The Prince's Pet (11 page)

He sat next to me, bending low,
close to my waiting lips. But he didn't kiss me. Instead, he made me lay down,
and clasped both of my hands in his, raising them over my head and holding them
tightly together.

"Are you going to tie me
again?" I couldn't keep the anxiety from my voice.

My master nodded. "But not
to punish you this time. Binding is not always a punishment or a frightening
thing. It can enhance pleasure for you, too."

I shook my head. Ellys had said
as much, but I still didn't understand. I only knew I hated being restrained.
It brought back memories of my time as a captive, kept tied in a wagon for days
on end, only released to be beaten regularly. "Please..." I
whimpered, not really expecting mercy.

Now he did kiss me, his soft
lips pressing against mine for a moment. All my objections melted away, and I
looked at him in silence when he withdrew. His eyes were full of desire. I
realized how badly I wanted to please him.

"You must trust me."
He said. “I am only going to do something for you. I will not hurt you.”

I pressed my lips tightly
together and slowly nodded.

"Don't move." He
pushed my wrists against the headboard for emphasis.

With difficulty I obeyed, taking
deep breaths as I watched him cross the room. He came back dangling something
from his hand - a long soft leather lace.

"Good girl." He said,
and caressed my face for a moment. I leaned into his touch, the praise filling
me with obscure pleasure.  Then quickly and expertly, he tied my wrists
together.

The leather was soft and he
didn't bind me too tightly, but I still couldn't move my hands much. They were
tied together over my left shoulder, resting against the thick corner post of
the bed.

I watched mutely as he walked
around the bed and approached from the other side. His weight settled back on
the mattress. I squeaked in surprise as he grabbed my hips and slid me
sideways, positioning me diagonally so that my hands were directly over my
head.

He stood at the edge of the bed,
bending over to look down at me. Smiling, he ran a hand up my thigh, slipping
his fingers under the band of my skirt and working the fastenings. In a moment
he had the garment in both hands and he drew it down, instructing me to raise
up so he could get it over my hips. He pulled it off and let it fall away.

I was fully exposed, blushing under
his gaze. My nipples were pebbled erect and sensitive, and I could do nothing
to hide my exposed sex except squeeze my thighs together and twist away.

Taking his time, Issander
regarded my body, his eyes roaming over me as though inspecting his property.
He stroked one hand up my shin then took hold of my knees, parting them to
fully reveal me, and I bit my lip as he ran a hand up my thigh, sending shivers
through my flesh.

"You have shaved," he
said.

“I hope it doesn't displease you
my Lord, it was done before I was presented to you.” I explained,
breathlessly. 

"No... I like it. You will
keep yourself groomed in this way."

"Yes, my Lord." My
face was burning. I was on display, with no clothes or even hair to hide me as
he looked at me so closely.

He ran his hands lazily up my
thighs, then pushing my legs apart again, knelt up on the bed with one knee
between mine. Supporting himself on his hands he bent over me, and smiled
before kissing me softly on the lips again. “You are beautiful.” He said in my ear.

Taking his time, he trailed
little kisses behind my ear, brushing my hair out of the way, and I inhaled a
sharp breath as he firmly sucked on my neck. His teeth played on my skin, his
tongue teased.

It felt divine. Unwittingly, my
hands pulled at their restraints. I wanted to touch him, caress his beautiful
hair. I wanted to undress him so that I could see and touch his body. So that
we were on equal terms. But of course, that was not allowed.

I helplessly closed my eyes, my
body writhing softly under his as he trailed his tongue down over my
collarbone. His hand found my breast just before his mouth did, and he caressed
with his fingers before kissing me there. Kneading the soft flesh under his
mouth, he made a pleased sound. Again, his tongue and teeth teased me.

He broke away for a moment, then
took my nipple in his mouth. I arched my back as lazy waves of pleasure
followed each stroke and circle of his tongue. I moaned.

Each hand holding a breast he
massaged and caressed me, as his tongue teased and played. My nipples were hard
sensitive peaks. As he began to take one deeper in his mouth and suck harder,
he pinched, kneaded and twisted the other between his fingers.

