Page 73 of Protect Your Queen

“I thought that we had time to spare,” I sang out.

It took a few seconds for her to recognize the chorus, but it was evident when she did. She straightened, her legs leaning in towards me. Despite my warnings that she not move, she leaned down, her hands coming to the top of the music stand, until her breasts were in my line of sight. They were full as her biceps pushed them together, emphasizing the swell of her cleavage.

Christ, this was a real test of discipline.

But I played our song. Or was it my songforher? How much credit does a muse get when something is made in their honor? Hell, she could take it all. I’d give it freely.

When I got to the last refrain, I was on pins, desperate to know what she thought. To see her face, to see if it could affect her the way it did me. “It’s a story we can weave, with the drifting autumn leaves… with the drifting autumn leaves.”

I let the last notes hang in the air for all seven counts. One… two… three… four… five… six… seven.

Then a little longer beyond, waiting for a sound from her. Anything to tell me where I stood. Wherewestood.

Then her cool hand came down to where my right rested. She brought my palm to her lips, kissing my scar. I grabbed on to her face. Not hard, but just… enough. My thumb on one cheek, my fingers pressing into the other. She leaned into my hold, until a small kiss turned into a bite on the meaty place between my thumb and index finger.

I’m only a man. I can only hold back so much.

I lowered the fallboard on the piano keys, because I didn’t need some dissonant chord to wake up the whole house. I stood, as she uncrossed her legs, and moved between them, lifting her skirt as one hand traced up her bare thigh.

“What do you want?” I asked her again, the same words from when I had put her to bed.

Please, don’t give me uncertainty Songbird. Tell me that you want me as much as I want you.

“Kiss me.” Her low, breathy voice sent a jolt right to my cock.

I kissed her, and nothing more. It was slight. Sweet. Lips against lips, open with a little tongue. Her hands came to my collar, as she tried to pull me in closer. But I stayed as still as I could. Not because I didn’t want to give in, but because she hadn’t asked for more.

“Harder,” she whined, her tongue delving into my mouth. I returned it. Measure for measure. Beat for beat.

But not a single inch more.

“Damnit, please!” she said, clawing at my neck, trying to draw me in.

“You need to tell me what to do, Songbird. Say it. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” she said, finally.

An imperfect answer, but it was good enough… for now.

“Wait!” Her hands came to my chest, and I swear to God, I was three seconds from losing my shit. If she stopped me now, I’d lose my mind. I needed her so badly. It was like running a marathon, just to quit within inches of the finish line. “I want you to make love to me.”

Holy. Mother. Of. God! Yes!

I jumped in to kiss her jaw, her throat. I reached for her waist to bring her to the edge of the piano, exactly where she needed to be. My hands trailed up her thighs, lifting her skirt, finding that silk thong that I wanted to rip in two. But that wasn’t on-brand for what she needed. Not yet. Soon, though.

If I did my job right, then she’d give me everything.

“As you wish, Songbird,” I said, leaning into her lips again. “What else do you want?”

“Make me forget,” she said, as I kissed her sweet throat. This was going to be my favorite spot - the pulse point at her neck. “Get me out of my head.”

“You won’t remember your own name when I’m through with you,” I promised.

It was as valid as any oath. I pulled her thong down her hips, letting it drop past those beautiful shoes, to the floor.

I pulled her thighs tight around my waist. I reached down and released myself from my trousers. I practically ripped off the zipper, I was so desperate to get inside her.

Aching cock in hand, I placed my tip at her sweet, wet core. Jesus, I was pre-cumming like an adolescent. Still, I was gratified to know that she was wet for me too.

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