Page 4 of The Cruelty of Thorns

I sucked in a breath; her voice speaking my name had an electric effect on me. She threw open the door and swept into the room. Before following, I stood back in the doorway to take it all in, from the sumptuous upholstery and draperies in deep shades of maroon and gold to the thick vibrant rugs underfoot. The room was ablaze with dozens of candles and colored glass lanterns, and yet it still felt moody and intimate.

This was the boudoir of a queen, a cornucopia for the senses. The air was redolent with the spicy scent of incense and I noticed several smoking brass censors stationed around the perimeter. A red velveteen settee and two side chairs were arranged in front of the fireplace and a massive carved armoire dominated one wall, but the star of the show was the bed. Surely four could have slept comfortably atop its luxurious landscape. It was piled with rich velour throws, thick furs, and dozens of pillows and held pride of place in the center of the spacious room, its gleaming gold frame draped in gossamer silks and thickly corded tassels.

I was awestruck; there was almost too much to look at. The Contessa watched me, her dark eyes gleaming in the candlelight. “Are you just going to stand there?” she finally asked.

I swallowed, forcibly calming myself, and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. She toed off her pianelle and glided over to me, reaching out and running her fingers along my arm, sending delicious shivers pulsating through me from her touch.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper.

I shook my head, unable to form the words in my head. She slipped a finger inside my collar and traced it down my neck and I felt my heart trip over itself. Up close her eyes were a universe of dancing shadows and light, and I was drowning in their depths. Her fingers found their way down to the buttons of my cioppa, deftly loosening each until it fell open. I bit back a gasp as they moved inside my shurt, brushing lightly against my chest as she opened it.

She smiled up at me knowingly then raised up on her toes and brushed her lips across mine, sending shockwaves through me. My cock hardened, straining against the codpiece in my breeches while my heartbeat thundered in my ears. Instinct took over and I slid my hands up her arms, crushing the full sleeves of her dress beneath my grip.

I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anything in my life, and I intended to have her. I leaned into her, pressing my lips against hers again, testing with my tongue. When she didn’t resist, I plunged it inside her mouth, wanting to devour her. She ran her hands inside my shurt then ripped it open, popping the buttons and pushing it off my shoulders while my own hands were busy with the fastenings of her dress. Her skin beneath my hands was cool and smooth, and I had to force myself not to follow her example and tear the bodice away from her, so impatient was I to have her.

When I finally got her dress loose, I roughly pushed the chemise aside to get to her ample breasts. She pulled her mouth away from mine and threw her head back, a husky laugh erupting from her. The sound ignited my hunger even more. I crushed her against me while shoving the skirts of her dress down over her hips, my hands finding their way back to her plump ass. I felt her lips smile against mine as her hands slid down to my breeches, loosening then pushing them down over my hose.

“Do you find we wear too many clothes?” she whispered against my lips. I growled in agreement, my arms encircling her finally nude body. If I had my way, she’d never wear anything again. From what I could feel, because I was too consumed by the universe of her mouth to look, her body was worthy of being worshipped.

She pushed away from me and stepped back, kicking her pooled dress and undergarments away from her to stand before me in all her naked glory. My breath caught; she was a goddess, and I had all I could do not to throw her on the bed and fuck her senseless. As if sensing my thoughts, she moved languorously to the bed and folded herself onto it, reclining back with one leg bent, exposing her sex, which I could see was damp with need.

“I believe you are still partially dressed,” she breathed.

I quickly bent over and pulled off my shoes and rolled my hose and breeches down my legs before straightening and approaching her. My cock was standing at attention, painfully hard and aching for her. She reached out and wrapped her cool fingers around it, pulling me toward her.

“Tell me, Julianus, have you ever been tied up?”

It took me a minute to focus past the feel of her hand on my straining cock to realize what she was asking me. “Tied up?”

She smiled shrewdly. “Yes, I think you’re going to enjoy this.”

She pulled me onto the bed and pushed me down, flipping around to straddle me, her warm center positioned on my belly. I could feel the moist heat against my flesh and had all I could do not to force her back and take my pleasure, but she leaned over, her pendulous breasts in my face, and forced my arms above my head.

“Like this,” she murmured. “Helpless. While I do whatever I please to you.” My brain was hesitant, but my cock jumped at her words, slapping against her ass. She chuckled. “I think I have my answer.”

She reached across me to the left post of the bed and grabbed the end of a length of silken cord that was secured there. “Move up,” she ordered, raising herself above me. I glanced up at the head of the bed, trying to figure out what she was up to, and scooted myself up on the bed. She reached for my left arm, lashing my outstretched wrist tight before locating a similar cord on the opposite post and doing the same to my other wrist.

I struggled against the restraints; I was trapped, unable to move, and while part of me was a little panicked by that thought, the hungry look in her eyes quickly changed any hesitation I had to lust. I didn’t know what kind of game she was playing, but if it got me what I wanted, I was all for it.

“Now I’m going to have my way with you.”

She then proceeded to tease me to the limits of my patience, running her fingers lightly down my arms, across my chest, up my thighs, and under my balls. Everywhere but where I wanted them to go; on my cock. She followed her fingers with her tongue, tracing lazy circles around my nipples and down my belly, her silky hair brushing my straining cock as she sucked my balls into her mouth.

I squirmed against the restraints, desperate to have her, and the harder I struggled, the more attention her mouth lavished on my aching balls while her hands roamed over my flesh, her nails digging furrows that left traces of blood in their wake. Just when I thought I couldn’t stand any more, her mouth released my balls and her tongue reached out, lapping up the underside of my cock. I nearly came on the spot.

She smiled up at me and nipped lightly at the head, causing my body to stiffen. By now my chest was crisscrossed with the evidence of her nails, as though she had branded me, and I worried if she meant to do the same to my cock. She drew me into her mouth and I felt her teeth once again nibble at the sensitive skin and sucked in a breath.

“Are you frightened?” she asked in that sultry voice, and my traitorous body immediately responded.

“No,” I lied.

She offered a lazy smile. “You should be.”

She raised herself and crawled up my body, her tongue sliding across all the bloody trails her nails had left. She placed her hands against my chest then lifted her hips and lowered herself slowly onto my cock.

She was tight and wet and I had to bite my lip to maintain control.

“Let me do all the work,” she breathed.

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