A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone. I've been trying to offer thanks personally to all of you. To answer ZIAM's question: Please assume all of my characters are bi until shown to be otherwise. So, strap in for this next chappie. I really do hope you like it. Picking up where we left off.
"My Lady, the Physician Hershel sent me here," he says in way of an explanation, though it is misleading. "I was injured and he took care…"
She raises her hand to silence him, and gives him a questioning stare.
At this point in his mission, Rick has to play it safe. He knows nothing of the relationship between Her Ladyship and the Lord of the Citadel. He surmises he will need to see them together, alone. Being with Her Ladyship, belonging to her, means he just might be able to have that unfettered access to observe them.
She raises an eyebrow. She doesn't know if she should believe him. He is obviously Rick Grimes from her own lands. She recalls when he came to Court in her father's service many years ago. The Ladies of the Court took a liking to him. She did too, but she was much too young to learn of such things, merely a curious nineteen year old at the time. She recalled that he was a good fighter, and would often watch him when he fought competitively for her father, Lord Lucas.
"I am well aware of your situation," she says. "And they say you have amnesia. Is that so?"
"Yes, Ma'am," he offers, with his gaze averted. He fears if his eyes meet hers, she will see that he is being untrue. In the confines of her quarters, when it is just the two of them, Rick wants to be open to her, in every way. He can hardly explain this effect she has over him. He inhales discreetly, but deeply, and continues. "I don't remember much at all."
"That's too bad," she says, before standing again. "I bet you were an interesting man in your other life, weren't you?"
"I'm interesting now, My Lady," he dares to say.
"Yes," she replies with a smile. "I suppose you are."
…..
There is a small bathroom off to the side of Lady Michonne's personal quarters. The walls are light in color, and the heavy drapes look golden in hue. The room is lit by candles and smells of essential oils. Her Ladyship walks through the doorway and an unbound Rick follows after her. She watches as Attendants fill the bathtub with warm water and rose petals. The tub is white porcelain standing on golden lion's feet. It is a luxury that only the highest of Nobles would possess. Rick lifts his gaze to take it in a moment; Her Ladyship notices.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asks, as the Attendants scurry around. "It was a gift from His Lordship. Not the most immediate need in this world, but he does like to spoil me."
"You're worth it," Rick offers, surprising both himself, and his Lady. She holds back a smile.
"You're right about that," she says playfully, before dismissing the Attendants. She reaches a hand down to test the water. He watches as her slender fingers dance over the water's surface, brushing petals out of the way as she does so. She is so very elegant, and Rick is mesmerized by the small, inconsequential action. She turns to look at him. His eyes trail up her arm until they meet hers. She looks him up and down, biting her lip as she does. He waits eagerly, feeling his manhood twitch in his pants.
"Take off your clothing," she commands.
Rick does so immediately, remembering his training from years ago. He removes his shirt, first, before folding it neatly and placing it to the polished tile floor. Michonne smiles at his disciplined ways. Next, he steps out of his jeans, the same ones he arrived at the Citadel with, and folds them in the same manner as the shirt. He goes to remove his boxer shorts when she holds up her hand to stop him. He stands still as she steps closer and brings her fingertips to the waistband of his shorts. He steadies his breathing in anticipation while staring into her eyes.
She is unwavering and powerful, and he wants nothing more than to let her have her way with him. When she slips her hand inside of his shorts and touches his engorged cock, he holds his breath. She places her palm underneath his length and runs it back and forth slowly, not applying any pressure; not stroking him. Just pressing the soft skin of her palm to his thick, veiny shaft. It feels hot and heavy in her hand. She could very easily grip him tightly while jerking him until he comes, but she would rather tease Rick than let him find his release; at least for now.
He almost pouts when she withdraws her hand. With a smirk, Michonne step away and then turns her back on Rick. She glances over her shoulder at him and then says, "Undress me."
Without hesitation, he places his hands at her shoulders and draws the soft, smooth fabric back. His fingers lightly touch her skin as he removes the garment. He does not let it hit the floor as he unveils her statuesque form, instead, he folds it and drapes it neatly over his forearm and waits for his next instruction. Michonne is impressed with his discipline. She turns to face him, her glorious body on full display, and then brushes the back of her hand over the side of his face.
