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“He paid special attention to my arse,” she said, all polite discourse lost. There was little point in pretending. “He never used his cock, and rarely his hands. He preferred tools. Things that I never saw. Some soft, some hard. All shaped as if to mimic a man’s member.”
“Why didn’t you see them?” He circled a spot on her poor arse until the heat dispersed.
“I was hooded by my wimple. So my eyes would not see the work of salvation, as he put it. I think, looking back and knowing how bewitched I was, that he was mad. For why would he not touch me with his flesh? He acted precisely. Like a machine.”
“Tis strange for a man to be so. Our passions drive us to be firm and controlling, but also sensual and physical. Did it hurt, what he did?”
“I felt pressure, an element of discomfort, but he insisted I was not a functioning woman if I could not dispel the need for my arse to be entered. Which he determined was wantonly needy, not I. Stupidly, it had not crossed my mind that a man might seek it out for his own pleasure. He rubbed that spot frequently with something that stung sometimes, and it left me fiery and hot for more, then he’d leave me, and tell me that was how I should be left.”
“How cruel of him leaving you needy and vacant.” Gervais allowed her to stretch out, her head resting on the crook of one of her arms, her ankles splayed. She was offering him a fine vista and the wetness of her pussy had spread down her thighs.
“I suppose,” she said meekly.
“And now, you are purged of that terrible man. No more shall we speak of him.” Not in her presence, thought Gervais. He would make his own enquiries as to the nature and identity of Father Mark. Where had he gone next, and what had he done to keep his appetite quenched? The man was not fit to be left with virgins, especially those with a poor moral compass. Correctly brought up, and with a mother present instead of imprisoned, Matilda would never have allowed that man near her. The Abbess seemed capable of dealing with the matter once uncovered. It was therefore unfortunate she had not spied on her charges with more diligence.
“Would you like to know what if feels like to have a firm member in your bottom?” he asked, lacing his voice with charm and sophistication.
“I don’t know,” she stuttered. Her legs squirmed, the liquid of her sex trickling forth.
He coated his forefinger in it, then smeared it up and into her furrow. She gasped.
“Yes? I think so too. Tell me you do by using your fingers to spread apart your cheeks. It is your choice again, my angel. Otherwise, I shall assist you to stand and dress.”
He waited, allowing her time to think of her needs. His cock would dearly love to penetrate her tight hole, fuck it hard and long, but he could not risk her hating it and he’d prefer to fuck her cunt before her arse. Her pretty mouth too. If he played his hand well, by the end of the night, he’d have all three to enjoy. A long night. So long, he might stretch it into tomorrow. Once he’d finished playing with her bottom hole, and as the fire was dying anyway, he would wrap her in his long cloak—to save on dressing and re-dressing—carry her to his chamber, and cement their arrangement.
“Well? Matilda, my girl, tell me.”
Her arms moved. She took in her hands her buttocks and prised them apart, offering him the puckered entrance. “Please, my lord.”
Chapter Ten
Oh, the shame of it. And the joy. This endeavour was more than anything she’d imagined with the ridiculous priest and his prissy m
anners. He’d called her a fallen angel. The poking had been brief, and often accompanied by muttering, as if he had been battling some inner hatred of himself. Now, it was so obvious, he had not been capable of doing the full deed, and that his wishes had been nothing to do with carnal pleasure, and everything to do with ruining a young woman’s prospects. Thank heavens she’d met somebody as worldly as Gervais. Geoffrey would never understand why she’d done those things.
Gervais pressed his finger against that tight doorway and applied sufficient pressure for it to flex and open. What responded more strongly was not the hole he touched, but the other neglected one. It clenched and tingled, as did the nub that he had stimulated that morning. She spread her cheeks wider, inviting him to play harder. And he did. He nudged the tip of his finger inside.
She moaned. The size of his finger felt immense but there was no pain or stinging. She relaxed the ring of muscles and pushed back, until his knuckle passed through. He wriggled and pumped his digit in and out, and when she was groaning so frantically that she thought her sex might explode, he penetrated her with two fingers.
“Yes, yes,” she squawked, her sore bottom forgotten. “More, please. My lord, I beg you.”
He had a spare hand, and its purpose was now apparent. He reached beneath her hips and sought out her swollen nub. While his penetrating fingers agitated, he rubbed her excited clitoris, ensuring it was bursting to come.
“Now,” he said, with a deep voice.
The command was delicious, and she responded instantly. She clamped her tight muscles around his trapped fingers and achieved a remarkable climax, far greater than the morning’s. For she had lied to herself about that too. She knew what an orgasm was, its purpose during coupling, and how it was extracted. The biggest disappointment of the past was she had to eke them out with her own hand.
The ripples spread, the contractions peaked, and too soon, the pleasure waned into nothingness. She slumped. Gervais withdrew his energetic hands and patted her bottom.
“Good girl,” he said soothingly. “That was your turn. Now it is mine.”
He bundled her into his fur-lined cloak, and she snuggled into a ball for him to carry. He managed the stairwell with graceful ease, although she clung on tightly to his shoulders. She apparently weighed nought. From the dark tower he transported her to his bedchamber, an impressive room adjoining the private dining room. He kicked the door shut behind her and laid her on his generous bed. She sank into the covers and ignored the throb of her tenderised behind.
Temptation wasn’t necessary, but she couldn’t resist unpacking herself. She swept aside the cloak and revealed her nudity for him. Gervais laughed and stepped back.
“Your willingness does you credit, my lady. But you might not feel so bold once I have you sucking upon my cock.”
She shot up. “Sucking?”
