The Prince's Pet Page 9

  The Prince's voice was strained. "I know, father."

  Sighing, the king leaned forward to pat Issander's hand. "Love is well and good," he said, "but there are more important things. Besides, love doesn't always fall in your lap - as you well know. It can be built over many years, no matter who you choose as a bride. And don't think I don't know your inclinations. You're unlikely to find a noble lady who will consent to being bound or disciplined in the bedchamber. Why do you think I found you a pleasure slave? The arrangement worked well enough for me in my young days."

  Issander was silent. I felt his fingers tighten on my upper arm where he held me steady. The two of them stared at each other.

  I felt distinctly uncomfortable caught between them during this topic of conversation. So it was true about my master. Was it a source of embarrassment for him?

  I wondered what it would be like when he inevitably did take a wife - then immediately I pushed the thought away. It left a sour taste in my mouth, and I didn't want to consider the implications of that. I am his property, I reminded myself, not his lover.

  After the king had tired and his nurse came to collect him, we retired to the prince's rooms. Without being asked I knelt to take off his shoes and went to pour a drink for us both. He sat heavily in a chair by the hearth, in which a fire had already been lit.

  Not wishing to intrude on his thoughts, I knelt on the thick carpet by his feet and handed him his glass. I imagined he still thought of his father. Clearly, the old man was not long for the world. Aside from the obvious grief, this had many implications for a prince and heir of a kingdom. I didn't know much about the duties of royalty, but his impending reign must have been a heavy weight.

  The warmth of the fire and the effects of the wine soothed me, and eventually I found my eyes growing heavy. I shifted so I was closer to Issander and leaned against him, resting my head against his knee. I didn't know if it was a proper thing to do - but he'd said to feel free to touch him, and for the first time, I wanted to.

  After a moment, I felt his hand on my head. I closed my eyes while he stroked my hair. I was almost asleep when he finally spoke. His voice was husky and low.

  "Go to the bedroom." He said. "Wait for me there."

  Just like that, I was nervous again. I stood by the bed for a moment, unsure what to do. Did he want me to warm his bed again? Finally, I settled on kneeling next to the bed, in the position I had been taught.

  He came in a short while later, and I bowed forward, fingers spread on the floor, forehead almost touching the carpet. I stayed there, and sensed him stop and look at me for a long moment.

  "Gods help me," he said, "if that isn't the loveliest sight I've ever seen." A little thrill went through me even though I still trembled with nerves. He walked over, until I could see his bare feet in front of me. I wanted to look at him and see the hunger in his eyes, but I held back. It was a long moment before he spoke.

  "Come here."

  When I raised my head I saw his offered hand, and took it. He easily pulled me to my feet, and I stood looking up at him.

  Issander cupped my face slowly and gently between his hands and I felt the warm bloom of pleasure deep in my belly. When he leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, I let out a breath of something like relief.

  His kiss was slower and less urgent than before, but no less intense. Our breath mingled, faintly tasting of wine and fruit. His tongue caressed mine and I mimicked its movements, taking delight in the pursuit and teasing withdrawal.

  He let his hands drop to my shoulders, caressing them, and when we broke from our kiss he bent to nibble my neck. His mouth and tongue felt hot on my sensitive skin.

  His hands roamed down over my back and I felt him try the laces of my bodice. It had taken another slave girl to help lace me into it, and I wasn't sure it would be easy to unfasten, but after a few moments I felt it abruptly loosen. Issander pulled away, taking the bodice from me and tossing it to the floor.

  I felt the weight of my breasts as they were freed, my nipples already hardening. Now I stood in only my skirt. My master looked down at me, holding me gently by the arms, his thumbs caressing. As I looked at him the question at the back of my mind pushed its way forth. I held my tongue, but he saw it in my eyes. Did he know me so well already?

  "What is it?"

  I bowed my head. "Is it true? What your father spoke about... is that what you enjoy?"

  His hands didn't cease their gentle movement on my arms. "Yes. Among other things. Does that scare you?"

  I looked up at him, considering. "Yes," I said honestly. At the same time, I could feel the fluttering of my heart, and the warmth and strength of his hands steadied me. "But..."

  "But?"

  I stood on the tips of my toes and wound my arms around his neck, and he bent his head and met my lips lightly as they sought his. "But I am yours." I breathed against him.

  He made a rumble of pleasure and crushed me to him, his mouth possessing mine. Then in a sudden movement he scooped me up in his arms. I let out a yelp of surprise, and held on tightly as he easily carried me and deposited me on the bed.

  I leaned back on my elbows, drawing my knees up slightly. He was fully clothed and I was half-naked, and he loomed over me, dark and serious with his hungry look. My chest heaved in and out, my lips open as I stared at him in nervous anticipation.

  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 su
ch 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.