What She Craves (18 page)

The sound of the door opening caused a growl to vibrate through her, and his body disappeared from her touch.
No!
She dropped her hands to her lap with a muffled thud and fought with her conscience not to call him back.

“Pardon, sire,” a woman's pert voice said. “I'm here to ready her for the rites.”

Sire?

He grunted, then footsteps fell on the wood floor and the door opened and shut. Her breath came out in a whoosh. Why did he leave? She wanted to know him, to see him with her eyes, to continue the intimacy that they had created.

A pull came at the cord securing the hood over her head and then it lifted. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. The young girl wore a maid's uniform of dark gray and white.

She curtsied and smiled. “Mum, I'm here to prepare you for the rites.”

“What are the rites?” Jessica stared at her.

“I'm sorry, mum, I'm not allowed to say.”

Humph. Jessica looked around the room as the maid unbuttoned her dress. The fabric lifted from her body, and the maid's fingers tugged and pulled to unlace her stays. Burning candles lined the room, casting a warm glow on stone walls hung with tapestries.

Her eyes widened as the scenes of naked men and women, doing shocking things to each other, filtered in through her mind. She shivered as the sensation of the man touching her breasts returned to her.

The stays pulled from her body, and she stood in nothing but her chemise and stockings. The images intrigued her; she had always wanted to know about the mating act, and being a spinster, she had given up hope.

The man's sex stood straight out from his body, and in some of the scenes it pushed between the woman's legs, sometimes from behind, sometimes from the front.

A tingling pricked the flesh between her thighs, and she shifted her stance. Over thirty scenes in total graced the walls, and in each one, the man and the woman mated in different positions.

Her breath caught as her gaze settled on a scene vividly depicting what the man's sex intended. The woman lay on her back with her knees bent and legs spread wide to reveal a hollow between her thighs. The man stood between her legs, and his sex pressed into the opening.

Jessica's heart sped and her nipples tightened. That ridge she caressed on his thigh was his sex, and the curls she felt with her fingers was the hair his phallus sprang from. She was a mere touch away from discovering what his sex felt like. The heat of the skin beneath the curls of his sex had scorched under her touch. What would it feel like to have that thick heated ridge pressed into her like the women in the tapestries?

“Raise your arms, mum.”

She raised her arms and her chemise lifted from her body. Oh my! She knew it would feel good. How could being so intimately joined bring anything but pleasure? Her skin burned with excitement and fear. She looked down at a light shade of pink gracing her skin. Did she want to experience loving here in this strange place? She bit her lip, the question swirling in her mind.

The maid pulled out Jessica's hairpins and ran her fingers through the long tresses, spilling it over her shoulders.

“Please stand over the basin so that I may wash you for the ceremony.”

Jessica hesitated; the maid was going to wash her. She eyed the small shallow tub. Had she a choice? Not if she wanted to learn what the rites were.

With her legs straddled over the basin, the maid lathered the soap and washed Jessica's legs. The higher the slippery cloth wandered, the more her muscles jumped and tightened. She stared at the couple mating in the scene on the wall. “What is this ceremony?” she asked again.

The maid remained silent.

The cloth skimmed up to the top of her thigh and a prickling sensation bubbled through her body. The rag grazed over her private place, and her flesh throbbed as intense pleasure flooded that part of her body. She gasped.

Without a doubt the pictures on the walls somehow made her sex more sensitive.

The maid smiled. “They will be pleased with you, mum.”

She gazed down at the top of the girl's head. What a strange thing to say. “Why?”

“Your reaction to the tapestries. You are aroused.”

What?
“I don't understand.”

The cloth parted the folds between her legs and brushed between. Her eyes snapped shut and she trembled with heated pleasure that weakened her knees. She sighed and savored the new experience. It was a bit embarrassing to have someone wash her so, but at the same time, the sensation was splendid.

The maid stood and reached for a bottle filled with what looked like oil. Pouring it into her palm, she knelt, rubbed her hands together, and ran her fingers through the curls and folds of Jessica's sex. Waves of intense need pulsed through Jessica, and the muscles between her legs clenched in a blissful, rolling flash of light. Her vision hazed. My stars, what was that?

