The Queens Maid Ch. 04

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Tales from the French Court.
3.5k words
4.56
12.4k
1

Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 09/14/2011
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Lucreace
Lucreace
59 Followers

The evening descended, finding me still nose deep into the book I was reading, the light had faded but I had lit a candle on my table. I wasn't hungry but one of the serving girls, noting my absence, had brought me a little tray of food. I'd eaten an apple and drank a little of the watered wine but was content to read rather than eat. The evening was cool and a mild breeze stirred my curtains, flickering my little candle. I arose and place a guard over it before picking up the volume again. The sun disappeared behind the horizon and the night deepened.

There was a tapping on my window pane and I looked up, "Good evening my lady."

"D'Artagnan." I said with a smile. He passed me a pile of cloth and a sword as well. "What's all this for?" I said.

"Do you think I can teach you to fight in a ladies gown?" he said leaning on the window sill, "You're beautiful in your gowns, don't get me wrong, but you can't fight surrounded by all that cloth." I put the pile down on my bed and pick up one of the blue garments. D'Artagnan has managed to pilfer me an actual musketeer uniform.

"You want me to change?"

"Do you want to learn to fight?"

"Well... Go over there." I said pointing to some trees near my window. "I don't want you watching me change." Once I'm sure he's not by the window anymore I take the uniform and struggle out of my dress. I change my corset too, this one is a little tighter than some of my others and if I need to be able to move, a better fitting one would be of more use.

The uniform he'd presented me with was just like what the other men in training wore. I had no real idea how to wear men's clothes however so decided to improvise. The pants were simple enough, being the kind if affair that ended with lace trim at the knees. I kept my own stockings on and pulled on an old pair of shoes I'd not got rid of. The white shirt is a couple of sizes too big and I feel huge when I pull on the blue waist coat which goes over it. I put the tabard over my head and fix it in place with the leather belt from the pile of trappings. I leave the sword on my bed for a moment and look at myself in the full length mirror. I pull my long hair back into a tail and smile at myself. I don't recognise myself dressed like this but I do like wearing the king's livery. The pants are so soft against my skin; they're made from a durable material and I don't know how something that appears so rough can feel so smooth.

Then there are the gloves. These ones fit perfectly. My fingers reach right to the end and the cuffs sit right on my wrists like they're supposed to. I had no idea they made them this small, if I'd have known I would have begged a pair sooner. The inside is lined with soft fur and the outer leather, which has caressed my skin most often of late, is as supple as I remember.

I climbed out of the window and dropped to the floor with my sword in hand. I was about to buckle it round my waist when hands circle me from behind.

"And I never thought you could look any more beautiful." He whispers. He embraces me for another moment; he's so close I can breathe him in. Then he's gone and walking around me. He takes my hand and leads me over the grass into a secluded part of the gardens. He stands opposite me and places his hands on his hips. "What do you know about sword fighting then Connie?" he asked.

"Nothing." I reply, "I've watched the young musketeers practicing but that's it."

"All right, well, the sword I've given you is a little shorter than mine, owing to the fact you're a bit smaller than I, it's also lighter, but that means you'll be faster than your opponents too." He explained. He drew it from the scabbard to show it to me. The blade was fine, like he said and he slashed it through the air a couple of times before handing the hilt to me. It had an ornate handle like his did and felt good in my hand. "Hold it like this," he said. He moved to stand behind me and held my arm with his. "With your feet like this." He nudged my feet into a stance just like his, "You need to be loose when you're getting ready to fight, if you tense up, your body won't be ready when someone comes at you." He explained. "This sword has a sharpened edge and point so it's suitable for thrusting and cutting."

He moved away from me then and I let my arm fall to my side, "Keep your arm raised Connie." I do as he asks and put myself back into the position he'd shown me. "The sword is light but you need strong arms and wrists to manage it. I'll show you how to move." He said standing beside me and performing the action so I could see.

"Show me again." I said, watching again as he moved. This time I copied his movements and he nodded.

"You understand these are the basics of course, it will take me some time to show you everything," he said.

"I know." I replied, "It's going to take a bit of getting used to as well, I never thought, not for a moment, that I would be learning to fight when I came to court. I've never done anything like this before."

"Keep moving dear, we can talk and walk." He said. I nod and concentrate on my feet for a moment. He stays a good few yards away from me, watching my movements as we head down the lawn. My arm is beginning to ache, even though the weapon isn't that heavy. I've never had to hold it out like this before and I can feel the muscles beginning to strain. It's going to be sore in the morning. We reached the edge of the lawn, down by the little river running through the grounds and I stop, letting my sword arm drop. I sheathe the blade and smile.

"I'm going to need a bit of practice at that."

"It won't be easy but you'll pick it up. Don't stop there, draw your weapon and keep going." He said, I can just about make out the encouragement written on his face. I do as he asks and make my way back up the lawn. A couple more lengths and I'm done. I flop down on the bank of the river and let out a sigh. D'Artagnan sat next to me and took my hand in his, "Not bad for a first day." He said. I lie back on the cool grass and look up at the sky; the sliver of moon is surrounded by a thick clouds. He drops my hand and leans over me, his weight resting on his elbow. "You're so beautiful Connie." He said, stroking my cheek with a gloved hand. I take his hand in my own and raise his fingers to my lips.

