Pleasure and Purpose (6 page)

"When I was ten and six, I wed the man my parents had chosen for me. After a year, we had a son, and I loved my husband for giving me such a precious gift, if for no other reason."

She did pause then, to gather the familiar threads of her story.

"When my son was two, he died of fever."

Edward's arm tightened around her. "My sympathy."

"My parents contracted the same fever and died. According to the laws of our township, all they owned passed to my husband, as I had no brothers to stand as heir. In a time when we should have clung to one another to palliate our mutual grief, he turned to worm and herb instead."

"And you?" Edward's tone was gentle.

"I ... I was lost for a time, in my sorrow." Nessa closed her eyes, the darkness behind her lids blacker than the night-filled room. She thought of nights spent in stupor caused by worm and grief, of clutching the hands of strangers. She thought of places she'd gone and things she'd done to escape an inescapable agony. "And I found that being self-destructive, causing myself some small pain, I could distract myself from the greater."

He didn't pull away but she felt him withdraw, just the same. His fingers tightened in hers, almost painfully.

"And the Order? How did you find that?"

"My husband had squandered our inheritance and I'd taken a position as a kitchen drab. The mistress of the household had taken a Handmaiden. Her name was Tranquilla Caden, the first I'd ever met, and from her I learned about the Order and its purpose. I knew the story of the Holy Family, of course, how the lord Sinder walked in the Void and his footsteps made the mountains."

"And his breath the winds."

"Aye. And how he came upon Kedalya in the wood and fell in love with her, and how their love created a son."

"And there the stories differ."

She nodded. "Aye, they do. Some say she betrayed him. Others say it was our own strife that drove the Holy Family back to the Land Above to await the time when men and women no longer submit to hatred."

"But all agree that each soul on this plane that attains perfect solace sends another Arrow to fill the lord Sinder s Quiver, and when it's full, the Holy Family shall return." She smiled into the darkness, her eyes still closed. "I do so believe. And I thought that providing others with comfort and solace would be the best way to find it for myself. So I sundered my marriage to my husband and joined the Order."

He turned her to face him, and she opened her eyes. Turned this way, the light from the window allowed her to glimpse his face. Edward pulled her snug against him, his expression somber.

"And now?" he asked. "How are you now?"

"I'm no longer self-destructive," she whispered. "And my sorrow has faded. But I will never stop grieving."

His hand passed over her hair, then cupped her cheek. "So what gives you relief, Stillness, from your grief? Is it still the smaller pain to distract you from the greater?"

"Yes."

He let out a low, shuddering sigh, and clasped her tightly to his chest. Nessa put her arm around him, the other tucked along her side. Her head fit just beneath his chin. His hands stroked her back, but the earlier calm his body had effused was gone. Now he jumped and hummed with tension, and she didn't know why.

"Why are you distressed?" She looked up at him and touched his face as he'd touched hers.

"Your story," he whispered.

"I plead your mercy," she said. "If I'd known it would distress you—"

"Shhh," he told her. "I'm glad I know."

And then as tenderly as any lover, Edward kissed her forehead. Her eyes. Each cheek, then her chin, before finally pressing his lips to hers. This gentleness undid her for a moment; her training failed her and she allowed herself the small, exquisite luxury of allowing him to comfort her.

His mouth touched her cheeks again, and when he kissed her once more the taste of her tears parted her lips in an apology he shushed before she had the chance to speak it. He kissed her slowly, urging her to open farther for him. At the taste of him, she moaned. His tongue dipped inside her mouth and she met it with hers. Edward grew hard against her, his cock hotter even than his caress. Murmuring his name, Nessa slid her hands into the silk of his hair at the base of his neck and shivered in delight as his teeth pressed her skin.

"And this," Edward murmured, nipping. "This small pain is the sort you seek?"

"Yes," she breathed, the word becoming a hiss of pleasure when his bite grew fiercer. He rolled them, kicking down the covers to give her space to move on top of him. Edward pulled her astraddle his waist, and his prick rose hard between them. He rocked her forward so her clit pressed against him.