The maid stood and smiled. Grasping the folded white robe from the stool, she wrapped it about her.

Jessica stumbled to the only chair and sat. Goodness. This entire night was just beyond her imagination.

A knock came on the door.

Would it be her captor back to claim her for this ceremony? She wanted it to be. Her curiosity over the feelings he provoked in her was too tempting to let go. The door opened, and to her disappointment, a boy entered with a tray of fruit, cheese, and wine. He placed it on the now-empty stool and left. She sat and ate while the little maid gathered up her clothing.

A faint screech reached her and then the sound of a cracking whip. The hairs on her arms stood and she closed her eyes. Was that part of the ceremony? Would she be whipped? Icy sweat lifted the hairs on her neck, and she jerked to her feet in fear.

A loud gong sounded and the little maid stood.

“It's time, mum. Please come with me.”

Jessica hesitated, the sound of the whip ringing though her mind. She glanced at the door; if she wanted to see her captor, she needed to go. Anticipation of his touch drowned out all her fear, and she left the room with the little maid.

T
hey entered the hallway, as others did from rooms scattered along the long corridor. The stone floor chilled her bare feet and she trembled, her nipples pebbling beneath the thin covering of her cotton robe. Jessica stood on her tiptoes trying get a glimpse of the hall ahead of her.

Torches lined the hall and at the end, the corridor opened into a large chamber filled with golden light. Ten women and maids stood in a line stretching the length of the hall. She stood in the middle.

“Let go of me!” The curly brown-haired petite woman in front of Jessica struggled with her rather large maid in an attempt to flee.

She recognized the woman's voice as the girl from the boat. Odd as it was, she never even considered escape. Where would she go? They were in some sort of castle, and there were too many people about. Moreover, her curiosity about the rites and her captor made her stay.

A large man in shirt and waistcoat approached with a length of silk rope stretched between his hands. He grabbed the woman's wrists in one of his hands. “'Tis all right, miss.” His voice gentled as, with quick jerks, he bound her hands as she sobbed and struggled.

Jessica's maid glanced at her. “Don't worry, mum, she will be excused from the rites. They will not force anyone to participate. There truly is nothing to fear.”

Jessica bit her lip and watched as the small woman quivered with fear, fear she didn't feel herself. She believed her maid; this place did not scare her.

Staring at the man as he led the woman back to one of the rooms, she searched his face, looking for cat eyes. His gaze settled on her briefly before passing. No, his eyes were normal, plain brown human eyes. Hmm. Maybe the wine she drank played tricks on her. She had just admired those same green eyes in the glass beads at the fair.

The gong sounded again and her shoulders trembled. She wanted to see what lay at the end of the hall. The line of women slowly paced forward. Following one after the other, they traversed a long hall; white robes billowing out in the pathway as a slight breeze pushed against them.

Jessica's heart pounded in her ears. What lay ahead? She wanted her captor to appear, to take her and touch her breasts the way he had in the room before the maid entered. The air turned warm and sweet as lilacs as they neared the light at the end of the hall.

Reaching the main room, the remaining women were ushered down a series of curved stone stairs to a center circle. In the middle stood a single wooden ladder-backed chair with no arms and a stone table like altar. She imagined some sort of offering happening here.

Her skin tingled with anticipation as her imagination went wild. What would happen in this room? Would she witness the scenes from the tapestries? Or was this ceremony for something more sinister? No, nothing had happened thus far to indicate anything harmful would occur. Just the contrary, she had only experienced bliss from a man she never laid her sight on.

Two large black-painted doors opened to the right of them, and a line of naked men and women of varying ages entered. Jessica's gaze locked on the first woman's eyes and her breath caught. Deep blue cat eyes. She studied the next person who entered and the next one. Each of the naked beings possessed cat eyes, and their hair hung in long tails down their backs. She hadn't imagined it. Where was her captor?

Her gaze darted through the crowd, searching for the intense green eyes of the man who possessed her in town, but he was not among them. Dash it. She inhaled deeply to squelch her disappointment. Had she imagined those green eyes?

