Chastity Ch. 02

"Come Kinlee, lest you hurt yourself."

"What if you die, and the key is lost, and I am stuck in this thing forever? Well?"

"Your concern for my life is touching, dear wife."

She was struggling with the door handle when he scooped her up and strode over to one of the chairs beneath the window arch. He deposited her in the chair, not relinquishing her legs. The damn chastity belt was hooked over his arm.

"I am not a toy to play with. I have needs," she muttered, tears welling in her big eyes. Needs that had been denied her over a moon because of the golden shell addition to the front of her chastity belt. She adjusted the stole, trying to cover herself as much as she could with the silky see-through concoction.

"Ah, but I like playing with you."

Kinlee huffed, only slightly mollified. "Then play. Now." Her tone was pure challenge as she crossed her arms beneath her pouting breasts. Her eyes dropped to the male appendage she had stroked with enthusiasm earlier. "I'll let you stick that thing in me again."

"Let me?" he mused, his devilish green eyes laughing.

Kinlee's eyes narrowed dangerously as she tried to kick out at him with her good foot, but he wouldn't relinquish his hold. Her fingers clutched at the arms of the chair as they tousled for dominance. His hands above her ankles drew them apart in a wide V, so that his view wasn't impeded as he gazed down at her. Now they both new she was needy. Pig.

She tugged the stole down between her legs. His eyes lavished over her, even as he slipped her ankles through the belt. Her heart sank as found its way down over her thighs.

"Do you intend keeping me in this contraption forever?" She muttered mulishly.

"Ah, Kinlee. It no more pleases me than you. Soon, there will be no need."

"But ....soon? Why soon, why not now? It hurts," her voice trailed off into a whisper.

"It pains me to leave you like this, when I want nothing more to bed you, to be inside your glorious heat. But the your father's men are lazy and the castles defences weak and in need work. Consider this both our punishment."

"Both our punishment?"

"You for leading my men on a merry dance, me for not taking more precautions to prevent your wilful excursion."

He leaned down, his lips dangerously close. Her lips parted, welcoming. Perhaps...

He wrapped an arm around her waist, his other hand gripping her chastity belt at her upper thighs. He lifted her, until she stood on one foot, her hands clinging to his upper arms. The stole slipped, so that her breasts pressed against him.

Her forehead fell to rest against his chest in defeat as he drew the belt up and fitted it around her hips. When he finger beneath her chin lifted her face, his mouth gently brushed her pouting one.

"Tonight, we will make sure all your hurts are seen to."

He laid her gently on the bed, and she rolled onto her belly, her face turned away from him as he moved around the chamber, readying himself for whatever his men were ready for.

The bed dipped then she felt his mouth press against her shoulder blade, then he was gone.

Kinlee felt the anger well, mixing with the overwhelming need to be thoroughly ravished.

Her lord and husband could go merrily on his way, yet she was beholden to his whims. Tonight, did he think?

With her maid's help, Kinlee saw to her bathing and toilette. The warm, scented water had taken away most of her aches, but made her scratches sting. Then she sat with her back to the warmth of the fireplace as her maid drew the brush soothingly through her mane until it dried.

She felt mildly better in the physical sense, but still didn't know if she wanted to scream or cry. As much as she wanted to hide from a castle of men and women who would gaze pityingly on her in the knowledge she wore a stupid chastity belt, hiding in Draven's chamber offered very little solace. She needed a plan of action.

~*~

"Father..."

"Yes, my child?"

Kinlee peeked up at the priest before turning her gaze back to her hands where they rested in her lap.

"I -- I wish to seek an annulment."

The priest gasped, leaning heavily on his stick. "But -- why?"

The silence stretched as a tear slid down her cheek.

"It is too humiliating. I can not possibly say."

"There is nothing you can say that will change you in my eyes, or that of the Lords."

"Truly?" she mumbled. That might soon change, in Father's eyes at least.

"Truly."

Minutes passed, as seemingly Kinlee gathered courage, her fingers twisting in her lap. She took a deep breath.

"He torments me," Kinlee finally said. "He makes me all..." she fluttered her hand, peeking up from beneath lowered lashes, "but he doesn't..." another flutter. She peeked again. Father's face was turning as red as Kinlee.

"I -- some things take time."

