Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 11

Leander did not wait for her to once again wrap her lips around his manhood: his mouth found the hot, wet spot between her legs as soon as she has settled her knees on either side of his face, just above his shoulders. His tongue flicked to the swollen bud hidden under the folds, making Daphne cry out.

"Like it, my love?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

Daphne had to take a deep breath to quench the growing need to rub her molten core to his waiting mouth. She could only moan her agreement.

The general chuckled, his hands kneading the cheeks of her backside. "Gods, you are wild, Daphne. Very much so."

What could she say to that? Daphne merely sighed in contentment when she felt his mouth upon her again, licking, teasing, sucking.

In front of her, his manhood stood, proud and erect, its slickness reminding her of how it had felt between her lips. Daphne's mouth watered. She wanted to taste him -- again and again and again.

So she did. It was not like her to deny herself anything, really, as those who have encountered her during her most determined moments would know. Why should she deny herself now -- when having Leander in her mouth was just as infinitely enjoyable as having him teasing her sex?

His mouth greedily drank her juices, his tongue possessively laying claim to her very soul. Daphne felt as if she would burn, but if she ever would, she wanted to make sure that she'd take him with her.

Although new at it, she wanted to make this work for him as it was working for her. She twirled her tongue around the tip of his cock before taking the head into her mouth. Her one hand, she used to keep herself propped up, the other she used to grasp the base of his manhood, slowly stroking it up and down while she took more of him into her mouth until the tip of his shaft hit the back of her throat. She then deliberately pulled her head away, causing her lips to slowly stroke all the way back, until only the head was inside her mouth -- after which she pushed onward again.

She felt his groan reverberate from the point of contact between his mouth and her sex, so Daphne guessed he was liking it this way. She herself was squirming under the careful ministrations of his mouth, as every bold stroke of his tongue, every gentle suck of his lips threatened to take her over the edge of sanity. Her knees were trembling, threatening to make her collapse on top of him.

Gods, how would she be able to hold herself up on her hands and knees above him when her body felt as though it was turning into liquid? But she wanted to provide Leander the same kind of pleasure she was receiving from him...

"Daphne." She heard his sudden intake of breath, felt the tightening of the muscles in his thighs as her mouth stroked his rod of flesh for the fourth time. "Will you let me have you? Will you lead me into your sheath? My love?"

He did not have to ask her twice.

Not even bothering to face him, Daphne impaled herself on his shaft, letting out a loud groan as she felt his whole size inside her. It was so easy to forget how much he could fill her, until the maddening moment when he was sheathed in her warmth and all that her brain was telling her was that she wanted more -- she wanted so much more of him!

She threw her head back, causing her hair to spill on his stomach. Daphne heard Leander groan as she felt his hand grasping her hair. She leaned back further, planting her hands on either side of his waist as she let out a throaty groan, clenching her muscles around him.

Leander hissed, perhaps trying to control himself, while Daphne started riding him, biting her lower lip all the while. Grinding her hips in a circular motion from time to time, she tried to ride him as fast and hard as she could manage. Yet, it seemed that it was not enough.

Then, Leander snapped. "Gods, woman, you will kill me!"

With a growl, the general suddenly moved -- so fast that Daphne shrieked, caught by surprise. In a matter of seconds, he had her on her hands and knees again, but this time -- this time, he was kneeling behind her, his hands on her hips, firmly keeping her in place.

Daphne once again gave out a loud cry when Leander slammed his manhood into her -- so fast and so deeply until he was buried to the hilt. A low growl followed, sounding as if it had been wrenched from deep within her. Leander pulled out completely, before once again slamming himself back, again and again and again. And every time he did so, Daphne cried out, so loudly that, in a remote corner of her mind, she wondered if the whole household could hear her, if everyone could even guess a little of how pleased she was, of how delightful it was to have Leander driving in and out of her in such a fashion.

As she neared the peak, Daphne buried her face on the bed, afraid that she would scream her heart out and wake the whole household. It was one thing to let everybody gossip about her outrageous behaviour, quite another to give them proof that she was indeed so wanton, especially since she was still living under her father's roof.

When it came, the climax shook her to the core, so raw and primal that it left her breathless in its wake, her cries thankfully muffled by the bed. Leander, too, reached the peak only seconds after her, planting his seeds in her womb. As he always did. Not that Daphne cared. She was not afraid to carry a child while still unwed; she feared no condemnation.

She shivered in the aftermath, panting heavily and sweating profusely, yet glad at heart. Leander lifted her body up gently so that she knelt on the bed with him just behind her as a pillar of support. Daphne leaned against him completely as she let out a shaky sigh.

