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Image for the poem The Maids Adventures chapter 7 part 4

The Maids Adventures chapter 7 part 4

The Maids Adventures chapter 7 part 4

I don't need to, Patrick replied, as if he hadn't heard the threat in Garrett's voice at all. I would be interested to see what you did to make her scream so.

She's sleeping, Garrett said shortly. It's my night with her and she's going to need all the rest she can get. The implication that he would be abusing her tonight was clear, but she couldn't feel afraid. Although the intensity of her orgasm had made her scream in a way that Patrick had obviously misinterpreted, it hadn't been awful at all. Not in the way she'd seen Patrick be. Bridget would much prefer to let Garrett do whatever he needed to in order to keep Patrick away from her.

Patrick laughed and she thought she heard him slap Garrett on the back in a comradely manner before they began walking away, crudely comparing the charms of the women. She blocked the conversation from her ears, deciding that it was meaningless, wanting to believe Garrett's actions rather than the words that were currently coming out of his mouth. Not only had he kept Patrick from seeing her again, he'd ensured that she would have an afternoon of reprieve before whatever games they planned for tonight. An afternoon to sleep and rest, and to think he has confused her incredibly in just the past few hours. In some ways, she felt like he'd bared a true part of himself to her when they'd been talking, but she'd also seen what a consummate liar he could be when he chose to. Then he'd given her some of the most intense ecstasy she'd ever experienced and fooled Patrick into thinking that he'd hurt her at the same time, protecting her as best he could from the other man. In fact, she had a feeling that he would have kept her in the tent all day and evening, away from the other man, if Patrick hadn't pushed the issue with his game challenge.

Tiredness was slowly swamping her again as her thoughts swirled around, her body relaxing now that the men had moved away and there was no need to worry that Patrick would come bursting into the tent. No need to worry that Garrett would either. Perhaps she should worry more about the evening ahead, but she was exhausted and this new life had taught her not to worry too far in advance. She might as well sleep while she could and save the anxiety for later.

Besides, she was starting to trust more in Garrett's protection, despite her qualms.

Several times during the afternoon Garrett came back into the tent, once with food for her. He waited until Patrick was back in his tent with the Princess before allowing Bridget out to bathe and take care of her necessary business. With the kind of consideration he was showing her, it was hard not to feel protected and like he cared. Even if he wouldn't explain anything to her even though when she asked he just shook his head and said that now was not the time. It was more than a little frustrating, but there was nothing she could do.

Dinner that evening was an uncomfortable affair. Patrick and the Princess had emerged from the tent; her eyes looking swollen from crying, yet she had an almost dreamy expression on her face. From the little she'd seen and experienced of Patrick's preferences, Bridget shuddered thinking about what the Princess might be enduring. Even if she seemed to enjoy it, Bridget knew that she wouldn't, and the lascivious looks that Patrick was sending her way were not reassuring.

Sure enough, by the time dinner was over, Patrick offered to switch women for the night.

To her shock, Garrett laughed.

You've worn the Princess out and now you want the little maid because she's rested, he said with a grin, in that joking manner that the men have with each other. I told you I was having her rest up for the night ahead. Reaching out he grabbed Bridget and pulled her into his lap, his hand grasping her breast through the cloth covering it. She sat frozen and rigid in his lap, averting her eyes from both of them. Perhaps if you hadn't worn, the Princess out this afternoon!

Icy shards went through her chest and she closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that this hands, indifferent Garrett was the act. If only he didn't sound so convincing, as if what woman he was with truly didn't matter to him.

"She doesn't wear out that easy," said Patrick with a coarse laugh. "There's plenty of vigor left in her for playing. The little maid looks too rigid to be any fun right now, are you sure she's rested? Or perhaps she just needs some warming up."

"I prefer not to share my nights, as you know," Garrett said a little coldly, just bordering on antagonistic but not quite. Bridget was relieved to hear it, fairly certain that this was another way of protecting her. His thumb rubbed over her nipple and Bridget shuddered as his other hand came to rest on her lap, pulling her skirt up and sliding underneath them to caress her inner thighs. Burying her face into his neck she moaned softly, hoping that it was what he wanted her to do. The arm around her back squeezed her encouragingly. "Besides, I can warm her up on my own."

From the way his hand was moving between her legs, she was quite sure that it looked to Patrick like Garrett's fingers were probing much more intimate things than her upper thigh. Obligingly she squirmed, a let out another soft gasp, trying not to be too obvious, but hoping that her actions would prove Garrett's declaration that he didn't need any help with her. Truly, the light, soft strokes of his fingers so close to her womanhood, but not actually touching, truly were doing a marvelous job of warming her up. If Patrick hadn't been standing there watching she might have been tempted to squirm closer, so that his fingers could actually touch her heat.

"What's so special about her?" Patrick asked. The curiosity in his voice seemed sincere.