"What else have other patrons done for you? Have they bound your wrists?"

"Yes." She shivered with delight at the memories.

"Tell me of the time that gave you the most pleasure."

She moaned at the question and the sensation, words for the moment failing her, and his hand gripped her hip hard and denied her the pleasure of motion.

"I asked you a question, Handmaiden."

"I've had many patrons, sir, some more demanding than others—" Her hips rocked forward a bit and his grip tightened again, making her gasp at the sting.

"Answer my question."

"She bound my wrists to the post of her bed and tore my gown from neck to hem." Nessa's body responded to the memory; her nipples peaked and her cunt grew slick. "And then she used a riding crop to mark my back."

Edward's voice rasped and his thumb slid between them to stroke her. "Your patron was a woman? A woman beat you?" His voice was now like shreds of silk, or the soft leather fringes of a flogger, trailing over her skin. "And she gave you the memory you most treasure?"

"Men are stronger," Nessa whispered, her body straining but staying still despite the nearly mindless urge to writhe. "But women, sir, can be cruder." Edward groaned. "And this brought you peace, this woman's cruelty?"

"I found that beneath her touch I had the luxury of not thinking of anything else." Edward thrust his hips beneath her. "Put your hand on my cock while you tell me this." Eagerly, Nessa curled her fingers around the base of his prick, then slid upward to palm the perfect head. He let out a hiss as her fingertips caressed the small divot under his cock head, and the ridge around it. His thumb ceased circling her clit and instead pressed it in time to the beating of her heart.

"It gave her comfort to be cruel. In the privacy of her bedroom she could lay vent to the anger she wasn't allowed to display in public as a well-bred gentlewoman." Edward's hand on her hip relaxed and he slid both hands to her buttocks, urging her with a touch to rock forward. She cried out again in relief at this permission and ground her clit against the base of his cock.

"You gave her solace by letting her hurt you instead of those she wished to." Edward grunted when her hand closed over his cock head and squeezed before moving back down the shaft.

"Yes."

"And you gained solace from your grief. What else did she do?"

"She beat me, one line below the next, so my entire back was aflame, but then she gave me a moment to rest. She pinched my nipples, one at a time, until I couldn't stay still, and she touched me—

"Where?"

"Between my legs," Nessa cried as Edward's fingers closed around her nipple.

"With her hand?"

Another pinch, this time to the other nipple, and her clit spasmed. "Aye, and—"

"With her tongue?" His voice had grown rough as brambles. "By the Arrow, Stillness, she licked you? Tasted you?"

"Yes, yes, yes," she moaned, her head falling back as he twisted her nipples, and her clit danced against her knuckles while she stroked him.

Edward let out a strangled groan and rolled them both until he was atop her, pinning her hands above her head with one hand. "I want to taste you." He was between her legs before she had a chance to do anything but breathe. His tongue flicked her taut flesh only thrice before his lips fastened on the sensitive bud and suckled gently. The direct sensation after so many minutes of indirect stimulation forced an ecstatic shout from her throat. Her hips thrust as her clit leaped beneath his mouth. Edward slid first one finger, then another inside her, fucking her as he licked. Nessa moaned, spreading her legs wide and lifting upward to press herself to his kiss. Every muscle strained for release. His fingers twisted inside her, pushing just behind her pubic bone against a spot so sensitive her entire body jerked.

Heat flooded her. She braced herself for the waves of climax, but though her clit hummed beneath his still-working tongue, she didn't feel the familiar explosion of orgasm. This was something entirely new, slow waves of pleasure that built and built rather than diminished.

She'd been with patrons who lacked the skill to bring her to orgasm. Edward, however, was so skilled, so deftly talented with his lips, teeth, tongue, and fingers that he kept her on the edge without allowing her to spill over. All she could do was respond.

"I will be the one who keeps your mind from anything else," he said. She was unable to do more than moan in answer.

Edward fucked her with his fingers slowly, twisting, then withdrew just as slowly and pushed apart her legs. In the next moment she felt his hot breath on her again, lower, against her sensitive perineum. His tongue traced the small area, sliding up to caress her labia and down again.