"Hang the robe, and then fetch my washcloth," she says, gesturing toward the vanity.
He does as she commands, placing the robe to a hook on the wall, and then bringing the small, square cloth to his Mistress. Rick ogles her and his erection grows harder, peeking from the opening in his shorts. He averts his gaze, and then holds out a hand for her to take. She does so, and then he helps her step into the bathtub. She slides into the warm, lavender-scented water, moaning as she does. He watches as she ties her hair up and then shifts forward a little.
"Wash me," she says, and Rick quickly squats down beside the tub.
He dips the cloth into the water, and then places it against her shoulder. He moves it around in a circular motion, before submerging it and repeating the action across her toned upper back.
"Hmmm. Keep doing that," says Lady Michonne.
He dips the cloth, and then wrings the water out on her back. The droplets run down her gloriously dark skin; she enjoys how it feels. Spurred on by her little moans of pleasure, he brings his free hand to her shoulder. He should not touch her without her permission, but she does not reprimand him, instead, she lets her head fall to the side while he massages close to her neck. All the while Rick wants to lick the droplets from her. He wants to kiss her all over. He wants to drown in her. He wants more from her, but is grateful to serve her like this for now, even if it is a means to an end.
He listens to the soft splashing that accompany her pleasured little whimpers as he runs the cloth down her arm. She is relaxed under his touch. He wonders if she is like this with all of their servants. He wonders if other men, apart from Lord John, are allowed to see her and touch her in this way. He finds an ire rising up inside; a jealousy, swirling in the pit of his stomach. He cannot stand the thought of another serving his Lady in this way. He is all too thankful for the privilege, so he forces the unwanted thoughts from his mind. He is there to complete a mission, not to jeopardize it by becoming obsessed with his Mistress; by coveting the wife of one Lord, and the daughter of another.
His train of thought is broken when Lady Michonne guides his empty hand to her chest. Instinctively, he squeezes her ample breast before causing her nipple to grow stiff. He can feel his cock dripping; he almost drops the washcloth when she covers his hand once more and guides it lower, into the water. Just then, there is a quick rapping at the door. Her Ladyship relinquishes her hold on Rick's hand, and then says, "Enter."
A tall, fair-haired girl comes through the door, carrying a tray of lotions. She does not make eye contact with Lady Michonne, but gives Rick a sympathetic look as she bustles by and places the lotions on the vanity. She offers her Mistress a nod and then leaves the same way she has entered, but does not close the door. Michonne looks to the open doorway, and is surprised to see Lord John standing there. He leans against the doorjamb and gives Rick an unimpressed glare.
"Commoner," he says to Rick. "Stand and leave us at once. Go back to the filth of your quarters."
Rick gets to his feet and scoops up his clothing; he uses the neatly folded garments to cover his protruding sex. He offers his Lord and Lady a nod, and then walks by John, who keeps his eyes locked on Michonne.
"My love," John starts. "I've had new lotions concocted for you. When you finish up here, come to my chambers."
"Yes, My Lord," she says, with a sweet smile that hides her irritation very well.
…..
After staying in the bath until the warm water turned cold, Michonne dresses with the help of an Attendant, and makes her way to her husband's quarters. She finds him drinking from a goblet of wine and staring out of the window. It is dark outside and she doubts he can see anything; she muses he must enjoy the void. He is almost always broody, and his mood is not different tonight.
"I thought you'd be in bed by now, My Lord," she says, announcing her arrival.
He finishes his drink, places the cup to the small table near the window, and then turns to admire her in the candlelight.
She sits down on his four poster bed, still dressed in the robe she was wearing when she let Rick watch her.
"Were you entertaining, my love?" he asks.
"I took a bath," she replies.
"That commoner," he says. "Was he your Attendant for this bath?"
"Yes," she answers.
