Being the Maid Ch. 07


It felt like there was something more to the story that she wasn't getting.

"Were you looking forward to living in England?"

Bridget stirred against him, trying to ignore the tingles between her legs as they shifted together. "Yes... I thought it would be an adventure. And I've always liked seeing new places and doing new things. The Princess didn't travel much but many people traveled to us at court and they always told such stories of distant lands..." She wasn't entirely sure why she was telling him this, except that he seemed to want to talk and she couldn't work herself up to beginning something physical with him. "This seemed like my only chance to see any of them for myself."

"England's rather wet and cold compared to Southern France," Garrett said, his voice almost teasing.

"It's still something new and different," she said. "And I suppose I thought that if I truly hated it, I would be able to go back. Not like the Princess, since she'd have been constrained there by her marriage."

"Hmmm," Garrett said, making an enigmatic noise.

Suddenly his hand on her breast slid down her stomach, the hand in her hair curving over her shoulder to grip her other breast and pinch her nipple. She cried out at the sudden sharp pain, her hips and soft bottom pushing back into his groin. Fingers slid through the curls on her mound and into her damp folds and her cry turned into a moan as he began to twist her nipple sensuously, the tugging sensation going straight to her core where his devilish finges were eliciting the most incredibly sensations. Just like that she'd turned into a mass of feminine need, her thighs spreading as she moved her leg back and on top of his to rest, allowing him further access to her body.

The butt of his hand ground against her clit as he slid two fingers into her, moving against her backside. The leather of his breeches rubbed over her buttocks, the hot rod of his cock pressing between her creamy cheeks as it slid up and down along the crease. Bridget found herself arching back against him, both of her hands clasping the wrist of the hand between her legs as she moved. His fingers curved inside of her, rubbing over a particularly sensitive spot that made her jerk and gasp, her fingers tightening around his wrist and she wasn't sure if she was trying to pull his hand away or shove it deeper inside of her.

In front of her, the tent flap burst open and suddenly Patrick was there, leering at them. Bridget closed her eyes and turned her face into Garrett's arm, trying to shut out the sight of the bandit leader. Her body was completely on display for him in this position, only Garrett's hands covering her privates and that seemed even worse than nudity. The hand between her leg slowed its movements, his fingers moving with deliberate strokes in and out of her aching hole.

"Do you need me for something?" Garrett asked mildly.

"You two were so quiet, I wasn't sure our little maid hadn't gotten away from you."

Behind her Garrett stiffened, but his voice didn't change at all from that lazy, indifferent drawl. "No, she's keeping me well occupied. Unless you need me for something else."

The offer was made off-hand, as if it didn't matter to him, but the tension in his body said something different. It was then that Bridget realized how much of a bone of contention she had become between the two men. Not because of her own value - at least not for Patrick although she was becoming less and less sure about her lack of value to Garrett - but because she afforded them another battleground on which to butt heads.

There was a long moment of silence and Bridget peeked out from behind her hair, opening just one eye. Patrick was watching her, watching Garrett's relentless hand between her legs. She couldn't stop the soft mewling sounds she was making, the fingers caressing her insides were too good at building up her hot desires, but she'd managed to almost completely still her movements.

"Perhaps I'd like to join you."

Garrett's fingers inside of her stilled. The air seemed to thicken with tension, a hint of violence. And then she felt Garrett breathe deeply again, all of it washing away. "If you'd like."

Why did he keep putting off a confrontation with Patrick? Was he worried the other man would win?

Yet his acquiesance seemed to placate the other man. Patrick's lips curved in a smile. "Perhaps later... I find I hunger for other things now."

And then he was gone. Bridget's muscles quivered as she relaxed now that his threatening presence had departed.

Turning her head, she managed to look back over her shoulder far enough to meet Garrett's dark eyes. His expression was almost carefully blank and he returned her gaze steadily.

"Would you really have let him join?" she whispered.

There was a long moment of silence and Bridget turned her face away from the flash in his eyes, unable to read his expression. Even if she could read it, he was such a good actor, would it be real?

Pulling his hand from between her legs, Garrett hugged her close, his mouth so close to her ear that she could feel his lips moving. His words were barely a murmur on the air.

"I have no choice. I must be here, with them, for the next few days. After that we will have more choices."

We. He'd said we. Him and her. Bridget shivered. Somehow she knew that Garrett had just shown his trust in her, even though she wasn't entirely sure what his words meant. It sounded like perhaps... escape? Perhaps he meant to leave this group of bandits and take her with him? Her treacherous body and emotions liked that idea, far too well.

Pulling her hard against him, Garrett continued to speak in her ear. "He needs to hear some noises coming from this tent. Noises of my pleasure."

She nodded her understanding. It was another act. And yet not, because she could tell that Garrett wanted her. Some part of her hoped that he truly wasn't like the others, that he wouldn't take advantage of her presence if it wasn't for their expectations, for their audience. Perhaps she was building up a false image of him in her head, but at the moment she couldn't see the harm. After all, it's not like she was relying on him for escape or special treatment, but she might as well enjoy it while she could.

Behind her she felt him moving, the arm that had been between her legs now fumbling behind her buttocks as he pushed his breeches down. The hot rod of his cock pushed against her, the skin so soft it felt like steel-lined velvet as he groaned with pleasure at the skin to skin contact. Bridget squirmed back against him as the tip of his hardness pressed between her legs, coating the helmet of his penis with her creamy offerings. She made soft noises in the back of her throat as his blunt head rubbed up and down her sensitive folds, teasing her opening as she tried to push back against him.

