Sentenced to Two Wardens, I Served My Whole Term in Their Bed novel · Chapter 5 of 24

Chapter 5: Ask Again

Anders shut the door of the narrow room behind him and turned the latch.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed in my T-shirt with the lamp turned low.

It had taken me until midnight to stop pretending I was asleep.

He stood against the door with his back to the wood.

"The door is shut," he said.

"I see that," I said.

"Ask me again."

"Come here, Anders."

He crossed the room in two steps and went down on one knee in front of me.

He took my face in both his hands, and the hands shook.

His palms were huge and warm and rough with callus.

"I swore," he said. "Before the whole tribunal. Mikkel and I both."

"And?"

"And I'm going to break it. On purpose. Tonight. I want you to know I knew."

I kissed him.

He kissed me back with his whole mouth, hungry now where he had been careful in the shed.

His beard scraped my chin.

His hands slid into my hair, down my neck, and under the hem of my shirt.

He pulled it over my head and dropped it on the floor.

He looked at me.

In the woodshed I had been dressed.

Now I sat bare in the lamplight, and he looked at every inch of me, slowly, with his lips parted.

"You're so beautiful," he said, and it sounded like it cost him. "I told myself I'd imagined it."

"Imagined what?"

"All of it. You at the Grange, in the snow, on the ridge. Every year."

He put his mouth on my breast.

I gasped and arched and held his head.

He took the nipple between his lips and sucked, then licked slow circles around it.

I felt it all the way down to the wet between my legs.

"Take your shirt off," I said.

"No."

"Anders."

"Later," he said. "Not yet."

He kept the dark henley on, buttoned at the wrists.

I let it go.

I reached for his belt, and he stood and let me strip him from the waist down.

I had never seen anything like the size of him in the lamplight.

He was thick and long and dark with blood.

The knot at the root of him already stood swollen, round and heavy.

"Anders," I said.

"I know."

"I want all of it."

"We'll see," he said.

He pushed me back onto the bed with one hand flat between my breasts.

He knelt over me and kissed down my stomach, slowly.

His beard was rough and soft on my skin, and I held fistfuls of the quilt.

"Wait," I said. "I want to feel you."

"You will," he said.

"Now."

"I'm going to make you ready first. I told you. I'm too big."

He parted my thighs with his big hands and put his mouth on me.

The sound I made would have carried to the bluff.

He licked me with long, deliberate strokes, patient and exact.

He had been listening in the shed.

He knew precisely the pressure I needed, and he built it with a slow, thorough tongue until I was writhing under his hands.

"There," I said. "Yes. Right there."

He pushed one finger in.

Then he added a second, with his tongue still circling my clit, and worked me open.

The stretch went deeper every time.

"Three," I said. "Do three."

He did.

I came on his mouth with a long, breaking cry, clenching on his fingers.

He held my hips down on the mattress and licked me through it until I begged him to stop.

He lifted his head.

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