Vision of Light [The Renegades 1] (9 page)

Tenderness is good.
It gave him time to enjoy every movement of lips and tongues, to drink the intoxicating taste of her, to revel in every surface and crevice along her teeth and the recess of her mouth. A soft groan vibrated in the back of her throat as her fingers weaved in his hair to press his head close.

"Sweet Aislan.” He kissed her over and over again. How soft and pliant she was. Her mouth locked with his, her lips clinging. Her breath came in tiny, raspy gasps, which he swallowed. Her soft tongue brushed against his, and he became totally involved with her taste. He bit her tongue lightly, and then stopped himself. How could he have forgotten so quickly?
No biting.
Aislan gave a tiny moan and her body convulsed.
Just a tiny bite,
and he took a nip of her lower lip and then laved it.
And another one.
He bit her upper lip lightly. Lucien had never broken any woman's skin with bites even when the women demanded that. He did not like the taste of blood, so he always plied teeth to skin very carefully.

Aislan sighed fetchingly. He took her long, flaxen braid and wrapped it once in his fist, tugging her head back, but very gently until she arched. He released her mouth. She breathed in gratifying, tortuous pants, her breath coming out in sharp gasps as she stared at him. He liked the glazed look in her eyes. Her lovely, dark blue eyes enthralled him. Tight as a coiled spring, Lucien tried to pace himself and control his raging lust.

"You are so beautiful. I have never seen anything as exquisite as you.” He smoothed her cheek before he picked up her cloak from the ground and draped it over his shoulder. Lifting her delicate body in his arms, he carried her away from the openness of the riverbank to the soft, grassy ground. She wrapped her arms about his neck and pressed her face against his throat. Her breath against his skin caused his body to wind tighter. His cock twitched in protest from the anticipated long delay, but it would have to wait.

Lucien set her down, stopping for a moment to press his mouth against the smooth wing of her brow before he kissed his way to her earlobe, then nuzzled the satiny column of her throat. When he finally pulled away, she stood still as he shook the cloak once, the motion spreading it as it fell flat on the ground. She sighed as she looked at it.

"We do only what you want to,” he said earnestly and meant it, wanting her to know he would settle for kisses until she had adjusted. “I'll stop. Tell me to, at any time."

She nodded. “I know,” she whispered, but she seemed nervous.

He could not stop looking at her. She was a stunning beauty, her heart-shaped face unique, her alabaster skin flawless. Her eyes held him spellbound, her soft lips begging for more kisses. Lucien had had his share of bedding beautiful women, the royal court providing the glamorous, fertile ground for the most glittering to congregate. No woman could match the allure of this enchanting woman who enveloped his senses with her mere presence, holding him in throes of lust, captivating him completely.

Her hands slid up his shoulders. “I am not afraid,” she whispered.

He controlled his excitement. There would be time for his excitement later. Right now, he needed to soothe her and court her into total compliance. “Tell me what you want."

"Whatever ... you want."

Lucien doubted it. Aislan had been married for four years, certainly no stranger to sex. However, she did not look like she had ever been kissed properly. She had not touched her dead husband in any loving manner, had shed no particular tear for him. There was no love lost, as evident by the circlet removed from her hair and the ring she had thrown away. Lucien did not know the extent of abuse Temple must have inflicted on Aislan to make her despair enough to attempt suicide, and he would not add more injury to her.

"You are not ready for—whatever,” he assured her, but she only looked at him curiously. He knew better than to think she would allow perversity of any kind. She was a lady, not a whore he could twist and mold into various positions. Normally, he would not have touched her, but damn it all, she looked more than willing. Neither a fool nor a saint, Lucien had no intention of talking himself out of fucking her, especially when he felt feverish from wanting her.

He bent and brushed his mouth against hers, back and forth several times, softly, then firmly, then softly again, and she opened her mouth. Lucien tasted her upper lip, grasped the lush bottom one in a firm but not rough suck, tasting her, savoring her as he lowered her to the ground until she sat on top of the cloak, and he knelt next to her side. He brushed the neckline of her wet tunic down her shoulders to give him access to her creamy skin. He resisted the urge to lick and suck every inch of the satiny surface, for now anyhow. Drawing back, he pulled her tunic up and over her head, taking his time to enjoy her skin, looking and touching as he exposed her body. He pushed her torn shift downward until her bountiful breasts sprung free.

