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 8: The Lady’s Sweet Intelligence, By Mia Sumner

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.

Ysalde wrapped her legs around the woman, pulling her closer. Yes, it could wait a little while. This one still had a lot to learn, but she and her tongue were eager. It was tempting to just enjoy an orgasm from the silly girl, but no, she needed to bind this one a little tighter to her. She savored the growing sensations for a few moments longer, before ever so gently pushing the woman away and guiding her to her feet. Just looking at the woman’s flushed face, tousled hair, and bright eyes sent a rush of excitement through Ysalde. This one was a luscious fruit just waiting to be plucked. She leaned in for a languorous kiss, tasting herself on the woman’s lips as her tongue darted between them. The woman pressed herself against her, but Ysalde pulled away, her hands roving over that ripe body.

“Another time my dear.” She cooed softly, darting in for another gentle kiss. “Soon we will find time to… be together.” The woman nodded, a faintly dazed look on her face. “Now, you must not be late for your husband. He is not a patient man.”. The woman whimpered softly, lingering close for a moment as though she could prolong the kiss.

Ysalde watched the flushed and disheveled woman make a hurried exit from the room with barely concealed amusement. So eager, so frustrated, that one would look for any excuse to visit again as soon as possible, no doubt bringing another tidbit of information to share. Sometimes this work was almost too easy but so satisfying.

Rising to her feet, Ysalde walked over to the writing desk and sat down behind it. She glanced at the quill and paper, laid out neat and ordered on the desk. A moment’s hesitation and she pulled the desk drawer open, her hand reaching in to wrap around the polished marble of her toy.

With an efficient movement, she took it and moved her hand underneath her skirts. The contrast of the cool stone against her already heated pussy lips sent a shiver through her body. The marble toy, polished to perfection, slid inside her easily and she bit her lip, controlling any noise.

This Wealdstone news troubled her, but she couldn’t quite put the pieces together… yet. Her hand moved faster, pushing the toy in and out her slick, hungry lips. The only sign, if there were anyone to see, her chest rising and falling faster. Who did she have in the area who could find out more?

Her free hand pressed, palm down, against the wooden desk, her pussy clenching on the now warm stone between her legs. This was not, random banditry, something was stirring on the border. The slightest flush on her face, a single bead of sweat on her temple. The toy plunged in and out, faster, and faster, bringing her to the brink.

The pattern said something organized, something that travels at night, something that left no survivors and no salvage. She shuddered, her whole body stiffening, letting out one strangled gasp as the orgasm crashed through her, wave upon wave. Then slowly, relaxed, slumping against the back of the chair. Removing the toy, she licked it once, then placed it back in the drawer, closing it with a firm thud.

Sitting up, Ysalde straightened her dress and reached for the quill, writing quickly and then sealing the note.

Do not stop there

One more door opens

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