The Sorceress of Belmair. Bertrice Small

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СКАЧАТЬ Now!”

      Cinnia suddenly found herself being drawn down into his lap, and onto his manhood. She gasped with surprise to find herself very wet and ready for him. How could this be? He had been violent with her, and not at all a lover. She moaned low as her burning buttocks made contact with his bare thighs, and she felt him inside her fully sheathed. “The servants!” she cried softly.

      “Will learn to be discreet,” he said as softly. “Now ride me, my queen, and ride me hard. If you do not give me pleasures, Cinnia, I will move us to the high board, and take you there until you do,” he threatened her. “I will lay your naked body upon that polished wood and make you scream for all in the castle to hear. Now, ride me!”

      Cinnia began to cry. “I don’t know how!” she sobbed.

      “Move yourself up and down upon my rod, my queen,” he told her, and when she began to comply he encouraged her, “That’s it, Cinnia. Now faster, and yet faster!”

      She jogged up and down upon his manhood, her pace growing quicker with each passing moment. He held her gently about the waist, encouraging her onward. Her eyes closed and she grew languid as in spite of herself Cinnia began to enjoy the conjunction between them. His hardness felt so good. He probed her deeply and suddenly something within her responded. “Oh, yes!” she cried low. “Yes!”

      Dillon smiled to himself. He had found her magic center. Every woman had one. It was just a matter of finding it. He helped her to help him work it, and very quickly Cinnia was whimpering as the pleasures began to flood her. “That’s it, my queen,” he murmured in her ear, and he kissed her mouth in a long and lingering kiss. This time she did not bite him. And then he felt the quivers within her beginning to rise up to overwhelm her. He allowed her the moment, and when she fell forward on his shoulder he gently lifted her off of his turgid manhood cradling her against his silk-covered chest. It would quiet itself shortly, and he was not at all ready to give up pleasures. The night was young. “Are you ready to eat now?” he asked her casually.

      “You are a horrible man,” Cinnia murmured, her eyes still closed.

      “When we have finished our meal I will show you some other places a man and a woman may take pleasures together,” he purred in her ear.

      She wanted to stand up, but she knew that right now she couldn’t. How was it possible that he could make her feel this way? But it felt so right nestling against him.

      Finally Cinnia thought she might stand up. “I’m ready now,” she told him, and arose from his lap wobbling just slightly. She felt his hand beneath her elbow and while she wanted to tell him she was perfectly capable of walking by herself, Cinnia didn’t dare because she knew it wasn’t true, and worse, so did he.

      He seated her at their high board and took his place next to her. And then as if by magic the servants began entering the hall with the steaming bowls and platters with their meal. If any of them had seen or heard what had just transpired between their master and their mistress, they showed no evidence of it. Dillon filled his plate with raw oysters, prawns, ham and meat pie. Cinnia took prawns, capon and an artichoke. There was bread, butter and cheese, which they shared.

      “The hall is too big for just the two of us,” Dillon noted. “Is there a smaller chamber we might use?”

      “My father always ate in the Great Hall,” Cinnia said.

      “I am not your father,” Dillon responded. “The hall is a grand place for entertaining, but you and I need a more intimate place to dine when we are alone.”

      “It is tradition…” she began.

      “Some traditions need to be changed. It is ridiculous for two people to eat in a hall built for great feasts. And it makes extra work for the servants who have to trot the length of this hall simply to bring us a platter or bowl so we may take a bit of food.” Dillon looked out over the hall to where the servants stood attentively awaiting an order.

      “Who is steward here?” he asked.

      A plump, short man stepped forward. “I am, Your Majesty. My name is Britto.” He bowed politely. “How may I serve Your Majesty?”

      “Is there a smaller chamber where the queen and I may eat when we are alone?” Dillon asked the steward.

      Britto’s brow furrowed in thought. Say no. The steward heard Cinnia’s voice in his head, for a quick look in her direction told him she had not spoken aloud. Say no! came the command again. “Your Majesty, I regret we have no other accommodation for your meals,” Britto said apologetically.

      “You are certain, Britto?”

      “Yes, Your Majesty, I am certain,” the stewart said nervously.

      “Then there is nothing else for it but that I make the Great Hall smaller when it is just the two of us,” Dillon replied calmly. “Hall, small,” he said. And suddenly the chamber walls seemed to move in, and the length of the room shrank by three-quarters.

      Britto’s eyes grew wide with his surprise, and the waiting servants murmured anxiously as they suddenly found themselves in a considerably smaller space.

      “What have you done?” Cinnia demanded to know.

      “It’s a simple charm,” Dillon told her. “When we leave the hall it will return to its original size. But if it is just the two of us, or we have fewer than ten guests, the hall will retain a lesser proportion. Your precious tradition is preserved, Cinnia.” He looked down at the steward, who still stood before the high board. “And in future, Britto, you will accept my orders over those of the queen. Do you understand?” Dillon picked up his wine cup and drank deeply.

      Britto swallowed hard. “I heard her, Your Majesty. Plain as day, I did, but she never opened her mouth,” the steward said, looking distressed.

      Dillon laughed. “I’m surprised all of Belmair didn’t hear her she was shouting at you so loud, Britto. Your mistress is a prankster, are you not, my queen?” He caught Cinnia’s hand up, and kissed it. “She will not do it again, however, will you, my pet? It really is not kind to frighten our good servants.”

      “I am sorry I startled you, Britto,” Cinnia said, extricating her hand from her husband’s. She glared at Dillon. “How did you know?” she murmured at him as the servants now returned to their duties and began clearing the high board of the dishes.

      “Speaking silently comes naturally to me,” he told her. “That is one of the ways my mother first knew of my talents. Certainly you didn’t think I wouldn’t hear you?”

      “Why did the dragon pick you?” Cinnia responded with her own question.

      “Because she needs a sorcerer with true strength, and I am he,” Dillon replied. “You simply do not have the skills to overcome whatever magic is at work in Belmair. I do. But I will need your help. The dragon would not have taught you magic if you could not be of help to me. You must stop being angry at me, Cinnia, because I am king. You could not rule by those traditions that you seem to hold so dear. And you will never lose your fear of taking pleasures with me until you stop being afraid of losing yourself to our passion, for there is great passion between us. You are my wife. I want no other woman.”

      “How can you say that and mean it?” Cinnia said. “Until several days ago I knew nothing of you. But within moments of our meeting we were wed. And СКАЧАТЬ