Divine Misdemeanors

He leaned over me, his knees still pi

He pi

He leaned his face over mine, and whispered, “Don’t frown, Meredith. That’s not the look I want on your face right now.”

My voice was breathy, but I managed to ask, “What look do you want on my face?”

He kissed me. He kissed me as if he was eating me from the mouth down, all teeth and biting, and then when I was about to cry enough, he changed to a long, deep kiss, as tender and full of care as any I had ever had.

He raised his face just enough so I could see his eyes. They weren’t spirals anymore, but just a glowing green as if he would be blind from the light. “That look,” he said. “You said in the shower that you’d had all the foreplay you needed, so I won’t bother tonight, but I want you to know that I am not like your Mistral. There are nights when gentle is good, too.”

“But not tonight,” I whispered.

He smiled. “No, not tonight, because I’ve seen you make a thousand decisions every day, Princess. Always in charge of something, always a choice to be made, always something to affect so many people. I’ve felt you needing to have a place where the decisions are made for you, and choice is not yours, some place where you can let go and stop being the princess.”

“And be what?” I whispered.

“Just this,” he said. He pi

He was almost too long for the angle he was using, so he had to use his free hand to move himself until he could slip the tip of himself inside. He was wide enough that even with my earlier sex, he had to push himself inside me, working his way in with his hips.

I raised my head enough that I could watch his body push its way into mine. There is always something about that first time that a man enters me that makes me want to watch, and just the sight of him so thick, so big … made me cry out, wordlessly.

He had almost his full weight on my wrists where he had pi

I cried out twice more before he worked his way as far inside as he was going. We ran into the end of my body before we ran out of the end of him. Then he began to pull himself back out, and then the push in, and finally I was wet enough, and he was ready enough. He began to push himself in and out in long, slow strokes. I’d expected the sex to be rough to go with the way he’d started, but once he was inside me, it was like the second kiss he’d given me, deep, tender, amazing.

He worked that slow, steady stroking until it spilled me over the edge and made me scream his name. My hands strained under his, and if I could have reached him I’d have painted his body with my nails, but he held me easily, keeping himself safe while he rode me and made me scream his name.

My body ran with light, my skin glowing to match his. My hair was like ruby lights reflecting on the white and dark of his hair, and my eyes adding shimmering gold and different shades of green to his, so that we lay in a tu

Only after I was a quivering thing, all nerve endings, and fluttering eyes that could focus on nothing, did he start again. This time there was nothing gentle about it. This time he rode me as if he owned me, and he wanted to make certain that he touched every part of me. He pounded himself into me, and it brought me again with almost the first stroke, so that I screamed over and over again, as if every push of his body brought me. I couldn’t tell where one orgasm stopped and the next began. It was one long line of pleasure, until my voice was hoarse with screaming and I was only dimly aware of my surroundings. The world had narrowed down to the pounding of his body and the pleasure of mine.

In the end, he gave one last push, and in that moment I knew he’d been more careful, because that last thrust got a real scream out of me, but the pain was mingled with so much pleasure that it ceased to be pain and just became a part of the warm, glowing edge of ecstasy.

It was only as he began to pull himself out of me that I realized he wasn’t pi

He moved from on top of me and I realized I couldn’t move my legs either. More of the ropes were laced around my thighs and lower legs.

It made me struggle harder to see, to focus, and to be aware. I hated to chase back the edge of so much pleasure, but I wanted to see what he’d used to tie me, and how he’d done it without moving his hands.

There were vines around my wrists, vines that led to more vines that had climbed part of the glass wall, so that the dark lines of them were silhouetted against the softening dark. It wasn’t as dark as it had been when we started, but it wasn’t dawn either. The darkness was fading but there was no true light. False dawn pressed against the windows, half-hidden by the dark lines of ivy vines.

Ivi got to his feet, using the back of the couch to steady himself, and even then he almost fell. “I haven’t been able to pleasure a woman like that in so long. I haven’t been able to call the vines for even longer. You are ivy-bound, Princess.”

I tried to say that I didn’t know what that meant, but Briac was standing by the vine-covered glass. He was nude, and I could see the ash-white of his skin, not moonlight skin like mine, but a gray-white that no one else in either court could boast. His shoulders were broader than Ivi’s, and there was more meat and muscle to his body. Brii was still beautiful, graceful with his long yellow braid of hair trailing over one shoulder and down the front of his body so that it half hid the eager length of him, but he’d have had to unbind his hair to cover his grace completely. I lay there, bound hand and foot, unable to rise, or move, and there he stood over me nude and ready.

“This is not the way I would have come to you first, Princess Meredith,” he said. He seemed almost embarrassed, which wasn’t an emotion we allowed during sex much.

“He doesn’t do bondage much, our Briac,” Ivi said, and there was that teasing note that had become his speech, but that edge of sorrow that he’d had for so long was missing, as if there was no room for anything but that happy afterglow.

I pulled at the vines, and they moved against my skin, binding closer, twisting and alive, so that they tightened their grip as I tugged on them.

“Yes,” Ivi said, “they’re alive. They’re a part of me, but they’re awake, Meredith. Struggle and they tighten. Struggle too much and they’ll tighten more than you want.”

Brii dropped to his knees, then to all fours. He began to crawl toward me, and the vines on the floor writhed away from him, like small animals ru