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Aglovale's bedroom hit the perfect medium between ostentatious and luxurious. Djeeta felt more comfortable simply seeing the bed Aglovale brought her to, but when he pushed on top of it and pressed her body down against the mattress so firmly, she wasn't sure if she simply melting out of overwhelming arousal, or melting into the greatest mattress she had ever laid upon. His blond locks hung over his face and on top of hers, his lips more ferocious than they had been in seeking hers all through dinner, and she'd had more tastes of his lips than she'd had of the nice wine that Tor poured them. Djeeta could not ignore that she was being bedded tonight by the Lord of Wales, and he had seemingly built the entire night around insisting that reality upon her.
Somewhere in the midst of it, her dress came off of her. She wasn't sure where. She didn't know where it went, and as Aglovale's focus upon the scant clothing she still wore wound her up, she was far less concerned with finding her dress. Not when his eyes stared upon her with such piercing intent. He was lower now. His lips were upon her thigh. When had he gotten there? Everything felt so dizzy that Djeeta wasn't sure if she was losing focus or simply weaving in and out of emotions she was having trouble registering. His teeth grazed her thigh. It didn't go much further than the tease, but he stared at her like he wanted to, and as her chest tightened and she sucked her nervous breaths down, she felt like she wanted him to.
She didn't say as much. Especially because Aglovale's fingers in her panties finally eased them down with a fluid motion and a grace that had her legs rising slightly as if he was silently beckoning them to. Aglovale had guided everything about the night thus far, and now, in the bedroom, that wasn't going to change. He had her eating out of the palm of his hand, and as his head sank low, he proved it by eating her out in turn. The noises she made were downright embarrassing for how hotly they came out. For how soft they sounded. Her voice trembled and took flight with airy excitement, shoulders bunching up into her neck. He held her thighs open, and when his touch slipped, they pressed against the side of his head.
Did he want her to buck against him? She was. Her delirium wasn't getting any gentler. His tongue and his fingers were far too direct for that. A hand clenched against her ass and pulled her up tighter against him. Her desperation wasn't enough for his tastes. Aglovale had not arranged a night laid on so thick so that he couldn't hear her pleading with him to touch her. His tongue's motions were precise and driven by the singular intent of making her bend for him. Djeeta was strong. He respected that. But tonight, she'd show a different kind of vulnerability for him, and he craved it as badly as she craved him fucking her senseless. She'd just be the one to vocalize those desires.
"Agl--," she whined, voice skipping up in to a high gasp before she could finish. Every flirtatious almost-night together that they had shared did not leave her as desperate now as certainty did. Her hands fumbled about, one gripping the sheets and another seizing the headboard, banging about against it as she tried to find her grip. Her thighs found theirs, pressing against his head, holding him in place even though she was certain that only a gentle prod against her knees would have sent them snapping open again. He didn't even need a word, although any word he spoke would have reduced her legs to jelly just as quickly. Nobody else could have wielded a power quite like this over her, and she couldn't have wanted another to.
In all the delirium of him devouring her, she hadn't paid much mind to the one strange thing about the night. Tor. He stood in the room, not too close to the bed, but always just there if needed. A dutiful servant standing fully clothed as his Lord devoured the pretty girl he had been wooing all night, one arm presented forward and a towel hanging over it. His eyes seemed respectful, but Djeeta saw them stray. Again and again, his focus wavered and his eyes dipped down onto the sight of Aglovale eating her out. Her loudest moans challenged his posture a little bit. Not enough to be noticeable unless she was looking for it, but she was looking now. But he wouldn't meet her eyes. Was it duty? Shame? Respect? She didn't know for sure, but as Aglovale's tongue continued its reckless magic, she was lost.
And then the magic stopped. At least, that particular spell did. As long as she lay in this bed and felt at his mercy, Djeeta wasn't sure the magic could stop fully. His hands gripped her, and this time she understood all the motions involved, but still wasn't sure exactly how she ended up on her hands and knees. He was behind her, his cock grazing against her entrance, and rather than try to sort out how he was so easily able to make her bend to his will, all that she could really think about was why he had positioned her to face toward Tor, whose eyes now couldn't help but meet hers as he watched his Lord fuck her. He stood in silence, watching, doing nothing, simply attending to his Lord and offering him a towel when all was done. He did everything he could to pretend he wasn't moved by it, but she could see the way his eyes darted, and more importantly, she could see his arousal straining against his clothes.
In a night where pleasure and surreality mixed together into a drink more intoxicating than anything in the wine cellar, nothing perplexed Djeeta more than the strangeness of Tor's presence and open voyeurism. But few things turned her on more, and the list of pleasures that claimed her that night ran too long to write down.