Chapter 8
The problem arose on the second night of their journey.
Tabby, ever slippery as those eels she liked to eat, had yet again slid from her shared room — with exhausted Mrs. Harfagre none the wiser.
Following several minutes of frantic kissing and the near rending of good tailoring, Edward and Tabby were skin to skin and desperate to fuck after a long day of merely sending heated glances at each other across the carriage.
It was when he reached for the soaking French letter that tragedy struck.
Edward had been rinsing the letter after each fuck so it could be ready for battle, but this time he pulled a shredded mess from the water. The ties and seams appeared to have given way after so much hard use.
Tabby had been on the bed, stroking her kitty in that tentative way that never failed to set his blood rushing. She watched him try to tie the damn thing on.
“Ah, fuck,” he said, peeling the well-used sheath from his ready cock.
“Do you need to soak another?” she asked, her eyes drooping when she slid a finger into her audibly wet channel. His balls drew up at the sound. Gesù.
“Don’t have one,” he said, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “And I’m not about to ask the innkeeper. I’ll just have to lick you until you’re satisfied.”
Tabby squealed as he moved between her legs and rushed to taste her sweet little cunt. But she had something else in mind.
“What do people do when they don’t have letters?” she asked, the front of his hair in hand.
“They make babies,” he growled, and set about sucking her nub.
“But not every time?” she asked, her voice rising hopefully.
Edward’s heart dropped to his knees, such was the roaring need that overwhelmed him. What was she saying? Did she have any idea how his cock would respond to sliding into her channel, bare skin against bare skin?
All with the possibility of something going wrong and his balls firing too soon.
He crawled up her body, needing to see her as they negotiated this riskiest of maneuvers.
“You want this cock inside your cunny? Nothing between us?” he asked, all thought of being a proper swain gone from his mind.
“Put it in,” she said, her hand trailing down his abdomen.
Edward felt himself jerk at the sound of her voice saying those words, and he took his shaft in hand to prevent it from ending up inside her nether lips. Blasted cock, always up to something.
“I don’t want to risk you, darling,” he said against her ear as he settled his cockhead at her tight entrance.
It was heaven to be cradled by her wet, swollen little lips and feel her hole flexing right there as he grappled with the temptation to fuck his beloved raw.
He’d stuck his bare cock into women so many times before. Why, it was his vocation, his celebrated breeding business, to stick his cock in women and fill them with seed.
But this was different. So very different, he thought as his cock slid into the start of Tabby’s channel, which threatened to suck him inside.
“I feel you,” she said, her hips rocking in the way they always did when she longed to be filled.
“I shouldn’t,” he said, trying once more to resist temptation.
“But other men will,” she said, her voice too sweet to actually be innocent of machinations. Tabby would earn herself a paddling yet for this!
“What other men?” said Edward, catching her under the knee and opening her cunny to his gaze. She was glossy and pink, spreading around his shaft as he struggled to stay mostly outside of her body.
“Well, Molly introduced me to Lord Peter Sidwin at the Buckskin Breechess.”
“Sidwin!” roared Edward, mindlessly sliding deeper on the power of his anger alone.
“Yes, Edward,” she said while wearing a smile rather resembling that of a pleased cat. “I think he might wish to spend time with me. Am I ready for clients yet?”
“You are most certainly not!”
“Oh, but Lord Peter—”
“I don’t want to hear a demmed thing about him,” said Edward, feeling possessive and hot and altogether too randy to have his whole bare cock in her channel.
He should give in to her raillery, teach his little minx a lesson about not winding him up and teasing him about other men. Especially not Sidwin!
What would happen to her utterly incomprehensible plan to become a courtesan if he were to put a baby in her belly tonight as they played this dangerous game? Edward’s breathing slowed as he considered it.
She wouldn’t realize his trickery. Tabby was a smart little thing, but he could pretend to be so overcome that he unleashed his seed early.
