times—before slumping over on her in rest.
“Mmm, lover, was it good?” the girl asked.
Maven barely heard Kells’ quiet answer. “Astounding.”
To her surprise, something made her stop touching herself then. Because they were done? Because fear of Dane had squelched some of her arousal?
She tried to convince herself those were the reasons, but deep inside she knew it was something else.
She was to be married tomorrow, after all. She was to join Dane in his bed tomorrow night.
She still didn’t want to fuck him—certainly not. But if she had to, well then…something inside told her she may as well just let her next orgasm be onedelivered the more traditional way, by someone else, rather than by her own hand.
It had nothing to do with wanting it to come from Dane, she told herself once more
for good measure—no, nothing to do with that at all.
It was about…tradition. Yes, tradition. Lavonia had told her fucking came with many ancient urges and traditions and that, ideally, your partner should make you come. And just because Maven didn’t believe in the traditions surrounding royal marriage didn’t mean she didn’t believe in the traditions of sex.
58
Rituals of Passion
That was the only reason she was saving her next orgasm for Dane. The only reason.
* * * * *
Dane lay on his bed comfortably watching the two maids travel back and forth into his chamber with ewers of hot water, slowly filling his bathing tub. Dahlia and Ofran were both pretty young women in their twenties, a few years younger than himself, andboth had pleasured him on more than one occasion.
“Dahlia,” he said to the raven-haired girl, “before your next trip, summon my bridehere.”
Looking up from where she poured the water, Dahlia quirked a small smile. “Before the wedding, master?”
Clearly, it was possible to wear impudence much better than Maven had—one, like Dahlia, could even make it appealing. He knew he should reprimand her for the question, but her flirtatious smile was all it took to quell his complaint. He simply returned her amused expression. “Don’t worry, I can wait until tonight to take her
virginity.”
“Then for what purpose—?”
His smile faded. “That is not you’re concern. Just summon her.” He’d given her an inch and she’d taken much more. He should have chastised her in the first place. Still, the fact that he hadn’t, that he’d been momentarily won over by a bit of flirtation, made him all the angrier at his bride. All it would take from her would be a smile, a kind word, and he’d feel so much more lenient toward her, so much more forgiving.
But she was such a stubborn little innocent that he didn’t expect to see a smile fromher anytime soon—so his methods of torturing her would continue. Yesterday he’d sent Kells and Lonya into the garden outside her window, knowing full well she’d be too bored and curious to resist looking out. According to his friend, Maven’s eyes had been seen at the narrow window for the length of their encounter. Surely her pussy had been left humming with desire and her mind spinning with curiosity about sex. One couldn’t know exactly what her Orientation had entailed—that was a very private business—but whether or not she’d actually been trained by example, he felt confident that watching Kells and Lonya had heightened all the longings that had surely been brewing for some time in a ripe virgin of bride’s age.
Now he would take his sensual torture a step further.
He lay with his hands propped behind his head, his feet crossed at the ankles, when a soft knock came on the door. “Enter,” he said.
Maven came in dressed casually, wearing a fitted tunic of pale tan leather and a short skirt of thin fur. As always, her hair was braided behind her head— he lookedforward to seeing it down around her shoulders later tonight.
She
“Mmm, lover, was it good?” the girl asked.
Maven barely heard Kells’ quiet answer. “Astounding.”
To her surprise, something made her stop touching herself then. Because they were done? Because fear of Dane had squelched some of her arousal?
She tried to convince herself those were the reasons, but deep inside she knew it was something else.
She was to be married tomorrow, after all. She was to join Dane in his bed tomorrow night.
She still didn’t want to fuck him—certainly not. But if she had to, well then…something inside told her she may as well just let her next orgasm be onedelivered the more traditional way, by someone else, rather than by her own hand.
It had nothing to do with wanting it to come from Dane, she told herself once more
for good measure—no, nothing to do with that at all.
It was about…tradition. Yes, tradition. Lavonia had told her fucking came with many ancient urges and traditions and that, ideally, your partner should make you come. And just because Maven didn’t believe in the traditions surrounding royal marriage didn’t mean she didn’t believe in the traditions of sex.
58
Rituals of Passion
That was the only reason she was saving her next orgasm for Dane. The only reason.
* * * * *
Dane lay on his bed comfortably watching the two maids travel back and forth into his chamber with ewers of hot water, slowly filling his bathing tub. Dahlia and Ofran were both pretty young women in their twenties, a few years younger than himself, andboth had pleasured him on more than one occasion.
“Dahlia,” he said to the raven-haired girl, “before your next trip, summon my bridehere.”
Looking up from where she poured the water, Dahlia quirked a small smile. “Before the wedding, master?”
Clearly, it was possible to wear impudence much better than Maven had—one, like Dahlia, could even make it appealing. He knew he should reprimand her for the question, but her flirtatious smile was all it took to quell his complaint. He simply returned her amused expression. “Don’t worry, I can wait until tonight to take her
virginity.”
“Then for what purpose—?”
His smile faded. “That is not you’re concern. Just summon her.” He’d given her an inch and she’d taken much more. He should have chastised her in the first place. Still, the fact that he hadn’t, that he’d been momentarily won over by a bit of flirtation, made him all the angrier at his bride. All it would take from her would be a smile, a kind word, and he’d feel so much more lenient toward her, so much more forgiving.
But she was such a stubborn little innocent that he didn’t expect to see a smile fromher anytime soon—so his methods of torturing her would continue. Yesterday he’d sent Kells and Lonya into the garden outside her window, knowing full well she’d be too bored and curious to resist looking out. According to his friend, Maven’s eyes had been seen at the narrow window for the length of their encounter. Surely her pussy had been left humming with desire and her mind spinning with curiosity about sex. One couldn’t know exactly what her Orientation had entailed—that was a very private business—but whether or not she’d actually been trained by example, he felt confident that watching Kells and Lonya had heightened all the longings that had surely been brewing for some time in a ripe virgin of bride’s age.
Now he would take his sensual torture a step further.
He lay with his hands propped behind his head, his feet crossed at the ankles, when a soft knock came on the door. “Enter,” he said.
Maven came in dressed casually, wearing a fitted tunic of pale tan leather and a short skirt of thin fur. As always, her hair was braided behind her head— he lookedforward to seeing it down around her shoulders later tonight.
She
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