Casanova Redux Ch. 11byvelvetpie©
My dream was coming true. I was breathless with anticipation, wondering if he was going to accept. I thought about my mother and Arthur. How had their courtship gone? How did my mother know that Arthur was the one for her? I knew their marriage wasn't one of convenience and that there was true love there. I saw that when Arthur contracted with Martin Turner to service my mother in his stead. If that isn't true love, then what is?
And now, I was poised to make my own decision. I knew what I felt in my heart but I was worried about what was in his heart. I didn't want Withers to fuck me out of pity or in reference to being around as I grew up. I wanted him to fuck me because he wanted to be inside me, because he wanted to pump me and look into my eyes when I came. I wanted him to gift me with the same thing I'd received from Jenny: the trust that only came with intimacy. I itched to know ...
* * * * *
She was standing too close for him to think and he knew he'd never think about lavender the same again. He set his wine glass on the side table and pulled her to him, capturing her mouth so quickly that Cassia could barely breathe. A sweet ache spread through her stomach and she tossed her own glass aside, looping her arms around his neck and sighing at the roughness of his hands on her body. She had wanted to concentrate on feeling the differences between being kissed by a man or a woman but the passion she felt wiped every thought from her mind.
She felt herself being lowered to the soft mattress and groaned at the feeling of his body pressing her into it. He was so thick and muscled and her senses rejoiced in his masculinity. Cassia would never have believed that a man could be so gentle but Withers was. His broad hands caressed her skin while his tongue caressed the inside of her mouth, raising her temperature to boiling.
He pulled her on top of him, still feverishly kissing her soft, sweet mouth and let those same hands run the length of her form, reaching for the hem of the gown. As the fabric fell away, his palms smoothed her skin, pausing at the soft curve of her ass, then progressing upward to the small of her back. She hummed, writhing against him and opening her legs a bit farther. He took the hint and returned his hands to her ass, letting his fingertips trace the soft crack and skirting over her asshole in favor of her moist hole.
Cassia gasped into his mouth when his fingertip grazed her hole, making her cream even more. She rolled to the side, taking him with her and guiding his hand into the space between them. Again, Withers took over, stroking her silky pubic hair, then sliding one thick finger into her slit and opening her up. She was so aroused that his first touch to her clit brought her to a roaring orgasm, sending tremors through her body. When she opened her eyes, Withers was staring at her, a look of amazement on his face.
"Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"Oh, no! Not at all." She took a deep breath, trembling again as his fingers continued to move and stroke. "I just came."
The smile he gave her made her heart skip a beat and he leaned forward, kissing her again and pushing his finger deeper into her until he was knuckle deep in her creamy hole. Cassia came again, gripping his shoulders and sucking his tongue into her mouth. "Oh, Withers."
He pulled back and stared into her warm eyes. "My name is Peter."
"Peter." The word rolled off her tongue softly and she touched his weathered cheek, tracing a scar that laid there. "It's my turn."
Withers didn't know what she meant until he felt her hands sliding down his hips. "No."
"No." He caught her hands this time, a stern look on his face. "Please, Cassia. Don't."
"Why?" Cassia searched his eyes, wondering at the hint of sadness in his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"I am." He released her, sitting up and then standing. "This was a mistake."
"How can you say that? You know it's not wrong!"
"Cassia, you are a beautiful eighteen-year old woman with a gift that any man would be proud to be given ... "
"Any man except you?"
Withers hung his head, turning away from her. "Yes. Except me."
Tears burned her eyes as she leaped to her feet. "I've been such a fool! To think that you might actually love me."
Her words caught his attention and Withers turned back to her. "Love?"
"Yeah, love. Obviously, you've never heard of the word ... " Her sobs cut her words off. "I was so stupid!" She couldn't stay in the tent with him any longer. It just simply hurt too much.
"Cassia! Cassia!" His shouts went unanswered as he knew they would and soon, she was nothing but a dark, bobbing form in the distance. Withers turned back, gazing into the tent and wondering if he'd made a horrible mistake.