As happened so often with Garrett, she found herself abandoning all sense of dignity, too hot and needy for him to care that she was acting the wanton. Garrett nudged into her from behind and she moved her leg off of his, finding it easier to bend forward and take him into her body when she was no longer twisted to keep her legs spread. Having her legs together like this made her sheathe even tighter and he grunted his enjoyment as he began to push inside of her, forcing her tight hole to open and accept his shaft. The rubbing friction felt heavenly and she squirmed, clutching at his arm as he resumed playing with her breast and nipple.

"So beautiful..." he moaned into her ear. "You feel so good... so hot and tight.... fuck Bridget..."

The growling low voice in her ear seemed to reverberate straight down her spine, his crude words only arousing her further as she tightened around his thrusting cock. One of his hands grasped hers, pulling it away from the hand on her breast and pushing it down between her legs. She gasped as he laid his hand over hers, directing its movements as he pushed her fingers between her legs, parting them so that she had two fingers on either side of where his shaft was splitting her open. She moaned at the erotic feeling of his cock sliding between her fingers, coating them with her wetness, before plunging into her body. Garrett moved her fingers back and forth, forcing her to rub her hand against her most sensitive bits, making her touch his plunging rod as it moved inside of her.

The sensation of him slipping between her fingers and deep into her quivering channel was intensely pleasurable, made even more so by the way her sensitive flesh pushed against her hand. She could feel the slick little pearl that gave her so pleasure, plumply pressing against her hand as she rocked back and forth on Garrett's rod.

"That's it," he growled, nipping at the sensitive flesh along her neck with his teeth. Bridget cried out and writhed for him, her insides tightening around the invading spear and wringing even more pleasure from both of them. The storm building in her core was swirling now, her loins tightening with readiness for the eventual explosion. "Feel me fucking you..."

His hand forced her to rub herself harder, her fingers making wet squishy noises as he masturbated her, his cock moving harder and faster against her fingers and into her shuddering body. Bridget could feel every inch of him as he thrust forcefully, obviously enjoying her tightness, her clenching muscles and the soft moans she made as she allowed him to manipulate her to their mutual pleasure.

"Garrett..." she whimpered, the tension inside of her becoming almost unbearable, her tunnel squeezing his cock as she squirmed back against him, so, so close to release.

"Yeeeeeeessssssssss," he hissed out and his teeth caught her earlobe, sucking the tender flesh into his mouth as his hand pressed down hard on hers, sending her palm into a circular motion as it pressed down on the engorged nubbin at the apex of her core. Bridget screamed his name as the storm swept over her, lightening shattering through her most sensitive parts as heat and wet and thunder rolled over her again and again. In the midst of her climax she was barely aware of Garrett's arms tightening around her, holding her fast against him as he moved more forcefully against her from behind, her hand still wedged between her thighs.

She wailed with the intense passion as his steel-hard cock filled her, so hard she could almost feel her insides bruising from his rampant thrusts. It hurt in the most wonderful way, spurring her climax to further heights as the mix of pain and pleasure that she had become so accustomed to swirled wildly in her body. The pleasure was so exquisitely intense that it was become almost painful and she tried to move her hand away from her throbbing pearl, but Garrett's strong fingers prevented her, rubbing her harder and faster, drawing out her orgasm to the point where she screamed her plea for him to stop. Every part of her body throbbed in sympathy as he forced his way inside of her one last time, the pulsing rhythm of his spurting cock matching her body's convulsions as her cunt sucked at him.

Throughout it all he ignored her pleas for mercy, her forced masturbation so wonderfully overwhelming that she thought she might faint, tears trickling down her cheeks as her overstimulated tissues pulsed against her fingers. It was torture, it was bliss, and she thought she might go mad from it.

The hard tension of Garrett's body relaxed and so did the pressure on her hand. Bridget sobbed with relief as he allowed the movements of her hand to slow and then stop, her involuntary shudders a testament to the incredible release he'd just given her. Inside of her she could feel his cock shrinking, withdrawing naturally from her body. He kissed the back of her neck, breathing heavily in the aftermath of his own climax.

"Good girl," he said, which stirred both annoyance and secret gratification within her. But she was too tired to protest. The extended climax at amounted to sensual torture by the end and she didn't think she could take it if he tried to do anything more to her right now. Fortunately he seemed to just want to hold her.

Slowly the world came back into focus and she could hear Patrick moving around outside the tent, talking to the Princess. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but by the sneering tone in his voice she wasn't sure that she wanted to either. Garrett murmured soft compliments in her ear, drowning out the sound of the other man, and she snuggled back against his hard body. Now that her passion was spent, she was starting to feel rather drowsy.

Garrett tensed and whispered in her ear. "Stay here. Don't make any noise if you can help it."

Even as he stood, he pulled a blanket over her before striding quickly outside, lacing up the front of his breeches as he went. Bridget stared after his broad naked back, suddenly anxious.

"Didn't think you had it in you," Patrick said, his voice close and loud. She realized that Garrett must have heard the other man coming closer and had wanted to head him off. Why, she wondered.

"You don't know a lot of things about me," Garrett said. Even though his voice was mild there was a slight hint of threat in his voice, enough to send a small shiver down her spine. The tension between the two men was rapidly rising, especially without the buffer of their comrades. She'd never thought she'd be sad to see Samuel and Blaine go, but she was just starting to understand how the other two men had helped keep the peace in camp, providing a distraction.

Now she was torn on the horns of a dilemma. Obviously Garrett didn't want her distracting Patrick from him, and she could only imagine what she would have to do to provide a buffer, but she didn't want them fighting either. If Patrick won then there was no more protection for her.

"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, to rest, and to think. He'd 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 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 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 clothe 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 handsy, 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 skirts 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?"

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