Page 2 of The Taking of House Westwood

Valery knew they had a much larger problem than the obstacle of the Border Road though. The bloodline of Romus, the ancient, hated human leader, lived still. Only a few nocturne knew the truth of it — and fewer still knew the danger such a descendant posed.

But Commander Valery, alone among the nocturne, had learned something else — the name of that descendant.

And such a man… he had a weakness.

Chapter One

Westwood Manor

Ryndra’s world was her Mistress’ pussy. Kneeling under the table, the lace tablecloth against her blonde hair, she lapped at the dripping slit before her. The Mistress’ trim thighs surrounded her on both sides, and in the quiet dark between those thighs all Ryndra could see, feel and smell was her Mistress’ sex. Conversation was taking place above her, in a world wholly separate from her own. Down there the only communication for her were the sharp pinches from Mistress’ fingers, a hand entwined in her hair, urging her tongue to greater efforts, deeper penetration.

“Gods, I can hear her lapping like a dog under there, Miriam.” The voice of her Lord was relaxed, full of mirth.

“Quiet down, girl,” the Mistress said, her voice thick.

Ryndra cringed at the bite in her tone, fearing what it might lead to. A displeased Mistress meant more pain, more humiliation for her. She thrust her tongue deeper, her lips numb against the wiry pubic hair of the plump outer labia.

Her Mistress sighed, patting Ryndra on the back of the head. Pleased.

Thank the Gods.

“What’s she doing down there anyway? Lawrence has already selected her. She should be readying for the journey.”

Ryndra felt delicate fingers comb through her hair, the long nails making her scalp tingle.

“You men had to take my favorite scullery maid. I’m not letting her go one minute before I have to.”

“Not exactly scullery duties you’ve got her performing, Miriam.” A booted foot stroked Ryndra’s hip, and she resisted leaning into it. She really did like her Lord. Even though he could swing a stout cane (and Ryndra had been subject to it more than once), she never found him callous or cruel. And his aftercare following a sound whipping was almost worth the pain. He was a stark contrast to the sadistic Mistress, whose cunt she now found herself sounding with an increasingly tired tongue.

Just let me lick it and get it over with. Please.

But it was never that easy. The Mistress’ swollen clit, protruding from its hood taunted her. It was the key to temporarily ending Ryndra’s ordeal, and it was a mere breath from her lips and tongue.

It might as well have been a thousand miles away.

Her Mistress held out as was her pleasure, prolonging her enjoyment of Ryndra’s oral skills.

“I intend to enjoy her while I still have the chance, Andrus. Three months is too long to be without her skills.”

Ryndra could hear the smile in her Lord’s deep voice. “What about your stout-bottomed girl from the auctions? Tani, was it?”

“She’s been transferred to the fields. Escott says her strong hindquarters are wasted here in the house.”

“Pity, that. I enjoyed seeing that big bottom of hers spread out for the cane.”

“Lucien showed me a few of the things he’s been doing with his fillies. I really wish you’d have come to the stables during our last visit, love.”

Silverware clinked on the dishes above. Ryndra watched slippered feet pace quickly alongside the table. Another of the maids serving breakfast in Ryndra’s stead.

“Farrier had much to discuss, as usual. He was just grateful that Lucien was there to distract you from the terrible boredom of things like politics or even ruling. I think you’re obsessed with Lucien’s methods, Miriam. It’s unhealthy.”

Her Mistress laughed, and used a tight grip on Ryndra’s hair to press her face harder against her sex.

Ryndra shivered, even as she tried to keep her tongue working between the folds. Being sent to the fields made service in the household seem like a pleasant vacation. She pitied poor Tani.

“Yes, well —” Miriam drew in a breath as Ryndra sucked the inner labia into her mouth.”—I’ll have to see about replacing either her or our little Ryndra here since you’re so cruelly depriving me of her.”

Her Lord grunted. “There is another auction in Wyndhaven in three weeks time. Plus there are the weekly judicial sentences in Steerton. Surely, some disobedient lass or rebellious wife has found herself in Magistrate Riordan’s dock?”

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