Amy C at Romance Book Wyrm and Dottie atTink’s Place have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate – you publish your Fiction Flash on Friday – 350 words, give or take. Below you can find the picture posted last Monday:
Mark went to his quarters as he was told but with a heavy heart. There was no point waiting behind closed door for a stupid girl who clearly didn’t want either his help or his advice, no point whatsoever…wine made it a bit easier too but still he was feeling deeply uneasy about the whole affair. In the morning he heard on the grapevine really bad news: Lilian was nowhere to be found. She didn’t sleep in her bed, she didn’t attend breakfast, nobody has seen her since yesterday. At noon the search turned into a frenzy. Mark finally plucked up the courage, went to the secret library and started shouting Lilian’s name and pounding on the door with his fists. Nobody answered and no sound could be heard apart from the frantic beat of his heart. Without picking the lock again he knew something had gone terribly wrong and he had just one option left – inform Lord Dreane, Lilian’s father, the owner of that weird and dangerous place.
Mark got the address of Lord Dreane’s friend from the butler. He had to reveal a part of his story in the process but, taking into account the panic concerning the fate of Lilian, everything went relatively quickly. Nobody would dare ask too many question and delay the rescue of little Miss. The butler agreed curtly that Lord Dreane was their only and best chance. A young, fast mare was given to Mark in order to get to his lordship as soon as possible. The mare did a wondrous job – she covered the distance like a wind and in less than three hours Mark was knocking at the door of Mr. Sweeney’s estate, enquiring about his master.
The door was answered not by a servant but by a fine lady; seeing her Mark was left speechless. She was rather tall and curvaceous, she wore her long hair loose and her dress was, as far as he could judge such things, expensive if not downright showy – very low cut at the front, dark red or black, it was difficult to say in the twilight of the hall. Mark had a distinct feeling that the lady exposed rather too much of her breasts so he kept his eyes demurely on the floor, just sneaking a peek now and then. Not that the view wasn’t pleasant, because it undoubtedly was, but he had other worries right now on his mind and he didn’t want to get distracted.
” Excuse me my ladyship for this intrusion but I am looking for…”
“What’s your name?”
Her voice was husky and low but very melodious in a rather dreamy way. A voice to sing you a lullaby or to tell you a story before your sleep…in short a bedroom voice. Mark made an effort to focus again on his current predicament.
“My name is Mark, my lady, and I was sent with the message for Lord Dreane concerning…”
“How old are you?”
There was something wrong but he couldn’t put a finger on it – that damned dreamy voice was distracting him very efficiently, making him want to close his eyes, to float off, to…he clenched his fists so tightly that he punctured flesh with his own nails, drawing blood. Pain helped to return to reality, though.
“I am twenty-four my lady and I wonder whether you could alert Lord Dreane to the fact that…”
“Twenty-four. What a nice age to be. Give me your hand, Mark, and worry naught, Lord Dreane will hear your message soon. I will take you to him in a moment.”
Before he knew how to react she was holding his hand and, as soon as they touched, he stopped worrying or in fact thinking about anything at all. All he could see was this beautiful lady, smiling at him, carressing his hand intimately with her thumb. How could he missed the fact that she was so enticingly scrumptious? All he wanted to do was to gaze longingly at her full, milky-white breasts, exposed just for him, listen to her voice…
” Oh dear, look my lad, you injured yourself”, she breathed and then raised his hand, as if she wanted to kiss it, and started licking the bloody crescent marks his nails had left. Mark closed his eyes and gasped with pleasure although licking turned quickly into sucking and biting, making his injuries even larger and more bloody. He didn’t mind. He came closer to her splendid bosom not even remembering how he moved his feet. The scent of her made him dizzy – she smelled of vanilla and chocolate, mead and roses, a warm autumn evening and heather, a campfire under stars and sweet summer wine…She let his hand drop.
“Let me kiss you a welcome, Mark,” she whispered in his ear.
“What a great idea” , he murmured dreamily, feeling her pressed into his body, her lips already caressing one side of his neck. He embraced her with his arms, keeping her head as she positioned it, feeling a rush of hot excitement as she nuzzled him and then broke his skin with her teeth. He was so pleased, so happy that he never noticed when he drowned into soft, velvety darkness and saw no more.