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Isadora takes off her shoes and rubs her beautiful feet and moans with relief at no longer wearing them. Then she eyes me. I think she’s trying to tell me something with just a look. It’s my fault that her feet ache, too, because it was my idea to bring her out here to this garden, down all those hard steps.
“I should have thought about what walking out here in those shoes would mean for your feet. But I’ll make it up to you.” I smile at her, and I feel warmth spreading through me now. Just being around Isadora makes me happier.
There’s a smile on her face I know nothing about, the meaning behind it. “That’s okay,” she says. She’s quiet. I don’t know what she’s thinking, so I’ll ask.
“What?”
“You have cute ears.” Does cute mean funny?
“Thank you,” I just say, assuming it’s a compliment. “You have cute feet.” There, I deliver it back to her, whether it’s a compliment or an insult.
“You charming bastard,” she suddenly says, the lilt of a laugh making her voice almost musical.
“Come here and let me hold you.” I don’t try to skip around my point.
I see it all over her perfect little face, those were the words she wanted to hear.
She sort of floats over, in her pretty white dress, and eventually her soft bottom lands exactly where I want it to. My cock wakes up and fills with excited male everything.
I wrap my arms around her and kiss her cheek.
“This garden is the heart of the castle,” I tell her. I know she lives here, I know she’s been there, but I’m not explaining it to her, I’m sharing it with her. “Where everything grows, and it looks different at night.” Then I lift my arm and point at those glorious gloriosas. “These flowers remind me of you, they’re like fire.”
She turns and looks at me. Her face is this cute expression of coyness. We start kissing, and I finally give her the kiss I’ve made her wait for. I run my hand along the side of her face and trace my fingers over her neck. She is precious everywhere.
“Lie down,” I tell her, my voice she loves so much is smoldering, falling over her body of pale curves like…black paint, I suppose.
She looks at the bench, which is made out of marvelous stone. Someone spent months getting their hands bloodied to carve it into perfection. I want to see how her body looks over it, under the moonlight.
She eventually complies. I stand up and stare at her, and I’m getting harder—so hard I really need to undo my pants. But this isn’t about me needing pleasure, it’s about her.
I kneel down at the end of the bench where her bare feet are and grip them in my strong fingers, and her body feeds me the most delicious response. I rub her tired feet, and she shuts her eyes. Her back is arched. I want to cradle her, I want to feel every soft spot on and in her body, but for now I’ll focus on her feet and let her grow anxious for friction where she needs it most.
“Vincent.” She moves in an effort to express her need for me.
“Yes?” I say, kissing the bottoms of her feet. She has nice feet; they’re a bit on the small side. Maybe that’s why they seem so overworked. And they are very clean, her toenails are perfectly clipped and shiny; maybe she uses some type of glossy nude polish. I don’t know, but I love them.
I plan to treat each toe like a diamond.
I place my mouth over her toes and suck like there’s a hole there, and I can suck out her worries and replace it with a mind blowing orgasm.
This is simply practice. Her long legs twist about to show her anxiousness. There’s a fire growing in her prettier and wilder than those gloriosas.
I place my strong fingers around her ankles and pull her body down the bench. The bench is smooth, so I know it won’t hurt her. I would never do anything to leave one mark on her delicate body.
“Oh, Vincent…”
Her fire will get hotter before it dissolves in my mouth. More gloriosas will bloom after this, for sure.
I give her kisses on her inner thigh, and she places her hand in my hair. I have her stolen away from tonight, after everyone has left the betrothal ceremony and Nathan is caught up in some matters with his nation. I’ve dealt with all my business for the night, and the only work I have to do now is what I need to do on Isadora’s body.
I place my mouth near herpussy. She is beautiful, little, pink. She smells delicious, the best smelling thing in the entire garden. The night comes alive over her, and her nipples are erect from being so aroused. I trace my fingers over them, applying just the right amount of aggression.
