Page 114 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

The dress slipped from Emillie’s shoulders and waist with a gentle tug from Kyra. Her underclothes were swept away with just as much dexterity. The latter’s fingers slid up her inner thighs from behind, forcing her legs wider. A low hum of satisfaction told Emillie she liked what she saw—and damn if that did not make that heat in her core throb.

“Bend over,” Kyra said with a husky voice. “Hold the tub.”

Emillie hesitated. This was all very new to her, and though she wanted Kyra’s hands on her in any way possible, she felt exposed.

“Come now, my Lady.” Kyra kissed the back of her leg, then again on her hip. “I was sent here to take care of you, and I wish to do so to the very best of my ability. I’ve been dreaming of this for weeks.”

With a soft release of a breath, Emillie did as she was told. She hinged at the hips and gripped the edge of the bathtub. What had Camilla and Ariadne said? It was like a kiss…

But, gods, it was better than a kiss. Kyra’s hands slid up the back of her thighs and gripped Emillie’s rear, gently at first, then with more force as her tongue flicked across her most intimate of places.

At first, she tensed, Kyra’s name escaping her on a gasp. She gripped the porcelain harder.

“Shh, my Lady,” Kyra whispered, her breath sliding across the wet crux of Emillie’s legs. “Someone might think we were up to something untoward.”

Emillie could not help but giggle. She looked back at Kyra and nearly moaned at the sight of her on her knees, watching her with those sparkling dark eyes. She kissed her slick sex again, then slipped her tongue across her bud. In an instant, Emillie’s knees went weak from the pleasure.

Again and again, Kyra worked her mouth over Emillie, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony as she moaned. Her grip on the tub tightened as that heat mounted higher and higher with every passing second.

Soon, Emillie’s arms began to give. Her legs wobbled, and she bent at the waist to look between her own thighs at where Kyra knelt, humming in delight as she indulged.

“You are divine,” Kyra said before plunging her tongue between her folds and savoring each slow, sensual lick. She reached between Emillie’s legs with one hand and drew her fingers over her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Between the softness of her mouth and the firm circles of her fingers, Emillie felt her body wind tight. She moaned loud, the sound echoing in the bathroom, and for once, she did not care. If someone heard her, what would they say? There were enough rumors surrounding her new husband to hide anything the servants would say about her. For all they knew, she could be pleasuring herself.

She was certainly glad it was not on her own, however. Kyra knew what she was doing, and while Emillie once thought the notion would bother her, the fact that Kyra had searched for her, too, outweighed whatever the Rusan had done in the past. What were previous lovers but just that? Previous.

Now Emillie benefitted from Kyra’s expert knowledge of how to pleasure a woman, and gods, she wanted this every single night.

As Kyra drew her tongue across Emillie’s opening, her fingers still moving with firm precision, the pressure in her core mounted to unbearable heights. In an instant, Emillie’s release crashed through her. She moaned loud and long and shifted her hips back to where Kyra knelt as though her body searched for more, more, more.

Emillie closed her eyes, panting from the explosive climax. “Gods, Kyra…”

Her lover laughed airily, sliding her hands around to grip her hips and pull them closer so she could nip at her rear. “We’re just getting started, my Lady. Shall we take a bath?”

We. That was the word Emillie wanted to hear. She hummed her agreement as Kyra stood, and she turned to cup the beautiful woman’s face, bringing their mouths together again. Lips tasting of her, it reignited her core to think that it was she who made such a magnificent person savor her so.

“I want to make you feel like that,” Emillie said against her lips, her hands drifting over Kyra’s luscious curves. “And I want you out of this damned dress.”

Another lovely laugh, and together, they worked Kyra from her green dress. It puddled on the floor beside the ivory, and Emillie marveled at the smooth dips and swells of the woman’s body. Large, round breasts and pink nipples, taut from their sudden exposure to the cool night air, were what Emillie cupped first with one hand. The other slid over her soft waist to cup her ample rear and bring her body in close so when they kissed again, tongues exploring one another, she could feel each wondrous part of her.

Kyra’s moan as Emillie rolled her nipple between her fingers only stoked the fire rebuilding in her.

The water in the bath, still quite warm by the time they clambered in, embraced them as their hands still roamed one another’s bodies. Emillie lowered herself in, guiding Kyra onto her lap. Kyra straddled her legs and rolled her hips, sending a jolt through Emillie.

“Kiss me everywhere,” Kyra urged, her tongue tracing the shell of her ear. “I want to feel your lips on me.”

Again, Emillie did as she was told. She kissed Kyra’s neck and across her collarbone. One hand drifted between them in search of the Rusan’s own pleasure spots. When Kyra groaned, hips rocking forward, she knew she had found what she searched for and stroked her fingers across the small bud.

As she worked the bundle of nerves, Emillie drew her lips down to Kyra’s breasts, where she drew her tongue languidly over her nipple. Another moan that stoked the fire in her belly. She could live for that sound.

Pulling a nipple into her mouth, Emillie used her free hand to stimulate the other. Kyra’s breath quickened, and she dug her fingers into Emillie’s hair. The urgent grasp spurred her on, and she sucked harder.

“Put your fingers in me,” Kyra pleaded.

Emillie slipped a finger between her folds, the water doing nothing to hide how wet she was on her own. She cursed under her breath and slid one, then two, into Kyra. Her sex was warm and soft. Again, Kyra groaned and rocked her hips so the heel of Emillie’s hand rubbed at that perfect angle.

“Fuck,” Kyra gasped. “Emillie, don’t stop.”

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