One naked woman strode to the center of the circle, and the rest of the cat-people filled the tiers lining the room. A bang came from above and Jessica looked up.

Above the center of the room hung a circular balcony filled with older cat beings. A reddish-haired man with thick gray streaks in his hair slammed his cane on the rail once more. Everyone looked up and the room hummed with concealed excitement. Every nerve in her body tingled as if a feather caressed her skin. She could do nothing but await the upcoming rites.

The woman in the center was beautiful, with long multi-colored hair that hung in a straight line to her waist, like a tail on a calico cat. Dark peach nipples stood at a point on her breasts and red hair flamed between her legs. Jessica wet her lips. What was to happen with this beautiful woman?

The calico growled and grunted to the crowd, and when she turned fully to Jessica, her eyes flashed a crystal-clear blue with an oblong center that grew. Just like the eyes of the man who had carried her from the green.

Her facial features were human but with subtle differences—the nose had a thick bridge, a deep ridge below her nose possessed the same hue as her lips, the top of her ears came to a point and she possessed no earlobes. The painting she saw in the village had not been one of fantastic imagination. The artist had seen these beings. It was almost too fantastic to be real.

A gong rang three times, and the woman motioned to the other side of the room. The young virgin men stepped forward into the circle. They were dressed in black robes and lined up facing the calico.

She motioned to the virgins' companions, and each robe opened up the front, revealing the young man's sex standing straight from his body, like on the tapestries. Jessica's eyes widened and she worked to force her jaw not to drop open. Goodness.

She shamelessly studied each man's manhood. They possessed different lengths and widths, one of them even curved to the side. Her chest tightened and her skin dewed. She had never considered that they might be different. Fascinating. How many women ever knew this fact? Most women would only ever see their husbands.

The calico walked down the line sniffing the air, then pointed to one man with red hair and to the one with the curved sex. Both came forward with easy smiles on their faces. They did not appear frightened; in fact, they seemed fascinated by her. Their chests rose and fell and the one with the red hair kept fisting his hands as if to keep from reaching out to touch her.

She circled them, then reached out and grasped their manhood, one in each hand.

“Oh God,” the redhead said, and he closed his eyes.

The other groaned, his buttocks clenching as he spilled his seed onto the floor.

My goodness
. Jessica could not tear her gaze from them. Her heart pounded so fast in her chest she could see it in her breasts, and she could barely catch her breath. Did that happen often? How amazing that a man could spend his seed just from the touch of a woman's hand.

Smiling, the woman released the one with the curved sex and pulled the redhead to the chair, pushing him to sit. He did so, staring at the calico with heavy-lidded eyes. The one with the curved sex returned to the line, his face the color of a cherry.

Jessica's breath hitched as the woman clutched the man's erect shaft and stroked from base to tip. Her hand rotated about the top and the redhead groaned. He reached up and cupped the woman's breasts and the calico growled.

This was the rites and Jessica's desire to view this act as she'd viewed the scene on the tapestries shocked her. She wanted to see the mating of a human with her own eyes. The image of the man's phallus pressing into the hollow between the woman's legs from the tapestries flashed before her.

Blast it; she was not quite close enough to see if his staff slid into her body, if she could only move a little closer. Shifting her stance and inching a bit, she found a better view.

The young man's phallus swelled and the tip turned a more intense red. The calico straddled the chair, trailed her hands up the man's chest, and kissed him with an open mouth. He returned the kiss with equal ardor. Rocking her hips with each move of her mouth over his, the flesh between the calico's legs shimmered with moisture…Or was it the oil? Her fingers circled the man's nipples, then pinched.

Ouch! Didn't that hurt? Jessica rubbed her hand over her pebble-hard nipples, trying to imagine that kind of caress.

The redhead groaned as if the touch pleased him, then reached out with shaking hands and grasped the woman's waist. He obviously enjoyed the pinch. Did women as well? Her fingers lightly plucked the buds beneath her cotton robe and she gasped. A stingy pressure radiated the nipple, yet her body trembled. How odd.

The redhead's fingers clutched at the calico's flesh, grinding each press of her hips against his stomach. A low rumble of a purr came from the calico, and her hand traveled down his stomach to his penis. She clutched the stiffness and squeezed. The redhead's head jerked, hitting the back of the chair, and his body arched toward her.

