Thirteen

ADALENE’S EYELIDS dropped like lead, and she almost laughed inside his kiss. Indulge in an exercise, indeed. Since his very first kiss this noon, this felt more like an enjoyable pastime – the best she had ever had in her life!
Then his lips moved over hers caressingly, more insistently, and she lost all thoughts. She knew from experience this was only going to get better and she couldn’t help but moan as his lips pressed harder. It should have been embarrassing, but she was so excited she wasn’t thinking about that anymore.
The first time he kissed her, he dazed her so well she couldn’t think straight. But now she wanted more of this. She opened trembling lips so his exploring tongue could enter, and there was a grunt of approval from him, followed by a playful flick of his tongue to her tongue.
She smiled again and shyly flicked back at him. There began the serious play of their tongues as the kiss only went deeper and hotter... and she stopped thinking altogether as it consumed her. She felt so free because, at that moment, she knew she was free.
His hand felt for her knee under the table. She lost her gasp to the kiss when he pulled at her skirt until he reached the hem and flicked it over to reach for naked skin. He held her thigh and pulled her towards him, and she complied, sliding halfway off her seat until his hand could reach the apex between her legs. She thought of the servants, her cheeks aflame. The screened doors to the kitchen and other rooms beyond faced the other side, while the musician’s balcony was above them, with the doors to the hallway towards the bedchambers firmly closed below it. If they could see them, they wouldn’t know what was happening under the table because of the long tablecloth.
But they could guess.
She could not mind anymore because she could not stop kissing him back. She didn’t want to stop him for whatever reason. Under the table, she felt something snap. He’d torn her undergarment again to get it out of his way, and she couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her lips. He laughed, too, playfully, between their lips. His hand continued to probe, caress, and stroke. She felt breathless and aroused, and she daringly opened her thighs so his hand could search for more of her. His sound of approval elicited a silent joy in her that expanded her heart. She wanted him to be happy with her. He released her mouth and her forehead landed on his shoulder as his fingers continued their illicit affair with her pussy, the already throbbing flesh that hid under her skirts. She closed her eyes as she tried to control her breathing against his strokes.
“Why do I feel so wet down there?” she whispered as she hid her face in his warm neck.
“Because you want this,” he replied, his voice again rough from his arousal. “Women become wet when aroused.”
“Oh yes, I want this!” she whispered back, and she knew he smiled approvingly because she felt his cheek when it stretched. She next had to control her moans, like on the river bank. His hand worked expertly, parting her folds, finding that small bud of flesh that, with his touch, only gave her so much pleasure. His fingers used her own juices to rub over it smoothly, and the sensation was almost too much for her, she couldn’t quite control her gasps. The harder it gets, the more breathless she became. She felt the straining of her nipples against the fabric of her gown, the feeling of her breasts getting heavier, aching for his touch. And she imagined how easy and wonderful it would be like if they were both naked, because she wanted the feeling of his skin against her, too, confused about why she felt this way for the first time in her life when this wasn’t even the first time she was around a man.
Then two of his fingers slid inside her, and she couldn’t prevent a big, long moan that she tried to hide by putting her lips against his shirt.
“Oh, Fabian!” she whispered. She felt a thin sheen of sweat on her brows. She turned towards the skin of his neck and kissed him there, her lips caressing him softly that he gasped.
“You like that, ma bichette...” he asked, the softness of his voice intimate against her ear.
“You’re going to make me... make me explode again,” she whispered back helplessly. “Oohhh...”
“Don’t you want to?” he whispered back in a slightly rough undertone.
She nodded, her forehead scraping his skin. “Yes, oh, yes...!”
“I enjoy watching your face when you cum, Adalene. You’re the most beautiful sight when aroused.”
She looked up at him, knowing this to be an indirect request, and he smiled down at her. Adalene had never seen him more handsome, so close to her. In the next moments, she could only work hard on not making any more scandalous sounds. But that pressure inside her lower belly was building up again, and bigger, heavier, stressful... and when she finally came, his mouth covered the scream she couldn’t again stop from escaping. She writhed against his hold until she almost melted on the edge of the table.
He took his hand away and arranged her skirt as she valiantly tried to compose herself and failed. She closed her knees that still shook a little, and gasped again as her thighs pressed against her sex, which was still sensitive as it hid in joyful mortification.
It took a long moment before she could raise her fiery face from his shoulder. She had lost her pretty hat to the floor. “The servants,” she mumbled.
“Will find something to talk about in the kitchens, and they will be happy about it. You shouldn’t worry,” he chided. “We are on our first night together. They knew what to expect and will stay away until called.”
“Like you’re my husband?” she gasped at what she said in the next instant. “I’m sorry!”
“But I am your husband tonight and until you leave,” he said, smiling as he took his goblet of wine to his mouth. “And my role is to make my new wife happy. Isn’t that right?” he asked before he sipped his wine.
“What about the wife making the husband happy? Fabian... I’d like to try again.”
“You will have your chance in the bedchamber, ma bichette.” He winked at her then, and then called for the maidservants, who went in and brought them dessert, their faces not showing a sign at all of anything amiss. She gulped as she leaned back on her seat, breathless and heart fluttering.
She already had her dessert, she thought mischievously. And what a wonderful dessert!
She couldn’t help thinking now about what would happen in the bedchamber.
She couldn’t help feeling all sorts of feelings as her hand reached her cheek to feel the hotness that wouldn’t be contained, knowing that he could make her lose control just being here in the dining hall, or on a riverbank.
She could only imagine how she would behave - or not at all - inside his bedchamber, where no one could hear them. Where she could be anything he would make her be...