"Lovely.” Lucien cupped one curve, which overflowed his sizably large hand as he kneaded the succulent roundness. “So luscious."

Not denying his other hand the pleasure, he cupped and squeezed the two perfect globes to his heart's content but kept his control under tight rein. The small, pale nubs of her nipples puckered with her arousal. Aislan watched his hands at play, arching her spine so those wondrous breasts thrust upward towards his face, inviting his taste. Breathing harshly from his excitement, he enclosed his mouth around the silky nub and pale areola. Her nipple hardened against his tongue, and he sucked harder, feasting on the small, pink bud, and then laving his way to the other treasure.

"Such perfect tits—ah—breasts.” Lucien took one of her hands and placed it over her breasts. “Show me how beautiful you are. Squeeze them, Aislan.” She hesitated but only for a second, then she started squeezing and massaging herself. He pinched her nipple, and she gasped and then pinched it herself. They both watched her hand and his roam all over her body.

Every inch of her smooth skin made his mouth water. While they both continued kneading her breasts, he pressed kisses below her ear, tasting the soft flesh. His mouth brushed against the soft silk of her hair. He buried his face in the fragrant strands and savored the light lavender smell of her before moving down to the slender column of her throat. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips against the pulse beating there, feeling dizzy from his lust for her. Her fetching sighs only incited him further.

Quivering in his arms, she released her breast and took his face in her hands, urging it downward until he nestled between the two generous globes. She pulled at his hair a little roughly. Smiling, he sucked her nipple, brushing his tongue back and forth and around the hard nub. As she groaned, Lucien could feel gooseflesh prickling along her skin.

"Oh, yes ... more.” She whispered exactly the words he wanted to hear. He wanted her compliance, her willingness, her eagerness.

"You are delightful, so soft—like cream. I want to taste all of you, lick every delectable inch.” And taste he did, trying not to be too greedy by gobbling her up like a scrumptious meal.
Slow and easy
, he kept reminding himself. He would taste her little by little, taking his time to make paradise last as long as possible.

Once he had covered her exposed skin with enough kisses, he unlaced her half-tattered shift quickly and tossed it on top of her tunic beside them. He returned to her breast to squeeze it, always mindful of his strength even in his eagerness. Lucien reached behind her and pulled her braided hair up front. Loosening the tie at the end, he unwound the strands, combing his fingers through, smoothing her hair back until it framed her face like spun gold, the tresses still partially damp from her bath in the river. Caressing the golden locks, he enjoyed the softness against his fingers. She looked ravishing. He pulled one thick strand to the front and let the flaxen silk cascade over one breast.

She was a gloriously beautiful woman, so physically perfect, and so exquisitely feminine. Despite her serenity, he had seen her fearless defiance, a trait he admired, especially in someone so delicate looking. Rational enough, Lucien knew better than to confuse the living and breathing woman here and now with the menacing Witch of Damnation who would do whatever he wanted. He would take his time and woo her with all the courtly manners he had practiced when the occasion called for them, but never had he felt so fervent. He wanted her beyond all doubt, beyond all reason.

"You look perfect, like an angel.” And she was an angel to him, his angel.

"Milord, you are blind with lust."

"Mad with lust,” he agreed readily. “Insane with wanting you."

He removed his baldric and placed the weapons aside. Then he unlaced her braes, trying not to tear any more of her clothes, even though the prospect of traipsing about with her naked more than appealed to him. He rolled her wet braes down over her slim hips. She had a very tiny waist. Her pubic hair was the same light blonde color as the hair on her lovely head, so faint, nearly invisible, and glistening with the dew of her honey. The pink folds of her pouty labia mesmerized him. He swallowed and licked his lips, hard-pressed not to bury his mouth in her pussy forthwith and eat her like a ravenous fiend. He probed into the soft folds of her perfection. Wet and dripping, she coated his fingers with her juices.

Lucien wiped his fingers across her lips to gloss them, then pushed his digits into her mouth and rubbed against the softness of her tongue. She stared at him, her eyes wide as she tasted herself. He followed up with his tongue, licking the tasty muskiness from her lips before dipping in to partake of her delectable mouth. Kissing her deeply, he nibbled with a gentle thoroughness that still left him hungry and craving for more.

