Chapter 9
Marianne had been transported into raptures at the gauzy fabric, flowers, ribbons, and — most of all — the delicate matching slippers when Frederick had sent a dress for her to wear this evening.
Now, as she tore down a garden path leading into the forest of the park, she cursed Frederick for gifting her such impractical shoes. They slipped even on the paving stones of the walkway. When she encountered a place with moss, she slid, only regaining her balance at the last moment.
It made her flight into the dark night harrowing in ways she hadn’t expected. The danger was real. She slowed her pace, not wanting to break her neck because of a game.
And then, as she dashed to the treeline, she thought she saw movement. Torches had been lit in the garden, illuminating only the first row of trees.
As with the townhouse where she and Frederick had unexpectedly first seen each other, the treetops were spindly. But these living specimens now sprouted green shoots and buds, preparing to burst into their summer abundance.
Below them, Marianne shivered. She’d failed to grab a wrap and had to rub her exposed forearms while running forward.
And then she spotted something again, and it wasn’t just the awakening trees. To her right, she saw antlers. The light’s angle made the eye sockets of the familiar mask from the Grand Bucks revelries appear empty.
She ran towards him, thrilled that their game had come to a safe and quick conclusion. But as she drew near, everything seemed wrong. This man, nearly a giant, would even tower over Frederick.
“You’re not!” she gasped, taking in this interloper. Why, it must be one of their guests, a friend from the Bucks. But she’d set out to find Frederick, not revel with a group of men!
Marianne raced off in the other direction, hearing branches snap behind her as the Buck gave chase.
Her heart beat faster, fear and arousal flooding her system and giving her legs a stamina she’d imagined impossible.
Up ahead, she thought she saw another set of antlers. But now she was wary, skittish.
“Frederick!” she cried.
The mask swung up, focusing on her terrified face and stilling until the intensity of the gaze from those darkened eyeholes sent her fleeing deeper into the forest. Frederick wouldn’t be so quiet. He’d signal that he was within; she knew he would!
Further and further, she fled, stumbling over low branches and tearing the hem of her dress as it tangled on brambles.
At one harrowing moment, a trailing ribbon caught on a tree, and the bodice of her dress tore as she yanked herself free.
With one hand covering her chest and skirts in the other, she minced forward into the darkness.
***
Within the darkest part of the park, he awaited her, his beautiful bride.
She was lovely as she sought to maintain a dignified hold on her gown, unaware that it was designed to shred at the slightest tug. Regardless of how carefully she moved, she would eventually expose herself to him.
He stood overlooking her struggle through the trees, his mask already on but his nude body exposed to the chill of the night. He needed to be ready to take her. To mount her. To fuck his little fox into submission and leave her dripping with his seed.
It was no mistake that the Grand Bucks wore stag masks; there was something within each of them that called back to an animalistic past. A time when the chase was the only mating dance before a rough and thorough consummation. A claiming.
Frederick stroked his cock, heavy and hot despite the spring weather, and rubbed the slick fluid leaking from his slit over his shaft. He needed to get ready for her.
If he knew his Marianne, she’d be wet from her flight into the forest. But she was still so small and inexperienced, while he was considered quite large. He must claim his bride roughly while not harming her.
Frederick saw her approach. She tripped, and her hand fell away from her bodice, revealing the curve of one naked breast. She’d followed his orders and left off her bustle and corset tonight. He’d make quick work of unwrapping his prize and freeing her body.
He’d set her free. She was so close. With just a few more steps, she would be under his control.
***
At a clearing, Marianne paused. The light from the torches had long ceased to illuminate the forest, and she was terrified of walking too far and ending up lost.
What would happen if she wandered outside of the bounds of their game and Frederick and his friends needed to find clothing, their servants, and his hunting dogs to track her down? Meanwhile, she’d be shivering, various kinds of wet, and fearful all the while.
She laughed, imagining her shock if she was expecting a rough claiming by her husband — only to be set upon by a worried footman charged with finding the new duchess.
And then she heard a snap that made her skin crawl. A crack, as if a branch had broken under someone’s foot.
Another.
“Frederick?” she called into the dark, terrified of their game and simultaneously aroused.
Marianne spun about, looking for the source of the noise. At first, she saw nothing, just darkness. She wondered if she’d suddenly gone blind.
And then her eyes adjusted and heartbeats slowed. From across the clearing, a man advanced on her. A man wearing naught but a stag mask.
“You should really wear boots here,” she said to him, trying for a light and playful tone but speaking with a wobble in her voice.
He said nothing, merely came forward as if an automaton set on a course for her.
“The weather is quite pleasant for spring,” she said, trailing off when he was steps away. She could see his body, large and firm, and his cock hanging between his legs. The antlers of his mask seemed to blend in with the treetops as if he, too, was an oak, destined to remain in this park forever.
Despite her fear, Marianne stayed still. She needed to know something before their game could begin.
“Are you my lord husband?” she asked in a whisper, searching the mask for signs Frederick was inside.
He raised the papier-maché slowly to reveal his face to her. Those beautiful lips, that strong nose, and his glittering eyes focused on her so intently. It was him. This was real.
And now their game could truly begin.
***
When Marianne turned on her heel and raced away from him, deeper into the forest, Frederick felt his heart leap unexpectedly.
Oh, he wanted to fuck her most thoroughly, but it was her willingness to play with him and indulge their shared primal pleasures that gave him the greatest satisfaction. She was his match, his duchess in every way.
She wasn’t wrong about the need for shoes here; he’d pay the price for the stones and branches underfoot as he chased his bride in her streaming white gown. Yet the scrapes only strengthened his resolve to give her some delicious pain so they might lick their wounds together before making more.
