Thorns for a Rose Pt. 03

Rain was falling fit to drown the world. The road, which Margaery had been following since morn, was quickly turning into a muddy quagmire, so she had taken shelter beneath the trees. Even here the water found its way down, dripping from sodden leaves onto the hood of the peasant's cloak she had snatched from a clothesline earlier in the day. She was cold and wet, and clutched the cloak tightly around her throat as she peered out into the pouring evening.

A little way down the road, light glowed behind coloured glass. There was an inn, and quite a fine one too. A little discomfort and she would be under its eaves. Steeling herself, Margaery dashed out into the rain and splashed her way down the road, fouling her boots and the hem of her cloak. A gust of wind slapped rain into her face, and she was still blinking moisture from her eyelashes when her boots found the wooden steps and she hurried up into the shelter of the porch.

Her pale hand rose on a slim wrist. Fingers that had never had to grip a spade or hoe rapped smartly on the thick wooden door.

After a moment's wait, Margaery heard the metallic clatter of a latch lifting. The door swung inwards, allowing warm yellow light to fall across her.

"Can I help you, m'lady?"

The speaker was a young man, broad-shouldered and dark-haired. He spoke carefully, as if afraid of giving offense.

"Yes, I would like dinner and a room for the night."

"Come inside."

The young man stood back, pulling the door wider so that Margaery could slip past him. She lowered her hood as she crossed the threshold, light from the fire catching on her long, auburn tresses. The young man pushed the door shut behind her and dropped the latch, cutting off the sound of the rain.

The common room was large but mostly empty, with only a few tables occupied. Men sat alone or in small groups, and while some flicked their gaze over to Margaery, an air of subdued disinterest prevailed.

"I am Aaren, m'lady. This is my father's inn," said the young man. "Would you like to see our rooms first, or shall I have some food readied?"

"Is the innkeeper here?"

"No, m'lady, he's away at the moment. He's gone into town to get supplies, and won't be back until tomorrow."

"Well, lucky us then."

"Sorry, m'lady, why is that lucky?"

"Because that means you get to take care of me all by yourself."

Margaery smiled brightly at the handsome young man, who blushed.

"I'll see the rooms first, I think."

Aaren nodded. "Up the stairs, m'lady."

Margaery was relieved when the staircase walls closed around her. She knew the raider was still out there somewhere, and would likely come looking for her once he recovered from the blow she'd dealt him. She doubted he'd be able to track her through all the rain, but for the moment privacy and anonymity suited her just fine.

The stairs led up to a long corridor which ran the length of the inn. Aaren led Margaery towards one room and then seemed to think better of it, taking her further down the hall towards the very end. He pushed open the last door on the right and then stepped back to let her through.

"This is our finest room, m'lady."

Margaery walked in slowly and turned around, taking it all in. The wooden floor was chilly underfoot, but a thick rug covered the central space at the foot of the bed, which was a large four-poster. Dark, heavy beams held up the ceiling, sloping away from the hall towards the far wall, which was only chest-height except for within a large alcove opposite the door. A comfortable seat was positioned beneath the lead-paned window and would be a lovely place to read during the fine weather, but right now the dim glass showed only a distorted version of the rainy night. Opposite the bed, a large fireplace dominated the right-hand wall, and Margaery saw that it had no back wall, allowing fires lit in the pit to warm a second room. A small door on the far side of the fireplace led through to said room, and Margaery sighed with satisfaction after she opened it.

The innkeepers must have been making a good profit, for the washroom was quite large. A concertina partition made of thin paper stood between the tub and the door, providing an extra layer of privacy, while the tub itself was easily large enough for two people. It was made of wood, wider at the rim than the base, creating sloping edges to lean back against. There were benches within the tub on which to sit, and on the far side a wooden frame stood ready to receive her clothes. The bathroom floor was tiled in earthy red and there was only one small window, giving it a warm, cosy feel. Margaery turned back to Aaren.

"Food first, the best meats and vegetables from your kitchen. While I'm eating you can light that fire and have the tub filled. I'll be staying the night."

***

Margaery ate heartily but in silence, and once her stomach was full the sensation of dirt on her skin pressed in with renewed insistence. Returning upstairs to her room, she found flames dancing in the hearth and steam rising from the bath, curls of vapour caressing the air on their way to the ceiling.