"You win, little devil," the general murmured against her skin as his hands caressed the part of her body just below her breasts - slowly, gradually, once again building her passion. "I need you. I love you. I cannot live without you."

She groaned, reaching back to touch his face even as she closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation his strokes were subjecting her to. "I know."

They stayed in that position for a while, before Leander finally tumbled her to the bed, covering her nakedness with the clammy sheets, but not before he has studied her body so thoroughly that it made Daphne blush.

"I hope I was not too rough on you?" he asked softly, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"No." Daphne smiled, still feeling sweet soreness between her legs, an ache to remind her of Leander's lovemaking skills. "It felt -- " she paused, trying, yet failing, to find the words that would adequately express what she felt. Finally, she settled for " - magnificent."

Leander grinned, making her heart skip a beat before he settled beside her, lifting her head off the pillow so that she could rest it on his bicep instead. She felt his lips on her hair.

With him beside her, everything just felt... right. Daphne smiled.

It had been a good day, after all. Perhaps, she was just like everybody else: she really did not understand her father much. The Duke might be cruel and heartless, but, when it came to his daughter, he was...

What was he? Magnanimous?

Daphne giggled, unable to relate the picture of a Duke with icy-blue eyes and stony expression with that of a magnanimous individual. Gods, it just could never be!

"Would you care to share the joke with me?" Leander asked quietly. She could almost hear the smile in his voice.

"I just can't believe Papa is letting you get away with this," Daphne answered, draping her arm and leg over Leander's body. "He doesn't strike me as the kind of man who will be so generous that he make the King's magnanimity pale in comparison."

And that was saying much, considering that King Darius was supposedly the most altruistic king Thersale has ever known.

"You don't know your father very well, then," Leander commented with a chuckle, as if he knew her father very well!

"He never let us get the chance to know him," she sighed, kissing Leander's shoulder and wishing to the gods that her father never change back to his very detached exterior. "He was almost always indifferent to us..."

"Hmm." Leander began stroking her hair. "He certainly knows how to keep his distance."

A moment of companionable silence enveloped them, before Daphne broke it.

"Are you falling asleep yet, Leander?" she whispered.

Leander chuckled. "Are you kidding? You promised me a night of no sleep, lady!"

She giggled, inching closer to him as she shivered. Leander thankfully held her more tightly, the heat emanating from his body keeping out the cold..

"Are you cold?" he asked, the concern in his voice enough to light a fire in her heart.

"Not when I'm in your arms," she replied. With a sigh, she added, "I've been thinking..."

"Hmm?"

She let out another sigh, as if what she would say next was important. In truth, she merely wanted to tease him. "Flowers and fruits, honey and cheese. They will be nice when you propose to me."

The laughter was evident in Leander's single reaction. "Oh."

"And a fire," she continued as Leander shook with silent laughter. She could not help but smile, too. "So make sure you propose at night, either inside the house near a fireplace or outside, where you have to build the fire yourself."

"You are making demands of me now, naughty witch," he said, still laughing as he tilted her chin up and kissed her lips. "I'll be very afraid indeed to have you as my wife."

"Oh, Leander!" She pushed on his shoulders so that he lay on his back and she was on top of him. "A Wildercross always makes demands, didn't you know? Brattiness runs in our blood. As for the issue of you being scared of me, we can make that work." She straddled him again, running her fingers on the hard planes of his chest. "Promise me undying love and devotion, and I'll be as nice as I can be."

Leander's grin was priceless. He took a handful of her hair and tugged gently. "And how nice is nice?"

"Ranging from naughty to nice, in whatever mood you want me to be," she answered, meaning every single word. She leaned and touched her forehead to his, whispering, "If I make love to you again, will you reconsider? Will you ask for my hand in marriage then?"

The general weaved his fingers through her hair, keeping her head close. "Will you say yes?"

Daphne laughed, kissing his lips before moving her face away. "Nice try, Van Halen. That's why you'll have to propose."

In a quick manoeuvre, Leander had her pinned underneath him on the bed. "You're still going to make it hard for me? After everything we've shared?"

She arched her eyebrows. "Who said he was not going to marry me in the first place?"

As Leander laughed, so did she. He then kissed her lips gently, almost reverently, before whispering, "I'll think hard about it. I don't know if I want you as my wife..."

"Mm-hmm." Daphne recognized the jest for what it was. She touched his face, smiling as she traced the outline of his lips. "Either way, you're stuck with me. Forever."

Leander took her hand and kissed the fingertips. "Yes. Forever."