Chapter 8
Oh, she’d really cooked her goose now. When Amy had inserted a euphemistic phrase to let her husband know how much she desired him from afar, she hadn’t thought ahead to the consequences of her actions. Eventually, he would come home!
Truth be told, when he wrote back perfectly nice, even tender letters, she’d assumed that her sly references to the state of her thoughts and body had missed the mark. So she’d grown bolder, hoping to convey her meaning.
Clearly, he had understood her from the first.
“You wrote that the Abbey’s pipes are having problems, Amy. Yet I replaced those personally upon buying the place three years ago. So whatever could you mean?” he asked, one finger resting at the bottom of her channel, his fingertip not even the barest bit inside where she needed him.
“I simply thought,” she said, shuddering with unfulfilled need, “that you might wish to test them. It.”
“You want me to test it, do you, Amy?”
He pressed his finger in so slowly she wanted to cry.
“It certainly seems functional,” he said, stroking in and out. “But I should look closer.”
And then he slid his tongue into her channel right alongside his finger. It didn’t reach far, but the stretching, licking sensation at her sensitive entrance made Amy’s hips jerk. The only thing anchoring her to the bed, it seemed, was his hand clasping hers.
She looked down between her legs and saw his head moving, his eyes studying her, and his mouth working to give her pleasure. Never did she imagine such things could be so heavenly, not until this man she didn’t know from Adam rescued her in her moment of greatest need.
She had a thought — whether it was before or as her first paroxysm of the night rushed through her body as he sucked her sensitive inner lips — that this man would father her future children. He would labor between her legs and take exquisite care of her and always be the best of men.
She was in love. Had been for some time, if she was honest with herself. A tear, a happy one, escaped her eye as she looked down at him just as he looked up at her.
Erasmus made a show of wiping his wet mouth on her thighs, then came up when she pulled on his hand.
“Merry Christmas, my beautiful wife,” he said before nibbling at her ear.
She could sense his restless, clothed cock so close to where she wanted it. The mere thought of him entering her for the first time made her want to weep with desire. It was time for the Mangevileyns to consummate their marriage. More than time.
“Daddy,” she whispered, shy about using the word yet loving how small and protected it made her feel, noticing it seemed to set loose her husband’s animalistic core, usually hidden under his scholarly exterior.
“God, Amy, you say that and I’m liable to spend in my trousers,” he groaned.
“Then take them off. Take it all off. I want you. I want you inside me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. Erasmus wiggled to the side of the bed and efficiently yanked off the rest of his clothing before settling on top of her again, just where he’d been.
“We don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she said. “Wanted it since…well, in October, just as you were preparing to depart, then got delayed, but I never could find the words. I think that’s why my letters were so heated.”
“I left my wife with a hot little puss and didn’t even know it?” he asked, letting his cock drift over her cunny.
“You had to have known how I feel about you,” she said, suddenly abashed. This conversation didn’t seem to be merely about bedroom activities. They were totaling the accounts to see where they stood.
“Sometimes I wonder,” he said. “I have the most reserved wife — save for when she’s writing to me from across Europe.”
“Oh, you don’t need to wonder,” she said simply. “I love you, Erasmus Mangevileyn. Have for ages. Didn’t want to burden you with—”
He was on her in an instant, his lips open and demanding as he kissed Amy and let her taste herself. If his response was any indication, he liked what he heard.
“Amy, I’ve hoped, or rather, not dared hope,” he said, kissing her again, then kissing down her neck until he could take a nipple into his mouth, desperate to consume her.
“Are you, well, dismayed?”
“Dismayed?” he asked, a laugh escaping when he pulled off her milky breast with a pop.
“It’s just, you never asked for feelings. They might be burdensome, given that you had a wife of your own choosing. And I simply stumbled into your barn. Without your permission! And then you had to marry me! You were compelled to do so.”
It was the most vulnerable she’d been since struggling to give birth alone in that pile of hay. She laid bare her heart, and Erasmus would not be unreasonable to think all of those things she finally put into words.