Lord John disrobes until he is naked, before climbing into the bed behind Michonne. He shifts closely behind her, draws the red robe from off her shoulder and kisses the smooth skin there. She smells of lavender and tastes sweet like nectar. He bites her shoulder slightly, and then cups her breast. His hand moves slowly from her erect nipple to her flat stomach. He grips her tightly and draws her nearer to his body, before lying her down on her back. He opens her robe, exposing her freshly washed and oiled body. He leans over her and runs his callous fingers between her breasts and over her abdomen. He circles her navel, and then brushes against the small mound just below. She stares up at the ceiling and lets her body relax under his touch.
"He's a fighter, my love," says John, trailing his fingers lower until he reaches between her legs. "Not meant to tend to your grooming needs. We have handmaids for that."
Lord John shifts and hovers over Lady Michonne; he uses his knees to part her legs and is met with no resistance.
"You said he was mine," she counters, turning her head to look him in the eye. He sighs loudly, knowing there is nothing he can deny her; well, almost nothing. He then presses kisses to her collarbone and neck as he positions his erection at her entrance. Her sex is still wet from her previous liaison with the Tribute.
"I did," he replies, before kissing her lips. "And he is yours."
"But?" she asks, waiting to be penetrated by her Lord and husband.
"But," growls John as he inches himself inside of his beloved. "You're still mine."
…..
"Ahh," breathes Rick as he tugs at his impossibly hard dick in the darkness of the Pugilist Quarters. He lies on his back, hand inside of his shorts, and pulls at his stiff, throbbing sex. He muffles his moans as best he can while working his rough hand up and down his large, red cock. He pictures Lady Michonne's perfect body. He recalls how she shamelessly fingered herself in front of him. How she reduced him to a dripping, quivering mess, kneeling before her. He wishes he was kneeling before her right now, instead of stroking himself in the dark and only imagining Her.
"Fuck," he whispers to himself as he recalls the way her skin felt against his. He cups his glistening crown and rubs it hard and fast. His eyes roll shut as he strokes his length again and again, up and down, while picturing the Lady of the Citadel.
He closes his eyes tighter, working his hand faster as his chest rises and falls in rapid succession. Sweat beads at his temple, causing his curls to stick to his damp skin. He lets his head sink backwards, hanging over the edge of his cot, as he rubs his raw cock until he comes hard. A low growl escapes his lips as thick spurts of his white, hot seed shoot from his smooth tip. Some dribbles down his trembling prick; more lands on his firm abdomen. His hips buck, and his breathing is labored. He milks himself until he is finished and then wipes his hand against the coarse blanket that covers his cot. He uses his other hand to wipe the sweat from his brow as he licks his lips.
This is torture to him; wanting Her Ladyship so badly, but not being allowed to service her fully. He silently chides himself for his growing infatuation with her. He did not expect to find her in this place in such high standing. He did not expect to find her ruling the Citadel with such rigor. He hadn't really thought he would actually find her. But he did, and she is far from the young woman he remembers admiring from afar.
She is now a woman of power. A woman who knows what it is that she wants, and he knows that she wants him. That thought alone causes his cock to begin to stiffen once more. As he takes it in his hand again, he half-heartedly promises himself this will be the last time he lets the picture of her in his mind's eye distract him from his mission. After all, it is her father's money that lines his pocket, and her father's command that sent Rick to the Citadel.
He pushes fleeting thoughts of Lord Lucas away and focusses on Lady Michonne. For this brief moment in the dark, he will let his lust for her consume him, but in the morning, he must resume his mission. He must find a way to observe the Lord and Lady together. He must discern if she has stayed at the Citadel by choice, or if His Lordship has coerced her. What he needs to discover about their relationship will inform him of his next move. If she is being held against her will, she has not shown it to him. If she remained, of her own volition, at the Citadel after her residency as a Tribute, he will need to deliver that hard truth to his employer, her father. If she is being held captive, he will need to do what he has been paid to do: He must kill Lord John.
…..
Michonne's pussy begins to pulse as Lord John drives himself deeper between her folds. She wraps her legs tightly around his waist as he pounds her harder and harder, causing her to lose all composure.
"Oh, god," she cries out, as she digs her nails roughly into his shoulder blades, and drags them down his back, drawing blood. She tightens her walls around him and then comes hard for the first time in a long time. All the while, as her husband fucked her, Lady Michonne pictured Rick.