Thursday, September 11, 2008

Scene Crit 4

Yes, yes. Late again, sorry. The day totally got away from me.

We have a historical today! Yay, I love historicals, and this one is a medieval--oh, dear to my heart.

Names have of course been changed. There was one name more than I had fake names for, so you'll see what I did. I have also changed the name of the location to "Castle." It has the unfortunate effect of making this piece sound a little like a Monty Python sketch, but not too much I don't think. Just ignore it.

The author of this work has assured me there is a sound reason for the heroine's rather curious behavior near the end.

She had taken only two steps when she heard Jack’s voice directly behind her.
“You will not change my mind.”

Jill cringed at being caught eavesdropping. The stubborn set of his jaw served only to accentuate the fullness of his lips. She forced herself not to recall the feel of them on her skin. “You will not keep me prisoner in my own home.”

“You are not my prisoner.”

“No? Open the gates, I wish to go for a ride.”

“You will not leave these walls unescorted.”

“I do not need you to act as nursemaid to me.” She turned to leave and forgot her wounded ankle. Unable to stifle the cry of pain she started falling forward and reached out. She found herself pulled back and pressed against Jack. One hand gripped her shoulder, the other wrapped around her waist, his palm pressed against her belly holding her to his hips.

“No?” the whispered word caressed the skin of her neck and a shiver coursed down her spine. She heard him inhale her scent and felt heat pool between her thighs. She would not let him do this to her.

Spinning on her good ankle to face him, she tried to step away from his sensual heat. Strong hands held her in place. His mouth hovered near hers, the scent of honey ale on his breath. Her heart pounded in her ears.

“You need me more than you know.” His arms wrapped around her like bands of steel holding her to him.

She did not need him. Not to protect her, and not to please her. “You are sorely mistaken, my lord.” She struggled against his arms but he held her in place. “Castle has no need of your protection. Any who attack here will be threatening you, not Bob. The only sure way to see Castle secure is to leave.” He must leave. Before Another Character arrived, he must leave.

He licked his lips and her breasts swelled. “You forget my orders, my lady.” His confining arms moved on her, from holding her bound before him to holding her pressed against him. With a will of its own her body relaxed, leaning forward against the broad expanse of his chest, the narrow angle of his hips and the muscles of his thighs. “I am to protect Castle, aye. But I am also to wed you. And it’s a duty I look forward to much more than pacing the battlements and watching for Cymric arrows.” His hands wandered over her back as he held her easily against him. Her bones seemed to melt as he stroked her. Sensitive against the fabric of her gown, her nipples hardened. A gasp of pleasure escaped her mouth when he crushed her tender breasts against his hard chest.

“Aye, ‘twill be a much more pleasant duty to wed and bed you, Jill.”

His mouth came down on her open lips and the slick heat of his tongue stroked hers. The sensual caress of his mouth on hers sent her arms around him. She clung to him as he backed her up against the wall of the stable. His palm closed over one breast and he gently kneaded the small mound of flesh. He caught her soft moan with his lips and sent it back to her. The taste of his breath in her mouth sent a rivulet of dew trailing down her thigh. She could think of nothing but the feel of his mouth on her. She wanted him to tear off her gown and kiss her breasts. She wanted him to lift her skirts and press those full lips to the soft flesh of her thighs.

As if he could read her thoughts, she felt her skirts rise. His hand moved over the flesh he exposed.

Holding her to the wall with one hand pressed against her breast, he lowered himself and shouldered her legs apart. His tongue lapped at the moisture on her thigh and she shuddered in pleasure. The muscles of her sex clenched tightly at the new sensation.

He slid his tongue across her skin and into the hollow where her leg met her hip. Waves of intensity pulled at her, drawing her into the pleasure, tugging at her senses.

His mouth moved against her skin. She could feel his breath on the nest of hair that covered her mons. Her clit swelled, sensitive and full, aching to be touched. She moved her hand to it, seeking to press it, stroke it, ease the horrible tension. His fingers closed over her wrist and pulled her hand away. A frustrated grunt escaped her and she tried again to touch her clit.

His tongue caressed her swollen labia and she was forced to reach for his shoulder instead.