"Nothing," said Garrett. "But the Princess suits your needs much better than this one does, and I've had more time to teach her the things that I like. Why trade when we both find more satisfaction in the current situation?
"Fine then," Patrick said in a voice full of irritation. She wondered if he was more irritated that Garrett wouldn't trade or that Garrett had managed to neatly side step any true confrontation. Even though she couldn't see his face with her own buried in Garrett's shoulder, she could tell that he was sneering. "Enjoy your evening."

"I plan to."

With that, Patrick stalked away, snapping his fingers at the Princess as he passed her and gesturing towards the tent. Bridget peeked at the other woman, seeing the expression of trepidation and excitement on her face. How could she enjoy Patrick's attentions so much not that Bridget hadn't found release during her, own night with him but she didn't understand the other woman's eagerness or the ecstasy that she'd seen on the Princess' face when Patrick had strapped her? As soon as she heard them enter their tent, she relaxed against Garrett's hard body, finally noticing that the stroking of her thigh and breast had stopped.

When she looked up at him, he had almost a bemused expression on his face as he studied her in the flickering light of the campfire.

"You're quite an amazing little thing, aren't you?" His voice was low again, too low to carry.

Amazing her? Bridget blinked. That certainly wasn't an adjective that had ever been used to describe her, not that she knew of. What do you mean?

You knew exactly what to do to help Patrick to back off." Lifting a hand to her face, he brushed some of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. It was an almost tender gesture, matching the gentle look in his eyes. She wasn't sure that she'd ever seen quite that look on his face before. You don't panic. You still manage to find small joys throughout the day, regardless of the situation. Wonderfully smart, generous, passionate. His voice dropped even lower, as if he was talking to himself and not to her as his hand curved under her chin so that he could rub his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes latching onto her mouth youíre so damn beautiful. She knew that he was going to kiss her then, not for an act or as an opening to bedding, but just for the pleasure of a kiss.

Her body tingling, she tipped her head back and little further and met his lips with hers, her hands reaching up to touch his chest as he angled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. The kiss was gentle, seductive, coaxing, the way a farmer might coax a baby horse into greeting him. Bridget shivered with pleasure, opening her mouth to accept his tongue, her own moving to caress his. As she kissed him back, she could feel rather than hear the groan deep in his chest as his arms tightened and their kiss deepened.

Time seemed to suspend, allowing them to inhabit their own little bubble outside of space and time, outside of their situation. They were just a man and a woman, touching each other in the darkness. He admired her for her spirit, her tenacity and her joy of life as well as her beauty and she found herself believing in the man she saw underneath the front he portrayed, the protective, humorous, and surprisingly kind man that she was able to catch glimpses of when they were alone. Bridget felt her breasts growing heavy with need to be touched, the moistness between her legs welling in anticipation.

When the kiss finally ended they, were both panting for breath, lips swollen from use.

I want you, Garrett said in a hoarse whisper. In the darkness his eyes looked like liquid. Patrick won't be paying attention to us tonight... he'll be busy with the Princess. Say yes, Bridget.

She recognized the plea for what it was, realizing that he was giving her a choice. Of course he wanted her to say yes, but he wouldn't force her if she didn't. But could she? Staring up at him, she ran her fingers along his jawline, feeling the roughness of his stubble against their tips, feeling his jaw clenching at her touch. He held himself quite still, as if afraid she'd run if he moved. Sliding her fingers over his firm lips, Bridget giggled as his tongue flicked out to lick them. A choice... something none of the men had offered. Something he hadn't offered before. Although she quite suddenly remembered that first night with him when he'd done nothing but hold her. Since then yes... he'd taken his pleasure with her, but always when it would be obvious to the other men if he didn't.

For some reason he didn't want them to know that he was different from them.

But now, with no witnesses, he was allowing her to control the situation. So what did she want?

Their gazes met, steady. There was no pleading or insistence in his, only patience and desire. Bridget licked her lips, moistening them, and enjoyed seeing his eyes drop to watch her tongue flicking out.

Yes, she whispered.

That was all it took. Garrett swept her up in his arms, one behind her back and the other under her knees, as she twined her own arms around his neck, and he carried her to the tent. The sheer strength in his body was breath taking he lifted and carried her like she weighed nothing. Once in the tent he laid her down carefully, kissing her soundly as he began to strip the clothes from her body. She helped as best she could at returning the favor, surprised at how much she was enjoying this slow build up, even though part of her wanted to go faster. The desires that Garrett had awoken in her were running rampant throughout her body, making her ache to feeling him plunging between her legs again, to feel his weight on top of her, pressing her down with his passion.

She moaned into his mouth as he cupped her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and toying with her nipples. The sensation traveled directly from her rosy buds to the slick folds between her thighs, her body tingling with anticipation as he teased and worshiped her. The infuriating man only chuckled as he moved away from her, down her body, just as she tried to wrap her legs around him and draw him into her.

To be continued
Written by nutbuster (D C)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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