bakerstreet | The Smut Picture Prompt Meme

With every moment that passes that he doesn't take his eyes from her, Margaret can feel her cheeks grow redder and redder in response. But it must mean that he's pleased with her, or so she hopes. There are things that she doesn't like about her body - that no matter how hard she trains, she's still ... soft, scars from battles past - but he doesn't seem to notice, and it puts her at ease, even though she's completely naked and vulnerable before him.

Although it takes a moment for her to make her hands move, she does, working at pulling the shirt free so she can remove it. Her fingers brush against the skin of his stomach, and she knows now more than ever just how much she wants more.

He can't stop himself from looking. Far more than any other woman he's been with, it's very clear to Cesare that Margaret's body has stories to tell, and he is utterly fascinated by the possibilities.

Cesare brushes his hands over hers for a moment before unlacing his trousers, loosening them enough to make it easy for the princess to push them down. Once low enough, he kicks out of them, leaving them both naked in each others sight. He reaches out for Margaret and pulls her to him again for a kiss, his growing hardness trapped against her belly.

If he were so inclined to ask, she would not hesitate to share with him anything that he might like to know. And maybe, deep down, she is beginning to hope that that was not just a one-time dalliance.

Margaret shivers at the brief contact, barely able to keep from shaking as she does her best to help him remove his trousers. And she might glance at him, curious to see what he looks like bare in front of her, but soon, she meets his eyes once more in the moment before they come together in another kiss. "Will you be gentle? I have never known the touch of another - "

Cesare's hand rises to cup her face his thumb stroking gently over her cheek and her full lower lip. "I promise, I will make this night as comfortable and pleasing for you as I am able. All you need to do is say the word and we can stop."

Not that he wants to, and he suspects that Margaret is surely of the same mind, but he knows how important it is for her to know the choice is hers. Leaning in, his lips close over hers and Cesare slowly begins to guide her over and down to the bed.

Margaret might still be nervous, but the way that Cesare reassures her, that soft stroking of his finger against her cheek, the way that he traces her lips - it's easy to see that he could be gentle, and it's those gestures and the knowledge that she could tell him at any time to stop and he would - she breathes out, and shakes her head, wanting nothing more than to continue. "I don't want to stop."

She knows, and she appreciates having the choice to change her mind - other men wouldn't be so kind. She's glad that she's doing this with him. And she gasps into the kiss, but she doesn't stop moving, desperate to lie down, and to pull him with her, and to experience things that, thus far, she's only had the luxury to imagine in the moments when she is alone and needy.

Although the fire inside of him is already as warm as the one in the princess' hearth, Cesare knows that staying with her this night will be far more fulfilling than if he had left the Vatican to slake his thirst with some readily welcoming Roman. No, Margaret would satisfy much more than just his carnal desires, he believed.

Once Margaret was situated beside him on the bed, Cesare enveloped her with his arms, pulling her close to his body. His kisses were hungry and insistent, tasting her deeply. Below, their limbs began to tangle and wrap around one another, his length now and again grazing her center as they writhed together.

She shouldn't do this, she really shouldn't, she shouldn't even entertain the notion of anything other than speaking to this man, but he's interested, and it would be a lie not to say the same. And now that she's felt his kisses, and felt his hands on her skin, and now her nerves are aflame with desire, and -

Margaret doesn't hesitate to allow herself to be moved into a more comfortable position - and she's very comfortable sitting this close, chest to chest. She lifts a hand to thread through his hair, and she moans happily against his lips. It seems her body has a mind of its own, and she follows his lead, snaking a leg between his, even rocking against him in the moments that she feels him, so close, not yet where she knows she's going to need him to be.

He'd come to the princess' room hoping for this exact outcome, knowing that he would be bringing a great deal more experience to the coupling than she, but Cesare was pleased and surprised to discover just how readily Margaret was giving herself over to her instincts and desires. Cesare pulled her even closer, his hardness either trapped between them or, when they shifted, slipping across her tender sex.

One of his hands slides up her side to cup a firm, full breast and lift it slightly, close enough for Cesare's mouth to closer over the tip. He suckles at her, feeling it tighten and stiffen between his lips before repeating the process on the other side.

Apparently, he'd been able to read her better than she understood herself. Because, while she knows that this is wrong, and that she should deny him what he wants, but ... she can't. Not when she wants it so badly, too. Each movement makes her gasp, and she marvels at the feel of him, every time they move, especially when he teases her, and she waits on bated breath just to see what he's going to do next.

But then he's touching her once again, and she barely has time to find that breath before he slides his mouth over that overly sensitive nipple and -

Gods, she could find her pleasure just through this alone.

