Chapter 13
Though I could not say with certainty that I loved her, I knew this much: I liked her deeply.
Her hand began to stroke her long, firm length. Her breathing turned unsteady.
"Are you certain?" she asked in a voice rough with desire, her hand moving faster.
I nodded shyly.
She stilled. Then she drew her hand away.
My fingers rose, uncertain at first. I placed them gently where hers had been but a moment ago. Her length pulsed with warmth and weight, hard, yet veiled in softness. A sound escaped her throat. My cheeks burned so furiously they must have glowed like lanterns.
I guided the tip toward my lips, my breath catching as I prepared myself. But before I could offer her what I meant to give, she placed both hands at the back of my head and pulled me forward. Her crown pressed past my lips, and in my surprise, my tongue flicked against it.
"Nggh… Naevia…"
Her chest began to rise and fall faster, her throat drawing quiet, broken moans that sounded so lovely. Her hips began to shift in rhythm and I closed my eyes. It was difficult to breathe beneath the sheer breadth of her. Mercifully, she did not press beyond the tip.
"Look at me, Naevia," she whispered. "Open your eyes."
My eyes fluttered open, and I lifted my gaze. Her golden eyes met mine, half-lidded, heavy with pleasure. My jaw ached slightly, and my throat resisted still. Saliva spilled past my lips, down my chin in shameful rivulets. I could not stop it, and yet she did not seem to mind. If anything, her gaze deepened. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her hips began to move faster.
"Oh… fuck," she breathed. She released my head with one hand and brought it to her left breast, cupping it. Her fingers pressed inwards, squeezing harshly. Her thumb and forefinger found the hardened pink peak and began to roll it, pinch it, tease it, until her breath hitched again and again, her lips parting wider. Then, a euphoric sound escaped her lips.
A burst of thick and hot liquid filled my mouth, tasting of something I could not name. I gasped around it, startled, but more kept coming. It spilled over my tongue, out the corners of my lips and down my chin. She moaned above me, trembling, her hips twitching forward in small jerks as the last pulses of pleasure left her.
I remained still. I had never known the body could feel such things. Her length began to soften, retreating from fullness, though still twitching faintly. At last, she slipped from my mouth and collapsed breathlessly beside me as I coughed. She looked as though she had ascended to heaven and returned again. I raised my sleeves to my mouth and shyly wiped at the mess she had left. She had also left my womanhood damp.
"That felt divine," she said, drawing me into her arms. "Shall I return the favor? Would you like me to kiss your little cunny?"
"Y-Your Highness!" I hid my face against the curve of her neck.
She laughed lowly. "Why are you still so terribly shy?"
"Um… if you wish… you may have my body. Even that part. I give you permission."
"What part?" She teased.
"S-stop… You know very well what part I mean."
She nibbled at my ear and suddenly took hold of both my buttocks, squeezing boldly. I yelped in surprise.
"This part?"
I clung to her, unable to speak, my entire body hot with embarrassment.
"You must tell me, Naevia."
"M-m-my r-rear…"
"Ohhh…" she purred, delighted. "Shall it be now?"
"Y-yes."
She laughed again. "It is not as swift as in the stories, sweet thing. We must prepare you with care. But for now… would you like me to pleasure your pretty little breaded clam?"
Breaded clam…
I nearly wilted from shame. "Y-Your Highness…!"
---
Nothing else happened as Princess Yseldra had an important visitor. She had insisted I stay but her visitor had a scheduled appointment with her while I did not, so it was only right for me to leave.
But my body was still in heat. Now I sat before the vanity. My thought fully consumed by her. The way she stroked herself, the way she pinched her own peak until her breath caught.
As though possessed by some strange and sinful spell, my fingers flew to the buttons at the front of my habit. I fumbled most dreadfully. My hands were unsteady, my breath quickening with every button that yielded beneath my touch. Each one seemed to defy me at first, but at last, they gave way, one by one.
When at last I loosened the final fastening of my habit, I reached beneath the fabric and fumbled at the laces of my corset. I worked to unbind just the upper portion, enough to grant my chest a moment's reprieve. The pressure gave way with a subtle shift, and I parted the fabric.
My breasts spilled forth with sudden freedom. With both hands, I cupped them. I bit down upon my lower lip to keep the sound from rising. I could not bear the thought of hearing myself. I lifted my eyes to the mirror before me. There they were. Pale and full. I imagined them not as my own, but Princess Yseldra's, those same exquisite curves I had seen bared and cradled and worshipped beneath her own hand. My thighs pressed together as a fresh heat pooled below, and I whimpered without meaning to.
I began to shape them, pushing the softness inward, upward, outward, curious to feel the sensations that made her moan so sweetly. I mimicked her movements as best I could, squeezing and teasing as she had done, finding a strange satisfaction in the act. My fingers found my peaks, and I pinched them gently.
A breath caught in my throat.
Then I rubbed them. Pulled. Pressed. Flicked.
Oh heavens. The little stings that kissed across my skin sent waves of tingling delight through me. My body trembled. I could not bring myself to stop. I flicked again and again, each time a touch more daring, pinching and pulling between each stroke, until my back arched with the force of it. My chest was heaving, breathless and warm. My sex was utterly drenched. I had never touched myself like this.
Is this why Her Highness did so? Why she looked so enraptured, so undone?
But all at once, I heard it.
Footsteps.
Approaching swiftly.