Kinlee pressed her hanky to her mouth.

"I fear he has no intention of..." flutter "now that he has my father's Kingdom. He makes me...makes me..."

"Yes?"

"Father, he won't take it off!"

"What off?" Oooh, did she have to paint a picture? Why was the castle grapevine lagging that day?

"This," she whispered, a tear trickling down her cheek. She slowly raised her skirts, revealing blue slippers, silk stockings, soft creamy flesh and finally, a golden chastity belt.

Father gazed down at her slightly parted thighs, his eyes wide. A low, coughing sort of wheeze escaped him. He managed to drag his eyes away after what seemed an age, pondering the ceiling of the chapel with remarkable intensity.

"I merely want to fulfil my destiny and provide heirs to the throne, yet..."

That was a lie, she admitted, and silently apologised profusely to the Lord. Of course, she wanted children eventually. But right now all she wanted was a lover to show her all the things she had imagined while locked up in a chastity belt for five years. Not a husband who could dally where and when he wanted, and not with her, if this morn's events were anything to go by.

"Yet?" Father prompted.

"He has what he wants, control of my father's kingdom." A muffled sob. "I am merely a means to his revenge. He has no intention of getting me with child and providing Giliane a heir." Kinlee didn't know where Draven stood on children, so it wasn't an outright lie, was it?

"My dear, surely you are confused..."

"No," another sob. "No, I fear there is only one answer that can save my father's kingdom from Lord Draven's heartless revenge."

"What is that, my child?"

"An annulment."

"Bravo, princess," a masculine voice called. One clap, two.

Kinlee's head swung round, her eyes widening in a mixture of trepidation and awe and she surreptitiously pushed down her skirts. Draven stood leaning against a column, his breeches clinging to his muscular legs. He wore a long sword hanging from his hips, and a short white tunic. He looked wicked and sinful, and she wanted nothing more than to feel the weight of him pressing down on her as he filled her with what filled those breeches. Her body tingled in welcome.

He pushed away from the column, stalking toward her with an animal grace that both pleased and frightened her. She swiftly rose and turned in a swirl of skirts, her eyes darting to the far end of the chapel behind him, knowing it was pointless.

"Perhaps if I may, Father Michaels, I can clear up my wife's confusion."

"Oh, yes, yes of course. I shall depart and leave you both alone," Father said hurriedly.

"No, it would please me for you to hear this also, Father."

"Oh, well then, if it pleases you, my lord."

"Kinleanne, did I not take your maidenhead?"

Kinlee blushed, suddenly finding the beading on her dress of great interest. She wished right then that the ground would open up and swallow Draven.

"Well?" he stood before her, a massive wall of masculinity. His fingers brushed down her cheek before dipping under her chin and tipping her head back. Still she refused to look at him, her lashes lowered, her face awash in pinkness.

"I don't recall this being a matter of dispute. I believe only my hairpins you used to escape received more attention in Giliane."

"So we agree. I have rightly claimed my bride's virginity, and therefore an annulment is out of question."

Kinlee squirmed at the dangerously soft tone, not knowing where he was heading with this, but sensing very much she wouldn't like it. The priest had christened her, and listened to her childish tales and admonished her wilfulness as she grew to womanhood. And his wife was a terrible gossip.

"Yet, the issue of heirs remain. Was it only several days ago you admitted to taking a potion to prevent just that?"

"Er..." Kinlee felt her chest squeeze in shock. A quick peek at the priest made her horrifying humiliation perfect. His blush made hers look pale in comparison. Kinlee was clearly not going to heaven now in Father Micheal's book.

"Precisely. Good day, Father."

With that, she found herself tossed over Draven's shoulder in a flurry of silk, the breath whooshing from her lungs. A firm grip on her bottom held her steady as he marched her out the chapel, and along the weaving path to the castle.

"That was unfair," Kinlee complained, pinching his bottom through the delicious breeches that pulled tight with each step. "No doubt disobedient wives interfering with God's will, will feature prominently in his next sermon."

When the path forked, he took the one leading away from the castle forecourt and the possibility of safety in numbers.

"I believe you gave him enough fodder to last a handful of sermons, judging by the look on his face. The image of you in your chastity belt is likely burned in his memory for all time."

"You saw that?" she squeaked.