My breath came faster and I
tossed my head to the side. It was painful... and yet pleasurable at the same
time. Was I beginning to understand?

Issander stilled my writhing,
holding me down with his legs and body. He kissed lower, over my ribs and
stomach, and I breathed hard, tensing in anticipation. He trailed patterns on
my skin, passed over my navel and my bare mound. I gasped as he ran a finger
down, tracing my sex and finding wetness there.

Over and over again he repeated
the movement, before finally dipping into my folds. I was slick, swollen and
sensitive, and his strokes sent delicious pulses of pleasure right through me.
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to enjoy the sensation, modesty forgotten.

His finger found that sensitive
place, the center of a woman's pleasure. Lightly, teasingly he rubbed the
button, causing more pronounced shocks of bliss.

I moaned, arching my hips, and
he left the spot, moving his finger lower and delving it inside me. I tensed a
little but he moved gently, only a little way. He found a rhythm, pushing in
further with each thrust of his hand, moving easily in my juices. I breathed
hard as the pleasure slowly mounted, gently rocking my hips to match his
movements.

Just as I was losing myself in
the moment he withdrew, and went back to circling my nub. The sudden contrast;
the shock of pleasure was indescribable, and I gasped and panted, clenched and
unclenched. This... this was what I had been waiting for. This, my master with
his hands on me, inside me. Why had I tried to save myself for a marriage bed
that was never coming? If only I'd known of the pleasure I was missing!

He bent over me, still
mercilessly circling with his fingers. “I will not take you now.” He murmured.
“And I will not give you release, until I hear you beg.”

I sensed the smile in his voice,
and shivered. I just wanted him to continue what he was doing. And he did,
until I felt as though I were about to reach some unknown peak. I moaned again
and again, reaching for it. Arching my back under his hands as he thrust
fingers back inside me then pulled out to rub my pearl once more. He seemed to
know exactly where that edge was, and kept me there.

Until he lowered his head and I
felt his tongue on me.

I cried out in surprise as he
lapped at my button, his hot breath and warm wet tongue caressing and sliding.
He made a low growl against me, licking the length of me, tasting my juices.
His hands clutched at my hips so hard I felt bruised.

“My Lord,” I breathed, hands
uselessly straining against their bindings. “I can't take it any longer.”

Insistently he worked his tongue
on me. When he found my entrance and snaked his tongue inside I groaned in
blissful agony.

“Please,” I cried. I didn't know
what I was asking for. For him to stop – or for the release he offered me, if I
begged.

He took his mouth away, and
panting, I looked down at him to see my own juices on his lips. He slid two
fingers inside me, working them in and out with a curling motion.

He was smiling. “Please, what?”

“Please!” I groaned again,
almost a sob. I clenched my thigh muscles and bucked against his hand, my head
falling back on the pillow. “Please my Lord, let me... release!”

Issander growled low in his
throat, like a pleased purr. “Yes, pet.” He said. “Come for me now.” And,
fingers still inside me, he bent again, to lick and suck.

His mouth and fingers skillfully
manipulating me provided almost too much sensation. I was suffused with
blissful energy, my body out of my control. But it was the desire and pleasure
in his voice that sent me over the edge. I cried out loudly as I tumbled over,
and my body arched and tensed - then as the ecstasy rocked through me, I shook
in spasms under my master's hands.

He stroked my thigh as my
pleasure ebbed. While I was still catching my breath, he crawled up over me and
kissed my open lips. I tasted myself on him, and found it oddly tantalizing.

“Good girl.” He said again,
softly caressing my cheek. And he reached up to untie my wrists, easily
unraveling the knots that had held me so securely. My arms ached, and he held
them, rubbing feeling back into my hands and fingers.

“Now,” he said, his voice husky.
“You will undress me.”

I hesitated, opening my mouth,
but he held up a hand to stall my objection.

He stood, and I sat on the edge
of the bed. I was suffused with a warm glow, more relaxed than I'd been in a
long time. He hadn't hurt me, hadn't punished me in any way. And perhaps being
bound
had
heightened my pleasure, in a way. He had no reason to be kind
to me or to give me pleasure. But he had. I trusted him. And I wanted to please
him.

