The Enchantress of Ingley Ch. 08

Zara smiled at the warmth in Jenrea's tone when she spoke of the young man. It was clear that the girl was fond of him. Even knowing that she personally was due to turn the barmaid over to that vile enchantress soon, the tall blonde still hoped Jenrea and her beau would somehow end up together again.

Cordelia must have followed her gaze and noticed the pair, for she straightened and subtly withdrew from Zara's grasp, adopting a more formal posture. She was always a stickler for appearances, and it was good to see her acting more like her usual self. Still, something had clearly been troubling her, for Zara had never seen her lieutenant act as she had with the Squire's daughter.

The tall blonde gave a light tug to the redhead's elbow, and strode toward her own tent, guiding the shorter woman along with a firm grasp. "Come along, we have things to discuss," Zara realized too late that her tone had been a bit more stern than she'd intended.

It had the desired effect, however, for Cordelia bobbed her head and accompanied the bandit queen without complaint.

Once safely ensconced within Zara's tent, the taller woman immediately turned to her lieutenant, and wrapped her long arms loosely about her. She fixed her gaze upon Cordelia's, as if daring her to protest.

"Just what was going on back there?" The blonde was careful to moderate her tone, but feared she still sounded stern. "I've not seen you like that before, you were losing your head, Cordelia."

At first, the redhead was about to protest, but finally she sighed, and her shoulders slumped. "I know, my Lady Blade. I apologize. I shall try not to allow my emotions to detract from my work again."

"That's not what I meant," Zara frowned, then lifted one hand to take Cordelia's chin in a gentle grasp. After tilting the shorter woman's head upward, she added, "I was worried about you. I am still worried about you. Please, tell me what was going on with the squire's bitch daughter. I want to help you."

Tears shone in Cordelia's bright eyes, before welling forth, As they spilled down her cheeks, the redhead took a deep, shuddering breath to steady her nerves. In all the time she'd known her lieutenant, Zara had never seen her break down like that.

"It's her father. His treachery is the reason I can never be close to mine. It infuriates me, to know that she can enjoy her family, after her father ruined mine."

Zara frowned at her companion's words, and slipped her arms about the smaller woman. As Cordelia leaned into the embrace, the bandit queen sighed, and nuzzled her hair. "My sweet, sweet Delia. You can't blame her for her father's misdeeds."

This earned a sniffle, and a tearful face buried against the leather strained taut over the blonde woman's bosom. "I know," the words were muffled, but still audible. "I just can't help myself. Every time I see the little bitch, I just want to tear her apart. I want her to suffer for everything her father did to mine, everything he did to my mother, to me..."

Zara wasn't certain about her lieutenant's family situation, beyond the idea that Cordelia's father was some sort of noble, and a scandal of some sort had forced her mother and her from court. It was all beyond her understanding. Marissa's appearance had revealed more about her lieutenant than years of service had.

She wasn't entirely certain she liked it. Things were so much easier when their relationship relied on shared greed and physical attraction.

"It's not like the old Squire offers anything in the way of a decent family," the blonde offered in a gentle murmur against the top of Cordelia's head. "And after tonight, she'll be passed off to the hands of that sorceress."

The shorter woman sighed heavily, and wrapped her arms tightly about Zara's waist. "I know, I just can't help myself." She rested her head upon the bandit queen's chest, and closed her eyes.

For a long moment, Zara just held her, before finally speaking in a soft tone, "Whatever you wish to do, I will be behind you, my dearest Delia. Just be certain of what you want. I couldn't bear to see you lose yourself to hatred."

Cordelia turned her eyes back up to Zara, and a smile gradually lit her features. This time it was her that stood on her tiptoes, and initiated the kiss. Her forwardness took Zara by surprise, but it was far from unwelcome. The bandit queen returned the kiss, deepened it. Her lips were hungry against the shorter woman's, and her hands roamed down Delia's slender back.

The redhead arched upward against Zara, pressing herself into the taller woman's more bountiful curves. Breaking the kiss, Zara pushed her lieutenant toward her bed, little more than a pile of quilts and furs in a frame. As the two shuffled along, Cordelia worked the clasps and straps of her own leathers free, letting that armor and clothing tumble piece by piece to the straw mats covering the floor.

Soon, the comparatively petite woman stood nude before the bed. It was a sight Zara never grew tired of, the way her delicate form seemed almost fragile, the pale tone of her skin, such a contrast to Zara's own golden tan. Even if she had known nothing of her lieutenant's noble blood, seeing her standing like some fine doll would have made it difficult to imagine she was of any lower station.

With trembling fingers, Cordelia sought to relieve Zara of her leathers. The Bandit Queen helped peel that taut material from her muscular form, revealing limbs crisscrossed here and there with the faint scars of a life spent in conflict. Delia leaned in and traced her soft lips over one faint, pale line. That soft touch traced along one tanned collarbone, then over the upper swell of one breast.

Zara couldn't help herself. She gripped Delia's hair and pulled her lips away from her chest, only to capture them with her own. A ravenous kiss stifled any protests the smaller woman might have made, as the amazonian frame of her commander pressed her into the soft furs splayed over that bed.

She reveled in the taste of her lieutenant, and when their lips parted, Cordelia's soft hiss of, "Please, my love," was all she needed. The taller woman gave her hips a shake to let her leather trousers cascade from their broad swells, before she pressed one bare leg between Cordelia's, looming over the redhead amidst those furs and quilts.

The sight of those beautiful eyes staring up at her, the feel of that slender form trembling under hers sent a shiver of want down the taller woman's spine. She dipped her head, and trailed her lips along the redhead's body, interspersing suckling kisses with little nips and flicks of her tongue. The taste of her skin mingled with the scent of perspiration and the subtle perfume she insisted on wearing.

Zara teased her lips down over Delia's flat belly, then traced her tongue in a little circle over her navel. She smoothed her hands over her love's toned thighs, urging them to part. It took little effort before the redhead opened herself to Zara's ministrations.

The larger woman spoke in a soft voice as she descended further, hardly above a whisper, "You know, if your father hadn't been forced to part from you and your mother, we would never have met." With an impish grin, she then shifted to nip at one inner thigh, producing a gasp from Cordelia. "Perhaps we should be thankful..."

Cordelia's breath caught in her throat, and she gripped firmly at Zara's golden locks. "Don't press your luck, my Lady," she hissed downward, but then hooked one elegant leg over Zara's shoulder. With a tug at that hair and tense of her calves and thigh, she guided the bandit queen's lips toward her wet, wanting folds.

The blonde's tall, lanky form curled up at the foot of that makeshift bed, and eagerly followed her lover's lead. As her tongue and lips went to work, she nuzzled her cheek against that raised thigh. Her hands slipped to Cordelia's hips, just gently cradling and drawing them up to her seeking tongue.

"I love you, my Lady," Cordelia's words were barely whispered, and near muted by the soft skin pressed to Zara's ear, the thunder of her own pulse past her ears. Yet with those words, the bandit queen offered a soft moan in response.

All thoughts of her earlier amusement with Jenrea fled from her mind, leaving only one lingering doubt. Just why had she been so eager to treat the barmaid's requests with such kindness?

Such thoughts were quickly lost amidst the bliss of warm flesh and wanton cries.