"I could hardly have failed to, what with your skirts hiked up almost over your head."

She pinched him again for his impertinence.

Draven pushed through a squeaky gate, and stepped into the hushed green surrounds of the Queen's Private Garden. Kinlee swallowed nervously. The Garden was forbidden to anyone but the royal family, removing any chance of interruption. Had her husband brought her here with pleasurable intentions, this knowledge would have considerable benefit.

Tall stone walls hid the tiny lush garden filled with a glorious tumble of wild roses from honey-pink to the most delicate white. Amidst the winding paths stood a granite bench over which trellises arched with their burden of flowering pink vines. The bench overlooked a square pond with a sculpted mermaid rising from it's placid depths holding a bowl of overflowing water.

For the first time she did not feel the peaceful serenity of belonging in her grandmother's garden as she usually did. Instead she felt agitated, excited and flustered all at once.

Draven eased her down his front, and she glared up at him, her hands resting on his forearms. She remained in the warmth of his arms for no other reason than her ankle hurt.

His head lowered, his lips nuzzling her temple, her cheek, before finding her parted lips. He brushed his mouth against hers. Again and again, until she could bear it no longer and her hands captured his face, holding him still as she slanted her mouth over his. When he finally ended the kiss, they were both breathing heavily.

"You are a vexing man, Prince Draven Carmeachi."

"Because I presumed to call your bluff? Did you really think Father Michael would release you from your vows, or that I would let him?"

Again he kissed her, making her toes curl and her insides melt. Until she broke it off.

"What cause would you have to object? It was because of me that you were forced to marry. You had no choice once you discovered you had inadvertently deflowered a princess."

"I had a choice, Kinlee. I could have taken you as my mistress, and there was nothing your father and my parents could have done to force a marriage once your maidenhead had been plucked. And you, my deceiving minx, wouldn't have complained, so long as I bedded you to your heart's desire."

Kinlee mumbled something that could have been a mild protest before he kissed her again. Her fingers slid down over his chest, finding the ties of his tunic.

His hands worked on her hooks, and cool air touched her back. He peeled her bodice down, revealing the gentle thrust of her breasts with their pink crowns. She slipped her arms from the capped sleeves, and the swaying motion seemed to hypnotise him.

She watched as his strong tanned hands cupped her pale breasts, his thumbs sweeping over her beckoning nipples. Kinlee whimpered in encouragement.

"Perhaps we could reach an accord," she murmured as she fumbled with the knots and loosened the cords of his tunic as fast as she could, which wasn't very.

"And what is it you believe we should reach an agreement on?" His eyebrow quirked in query. He sat down on the bench and drew her across his lap.

His mouth trailed down over her chest to the beckoning mounds, nipping and sucking in a way that shot delicious heat down between her thighs. She wiggled and moaned, wanting more. Wanting him.

"Doesn't the bible mention husband's and wives should agree?" she murmured against his ear as she pushed the tunic up over his chest. He lifted his arms, and she tugged it over his head and threw it far.

"Do you refer to the part where wives must obey their husbands?"

Kinlee drew back in horror, slapping his hands from her breasts. At his chuckle, her golden eyes widened with relief. "Oh, for a moment I thought you must not have noticed I mumbled that part of the vows."

"Kinlee, I do not want your dutiful obedience. And I'm fast finding a meek and proper wife does not appeal. Take down your hair for me."

Kinlee gazed directly at him as she reached up and found the loops of her braided hair pinned like a crown on her head. Pearls were interwoven in her silky mane, and a small veil fluttered down behind to the just below her shoulders. She tugged at pins and hair until her hair fell haphazardly over her shoulders in a kinky blonde cloud.

All the while his fingers caressed her from neck to waist, skating over her flesh, stroking and rubbing and teasing her into madness.

She wiggled on his lap, feeling the evidence of his desire. Her hand pressed down between their bodies, sliding down his belly to rub him through his straining breeches. She wanted nothing more to yank down his breeches and push herself down on his hard length until he filled her.

He sucked on her eager nipples, his fingers splayed over her back as he gave them his full attention. Kinlee was shockingly wet at his devilish tortures. Her maids had playfully teased her breasts as she reached her gentle lady's pleasure, but it had been far from this hungry seduction.

