell placed his legs together, between the man's splayed ones. His hands rested on Terin's hips as a signal. Terin lowered her body, engulfing her captive into the realm of pleasure once again. Her hands slid down his arms until her fingers encountered the ropes upon his wrists. Within moments he was no longer a captive held by ropes, but captive still, held in Terin's web of passion. Extricating herself, Terin turned her body, giving her captive a delightful view of her spine and buttocks as she bent over to nip and tongue Maxwell's nipples. Maxwell's hands slid under her thighs, lifting her slightly then bringing her down upon his sword of desire. Sword to sheath, sheath to sword, the two moved as one. She heard from behind her, movement of a chair being pushed back, then felt masculine hands grasp the cheeks of her buttocks, parting them. In the next moment she was pierced and taken in one long stroke. Sword to sheath, sheath to sword, the trinity moved as one through passion and lust, sustaining a desire so hot that all reason had fled and only one thing remained, the need for completion. Each fed the other, there was no distinction of body or time, only raw emotion spiraled through the bedchamber until it could spiral no more and all were spent. |
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Lady Terin's Chambers |