076

076
Isolde
The feelings pounding through Isolde since she healed in the past few days had gone haywire. Every day she woke up, all she thought about was the lord.
His huge, magnificent frame would fill her mind, making her salivate. She thought about him every minute of the day. Dreamt about him even.
It was hard to stop.
Isolde had once rejected his proposal, but now she was the one targeting Draco. It wasn’t helping that she was in her heat.
It seemed now she was in her heat, Draco’s hotness added a notch. Like his hotness personified.
Isolde would sneak fleeting glances at him whenever he passed by, seemingly unaware of her scorching stares.
Was he really unaware of the way she was looking at him?
Isolde would bet her life that Draco could feel her gaze crawling and tickling his skin. It’s so hot and can’t be missed.
Maybe he just didn’t want to acknowledge her. That made Isolde cranky.
Gods be damned, she wanted Draco. She craved him like he was her lifeline.
Ugh! She grumbled inwardly, feeling the thundering pain in her lower abdomen. Her heat was arising. Firmer.
Isolde was wet and tingly.
“Ouch!” She yelped, kissing her teeth as the needle she was holding pricked the pad of her forefinger.
“Sister? What is wrong?” Lucinda bristled from where she was seated, needling the thick leather fabric in her hand. She was teaching Isolde all about cloth making. Isolde figured that would help drive her mind away from Draco, but it didn’t seem to be working.
“Ugh! This is shitty!” She groaned, puffing out frustrated breath at how wet and needy she felt at the moment.
Lucinda chuckled. “It isn’t. You just need to have patience, sister. I can’t do without needlework,” She pleasantly said, sparing Isolde a look.
An Itty-bitty stream of annoyance swept through her at her inability to harness her thoughts. Every crevice of her mind only pounded for him.
Her pussy squeezed out more juices of need as if to prove the point that Draco was what she needed currently.
She let out a groan and bounced to her feet, dropping the fabrics she held with a hiss.
“I don’t think I can do this!” She snapped, throwing her hands up. She strutted around, earning Lucinda’s gaze.
“Something wrong?” She asked Isolde.
Isolde’s cheeks had all blotched up from how unsettled she felt. She fanned herself, losing her breath.
“No! I’m perfectly fine!”
The female blinked once and again. She dropped the items she held, openly staring at Isolde. “You…don’t…seem fine….”
“Because I’m not! I can’t…oh, fuck,” She trailed off mid-sentence, biting into her lower lip as pain lanced through her mid-section.
She doubled over, cursing. Isolde perspired, swallowing thickly, and that alerted Lucinda.
“What’s going on?” She blurted, trying to help Isolde stand upright. “Are you…”
Lucinda couldn’t complete her sentence as Draco and Alfos strutted into the room they were in.
Isolde’s hair first prickled on her scalp, announcing his presence before she even heard his footfalls and another’s.
She straightened, her nose gulping in his unique scent.
“My lord,” Lucinda was the first to acknowledge their presence, sending sneaky desirous glances at Alfos.
Isolde bowed a little too begrudgingly. When she raised her head back, all she did was sexualize the lord.
Her eyes dipped over his pink, firm lips, the urge to ride her clit over those lips occupying her mind.
Gods, how soft could those curly raven hair be? What would his lips taste like?
No, Isolde. Get yourself together, she chided inwardly. Regardless, naughty images of her and Draco filled her mind.
I want to know how his weight could feel under me, she thought, biting into her lower lip as she drank Draco’s body in. Her heart dancing.
“Are you…okay?” Alfos’s words cut through her barrage of thoughts.
Gathering herself together, Isolde nodded. “Oh, me? Yes.” She rasped, clearly out of breath. “Why do you ask, beta?”
How Isolde would kill to hear Draco talk to her at the moment. Unfortunately, he only whisked a look her way and looked back at her sister.
“I thought I saw you panting and biting your lip,” Alfos added with a shrug, which caught Draco’s attention.
He sent fleeting glances at Isolde again, his chest puffing.
“Are you done making the clothes?” Draco chirped, directing the question at Lucinda. It was his way of changing the subject because he couldn’t afford to look at Isolde’s flushed face. It did things to him.
Thankfully, Lucinda cheerfully turned and lifted the clothing she was making.
“I’ve gone quite far, my lord. In a few more weeks, I should be done,” Her cheeks crinkled the harder she smiled. Her eyes touching Alfos where he stood.
“Great,” Draco chirped, his tone light. “I can’t wait to see the masterpiece it’ll be, Lucinda…”
“I’m more pleased to show it to you, my lord.” She rubbed her hands together, the sun filtering into the space struck her blonde hair, turning it into a golden hue.
“Hm. But any further help you’ll need, you should reach out to Alfos, and he’ll render it to you,”
“Aye, my lord,” She bowed, looking at Alfos through her lashes.
Both men exited the space. Draco didn’t spare a furtive look at Isolde, which made her grind her hands together.
The moment it dawned on Isolde they were out of earshot, she let out the moan she’d been clinging to.
Her underthings had become utterly soiled. She could now feel the slimy liquid dripping down her thighs.
“Are you in heat?” Lucinda leaned in closer and whispered under her breath.
She knew how severe the heat period usually was for Isolde. Especially when it was the full one. Hopefully, this wasn’t her complete heat.
Clenching her sister’s arm, Isolde rasped. “Oh, fuck, Lucy! I need a cock. I fucking need a cock….ouch!” She doubled over, choppy sobs wrenching from her guts.
“What do I do? Should I get you a man?” She asked Isolde, who shook her head vehemently.
“No…no…I know what to do…” She forced the words out, pushing to her feet.
Lucinda watched, her brows shooting into her hairline as she inspected Isolde.
“Stay here. I’ve got a plan,” She uttered to Lucinda, limping away from the space.
The only place Isolde could get an instrument sizeable enough to satisfy her hot craving was the luna training room.
She traced her steps there, closing the door. Her gaze swept over the space before she reached for the pleasure wand.
Her faltering steps led her to the sofa, and she took a seat, reclining her head back as she widened her legs and began to tease herself.
Juices gushed from her with every touch she rendered her womanhood.
All the while, images of Draco brimmed her vision.
“Oh, yes…yes…,” Her cries ripped through the air as Isolde slid the bulbous wand into her cunt…
TBC.