His cock bobbed between his thighs, slapping at one side then the other until it grew hard from the sensation and adrenaline from the chase. He hoped she was wet and ready; he wouldn’t be able to resist taking her roughly the moment she was under his control.
And then his world went sideways: she was glancing back when she slipped and went crashing to the ground.
***
The air disappeared from Marianne’s lungs before she knew what had happened. Trying to breathe again, she sprawled on the dirt with a bunch of leaves in her hands.
She saw Frederick rip the mask from his face and crouch beside her, his expression wild as he felt all over her prone form to check for injuries.
“Are you well?”
At last, she could draw a breath. She nodded, feeling her body come alive again as she drew in great gulps of air.
He gathered her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. “God, Marianne.”
His chest was warm, smelling lightly of his sweat and traces of the cologne he favored. The feel of his skin made her belly flip as she recalled the purpose of this evening’s chase.
She brought a hand to his hair, always so precisely arranged, but now disheveled from his mask and their game. It was soft and thick, the perfect length for tugging so she might draw him near for a kiss.
When they parted, Frederick was also out of breath. “Marianne…”
The notes of longing and desire in his voice set her body aflame. She laid a hand on his abdomen and then slid it down and down until she felt the wiry hair that surrounded his cock.
He was hard now, fully susceptible to his wife’s comely charms despite his fear just minutes before. She brushed her hands on her ruined dress and then brought them to his straining prick, earning her a groan.
“You’ve just suffered an injury.”
It was a whine, a plea. He might dominate her in the forest, but she was not without her own sort of control and mastery. In response, she stroked him harder.
“But I can’t…”
She worked his shaft, showing him just how disinterested she was in his attempts to end their game prematurely.
“If you insist on continuing, I won’t be soft with you,” he ground out.
“I don’t want you to be.”
“Then get on your knees and present your cunt for my use,” said Frederick.
She scrambled up from his arms, but rather than assuming the position he’d ordered, she crawled on the dirt as if trying to get away from him.
“You think to evade my dominion over this forest?” he asked in a towering voice behind her. “You might make it a few feet, but I’ll make you take every inch in the end.”
She nearly stopped her escape then, just to feel him take her sooner. Frederick was a surprising mix of commanding and gentle. It was no wonder she’d fallen deeply in love with him.
In love with him. She was in love with her husband. She paused as the wonderful feeling of realization overtook her.
And that’s what allowed Frederick to reach her. He was above her, his arms around her, his legs forcing hers apart. That damned gown tore away without resistance under his grasping hands, and she felt him yanking at the fabric, then groping her breasts roughly.
He pulled away only to tug at the last of her dress.
“I’m going to fuck you, little vixen,” he growled against her ear. “I hope your tiny pussy is ready to take this big, bad cock I have for you.”
She could do naught but moan as he slid that shaft between the slick tops of her thighs and let her cunny lips feel the sensation of how he’d slide inside her soon.
“Your cunt is wet for me?” he asked, plucking at her nipples until she cried out from the mix of bliss and pain.
“With fingers like that, you should play the harp,” she gasped.
“I’ll play you like a harp,” he grit out, fitting the swollen head of his leaking cock at her entrance. “Now take this shaft I have for you. I have a pussy to claim and a womb to fill.”
Marianne’s scream of pleasure echoed in the forest, marking the moment her husband shoved himself inside her body without hesitation and let her feel the weight of his feral desire for her.
She panicked and inched forward, seeking to scoot away from his driving cock that was so overwhelming and large.
Frederick caught her hips and held her in place, giving her no quarter as he thrust. Her moans escaped her; not the sort she could make in the house, where they were a duke and his duchess, constantly surrounded by servants, but a stag and his plaything who needed to be mounted and bred.
“That little cunt is so good for me when you’re not trying to scurry away,” he said, holding himself deep as he opened her on his cock. “But I need to get this womb filled, so you’re going to be a very good girl and take it just how you need it.”
She was about to ask what he meant by that when Frederick directed her head down to the ground of the clearing. He gently turned her face and then pressed her forward until her cheek rested against the fallen leaves, now rotting from a winter of damp and cold.
Her body bowed at the sensation of having her shoulders and hips pinned, cunny stuffed full, and mind blank of everything except her husband’s rough claiming.
“I’ve longed to mount you since hearing your song, my love. And now I’ll fill you in the only way that will truly mark you as mine.”
He dropped a hand to her lower belly and let her feel the warmth of his palm. “I need you to hold my seed here so you swell with my child. Can you do that? Can you take this load I have for you?”
“Yes, Frederick, I want it,” she groaned against the leaves, her body so close to erupting that she’d promise him anything.
“But first I must,” he shifted his clever fingers to find her untouched nub and let them play over her sensitive body.
It took three strums until she broke, her hands coming to fists as she milked his cock with her orgasm and felt something deep within quake and move.
“Yes, take that seed,” he rasped, his hand on her hip holding her hard as he thrust in rapidly and without remorse as she continued to wail through her climax.
“You feel how wet I’ve got that cunt?” he asked, still stroking in and out despite their eruptions trailing off into mere sated bliss.
“You’ve seeded me,” she said tiredly, wishing she could collapse in a heap. Marianne moved to lie down, but Frederick kept her in the position in which he’d placed her.
“Stay like that,” he said. “Face down. Arse up. I need that womb filled. And if you’re a very good fox, I’ll fuck you again once I’m satisfied my seed has settled.”
At that, she straightened her back and prepared to wait as long as necessary to receive her reward.