"Thank you for teaching me tonight." I could make out his handsome face in the moonlight and the soft tumbling of his hair brushed my face.

"Connie..." his voice trails off and I pull my glove off with my teeth. I remove his hat and push my hand through those dark locks. His scent fills me and I drink in the sight of the man who was fast becoming my love. His nose brushes against mine and he winks. He pulls away from me and removed his own glove. He placed it beside my head and pulled the other one off in a swift movement. A smile creeps its way onto my lips as I watch those hands. I want to seize them in my own and touch them. I want to know how they feel in my own. I want... He touches his finger to my lips and drags it along, tracing the outline in one slow movement.

He closes the gap between us and he removes his finger, replacing it with his tongue, I open my mouth and gasp, each tiny movement he makes sends a new tingle down my spine. I moan and try to catch him with a kiss but he pulls back and smirks at me instead. I lick where his tongue has been and his taste lingers on my skin. I want him so much. "I-"

He silenced me with his mouth, pushing his tongue into me and probing my own, his hand caressed the side of my face and came to rest on the base of my neck. His lips were soft, his moustache tickled as he kissed me but I didn't care. I put my hand on the back of his neck and invite him to deepen the embrace. An empty sensation hollows the pit of my stomach and I yearn for him to fill it. D'artagnan pulls back and just looks at my face. "Don't stop." I whisper, my voice is so quiet, I can just hear it.

"My Connie. I want you so much," he said, his voice is thick and I realise he's shaking as much as I am. It occurs to me then that maybe he's as new to this as I am. It can't be, he's been so sure of himself, so gentle with me these few days I refuse to believe that.

"What?" I ask, a frown glimmering across my face.

"I know why you're at court; I can't take from you that which I have no right to." He whispered. I take a deep breath and grabbing hold of his belt, I pull him to me.

"D'Artagnan," I said, kissing him gently on the cheek. He draws me up into his arms and holds me tight, "There's nothing to fear." It's a strange reversal of roles, me saying this to him. His mouth covers mine and I moan at the renewed assault on my lips. This time, it really does feel like an assault. The heat coming from his mouth and into mine is so fierce I fear it will burn me up. His knee nudges between mine and the full force of his desire presses against my thigh. I push my tongue into his mouth, wanting to savour his taste.

He laid me back down again and his hand slips down my neck and onto my chest. I shiver as he cups my breast through the fabric of the stolen uniform and he moans against my mouth. I want to touch him too but don't know where to start. I simply embrace him, wrapping my hands around his waist and arching my back so I feel the full length of his body pressing against mine. His shape fits mine despite him being much taller than me. I break the kiss and move my mouth to the side of his neck, taking the skin between my teeth and nibbling around to his throat. He gasps and holds the back of my head with a steady hand. I bite the apple of his throat and the moan that escapes him could only be a pleasurable one.

He breaks away from me then and arises from the grassy bank, a huge rain drop hits the centre of my head, looks like the clouds are providing us with a wet harvest. "Dearest Connie, if we're to do this, we'll have to find somewhere to go." He said picking up the discarded gloves and his hat. I push myself up and take him by the hand. I can feel callouses on his palm, formed by his training but at least his hand is no longer protected by the gloves. The rain lashes down around us and by the time we reach my window we're both soaked through. I climb in and turn to him before allowing him inside.

"We must be quiet." I whispered, "If the Queen or anyone hears us..." he nods and follows me in to the room. He drops the gloves and his hat onto my table. We're both dripping puddles onto the floor and he gives me a smile. I can feel the fabric of the uniform beginning to chafe against my skin and I shiver. I take off the sodden tabard and waist coat until I'm standing in the damp shirt and pants. D'Artagnan follows my example and I sit back and watch him peel off the rain drenched material. The shirt he has on is almost sheer and I can see the well-defined muscles of a warrior echoed through the fabric.

I cross the room and stand in front of him, I take a deep breath, willing my pounding heart to stop thumping, and reach up to touch his shoulders, the part where they join the neck. The muscle there is solid and I squeeze the muscles between my thumb and fingers. He shuts his eyes and a smile creeps onto his face. I drag my fingers down his chest, probing the muscles with my fingertips. I give his right nipple a squeeze through the wet fabric and the sharp intake of breath tells me this is a good thing. I linger there a moment, teasing the nub until I could see it through the fabric. Then I let my hands continue exploring the avenues of his body. His skin is soft underneath the wet shirt and I push my hands up, letting my warm hands explore his cool flesh. I stop at the patch of hair underneath his navel and he cups my chin in his hand. Angling my face up towards him, he kisses me with such tenderness I could weep.