He teased and licked, but he went nowhere near the part of her that needed attention the most. She needed release. She needed to press and stroke that tiny bit of flesh. Perhaps he didn’t even know it was there?

She ran her fingers into his hair and tried to guide him to it. He resisted, instead turning to her thighs again. He completely avoided her clit. She was wet, cream slid down her legs and he focused himself on it, licking her clean.

His tongue pressed against her, slid over her, everywhere but the place she needed it most.

Desperate, she tried again to touch herself, to give herself the release he couldn’t. He brushed her hand away. She let go of his shoulder and leaned back against the wall, balanced on one shaking leg. Her hands moved to her center, desperately searching for release.

His fingers caught hers, pulling them from her and forcing them to her sides. He smiled up at her. She growled in frustration and couldn’t stop her hips from thrusting forward at him.

A sly smile slid over his features. “See how much you need me?”

Frustration turned to confusion as she wondered if he truly thought he was giving her what she needed. She could not imagine being married to this man, forced to endure the fumbling teases of his mouth everywhere but on her. Her clit ached. She needed to touch it, to feel orgasm grip her and send her spiraling away from the incomplete caresses he offered.

She fought him, trying to regain control of her hands so that she might show him what he should be doing, what she really needed. “Release me and I’ll show you what I need since you obviously have no knowledge what truly pleases a woman.”

His dark eyes clouded, and she could see something in them change. It was a look she’d almost seen before. She was sure she’d caught glimpses of it from the corner of her eye.

“No?” He whispered the word and she could feel the challenge in it.

He gave her no time to respond. Holding her hands to her side he moved forward and sucked her clit into his mouth. Stars burst around her at the sensation of his hot lips pulling on the tiny bud of flesh. Her womb clenched, her legs quivered and she struggled against him to release her hands. His teeth tortured her as he slipped his tongue into her and fucked her with it.

She screamed her pleasure and he released her hands. She pushed desperately at his head. She had to remove him so that she could finish. She pulled at his hair, tugging so hard she knew it would hurt and yet he didn’t let go. She gripped his jaw, but the feeling of it working on her sensitized flesh only heightened her need to have him stop. Balancing on the edge of a knife she prayed for release, but it wouldn’t come. He toyed with her clit, sucking it, nibbling at it, licking it, but with his hands locked around her legs she couldn’t push him off of her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the crest of pleasure begin to fade. Why wouldn’t he let go? She needed him to step back, let her touch herself so that she could finish.

Seeming to sense the change in her, he leaned back and let her skirts fall. Whimpering with unsatisfied need she pulled desperately at her skirts. She ignored his confused expression and slid her hands against her wet flesh. Furiously she worked against that tiny button. Her leg, no longer able to support her, buckled and she slid down the wall to the soft straw that covered the ground.

She could feel his eyes on her as her orgasm neared. And when it finally reached her she looked up at him. With her gaze focused on his mouth, still wet with her juices, she came. Her head spun, her limbs became leaden. She remained in place until her breath evened and her heart slowed. He stared at her, watching her slowly recover.

Instead of the satisfied grin she she’d seen on Another Character’s face, Jack looked at her at her as if she were a lamb and he a starving wolf. Weighted by the craving that filled his eyes she remained in place as he stood and walked away from her.

She watched him go, unable to understand why he would look at her so, and why she felt as if something was missing.

When she was finally able to stand, she lifted herself from the covered dirt floor and walked across the bailey on shaking legs.


kirsten saell said...

This made me pretty hot, although I thought the narrative could be tightened. I also thought the repeated use of the word "clit" was a bit jarring--not sure why, but clitoris would be better, IMO. I'm also not in love with the term "finish".

And the dialogue in places feels stilted--I think because there are no contractions.

I can guess why she does what she does--she seems like a bit of a control freak, and doesn't want to give him power over her pleasure--especially when he already seems to have power over everything else in her life.

There were some bits of this that I thought were quite deft, but others where editing seems to have led to things being left out:

She could not imagine being married to this man, forced to endure the fumbling teases of his mouth everywhere but on her. On her what?

Still, I'm feeling this is not quite ready, but I'm kind of at a loss as to what's missing.

BernardL said...

Truly, the best one yet. I found this piece combining all the ingredients in the posts December has written of before. Only one phrase gave me pause 'sent her arms'.