The Innocent by Posie Graeme-evans

this time the shriek was genuine, for the bite was hard; that true note of pain sent an exquisite ripple through him. He loved that feeling, utter domination—but then he couldn’t stop it, the explosive spasm and shiver. Always over too soon. He lay upon her panting, as she gently moved her hips back and forth, back and forth, against him as he gathered his breath.
    “What did you want to show me, master?” the girl said demurely. He grunted and slipped out of her, wiping himself on the tail of her gown as he did so. That annoyed her and she turned around sharply, though hoping that the disarray of her clothing, her naked lower body and tumbled hair were still provocative to him.
    “Cover yourself, girl.” The testiness in his voice alarmed her. She’d have to be extra clever now.
    “Ah, come back to me, Master Piers—we have a little time now, the feast will go on for hours yet.”
    And she held out her arms to him winsomely, but noted with dismay that he had fully laced himself up and was smoothing his tight cotehardie down with an impatient look on his face.
    “My father requires my presence—and yours, Aveline, as well you know. Come now, we will find time to speak later—tonight.” He smiled at her slightly as he emphasized the word “speak.”
    “I am glad of that, Master Piers, because I have much to talk to you about also.”
    She was relieved by his smile and bared her teeth alluringly, running her red tongue over her lips to make them glisten, but it was hard to make her words sound graceful and pleasant. She was angry that the byplay between them meant her news would have to wait, but she knew there was no point in pushing him.
    Perhaps there would be more time later—and they could spend some part of the night together, in his bed, rather than another snatched moment such as this. She would have to be careful if she was to get what she wanted from him.
    He strode to the door and turned to look back at her. She did make a winsome picture as she languorously laced her breasts back into her gown, a faint smile on her face. Yes, it would be entertaining to have them both for a time, Aveline and Anne. Anne, a virgin, would not know how to accommodate him initially—though it would please him to teach her—but meanwhile this one had real skill and could always provoke his lust, even if he forgot her almost completely between the times he had her. He could smell her on his fingers and that was exciting. Amazing—he could feel himself stir again.
    He shook his head. “Mind you, look sharp now. Your mistress will wonder at your absence for so long.”
    The slight smile he directed at her as he pulled the door open made her smile even more widely back at him. Then he was gone, and she stopped smiling. Yes, she needed some real time with him—just a few hours—and she would find a way to get him to give her pleasure, too, this next time. And after that, well, then she would tell him.
    Even though he had been gone less than fifteen minutes, Piers returned to find the banqueting hall becoming rowdier by the moment. Perhaps it was his father’s excellent wine, but wherever he looked there were red faces around the hall, and even those sitting at the top table were joining in, taking their lead from Edward. His father frowned when he saw him and beckoned sharply. Piers put a suitably dutiful expression on his face and hurried up to the top table, gracefully sinking down on one knee before his father and Edward.
    “Piers, my scapegrace son, Your Majesty.”
    “New coat, I see, young man.”
    Piers flushed but managed to hide his annoyance. “Sire, all is made new by the radiance of your presence in my father’s house.”
    The king laughed warmly. “Well, Master Mathew, you are lucky in your household—and the grace of your son.” Waving a chicken bone with practiced aplomb, he signaled that Piers might retire.
    Piers backed away while bowing deeply, careful not to trip on this new set of trailing