Margaret's skin tastes quite delectable and so Cesare is content for the moment to continue devouring her as he is. Except for the idea that springs quickly to mind. While one of his hands remained at the Princess' chest, the other skimmed slowly over her trim stomach.

Cesare tilted his head back up to keep his eyes on Margaret's face as his hand continued to travel until there was warm, tender flesh beneath his fingertips. Once there, he began to stroke her softly.

Each kiss, and each swipe of his tongue, each time he deepens his gentle suction brings Margaret closer to bursting the ball that's beginning to grow large in the pit of her belly. And then he adds something new to the already almost overwhelming sensations that she's experiencing.

Then - as he meets her eyes, he touches her in a spot which no one other than the princess herself had touched before, and it sends shockwaves spreading from that spot all over her body.

"O - oh, I - m - more - "

"Happily," Cesare murmurs with his lips still touching her skin. His fingers play over her sex more quickly, range more widely. He explores between her thighs, listening for the sounds of gasps and moans to tell him which places to revisit and which to give more attention.

He moves back up the bed again to catch Margaret's mouth with his while he flicks his fingertips across the bud at the top of her cleft. "Don't hold back," Cesare whispered hotly, "give me your pleasure. All of it." Tentatively, he began to slip one finger inside of the Princess' entrance.

He is so good, and so practiced that it doesn't take much at all until Margaret has turned into a panting, moaning, shivering mess, and yet, she loves every moment of it. Never before has she felt such pleasure. Never before had she believed that she could feel this good.

Surely, her ladies had been wrong when she'd heard them whispering tales of clandestine meetings with stable boys and kitchen boys in dark corners, because they'd said nothing of this.

And then he's kissing her again, and she's returning each one with as much desire as she can muster, gasping out with each brush of his fingertips. And then - oh, and then he's probing at her with that long, long finger and she shudders in response, unable to keep her hips from arching up, wanting nothing more than being filled.

She's never felt so wild, and wanton, and wicked in all her life. And the truth of the matter is ... she loves it.

The trouble with Margaret's ladies' trysts is, of course, that they were tumbling with boys and not with men. And really, even if they'd chosen one of the men they were likely to have access to, those men would not have shared Cesare's... skill set. He had the same hot, wild, Spanish Borgia blood, only it was indulged more quietly, but no less frequently.

The Princess is responding to his touch and his attentions like a musical instrument in the hands of a master. Cesare finds himself completely entranced by her and her reactions, more than he ever has been.

Cesare moves his hand in circles, stroking her and stroking inside of her, wanting to drive her even wilder, to see her completely undone. "Do not fight, do not resist... take your pleasure... take it."

If they do find themselves in the bed and at the mercy of more experienced, aristocratic men, then they are still not shown the sorts of pleasures that Margaret is experiencing here with Cesare. How she had caught his attention, she might never know, but she's never been more happyto have been dragged along on a trip that she had actually been dreading.

If she could devote enough of her attention to watching him as he watches her, it would bring her all the more pleasure. To know that he watches her so raptly - how could she not feel good about that?

For the first time in her life, Margaret wants to be a good, obedient girl, and she wants to take directions, and it's impossible to hold off much longer, clearly aware that the ball that's growing in the pit of her stomach is growing dangerously closer to bursting. All it really takes until it pops are but a few more of those insistent, demanding strokes, and the words whispered into her ear.

And then - then, it feels as though a waterfall of sensation comes cascading down around her, and she cries out, her throat raw and hoarse with the intensity of it all.

Cesare smiles wolfishly as he watches Margaret taken by the crashing wave of her climax. She's a vision of unleashed, unbridled pleasure that has never before been given permission to run wild. He considers it an honor to have borne witness.

He eases the pressure of his lower hand until he is barely touching the Princess and leans in to kiss her. "That was exquisite to behold," he tells her, fire in his voice.

"You're welcome to a few moments to recover," he promises Margaret. "And then we'll continue."

Now that Margaret's been allowed to let herself go in such a way, she doesn't knwo if she'll ever be able to hold it back. Good Lord, she's never felt so free in all her life!

He might let up with his ministrations, but she continues to shudder, softer and softer until it's just her hands and her thighs that shake and quiver, and she happily returns the kiss, even through her panting breaths. The sound of his voice only just reiterates that is not yet done with her, and the promise of what's to come only makes her want it all the more.

"I don't want to wait."

Cesare smiles. "Very well, then."

Despite recovering from her climax, Margaret's tone of voice and the fire in her eyes tell him quite clearly that she is eager and curious. Cesare shifts, turning his body to expose most of it to the Princess' view. Taking Margaret's hand, he slides it down his abdomen and guides her until her slender fingers circled his length.