And then it happened. Always before, her body had reacted to sexual stimulation as it was now, by tensing and releasing in orgasm. Now, under Edward's attentions, she'd reached a point where she could no longer tense. No longer strain toward release. Instead, it was as though she had rocketed skyward and burst through the clouds to a clear night sky beyond. She floated, cradled. There was no more need to strain toward completion, no reason for her body to leap and jerk and vibrate. Everything had become . . .

"Stillness," Edward murmured, and kissed her sex as easily and with as much tenderness as he'd kissed her mouth.

The world disappeared for a moment, an hour, for eternity, she no longer could tell. She no longer cared. She was consumed.

Her body had responded faster and more delightfully than that of any other woman he'd ever had. She was perfection. This pleased him immensely, her ability to find that place. Most women could climax if given the time and the right caresses. Few could reach such a perfect climax of mind and body simultaneously.

After a moment he moved up her body to push his cock inside.

Earlier he'd wanted to fuck her hard, in a frenzy, but her orgasm had satisfied his need for swift release. His cock would better benefit from slow satiation this time. He thrust, moving easily in her slick channel. He licked the sweet softness of her neck and throat. Nipped. Her gasp sent delight from the base of his balls to the tip of his cock, lodged deep within her. He moved a little faster.

She raked his back with her nails, and he arched. His next thrust buried his prick into her all the way to the entrance of her womb, and she cried out. "You won't hurt me . . . take your pleasure harder, if it pleases you."

Edward was lost. So many times he had taken a woman to his bed, only to deny himself the release he sought in order to be certain he didn't harm them. He spent hours worshipping their bodies to climax after climax, only to stunt his own by holding back. He'd finally given up, taking no one to bed because nobody could give him what he wanted.

Until now. Stillness took what he gave and reacted to it. A woman could feign cries of pleasure and even train her body to replicate the internal spasms of orgasm, but no woman could fake the flush of real arousal that rose in her chest and throat. He didn't need light to see it, either. On Stillness he could feel it, the heat rising from her breasts and the throat he so loved to suckle. He fucked into her harder, reaching up a hand to grip the headboard, and she lifted her hips to match his motion.

An image of the girl Cillian had beaten rose in his mind; Edward twitched and groaned. The girl turned her face to look over one welted shoulder. It was Stillness, the flogger had become a riding crop, and the hand wielding it was his own. He cried out, hoarse, as his orgasm burst through him at the moment he envisioned bringing down the crop upon her back.

His body stiffened, his cock leaping and jerking. He felt each spurt of ejaculate as a separate, exquisite burst of ecstasy that made him shout out her name. Her hands went around his back and held him close to her. He nestled his face against her for another moment before rolling off.

The sweat cooled after a bit, leaving him chilled, but before he could reach for the blanket she had already done so. She pulled it up over both of them and curled her body to his, offering him her warmth.

And for the first time in many weeks, his mind gave in to his body's demands, and he slept without trouble until the morning light woke him.

"Must you go to town today?" Nessa poured Edward a cup of tea and Waited at his feet for him to sip.

He shook his head. "The prince is spending the day with his father today."

"Is he very ill-behaved?" she asked, buttering a slice of simple-bread for him.

"Cillian? Aye, he is, indeed. But then he's ever been so, as long as I've known him." She studied her patron as he drank the tea she'd prepared, learning as much as she could about him by the way he spoke and moved. Observation was a subtle art but necessary, and could only benefit from practice. This morning, she noticed, Edward was taking his time over tea. Not rushed. She wouldn't rush, either.

"Perhaps he'll grow out of it," she offered. "Even the rowdiest lads do smooth their manners with time."

Edward gave her an odd look. "He might, but I doubt it. He's been too long indulged to behave any differently, I fear."

She nodded a little. "Then his parents have done him no good service."

"No." Edward's mouth tightened for a moment. "No, I'd say they haven't. His mother died when he was a boy, and his father, I think, believed ponies and sweets would soothe tears better than a tender gesture or attention."