"You've never touched a man before?" he said, his voice low in my ear. I shake my head and move my hands around his back, walking them round slowly, so I could savour the feel of his flesh under my fingers. I stop at the waist of his pants, not sure if it's all right to go further, yet not wanting to stop. The exploration has done something wonderful to me as well, I can feel my own pulse between my legs and I ache there too. He pulled the wet shirt over his head and dropped it onto the pile of other wet clothing. He then lifts my shirt over my head to reveal my chemise and corset. I slip my hand below the waist of his pants and begin working at the buttons that held them up. I managed to work them open and when they fell to the floor, he stepped out of them. He began kissing my neck and the ache between my legs deepened. He worked at my own pants and I leave them behind on the floor. D'Artagnan guides me to the bed and lays me down. He stands back and I get a good look at him. He casts an impressive sight standing there almost naked. My eyes are drawn to the swelling at the front of his white shorts and I can't help blush. He follows my eyes and smirks at me with a mild shrug. "You see what your touch does?"

I beckon him over and he lies beside me on the bed, turning to face me he runs a hand down my side and stops at my hip. "Now, it's my turn to explore your delights." He whispered. His hand then pushes me on to my back and works up my stomach, unclipping the fastenings of my corset as he goes. He removes the garment and places it on the floor beside my bed. I can't help feeling a bit exposed in just my chemise but a reassuring hand is placed on my stomach and I manage a small smile. He covers my breast with his hand and probes my nipple with his thumb, the lightening that flashes through me seems to have a direct connection with my sex and oddly enough, my teeth. It is so good it hurts and I whimper as he caresses me. His other hand trickles up my thigh and pauses just before it reaches my centre. He stops and looks me in the eyes, searching for something, I give a nod and he pushes his hand through my thatch and brings it to rest on my quivering lips.

He leans down and kisses me, full on the mouth then. I try to coax his tongue into my mouth but he pulls away. His fingers part my lower lips and he slides one in between them. He gasps at the discovery and smiles, "Connie... you're so wet," I bite my lip and smile at him. He moves his hand to the north of my sex and pressed down with his thumb. I almost squeal, the fire that shot through me was like nothing I'd ever felt before. He moves his thumb in the smallest circular motion; the sensations rip through me like wild fire. I fear it will burn me up at the pace it moves. I twitch away from his hand which he leaves hovering over me. He kissed my neck and smiled before pulling away from me. He moves so he's knelt between my legs and he looks down at my body. I can't help grin at him; he rubs his hand up my thigh again and returns his hand to my pussy. He slides one of those delightful fingers inside me and rests it there for a moment. D'Artagnan looks me in the eye as he slides another finger into me. It's not uncomfortable but it is strange. I feel him wiggling his fingers and then it's not strange any more. I release a low moan and let my head fall back on the pillows. He withdrew his fingers and left a hollow feeling where they'd been.

He shifted out of his whites then before he teasing my legs apart, "This may hurt my love." He whispered, leaning over me. His cock pressed at the entrance of my wet pussy and he rested a hand under my hips. He eased forward and the empty place he'd left was filled again. He placed his mouth over mine before pushing further. A sharp explosion erupted and I let out a cry, muffled by his mouth on mine. I close my eyes and a tear slid down my cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb and kissed my face. Neither of us moved for a long moment. I willed myself to relax and as I did so, the pain seemed to melt away, replaced my something much better. He pulled his hips back and I hissed, I wrapped my arms around his waist and he thrust forward again. It took several strokes before I relaxed into him but once I had, wonderful things began happening.

I raised my hips to meet him and something began to build inside me. I let out a whimper and he nuzzled my neck, nipping the flesh. I gasped as he quickened his pace. He leaned back, taking a nipple between his teeth. His cock drove deeper within me, I fell, only to rise again on a wave and fall back. I grip his shoulders with my nails, my breath coming in short pants. The slick wetness slithers down my thighs and he jerks within me. His face screws up, thrusts his tongue into my open mouth, forcing its attention onto my own. Slivers of fire and ice pierce my thoughts, I wrap my legs around his waist, every muscle clenching around him. We shudder in unison, then his weight bears down on me and he supports himself with his arms.

I drag in a breath, then another, every part of me seems to be shaking. I open my eyes and see D'Artagnan smiling down at me. He recedes from me body and lies beside me, holding me against his naked form. I don't know if I can move just yet but I put my arm over his and let him hold me. His hand brushes my hair from my neck and he kisses my forehead. "My Connie." He whispered. I roll over to face him and lay a kiss on his cheek. I pull the blankets over us and snuggle into his body. I could stay like it forever. Waves of warmth flow through me and my eyes grow heavy.

His lips brush my forehead again and he holds me close for a long moment. "I can't stay here." He said kissing me again.

"I know." I said, squeezing his arm, "Just stay a moment." My eyes close and he holds me for a while. When he moves again I'm almost asleep.

"I'll take my leave of you for now my dear." He whispered, placing his lips on my cheek. I murmur and give a small nod, then the warmth of him is gone. I hear him dress and then climb out the window. I can still smell his scent on the pillow as I slip into the realm of sleep.

Lucreace
Lucreace
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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago

I have become enamored of this authors writing, both the Pirate and the Thief, and The Queen's Maid. I'm left in "suspenders" by both unfinished works. Well done

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