That touch seemed to startle him, but he didn't push her away. The calico slid her hand up and down the skin, slipping back and forth. Jessica wanted to know what a man's sex felt like. It looked hard and stiff, just like her finger, but a penis didn't possess bone. After the curved-sex man had spent his seed, it had collapsed. Hmmm.

His hands slid to the calico's bottom and massaged as he pulled her toward him. The tip of his sex pressed to the woman's glimmering lips, and with a small thrust, the deep red point disappeared inside her body. He inhaled through clenched teeth and the calico cried out, sinking down fully into his lap as she tossed her head from side to side.

Amazing. His sex thrust right in. Wetness slid down Jessica's leg from between her thighs. Oh, that strange delightful sensation. The dew coated her sex and the flesh tingled. She wanted to reach down and touch herself, to feel that hollow and find out why it now grew moist when viewing such an event.

Growls resounded throughout the room, pulling her attention to the fact she was not the only one watching them.

Oh goodness, what are you doing?
Glancing around at the others in the chamber, a good two feet lay between her and the rest of the virgins. Her cheeks blazed with warmth. This should be a private act and she ogled them.

Tilting her head down, she inched her way backward toward the line. Only a couple more steps and she would stop making a spectacle of herself.

Sliding one more foot backward, she collided with a large male. A long ridge pressed to her buttocks; recognizing it as his sex, she gasped. Spices and sandalwood enveloped her. He was the man who had carried her. Her captor. Chills raced her skin. She wanted him to touch her.

A gentle finger slid beneath her chin and raised her head to watch the calico and redhead. Her eyes fluttered as heat spread through her so hot she couldn't hold back the groan that came from deep inside her.

The couple in the center panted and growled, clutching each other as the calico raised herself up to the tip of the man's stiff rod and sank back down.

Jessica shamelessly watched as the gentle finger beneath her chin stroked her in the same rhythm as the mating taking place in the ring. The need his touch created in her was exhilarating. Her nipples ached and her knees weakened, swaying her body back into his.

His naked length pressed to hers and bubbles of delight coursed straight through her body. Everything about him was different than her. His strong hard muscles pressed to her soft flesh; his coarse hairs tickled her smooth skin.

Trailing his hand to her throat, he found her pulse, then with a feather-light touch stroked it. She bit her lip and trembled. Why did his touch affect her so?

“Oh…my…God!” the redhead cried out as his body clenched, and he held the calico seated in his lap.

The calico purred.

Jessica held her breath, wanting the eyes of this man who touched her to be the green she saw in the village. She turned her head toward the man. Intense green cat eyes observed her. He was her captor. She hadn't imagined those eyes.

He had wanted her to watch this event, the rites. Her chest rose and fell and her heart raced. Did he intend to do this act with her? Her head spun at the scandalous thought.

Goodness, he was handsome, with reddish-brown hair and a narrow nose.

He grunted, stepped beside her. With his head he indicated the couple in the center.

Masculinity hung in an aura about him; he stood naked, his chest sculpted like lean marble and his shoulders held broad. Her hand rose as if to touch his chest, but with so many people around, she didn't dare.

The distinct sensation of him carrying her returned. She swallowed hard, then licked her lips to moisten them. Letting her gaze travel lower to his abdomen, she viewed a sprinkling of curled ruddy hairs.

His stomach muscles clenched and he growled. Before she could look lower, he turned and descended through the crowd. The people standing in the great room parted to let him pass.

No! Don't leave again
. Her eyes focused on the muscles of his well-shaped buttocks as he disappeared into the crowd.

The tingling sensations of his touch lingered as well as the dampness between her thighs. Closing her eyes, she imagined him fondling her breasts the way the redhead in the center had cupped the calico's. His green eyes watching her every expression as he weighed the round swell of her bounty. She trembled. Oh how she wanted that actual caress.

Turning her gaze back to the ring, she gasped. Every cat eye in the room stared at her; even the woman in the center of the ring turned her way. The man she still straddled looked up at her too.