Responsibility Ch. 09

Rahela wasn't able to comfortably hide her face with a hand. She had to improvise with, as undesired as this action was, one of the man's arms. She pressed most of her face into the silk sleeve that covered the thick limb. Her lips contorted against the smooth texture as the man's free arm moved. His hand clasped onto her inner thigh.

Hot, a little sweaty, definitely as rough as she remembered, but this time the hand wasn't in hers. There was a light bandage wrapped there, where he'd cut himself.

Her head felt squeezed. Her teeth locked up. Her lips tightened. Her eyelids were hurting. Two sources of heat made her even more uncomfortable. The heat from the man's arm and the blushing in her face. She had to turn her head to one side.

His hand slid up. She wasn't able to stop herself from trying to close her legs a bit. The Emperor's response wasn't a scolding. He only put his lips on her scalp and resumed the nuzzling motions. Rahela's thighs weren't strong enough. He had no difficulty pushing his hand, forcing her thighs apart.

Rahela made a tiny, mewling cry. She scratched at the Emperor's clothing. She trembled. She wanted to bite something. She almost hurt her tongue.

Her poor little womanly parts! They hadn't had such a thing happen before! Foreign, peculiar flesh, it cupped almost everything. Her labia, her pubic hair, everything.

Pain!! Searing pain!!

It was as she'd feared. She'd bitten her tongue.

She actually cried out then.

"Little Princess?" His mouth grazed a line down to her ear. "I'd never harm you. You're going to have my children. You must be healthy for that. Why would I harm you?"

One of his fingers bent, the tip sliding up on her labia's cleft. Her legs jolted. She squawked and slammed her head into the Emperor's chest, which, to her surprise, actually caught him off guard. His fingers flexed and tightened over her womanhood, which didn't hurt but certainly intensified the heat. The bandage ground into the thin hood that hid her clitoris. It had her squawking again.

Something hot and rather persistent was poking up from under her backside.

Rahela's instincts had her squirming, hoping to get away from that thing. The growl that rolled up in the Emperor's chest, up his throat, and then onto her scalp gave a hint as to what that thing was.

Well ... he was a man.

Rahela tried to remind herself that this was a good thing. This meant he was more likely to get her pregnant when the time came. One less problem to worry about. This was good.

But then she was distracted.

The fingers on her vulva moved again. The hand shifted.

A firm touch right on the little hood. Tiny lines and dots were traced, all luring the clitoris out. Odd, twinging sensations, they pulsed, ran through her blood. Her toes curved in her shoes. Her fingernails made painful noises in the Emperor's clothing. Her breath scraped the moisture out of her mouth. Her cheek pressed into the man's torso. She sounded like she wanted to die. She wasn't sure if she wanted to die or not.

The Emperor put a kiss near her temple. "You're safe, Little Princess. Don't fret."

She didn't feel safe.

The pulsing only continued, even reached a point where she was bouncing. She'd forgotten about her bitten tongue, but she bit again. This time, her teeth pinched some of the silk over the Emperor's chest.

Was this ... pleasure? Was this that thing that was apparently the cause for lust?

Was this ...?

Her nerves were at a peak. She barely heard her fingers tearing little holes in fabric.

She coughed.

Her body was light, especially her head. She was falling.

No. She wasn't falling at all. Her thighs were empty. Both of the man's arms were around her. Her skirts had been let back down. One of her fingertips hooked into a hole she'd made. She was too dazed to be afraid about it.

So quiet.

Then his voice.

"If I keep you any longer, my promise will be useless."

"Ah?" Her voice was flimsy. She coughed again.

If she'd wanted to fight him off, she wouldn't been able to. He moved her body for her, settling her in a standing position near the bench. In spite of the darkness, he even found a loose clump of hair that had fallen away from a braid. He seemed to lick his thumb, and then he pressed that hair back in place.

Was he smiling?

"You must go."

Blinking slowly, a little shaken, Rahela didn't bow, didn't even give a reply. She merely picked up her oil lamp and went to the door.

A few moments were wasted trying to find the squire and her maids-in-waiting. It seemed that they'd left the whole library and waited in the hallway. The girls asked if she was alright. Rahela didn't know what to say. She only nodded. She was still quiet during the walk to her bedchamber.

When she was finally alone in bed, Rahela found her logic again. She wondered if most men expressed their grief by playing around with someone else's body. After some more thinking, she sat up, then got on her knees. She snatched up one of her pillows and shook it around, fluffing it. She put that pillow down and got into a fetal position.

Most men probably weren't like the Emperor. He had a unique style of boldness and vigor.

Then, as Rahela suddenly stretched her limbs out, finding nobody else, she wondered if what had just happened between the both of them had been a form of comfort. A way of reaching out to express something he didn't want to express with anyone else. That certain something didn't need to be related to the dead war dog. It could've just been hiding, or waiting, to be expressed for a long time, and the grief from the dog's death might've aggravated the need.

She imagined there were people in the world that had to endure much, much more horrifying experiences than what she'd just gone through. And it was only a sample of what might happen after they were married.

There was no reason to be worried.

***