With nimble fingers, Margaery untied her cloak and let it fall. Beneath it she wore the dress she'd snatched from her bedroom the day the raider kidnapped her, now stained and creased from travel. Reaching down with crossed arms, she grasped the fabric and pulled up as she straightened, fluidly stripping the dress away. She shivered, the warming air still cold enough to speckle her arms and belly with goosebumps. Her nipples went hard, pink bumps stiffening on the crowns of her full, pale breasts. Last to go were her smallclothes, the bunching fabric sliding over the curve of her bum as she bent down to take them off. They fell lightly from her loins, joining the rest of her garments on the floor.

Naked, Margaery crossed the room to the tub. She climbed in, sighing with bliss as she lowered herself down and the warm water embraced her body. She leant back and closed her eyes, savouring the sensation. Even sitting on the bench, the water came up to her ribs, gently lapping at the base of her breasts like a lover's tongue.

Margaery scrubbed her body with soap, running the hard cake up and down her slender legs and across her belly. She slowed down as she went around her breasts, enjoying the sensation of her flesh yielding gently to the soap and feeling a small thrill as her nipples disappeared under its hard edge. When she went to wash between her legs, she indulged one of her guilty pleasures and let the corner of the bar slip between her lower lips, running it up and down over her nub several more times than was necessary for hygiene.

With her skin finally clean, Margaery took a breath and lowered her head under the water, running her fingers through her long curls to tease out any knots. She came up with a gasp, glowing with the twin sensations of warm water and clean skin. Using her hands to build up a lather, she washed her hair and then let it hang down around her head and neck in darkened strips, the ends drifting slowly in the water.

Margaery heard a polite knock on the door in the other room.

"Enter," she called.

One of the serving girls she'd seen downstairs came in, carrying fresh clothes she'd requested earlier. They were simple garments that probably belonged to one of the staff, but with her only dress soiled Margaery couldn't afford to be choosy. She nodded her thanks as the serving girl set them down on a stool.

"Will m'lady need anything else?"

"Yes. The fire is getting a little low, could you send Aaren back up here with more wood?"

The serving girl hesitated, then nodded. She curtseyed then retreated.

A short while later, Margaery heard another lock, louder than the one before. Telling the knocker to enter, Margaery listened as Aaren scuffed his way around her room, setting down a basket of firewood with a crunching thud. She could see his legs through the open fireplace, the flickering flames bathing his trousers in orange light. She watched as the brawny innkeeper's son fed another log into the fire, sparks bursting free from the disintegrating pile as it settled. Smiling to herself, Margaery called to him through the firefly cloud.

"Aaren, could you come in here?"

Margaery heard the washroom door unlatch, and the shadow of the innkeeper's son fell against the paper screen.

"Everything alright, m'lady?"

"Everything's fine, I'd just like to talk to you."

Aaren shuffled awkwardly around the screen and stopped at the sight of her reclining in the bath. Margaery doubted he could see much from here, but there was no hiding the fact that she was naked. She smiled to put him at ease.

"Tell me, Aaren, do you live here at the inn?"

"N-no, m'lady. My father stays some nights, but my family has a house in the village."

"And what does your mother do on the nights your father stays here, all alone with no-one to protect her?"

Aaren seemed confused. "I keep her well, m'lady."

"I'm sure you do," Margaery purred. "You're a big strong man. Tell me, are you married?"

Aaren shook his head. "No, m'lady. Perhaps in a year or two, if..."

"Oh? Is there someone you'd like to marry?"

Aaren looked at the floor. "Yes, m'lady."

"And what is her name?"

"Tess."

"How pretty. Tell me about her."

It might have been the warmth of the room, but Aaren actually blushed at that. He seemed tongue-tied, so Margaery made it easier for him. "What colour is her hair?" she asked.

"Blonde," said Aaren, with undisguised affection. "Like honey in sunlight."

"Ooh, how poetic," Margaery cooed. "Practice talking like that, Aaren, and you could be a bard."

"Thank you, m'lady."

"And what about her face? Is she pretty?"

Aaren nodded emphatically. "Very pretty," he said. "She has soft brown eyes, like...like my old family cow..." he trailed off, embarrassed, but Margaery had heard far worse attempts at flattery from noble sons who had far fewer excuses. She told him so, eliciting a genuine smile.

"And what about her breasts? Is she buxom?"

"I, er..."

"Come now Aaren, no need to be shy. I'm only asking."

"Well, they're er, nice. Very nice."

