The Rightful Lord (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 3), Sahara Kelly [english novels for students .TXT] 📗

I settled atop his legs, I found myself curious to try something I’d read about. So I leaned down and let my breasts, meagre though they are, form a cradle for his length.

He gasped, a wonderful sound since I am usually the one gasping. So I encouraged him to move as I pressed my flesh around his cock. At first it felt strange, so I paused and used my mouth to add a little moisture to his skin. Returning to squeeze him between my breasts, he slid so smoothly that we both sighed with delight.

I experimented, I admit. As he moved, I let my fingers rub my nipples, adding to my excitement. By the time he told me to stop lest he come right then and there, I was more than ready to agree and hastened up his body to hover over his rigid length, and then sink down, taking every bit of it inside me.

And oh, how wonderful it felt. 

Gabriel fits me perfectly. I rode him slowly at first, rising until he was almost free, then sliding back down, easily encompassing him, feeling his sac beneath my backside as I put my weight on him.

His eyes watched me, the firelight dancing over his pale skin and hair. My own faerie prince permitting me to bring us both pleasure. The friction in my body was divine and I’ll confess to prolonging the moment just so that I could savour the desire within me. 

I wished we could do this for hours. I wished to rise and fall on this wonderful instrument of passion until my muscles gave out. I lost myself in the growing sensation spreading from my loins to my breasts to my throat, and scarce knew that my hands had lifted to my nipples.

Gabriel’s hand drifted to my body, stroking my sweet place with tender care. In truth, once I am so very aroused a direct touch can be painful, so his gentle caresses were most welcome, as they increased my wanton needs.

How long did we ride like this?

I cannot tell. 

But I do recall feeling Gabriel’s body grow taut, even as I pinched my nipples, finding the little pain to be agonisingly wonderful. I was so close, his fingers, my flesh, all blending into an enormous growing volcano.

And, of course, it had to erupt. 

My release was overwhelming, robbing my lungs of breath and my mind of thoughts as I lowered myself one last time and let my body free. Inside I could feel Gabriel’s cock throbbing as he filled me, urging my spasms to continue, fueling the lustful explosion that tore me from reality and tossed me into a blissful maelstrom of erotic pleasure.

We shuddered, locked together, for what seemed like an eternity. And, at last, we tumbled free, limp and fully sated.

As is his way, Gabriel gathered me into his embrace. “No more tears tonight, love,” he said softly, kissing me with lips that still trembled from his release.

And I replied, “No more tears. Thanks to you.” 

I fell asleep, warm, contented and relaxed, and my last thought was not of trouble or worry, but of how very lucky I am to have Gabriel and the rest of my gentlemen in my life.

*~~*~~*

The weather continued cold, varying between days of icy brilliant sunshine with winds sharp enough to turn ears and noses bright red, and others when the clouds stayed low and grey and bitter drizzle made doing anything outside a chore to be done as fast as possible.

In other words, a typical winter.

Gwyneth missed the warmth of summer, her harsh experiences a year ago having created a dislike of being cold. But Wolfbridge was well supplied with wood, and a large Yule log had been brought in with a certain amount of difficulty by her gentlemen.

It was nearing Christmas, and she had seized a sunny afternoon, bundling up from toes to eyebrows and dashing from tree to tree, gathering pine boughs to decorate indoors.

A trove of old ribbons had been discovered on one of the forays into the attic, so Gabriel and Evan were tasked with adding some festive bows to the fragrant pine. Since the curtains were drawn against the darkness by late afternoon, most of Gwyneth’s days were spent in the cosy confines of her favourite rooms.

Royce had sent off his messages to London, so now the only thing they could all do was wait for a response.

Never the most patient of people, Jeremy fretted the most.

She felt for him; he had suffered the most recently, and the shadow of Susanna’s death hung heavily over him from time to time.

So she made sure she spent time with him, welcomed him to her bed either alone or with another, and the nights with him and Evan were special in the joys of physical pleasure and also the laughter they always shared.

Everyone agreed with his suggestion that this was a good time to do an inventory of Wolfbridge and its contents. After all, he argued, what better moment could there be? They were mostly indoors anyway.

Although the house was clean and tidy thanks to the regular visits of a few girls happy to earn some extra pennies, there were many rooms that went unused by the current residents.

So a few days before Christmas, Gwyneth found herself in what was probably a lady’s private room on the floor above the bedrooms. There were plenty of bookshelves, but few books left, and those seemed to be instructional in nature.

“Here’s one,” Jeremy blew dust off it and coughed. “A Useful Guide to the Training of New Servants”.

“Hmm.” Gwyneth shot him an amused look. “Should I keep that in case you forget your duties?”

“I’m not a new servant,” he chuckled. “I’m getting to be quite an old one.”

“Pshaw,” she scoffed. “Well I have one for you. Would you like