"Tasty.” He rubbed his fingers along her chin, and then licked her creamy juices off her flesh. His hand went back between her thighs. She was sopping wet.
Holy fuck.

"Cannot let this go to waste. I must drink all of it,” he muttered. He parted her legs and settled between them, fingers probing to open the succulent pink folds. He petted the juicy lips, circling the clit. “Oh, ‘tis nice."

"Mmm.” Aislan jumped and then groaned, her body writhing back and forth, her gorgeous breasts heaving. She spread her legs wide, presenting a delightful sight.

Courtly manners be damned. There was no way to eat her pussy politely. Lucien pitched forward, head burrowing, nostrils flaring. His mouth opened over the perfumed wealth and took possession. He licked her cum.

"Delicious.” He sucked her rapturously. Digging into heaven, he lapped at her spread thighs, tongue slipping inside, smoothing over the nub of her clit again and again. She moaned and groaned enticingly while he savored her taste, her smell, her feel. Sucking on her clit, he stabbed his tongue around it, sucking hard, probing, sucking harder. She writhed about in total abandon.

"Oh, oh, oh,
oh
!” she shrieked, every syllable poetry to his ears. Bucking, she climaxed quickly, her creamy juices filling his mouth. He drank of her essence, allowing it to trickle down his throat only after he had savored its coating on all his taste buds, unrivaled even by the finest wine. He gave her a final kiss between the nectarous folds before sliding up to suck briefly on each nipple and then up to kiss her mouth.

"Open your eyes,” he commanded. “Look at me."

Aislan obeyed, her face delightfully dazed.

He doffed his clothes quickly, and once divested of his braes, he smiled at her expression. She stared at his engorged cock, her mouth agape. Lucien, for a moment forgetting all about her being a lady, envisioned all the things he wanted to do with such a gorgeous mouth, how it would surround his cock, sucking him down her throat, drinking him as he had drunk of her. But not yet. He needed to fuck her first and seek release for his ten inches of weeping misery.

How could he keep forgetting?
Gentle. Slow. Gentle. Slow.
He behaved like a randy young boy with his first wench instead of the libertine he was, one who had indulged in too many promiscuous relationships, caring not a whit for any woman until now.

He touched her pussy again. She gushed, drenching wet.

"How ready your lovely body is,” he noted and took her hand, wrapping her fingers about his cock. She tightened her hold, her expression intense as he worked her fingers up and down. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.” He caught himself.
Damnation. No more crudity in her presence!

"Yes, I want, please..."

"I'll try to be gentle,” he panted hoarsely as he moved her hand aside and took himself in hand. “I'll go in halfway until you get used to it.” He would try not to ram her to the hilt. He did not want to break her frail bones by humping away like a mindless brute. He had to control himself and take her nice and easy their first time together. Never in his life had Lucien been this excruciatingly slow.

"Tell me what you want,” he groaned. Pre-cum dripped from his cock as he pressed the bulbous crown lightly at the entrance of her sweet, little cunt. He did not know how much longer he could last. At the snail's pace he had set for himself, he probably would shoot off a load before he could get inside her.

"Please.” She lifted her hips until the blood-red head pressed further in the pink, silky folds.

"Please what?” He held hard onto his control. She had to set the pace.

"All please."

He groaned.
Damn it. Easy. Slow.

"Now, please!” she panted as she wrapped her legs behind his thighs, grabbed him by the hair on his head, and pulled both his head and his hips forward.

Ah, fuck!
He forgot all about easy and slow as he thrust to the hilt, hard and deep into the tight clasp of her hot and wet pussy.

Aislan gasped sharply at the abrupt pressure of his penetration deep within her body that pushed her womb as he stretched and filled her to the hilt.

"Damnation!” Lucien groaned hoarsely above her, his arms straining as he eased off her to relieve the pressure of him inside her. Her thighs shook as he pulled out slowly, the wideness of his girth scraping along the muscles of her vagina. She sensed his visible struggle to go slow as he thrust back in again, and then again and again. She wanted to faint from the acute pleasure mixed with a tinge of pain of each deep thrust. He slowly increased his pace until she adjusted to the tension of his girth and length. Soon, he pumped steadily and quickly up the channel and deep into the core of her being.