Margaery shook her head. "But what do they look like?" she pressed, moving teasingly closer to the edge of the bath but keeping her chest below the rim. "Are they small and pert? Are they very big? Or," she stood up, "are they like mine?"

Aaren stared. His faltering answer died on his lips, so Margaery swirled one fingertip in slow circles around her right nipple. "Have you ever touched Tess's breasts, Aaren?"

Aaren shook his head dumbly.

"Would you like to touch mine?"

Aaren didn't seem capable of answering, so Margaery took her finger off her breast and beckoned him forward with it. He shuffled towards her like a sleepwalker, mesmerised by her perfect breasts as they gleamed wet in the candlelight. Once he got close enough, Margaery took hold of his wrist and dipped his hand in her bath, suggestively close to her vulva, before lifting it and placing it on her left breast.

"Feel it, Aaren. Give it a gentle squeeze if you want. Tess will like your touch better if you've had some practice."

Silently, Aaren began to caress her breast. Unprompted, he dipped his other hand into the water and took her right breast in hand as well.

"That's good. Women like it when you play with their nipples too, just remember to be gentle."

Margaery half-closed her eyes and bit her lower lip as Aaren ran his calloused fingers over her springy, responsive nipples. She gave him an encouraging little moan.

"That's nice," she gushed. "But I can show you more. Do you like the sound of that?"

Enthralled, in completely over his head, Aaren swallowed and nodded.

"Would you like to take your clothes off and join me?"

Margaery crouched down in the water and watched with undisguised relish as Aaren stripped off his clothes to reveal a solid torso rippling with muscle, a flat stomach, and a hard penis of very pleasing proportions indeed. The hair below his navel was dark and coarse. Margaery moved back onto the bench to allow him space to climb into the tub, and he sighed with pleasure as he sank down in front of her.

"Lie back," Margaery instructed him.

Eyes bright, Aaren reclined against the opposite side of the tub. Transitioning onto her knees, Margaery bent forward over his pelvis and lined her cleavage up with his erection. Under the water, she took the sides of her boobs in her own hands and pressed them together around Aaren's cock. Sliding gently up and down, she began to pleasure him with her chest. Aaren's eyes bulged, the tavern-boy unable to believe his luck that the gorgeous noblewoman was rubbing her breasts up and down his cock.

"Do you like that?" Margaery asked. Aaren nodded fervently.

"If you stand up, I can do something else."

Aaren rose obediently, and Margaery smirked as his erect penis came towards her face. Taking him in hand, she began to pump him up and down. Leaning in, she kissed his balls and then ran her tongue over them, eliciting a helpless moan. She dragged her tongue up the underside of his penis before suddenly opening her mouth and taking him inside it. She bobbed her head up and down a few times, letting him get used to the feel of it, then sucked at him as she dragged her lips back over his head and came off with smack of her lips. She then began to pleasure him properly, enjoying the virile young man's penis in her mouth. Aaren was moaning, lost to pleasure as she alternated between lathering his shaft with her saliva and sliding her hand vigorously up and down through the slickness she had created.

But her own arousal, which had been slowly building all afternoon, was becoming more and more insistent, the lips of her vulva already parted in anticipation. Margaery stopped pleasuring Aaren and looked up.

"What do you think? Would you like it if Tess did that to you?"

Aaren groaned and nodded, his penis hard in Margaery's hand.

"Well, using your mouth goes both ways. Sit back down."

Aaren sat heavily and watched appreciatively as Margaery stood up, her pale pink body running and glistening with water. She ran a suggestive hand down her own chest and belly, hunching her shoulders forward to accentuate her breasts as she found her clit and began to rub herself in front of him.

"All women have a nub inside the folds between their legs, Aaren. Touching it gives us great pleasure. But even greater is when a lover touches it...with their fingers, or with their tongue."

Aaren needed no further invitation. He shifted forwards onto his knees, held back by uncertainty but driven on by lust. Margaery's vulva glistened wetly before him. She murmured her appreciation as he ran his strong hands up the backs of her calves and thighs before gripping the curves of her bum. He pulled himself in close and began to kiss and lick her, and Margaery shuddered with pleasure. She wound her fingers through his hair, gasping in time with the pulses of pleasure crackling from her clit. She was so ridiculously aroused that she reached orgasm quite quickly, her abdomen jerking as she cried out and bent forwards, resting her stomach on the inn-boy's head. Slowly subsiding pulses of pleasure radiated through her.