My breath caught in horror. I scrambled, panic racing through me like wild lightning. I tugged the fabric of my habit back into place, my hands fumbling with buttons in disgraceful haste. The final one slipped into place just as the door swung open.
I leapt to my feet at once, the blood rushing to my ears. My hands flew to my front and began their familiar, frantic fidgeting.
Sister Alethea narrowed her gaze at me as she closed the door behind her, her expression colored with unmistakable suspicion.
In my frantic haste to make myself presentable, I had not the time nor composure to properly fasten my corset. The bodice of my habit clung against my skin, and to my horror, I soon discovered that my peaks I had so shamefully played with mere moments ago now tingled with maddening sensitivity beneath the fabric. Every movement sent the most inappropriate of sensations dancing across my chest, as though my body were whispering wicked suggestions to me.
Sister Alethea dropped onto her chair before the vanity. Then she squinted in a different direction. I followed her gaze.
And I froze.
There, upon the fabric of my chair, was a most shameful dampness. My shame had not merely remained hidden beneath my garments. It had soaked through. Through my drawers. Through my habit. And now, disgracefully, onto the very chair cushion.
"Did you spill something?" she asked, entirely too curious. Before I could utter a word, she had already leaned forward. And then, most dreadfully, she extended her hand.
"No, wait!" I tried, but it was far too late.
She pressed her thumb and forefinger against the fabric and drew them back with visible residue between them.
My eyes widened. My soul attempted escape.
"It is… sticky," she observed, peering at the substance.
I very nearly expired upon the floor.
---
Her Highness laughed with such abandon that her whole frame shook from the force of it. My shoulders drew inward as I buried my face in my palms, overcome with embarrassment. She wrapped her arms about my waist and pulled me closer. My body burned with such heat, I feared it rivalled the noonday sun that poured in through the window. She had come to visit me shortly after luncheon this day, and now we sat together in one of the quiet prayer rooms, though my heart was far from still.
"Your Highness, it was not the least bit amusing…"
"I merely asked how the remainder of your day passed after you left me. I did not expect you to answer with such unguarded honesty."
"Lying is a sin…"
She took my hands and pulled them away and turned me to face her. "Did Sister Alethea ever come to realize that she had touched the very wetness drawn from your own longing?"
I buried my face into the crook of her neck and shook my head. "I told her the stain had already been there when I entered the room…"
"Ohhhh…. and I thought lying was a sin."
"I know… but sometimes, lying feels kinder…"
She laughed. "You never fail to brighten my day."
"You brighten mine as well," I confessed shyly.
"Do I?" she said, her tone playful. "Tell me then… how good did it feel when you touched yourself?"
"It felt… very good…" I answered, wrapping my arms around her neck.
"And what did you imagine when you were groping those pretty little breasts?"
"That they were yours…"
A low, wicked sound escaped her throat. "Mmm… would you like to touch mine now?"
But just then, a knock came at the door.
"Your Highness," came the voice of her guard, muffled but clear, "your appointment with the Duchess draws near. If we are to make it in time, we must depart now."
"Ughhh…" Her Highness groaned, the sound long and annoyed.
I withdrew from Her Highness, though the heat lingered upon my cheeks from all we had spoken of. As dearly as I wished for her to remain a while longer for it had been several days since I last saw her, I understood well that she was a woman of considerable duties. I was already most grateful that she had spared a portion of her time to visit me at all.
She rose and took my hand, pulling me up with her. Then, with her arms draped about my neck, she leaned in close and smiled. "Near one in the morning, I want you to step outside the temple and turn your eyes eastward, toward the sky."
"Toward the sky?"
"Mmhm," she said, her smile deepening. "I have prepared a gift for you. In your favorite color."
My heart stirred with delight, though confusion quickly followed. "In the sky?"
She gave a proud nod.
"In the sky," she repeated in a whisper.
"The color white… in the sky?"
She laughed. "Yes, sweet one. The color white, in the sky."
---
And the color white bloomed in the night sky.
From the distant hills, bolts of light rose silently toward the heavens. Upon reaching their peak, they burst into brilliant letters, each one forming a sacred line, suspended in stillness.
A single vow. One of the eight sacred vows of our beloved Ombrithar. As the first vow faded, another set of silent bolts ascended and unfurled into the next. And then another. And another.
My heart trembled.
Each vow carved itself not upon the sky alone, but within my very soul, as though Ombrithar herself was speaking directly to me. I stood frozen, overcome, watching with wide eyes and parted lips. Never in all my life had I beheld such beauty. These were not mere fireworks. Fireworks are fleeting and loud. These lingered in holy silence. They were made with magic stones.
And Her Highness had done all this for me.
My lips quivered with feeling too great for words, and my knees weakened beneath the weight of such undeserved grace. She had given me something beyond comprehension, beyond worth. A moment that no one else in the world would ever receive. A piece of eternity, written in light, just for me.
As the final vow faded into the stars, I placed both hands over my heart and closed my eyes. I wished to press this moment deep into my memory, to brand it upon my soul so that not even death might steal it from me.
When at last I opened my eyes, I turned to return to the temple, only to stop.
Princess Yseldra stood at a distance, waiting, radiant beneath the moonlight. Her expression glowed with joy. My heart quickened. And then I ran. I ran to her, faster and faster, straight into her arms.
"Have you fallen in love with me yet?" she asked, her voice full of mischief and light.
"I believe you have earned the whole of my heart," I whispered, my lips drawing nearer to hers.