Dark Elven Desires Part 8: The Lady’s Sweet Intelligence

She rewards a desperate noble wife with dangerous intimacy. But every touch is calculated and the secrets she uncovers may ignite something far worse.

Part 7: The Lady’s Sweet Intelligence

Lady Ysalde leaned back on the gilt-edged, stuffed, red sofa, smiling softly, her eyes focused on the young wife of Alderman Crey. Sunlight streamed through the window behind her, lighting her long, dark hair. She didn’t move until the young, blonde, woman finished blurting out her news and paused, clearly waiting for praise. The young ones were so easy, always so eager to please. So desperate really for anyone to appreciate them that they’d happily share any information they learned.

Ysalde patted the sofa cushion next to her, indicating that the woman might sit with her, hear in the receiving room. “You’re such a dear one.” She leaned over and kissed the woman’s cheek, enjoying the immediate flushed reaction. “This information will be so helpful and your part in bringing it to me will not be forgotten. We don’t have long, but would you mind ever so much?”

The woman glanced nervously at the door but Ysalde encouraged her down onto her knees with her hand. “We will not be disturbed, my servants know that I enjoy some quiet time in the early afternoon.” she soothed, moving her legs apart so the woman had easy access.

It only took a little encouragement, this woman had been raised to be a people pleaser. First her family and then her husband, now Ysalde. She knelt easily enough, hesitating only briefly before leaning in, hands nervous and uncertain on Ysalde’s thighs. Ysalde tensed in anticipation as she felt the woman’s hot breath on her sensitive skin. Out of sight, her hand gripped the arm of the sofa as she kept her breathing steady. The woman’s tongue was clumsy but eager, finally finding a rhythm as she licked Ysalde’s pussy, face buried between her thighs. Ysalde shifted a little as the blonde’s tongue circled her clit. The woman’s small sounds, her increasing urgency and desire to succeed, all added to the heat building inside Ysalde’s core.

As the woman worked eagerly Ysalde idly considered the information that she had supplied. The nobles must have been suppressing news that caravans were going missing around Wealdstone, worried no doubt that they would look weak. It needed further investigation… later. The woman’s mouth had found a better angle and Ysalde’s grip tightened on the sofa arm.