Taking Aaren by the shoulders, she pushed him back onto the bench and then followed him, carefully placing one foot at a time into the gap between the bench and the back of the tub. Squatting down, she lined Aaren's penis up with her opening and straddled him, watching his eyes widen as her weight settled over his pelvis. She gasped and he moaned as their bodies came together, her vagina embracing his cock. She placed her left hand on the lip of the tub behind his shoulder and her right off to the side, using both angles to gain leverage as she rolled her pelvis back and forth and fucked him, water sloshing with every motion.

Between the heat of the water and the heat of their bodies their skin began to turn pink, words falling away as they spoke the language of lust. Aaren moaned as Margaery took his virginity, the warm scent of her skin filling his nose as he gave in to his desires and began to touch and lick her of his own initiative, fondling her bum as she rolled it back and forth and licking drops of water from her breasts as they moved in and out of his face. He let out a ragged breath, his climax approaching, and suddenly began to look panicked.

"Relax," said Margaery, laying a gentle hand on his cheek. "You can finish inside me if you need to. Just imagine I'm Tess."

"Oh, m'lady, I...oh, uhhh..."

Margaery smiled at Aaren as he came inside her. She waited until his breath finished heaving and kissed him gently on the lips before extricating herself.

"There," she said. "How was that?"

Aaren looked at her with bright eyes, overheated and overwhelmed by what had just happened. Margaery allowed herself a satisfied smirk, imagining his virginity nestling inside her alongside the others she had taken.

"M'lady," said Aaren, "why me?"

"Can't believe your luck?" Margaery grinned. "Well, you are lucky. But so am I. You were just what I needed tonight."

"So...you were just using me?"

Margaery felt a stab of annoyance. Aaren's naivety was unsurprising - and part of what had drawn her to him in the first place - but now, with his seed still inside her, he was reaching for validation he didn't deserve. It was so typical of men to use women without a second's thought or regard, yet also demand that every woman who fucked them pretend it was because they were special. She had to remind herself that Aaren was young, and a commoner at that. His head was probably full of all sorts of silly romantic notions. She would navigate his expectations carefully, if only so that she could easily extricate herself from the situation when the time came.

"I wouldn't put it that way," she said to him. "Does one person use another when goods are bartered, or do both parties work to mutual advantage? I got the satisfaction I was searching for, and you learned a number of things which will delight Tess. Indeed, you may have gotten the better deal - young men like you rarely get the chance to lie with noblewomen."

"But m'lady, we didn't lie together," said Aaren, his smile heralding a joke. "We were sitting down."

Margaery's laughter floated to the rafters like bubbles. She liked this boy, who was wise enough to put his ego aside and dissolve the tension with a joke. She stood up and climbed out of the bath, being sure to give him a good view of her wet bum.

"Come then," she said, holding out her hand. "Let us lie together."

Aaren looked hesitant. "M'lady, I'm not sure I..."

"Don't be foolish, Aaren," she said. "From your point of view, my goods are only available for a limited time."

Aaren nodded, accepting her logic, and followed her out of the bath chamber. On the rug in front of the fire she coaxed his penis back to life with the gentle ministrations of her mouth, tasting the last of his seed and her own lingering tang beneath the flavour of soap. He gradually stiffened inside her as the heat of the flames dried their skin, then moist and warm she led him to the bed. Loose-limbed and a little sleepy, she lay on her belly and invited Aaren atop her, feeling his penis slip up inside her close to the confluence of her thighs. Hands twined in the thick sheets, she gasped her satisfaction as he thrust down from atop her.

Margaery moaned into the linens as her whole body rolled with Aaren's thrusts, the head of his penis rubbing that satisfying spot deep inside her. They both began to sweat, their musk joining the fresh aroma of clean skin. Margaery was slippery now, Aaren's hips slapping into her buttocks every time he thrust. The pleasure he had kindled inside her continued to intensify, and she realised she was headed towards a second, deeper orgasm. Gasping now, she writhed under the innkeeper's son, pushing her bum back against him as he drove into her over and over. Her vision began to blur, and then suddenly a ragged exclamation sprung from her open mouth, her cry of ecstasy broken by waves of pleasure so intense they rendered her periodically mute. She was so awash with her own pleasure she didn't immediately register Aaren's own strangled cry, but she did feel it as more of his seed sluiced into her welcoming loins.