"Stroke it, softly at first, and slowly." He sighed quietly as she began to do as instructed. Margaret's hands were soft, and her manner insistent and concentrated

She's hardly completely recovered, actually, and the way that she continues shivering should prove that her body is still thrumming with electric shocks - it's something she's never really felt before, and as surprised as she is by it all, she has truly loved every moment.

It's all the better that Cesare is a kind and giving lover, and that he's willing to teach her rather than simply ... taking her.

Margaret holds her breath as he guides her hand down his torso and she only breathes out a surprised breath as he shows her just what he wants. She might be a bit hesitant at first, her cheeks a flaming red color, but as he quickly grows under her slow, steady ministrations, she can't help but ask -

"How can it be so soft and so hard at the same time? Am I - am I doing it right?"

As soon as Margaret's fingers circle his shaft, Cesare begins to hum quietly, the warmth and tenderness of her touch sending sparks racing up through his body. "The how is a mystery to me, although I am sure some physician or other might be able to explain. But having both sensations has always convinced me that the Almighty intended for copulation to be a pleasurable experience, not just a necessary one."

He leans in presses a kiss to her temple. "And you are doing quite well. You can tell from how hard it is, how it might throb in your hand."

Cesare smiles and runs his fingers lightly over the Princess' skin while she explores him. "Let me know when you are ready for more."

Oh, and it's such a lovely reaction, too, that it encourages Margaret to ... experiment a bit. At first, she varies her pace, and then, she tightens her grip, and then, just because she's curious, she uses both hands, quickly, one after the other. She can barely afford enough concentration to be able to speak. "Were I to ask, I would bring shame upon my family. And, as I have been told, it's not my place to ask such things, much less think them. I am only good for one thing, and that is providing my future husband with heirs - I am only as good as my womb. A lady of my breeding is not allowed to enjoy sex - although, this, now, you are proving that I can."

She breathes out a quiet breath, leaning all the closer. "it feels good in my hands. I imagine it will feel just as good elsewhere."

How a touch can set her nevers on fire, she'll never know, but each moment that passes, her need for more only grows and grows. "I would like - but I don't know ... have I pleased you sufficiently?"

"More than can, Princess," he whispered back hotly, "you should enjoy it. Your body is just as equipped to find pleasure in the act as mine. You should enjoy it."

Margaret's experimentation sends shivers and jolts up his spine. Cesare continued to moan and breathe deeply all the while she moved her hand on his length, doing all he can to encourage her. "I very much hope you find it will."

Cesare nods. "Surpassingly so. Lay back, and quiet your worries." As she did, he stretched out above her.

She breathes out harshly at the words, a shudder wracking her body, although she never loses control of her hands, and never varies the pace of her stroking. "I am - and you are showing me just how much I can enjoy it."

There can't be a better sight than the way he reacts to something as simple as the touch of her hand, and if she could, if they didn't have other plans for each other, she could continue this treatment of him all night.

But she reluctantly stops when he tells her to, and she lies back against the the mound of pillows at her back, and she watches him as he takes his place over her - there is no fear in her eyes, only anticipation of what is to come. "I know you will treat me right."

Cesare is watching and observing her so intently, there is no way he can mistake just how much trust Margaret is placing in him. It stirs him in a way even beyond the great physical desire he has for her already-- he wants to be worthy of that much confidence. He smiles warmly and nods at her words.

"I swear to it," he tells the princess.

Gingerly, he begins to shift forward, pressing himself against her entrance. Cesare's hand has already gotten her warm and wet, and so the going is not difficult beyond her natural tightness. Slowly, he begins to slip inside her.

As he moves, he leans down to Margaret and closes his lips over hers. "Good, good... that's it," he croons.

There is no more vulnerable position to be in - she is bared to him in every way, which does require every bit of trust that she has. And perhaps she should be more cautious - after all, they don't really know each other - but she finds that that is the least of her worries at the moment. For whatever reason, she trusts him implicitly. Of course, no one would blame her for being attracted to him, even if she's never admitted to it outside of this room.

"Thank you," she manages to whisper, the words barely leaving her lips before he shifts, breaching what distance is left between them, and - and ...

Margaret barely manages to stifle a surprised moan as he enters her - having expected the experience to hurt. It decidedly does not hurt. It's ... a bit strange, at first, but once she acclimates, she eagerly returns the kiss, whimpering softly against his lips.

How could anything that felt like this be sinful?

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Sorry! Going to the ER really puts a damper on your RP time.

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Good to hear. :0) Nobody likes going to the hospital.

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