Making Amends - Sex Stories

Making Amends

... bedroom.

“If... if that is your wish, your eminence... Hyacin... I mean... I don't...” The blushing knight had to bite down on her tongue in order to stop herself stammering on further, her maiden's heart suddenly pounding away like the mightiest of war drums deep within her chest as the moment of truth drew near.

At her acquiescence, one of the baron's eyebrows lifted dramatically in what had to be his most splendid facsimile of surprise yet. The expression was so perfectly executed that Sienna once more caught herself starting to believe the man hadn't known exactly how their encounter would play out from the very moment of her arrival. One part of her was desperate for Hyacin to drop the charade at last and simply take what he was due so the entire ordeal could be over and done with. Another, admittedly smaller, part of her, though, was almost... grateful for the act. While the warrior in her held nothing but distaste for such games, she was also a blushing maiden being taken to bed for the first time. That side of her knew that even the slightest semblance of normalcy could only make her sacrifice more bearable.

One side of the ambassador's mouth curled upwards as he responded by giving a little twist of his head that Sienna supposed must have been an imperial gesture of some sort as it did naught but bewilder her. “Well, I shan't turn down whatever hospitality you see fit to provide, my dear. I trust, in that case, you won't object to my getting ...

... comfortable.”

Without waiting for an answer, Baron Hyacin once more turned idly away from his recent assailant to languidly stride in the direction of the nearby bed. His hands were shielded from Sienna's view, but judging by the way his shirt started falling loose it was no mystery what they were occupied with. A few seconds later that silken garment hung limp from the man's shoulders, a single roll of which sent it falling halfway down his back. What its absence revealed was nearly enough to make the onlooking maiden gasp. While the emissary could hardly be considered a match for the kind of brawny warriors whose bodies she routinely witnessed out of their shirts, there could be no denying that he was far closer to such a figure than he was to the flabby state which most of the leisurely creatures of this or that court tended to exhibit by his age.

More jarring by far than the diplomat's unexpectedly athletic body, however, were the trio of wicked scars running the length of his back. One long and bold, another to each side faint and disappearing towards each end, the three marks traced a path from just inside his right shoulderblade down and across his back all the way to the opposite hip. As their owner slowly pulled himself free of first one sleeve and then the other, Sienna couldn't help but wonder as to the origins of those vicious blemishes. Whether the man had seen combat after all, only narrowly escaped a bloodthirsty beast, or simply endured a particularly drastic accident ...