I had to stand to unfasten his
tunic. Sliding it off his shoulders I folded it and left it on the bed. He
helped with his thin undershirt, smiling at me as I stood on the tips of my
toes. I enjoyed the feeling of my naked breasts pressing against him for a
moment. I let my hands fall to his shoulders and stroked them over his chest
before reaching for the belt of his trousers.

I sat back down as I pushed the
trousers over his hips, and his manhood sprang free, fully erect in front of
me. I stared at it for a moment before looking up at my master, wondering what
he wanted.

He smiled wickedly, and gently
guided me down on the bed. I moved over and lay down as he followed me,
kneeling over me. “I want you to watch.” He said, taking his member in his
hand. He began to stroke it, pumping it in his fist while he looked at me.
“Just watch.”

It somehow felt even more
intimate than what he had done to me only minutes before. As I looked in his
eyes watching him pleasure himself, I felt my own body respond with arousal
once more. I was still slick between the legs, and now I felt hot, my chest
heaving as I breathed faster. I wondered if he would take me after all. And now
I realized I wanted him to. Would he – if I begged? I bit my lip to keep from
doing so, my gaze now drawn to his huge, rigid phallus, pumping rapidly in his
tightly closed hand.

I felt his thigh muscles which
were pinning me down, contracting and releasing as he picked up speed. He
rested his free hand on my leg, splaying his fingers and stroking me softly.
Watching my body hungrily as he jerked his fist. It made a soft rhythmic sound,
barely audible over his heavy breathing.

I had never imagined such a
thing would be erotic. But the sight of the prince with his hair falling in his
face, breathing ragged and hand furiously working on his cock – while he stared
at me - was beyond arousing. I wanted to touch him, to draw him down. To kiss
him. To open my legs and invite him to take me.

Unable to help myself, I reached
out, stroking his hip and curling my hands around to caress his taut ass. I
could feel his muscles straining, and he moaned at my touch. His legs started
to shake.

His body tensed and he let out a
loud groan. He gripped his member hard and thick jets of his seed shot out,
landing on my belly.

I gasped in surprise. I had
known, technically, what was about to happen, but seeing it – feeling his hot
fluid hit my skin was a shock.

Again and again he spurted, and
he slowed his action, stroking himself once or twice more before beginning to
relax. His hand fell away and he sat back on his heels, breathing heavily.

I caressed him, unthinking, as
his fluid cooled on my stomach. The warmth and wetness between my legs was
almost a torture. I ached for his touch, for another release.

Finally he raised his head, and
smiled wickedly. He reached for my hands and held them. “I did not tell you to
touch.”

I bit my lip. “Are you going to
punish me?”

Issander laughed. Not his usual
restrained chuckle but a full-throated laugh. I couldn't help smiling a little
in response. “Not this time.” He said.

A short time later, we lay in
bed together. He drew me to him and held me, giving me no choice in the matter.
Not that I objected. Pillowed on his chest and encircled in his strong arms, I
felt safe.

I remained tightly wound at
first, still wanting him. I was very conscious of my naked skin resting against
his, our feet idly caressing each other. In time the urgency faded, leaving a
warm fluttery feeling that suffused my whole being.

“Are you pleased, my Lord?” I
finally whispered. I felt him stir, and saw the glint of his eyes as he looked
at me. His face was only a vague shape in the dim light, resting on the pillow
next to me.

He exhaled softly and I heard
the smile in his voice. “Oh yes. Very pleased.”

I dared to kiss him then,
somehow finding his lips in the darkness. He responded not with hunger but with
surprising tenderness, gently returning the kiss while reaching out to stroke
my face.

Sleep took him first, and I lay
there with his hand entwined in my hair and my leg caught between his. I could
hear the wind rattling the balcony door and my master's deep regular breathing.
All else was silent.

It took me a while to identify
what I was feeling. It was something familiar, though I hadn't felt it for a
long while - even before the slavers had taken me away. And even then, not
often.