To her frustration the leather breeches would not give beneath her demanding fingers. She yanked at the ties, but it was no use. She decided then and there that she hated men's clothing.

"Careful, minx," he gritted. "It wouldn't do to damage the goods." His hand brushed hers out of the way, and one-handed, loosened the laces. She would have been miffed if it wasn't what she wanted. His mouth founds hers again as she slipped her hand into his parted breeches and drew him free. He was impossibly hard and velvety soft all at once. Mmmm...

Hope spiralled in her chest as the golden belt loosened about her hips. Then he was tugging it impatiently down her legs, and she was holding onto his shoulders for balance.

She mewed in distress when she found he was lifting her off of him, then he was directing her legs to straddle him, and she willingly complied. She pressed kisses over his throat as she rubbed herself against him.

He drew up her gown, until she felt cool air on her bottom. When his fingers skated over her soft folds from behind, it felt as though she had been hit by lightening. She bucked, her fingers instinctively tightening where they held him.

"God, princess, you're so wet and tight," he groaned against her ear as a finger pushed up inside of her. Her lips parted and her head fell back as he stroked her clenching channel with satisfying urgency, while his thumb teasing her throbbing bud.

Her hand found him, stroking him, his long, wide girth satisfyingly hard beneath her curious caresses. She sighed, he groaned.

Kinlee's thoughts were fuzzy, but they kept coming back to the same thing.

"If, like you say, you are only a teensy bit mad at me for trapping you in marriage, and concede you do not require a meek wife, then why do you make me wear that horrible contraption?"

"Kinlee, do you like the pretty attentions of your serving lasses when they lick you?" Kinlee's lips parted on a shuddering breath as he kissed the side of her neck.

Kinlee blinked. "Of course," she said confusedly. Then, "who told you that?"

"And do one or some of the palace guards appeal to you?"

"Yes, but in the same way the serving wenches appeal to you," Kinlee murmured, slightly defensively.

"Your honesty is refreshing, princess. But you will find, Kinlee, that I won't share you."

Kinlee pulled back, searching his intent face. And slowly frowned. Is this what this was all about? Ensuring the heir was his? Well, whatever he said about those brews, Kinlee was convinced they would work. And she didn't trust him either. She had seen him with all those serving maids, furiously expending his passions. Yet with her, even that first time when it came down to it, and mighty quickly too, he had been completely different. When he had tied her to the bed, he had been so fiercely controlled when he had finally taken her. And this morning, she failed to tempt him. She glared at him. His disinterest was obvious.

"Five years is a very, very, very long time. To wear this chastity belt is to be constantly reminded of what is denied me. I burned to be ravished. I still do." Kinlee tried to wiggle off of him, but his hands settled firmly about her waist. She pried at his fingers unsuccessfully. Was it possible to be so angry and still feeling like being ravished by him? "If you will not see to my needs, would it be remiss of me to find someone who will?"

"You will find me very attentive to your needs, princess." Her body quivered traitorously at the promise of those words. His hand slid down and lifted her bottom, then she felt him, brushing against her dewy heat. Her muscles clenched in anticipation. He fitted himself against her, lodging the blunt head of him at her gate.

They remained poised there, their chests rising and falling. "Show me then," she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth. Her lashes fluttered close, her lips parting as she sunk slowly down on him.

He buried his head against her throat, his groan sending goose pimples along her skin, as she took him deep inside. Her body stretched to accommodate him, and the breathe raced from her lungs at the incredible fullness of him filling her.

If possible, he felt better than the time before. The first time didn't count. She clung to his shoulders, wallowing in the sensation of his throbbing length seated deep inside her.

Yet the clamouring need between her melting thighs could not be denied for long, and soon she was moving urgently on him. His hands caught her hips, slowing her, guiding her, and soon they found a rhythm.

It was incredible, maddening, the exquisite feelings overwhelming. She moved on top of him, pushing down, lifting up, her body shuddering around the powerful feel of him joined with her. She could so easily become addicted to him.

His mouth scorched a path over her shoulder and neck as his hands caressed her soft flesh. He was large and impossibly strong, his clean scent and warmth wrapping insidiously around her.

Caresses feathered over her breasts, down her arms, her hips. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips parted. When his fingers found the curls between her thighs, she moaned softly.