Free One Final Night by Scarlett Rush Page A

narrower passage, but I cannot speak from experience. My fingers come off him, and I squeeze her tighter and hold her closer to me, to help her relax. I feel him push against her and she squeals and tenses again. When she is able to breathe once more she whispers into my ear, soft enough to ensure no one else will catch it. She says, ‘He is so deep inside me I can feel his balls at my wet cunt.’
    I’m not sure I’ve ever heard any female say such rude words, let alone one of her rank and standing. It is designed to make me shiver, and it does. I hold her tight to me and let the next waves of pleasure rock my body. He goes about his business and she grips me and grinds me and keeps the bliss ever there. She is so close it is almost like having him inside me. It is one of the most personal, intimate experiences I will ever have with any other human, and yet I cannot even see her face. I have never spoken to her. I don’t even know who she is, except in my head.
    Weight comes at the side of me; I am unceremoniously prodded in the cheek. I know instantly what is at my face. A gentleman has been waiting his turn and has now lost patience. I am in no mind to disappoint him. She moans above me. I reach up with my lips and connect with the rigid shaft. I work my way along, but find that she has already beaten me to the prize! I can do no more than run my tongue along his length and lick at the lips engulfing his end. The pace and power behind her suddenly increases. I feel the press of him on the backs of my hands as I keep her open against his deep, slapping thrusts. She is forced to let out a loud, open-mouthed moan. I seize the moment and grab the other prize, quickly closing my mouth over its end. She has already drawn a salty tang from his tip.
    There are grunts from the end of the bed and squeals from her, so I know he is unloading into that beautiful behind. She slumps against me and I hold her loosely because my concentration is now on other things. I don’t know if she climbs off willingly or is manhandled out of the way. I had wanted her against me for ever, but right now I can only think of drawing the sighs from the man in my mouth. She slides away into the darkness and out of my life. I have never spoken to her. She wouldn’t know me if she saw me and yet I have had held her bottom open to be ploughed so rudely and I’ve felt the rush of her bliss mixing with my own. She came to me so simply and now she is gone again. I know I will yearn for her on nights when I’m alone. This fractional meeting will have me dreaming of other chances to lie naked with the Comtesse, yet in truth I don’t even know that it was her. I’m beginning to see the folly of infatuation.
    Fortunately I don’t have to dwell on that now. Seconds ago she was all I wanted, but now I am hungry again. The prize has been eased from my mouth and its owner is pulling me up onto my knees. I embrace him and realise he is totally naked. He removes the tatters of my gown. We kiss and his hands go to my rump to hold me to him as we kiss. I adore the tender closeness his nakedness and my new freedom of movement brings. It doesn’t matter that I have never seen this man before in my life. I cling to him and kiss like he was my long-lost lover. He smells more natural than the others, with no fragrance to hide his scent. He is muscular though not too big, with smooth, tight skin. He is younger than some or all of those who have visited me.
    Instincts demand that I must form an image. I run my hands over him to ascertain clues. His hair is longer and fuller than those I remember from the crowd. The fact that he is naked means he is less worried about a quick return to them. He seems fit and athletic, yet he has bowed to seniority and waited his turn. Maybe he is some kind of d’Artagnan figure on the fringes of the regiment, waiting for his star to shine. More likely he is a servant. It doesn’t matter. I have the picture of him in my head now and he