Scene Crit 6--the last one

Another historical today, or a fantasy in a historical-esque setting. This is, as the title says, the last scene crit; Wednesday we'll be finishing up the series itself.


Jill wanted to put Jack at ease, to make him understand she wasn’t a threat, and it occurred to her that everyone here needed him. They needed him to guide and decide, to fix and save. Everyone wanted something from him. Except me. It made her want to give him something just because.

Certain they were alone, Jill put an unmistakable look in her eyes. “I have many talents to offer.” She began gently stroking his groin. He was handsome, and if, like most men, mating put him in a better mood, a trusting mood, it would be doubly beneficial.

He began to swell in her hand. His expression of mistrust was overpowered by a strong rush of desire. As he gave in, she watched his features relax. He seemed younger, like someone else altogether. How long had it been since he put aside the burdensome weight of his rule? In that moment, she too, put something aside: her belief that he was callous. He was only harsh because they needed him to be. For these moments, she would make him remember himself, remember that he was more than a ruler. She wanted him to remember that he was a man.

“And do you offer these talents freely?”

He cannot trust me to be genuine! Has nothing been given him for kindness’ sake? Again, she felt pity for him. “If it would please you, I do.”

The size of him was impressive. Her abdomen clenched tight in anticipation, but she knew this was not to be a moment for her pleasure. She had to give now, not take.

Abruptly, his features hardened again. She knew the ruler had returned. He grabbed her hand and jerked it aside, held it there. “I know what you are doing! You seek status and influence. You failed to gain it from The Other Man.” He snorted a laugh. “I will offer you no status either, Jill.”

She jerked her hand free. “I have not asked you to give me anything!” He was so uncomfortable without that mantle pressing down upon him! “I am only trying to show you kindness,” she said as she lowered herself to her knees, “for all that you have given me.” Deftly, quickly, she opened his breeches, and released the ready length of him.

Suddenly a cold dagger lay against her throat. “Stop,” he said.

“Hold your weapon if you like, but let me give you this, Jack.” Her hands wrapped around the silky warmth of his erection. “You’ve been generous with your hospitality. Let me show you my gratitude.” She took the velvet tip of him into her mouth. He didn’t command her to stop. Cupping his balls, Jill caressed him as she took him all the way in and then all the way out, sucking the tip before repeating the motion..

Jack sighed, dropped the dagger, and put his hands in her hair.

Jill took up the tea mug and poured honey—honey that never mixed into the brew—onto the tip of his cock, then lapped it up while stroking the length of him, her hand squeezing with enough pressure to appreciate just how hard he was.

Then Jack forced her off of him. For an instant she feared the mantle had returned again, but he said, “Take down your breeches and turn around.” His voice was thick and husky.

“As you wish,” she said. Jill slipped the fabric down and put herself onto all fours, eager and ready. On his knees, Jack folded the length of her shirt up and put fingertips tentatively to her buttocks drawing little circles on her skin. A thrill tingled over her and Jill shivered, delighted. “Please,” she whispered. “Take what you want.”

He angled himself at her wet opening, rubbing the tip of his cock down and up, spreading the wetness. Over her shoulder she watched him: mouth slightly open, that unshaven jaw so male. The posture of a man about to mate, touching her and holding himself, about to enter, it made a rush of wet heat between her legs. Upon feeling him pressing at her opening again, she backed onto him as he pushed into her. It made the entry a rough motion, but she was wet enough to allow roughness. Jill liked mating that left her a little sore; it left her with a reminder of the activity. She met his thrusts eagerly, trying to let him know she meant her words literally.

His strong hands gripped her hips and held her in place.

Jill didn’t resist. She let him be in control of her, in control of this moment. Gods knew he needed it, and gods knew he wouldn’t enjoy it otherwise. If only they had time, perhaps he could learn to take the mantle off completely, but building trust was not a quick feat for him. And, for now, having him sheathing the length of him inside her in slow, deep strokes felt so good that a moan slipped from her mouth.

* * *

Jack knew his hospitality had been quite lacking.

His healer had meant to aid Jill, but her gods had healed her. She owed him nothing. Surely she knew this and was only seeking leverage to manipulate him.
Somehow, like this, knowing they would share the pleasure, he could allow himself to partake of it and maintain his belief that he could send her away.

When she began to moan, though, that low melodious tone expanded his excitement. He forced himself to slow down, not willing to be done yet. He leaned forward, laying his chest upon her back. Shifting his hips from this position his thrusts became shallow strokes, but he could cup her breasts. They filled his hands more than he had anticipated. Wanting desperately to touch her bare flesh, he reached under the shirt and put fingertips to the puckered flesh around her nipples. So soft, round and firm! He pinched the tips. Immediately she tucked her hips away then bucked hard against him, thrusting him deep. “Mmmmm. I love that,” she whispered. “Harder.. Mmmm.” She bucked again. Again.

He kept the pressure on her nipples, and twisted a little, and feeling the bounce of her breasts in his palms like the ebb of the ocean as she rutted against him. The way she used her body was unique, as if he’d never done this with a partner who enjoyed it enough to know what to do.

In his experience, women let him take what he needed, and loved it when he made the effort to see to their needs as well. But Jill, Jill knew what felt good to her, and moved eagerly, seeking pleasure as heatedly as he usually sought it.

Her head fell forward and she pushed back harder, used her arms more to ride against him with stronger strokes. By the gods, as she moved every sensation became enhanced, and her little moans made him want to explode. He raised up and gripped her hips again. Rolling his hips with each strong thrust, mimicking her former motion, he felt her abruptly go rigid and she cried out. Jill’s lovely voice filled the glen with the cries of her pleasure. Jack felt her insides go hot, slick, and squeeze onto him so tighter. He could fight it no more. His fingers dug into her hips yanking her on and off of him savagely until his pleasure came.