He’d done it a few times for show in the course of breedings, at the request of ladies who wished to imagine themselves masters of Dick Stone’s cock, and it had been received to great effect.
Tabby would believe him and not think to worry until she couldn’t keep a meat pie down and her belly swelled.
Edward couldn’t do that to her, his unexpected love, not when she trusted him so implicitly.
“You could give me just the tip?” she asked hopefully, wiggling to take his cock further inside.
Well, fuck his good intentions.
“You want the tip? But I already gave you that,” he said, watching as he slowly drew his cockhead out.
They both groaned.
“Again,” she implored.
He rocked the head in again and withdrew.
“Let me feel it, all the way inside. Then you can take it out.”
Edward paused, struggling to think. “You’ll need to remain still, Tabby. My control is a taut thread, and if your cunny sucks me or your beautiful body moves, I can’t master myself.”
“Do it.”
Edward pressed in further. “You know what I’m trying to say? If you aren’t perfectly still, I’ll flood your womb with seed and quite possibly get a baby on you.”
Tabby’s eyes were closed, and a smile graced her lips, as if the bliss of coupling with nothing between them had swept her away too.
“Don’t you fuck women without sheaths all the time, Dick Stone?” she murmured while clutching the bedclothes to remain stationary.
Did he fuck those women as their stud? Certainly. Did he take a woman he loved? A woman who had moved his heart and cock?
That was exclusive to her, his Tabitha. He stroked in and out, willing his balls to hold back so they could enjoy this longer.
But of course, his body had been trained for breeding beautiful women, and his cock was primed to fire within the most beautiful woman of his acquaintance.
As he tried to pull himself from Tabby’s clasp — with great reluctance — he had another of his cock-based realizations: he didn’t want to breed Tabitha to keep her from other men.
Well, yes, he did. But it wasn’t the only reason.
“Edward,” she said, reaching for him as she always did now, their bodies entwined in more than one way. He slid his hand around hers and let it rest against the belly he longed to fill.
When her whimpers grew more desperate, he knew he should withdraw and send her over the peaks of pleasure with his fingers or tongue. Yet he stayed within, slowing his motions so he could control his cods and enjoy just a few moments longer in her wet, tight heat.
“You could…”
“What’s that, Tabby?” he asked, working his cock over the front wall of her cunny in that way she liked.
“Just this time, you could…”
Edward squeezed the base of his cock, willing his seed to stay pent up. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her, breed her, his little love, and entwine their lives forever by making a baby.
But he loved her too much to set aside her wishes selfishly.
True, her wishes were about as sensible as the street plan in the slums where she used to roam, but that didn’t mean he — with his superior experience and control — could take seriously her lust-drunk statements.
Why, she was under one of the great cocksmen of the age!
“Just this time, you could fill me, Edward,” she said, squeezing his hand at the same time her cunny relentlessly gripped his cock.
He barely made it out of her clasp before he was spraying his seed on the inn’s sheets. His cock jerked on and on as he emptied his balls endlessly.
Tabby watched him spew the spend that could have gotten her with child, her little fingers strumming frantically at her nub until she arched back into the pillow with a gasp and gave a pained moan.
As he settled behind her on the narrow bed, Edward considered what he could say that wouldn’t give away the state of his mind.
“The pork trotters were nice, weren’t they?” he asked, the ability to discuss something other than food completely beyond him.
“Very well cooked,” she said with a nod.
“I hope breakfast is just as nice.” Lud, strike him down! He was a conversational disaster!
“Maybe they’ll have rashers.”
“Don’t forget to sneak back into your room before Mrs. Harfagre wakes,” he said, kissing her on the neck and feeling his lids grow heavy. That had been a most profound draining of his sack.
“Don’t worry, Dick Stone, I’ll not let her find me here in your bed. You wouldn’t want to have to marry me.”
His eyes flew open in the dark as some tangled threads suddenly wove themselves into a very tempting bit of cloth.