“Amy,” he said, fluttering kisses over her cheeks, blanketing his wife in affection. “I loved Eleanor and will always love her. When I met her, I was full of hope and ideas, and she was right beside me, with a zest for life and a desire to see the world.”
She nodded, understanding that there was no way she could compare. It sat heavy in her chest, but she had been prepared for this.
“By the time you stumbled into my barn, I was broken. Disillusioned. Humbled by an intractable grief, and living only so my Thea would have a parent to see her into adulthood.”
She’d not known the depth of his despair. She’d barely been able to hold her head up in the wake of Phin’s delivery, and Erasmus had seemed so immediately delighted with him she assumed he’d always been so happy.
“You made me love again,” he said. “Something about a baby in my arms restarted my heart. And then there was his mama, transforming into the most delightful creature.”
He tucked a curl behind her ear. “You grew more alluring with every day of my care. How could I not love a rose I’d worried over?”
Erasmus placed a finger on her chin, tilting her face up so she’d meet his eyes. “I love you,” he said. “And I love caring for you. And when you call me ‘Daddy,’ it makes me long to plant my seed in your belly so I might be a father yet again.”
The hunger in her husband’s eyes took Amy’s breath away. He was a man of civilization who could draw forth something older than writing, an aching connection that bound humans and their ancestors across time.
And now, that ache consumed her, too. It was time to join, to mate, and maybe someday bear fruit again.
“I’ve not done this before.” Her cheeks flushed when she recalled that her husband would not encounter a maidenhead when he pushed into her body for the first time. “Not this way,” she corrected.
When Erasmus was quiet, she pointed between their faces a few times. She meant to say she’d not experienced the act so intimately, but her mouth seemed too small for her tongue and her teeth were all in the way.
“Then let me show you the way, my love,” he said, his expression comprehending.
“I’ll make a little space for myself here, inside of you,” he continued, spreading her inner lips and angling his hips so the head of his member rested against that sensitive opening. “Are you well?”
“I am.”
“Then I’ll stay here a moment and let you get used to me.”
Amy felt the initial ring of her channel stretch to accept him, that hot, hard piece she’d longed to have there during all those nights alone.
“Breathe through it,” he instructed. “You don’t have to take it all at once.”
She was just getting accustomed to his member within her body when Erasmus dipped his head and flicked his tongue over her nipple.
Her hands flew to his head, covering his ears, and her hips instinctively jerked. Thus, he slid in her just a little more.
“That’s it, my darling, fuck yourself onto my cock,” he growled.
Such crude words from a cultured man! Which only made her blood hotter, forcing her to chase the deep pressure and slide.
Amy was making tiny bleating noises as she moved her body to take more of her husband within.
“Is there more?” she asked, quite winded.
Erasmus looked down and smirked. “You’ve done so well. Shall I give you the rest?”
She nodded yes.
“Then let me in,” he said, pushing himself all the way until the tidy hairs around his manhood pressed against her skin.
She felt full. Stretched. Claimed by a loving man.
“Breathe, Amy,” he whispered, nuzzling her temple as he remained still while she acclimated to the size.
Air escaped in a rush. Her body melted into the bed. Her slickness combined with a shiver of her hips to make him move inside of her.
“You’re so good,” he intoned. “Such a good girl.”
Amy regarded her husband with some mistrust. “I didn’t realize gentlemen could be so…”
Erasmus raised an eyebrow.
“So sizable. And lusty. And, well, crude,” she said, rocking her hips again to shift the thick weight of him within her.
Her country gentleman husband laughed, clearly delighted by the way she’d characterized him and his manhood.
“You thought—”
“Incorrectly!” she exclaimed, embarrassed at her admission.
“Your error was in thinking that a gentleman couldn’t be what you need, my love,” he said, letting his fingers stroke her nub.
He strummed that spot, working far faster than his confident thrusts until Amy’s hands reached for the headboard to ground herself as she drifted entirely to sea on the waves of pleasure.
“That’s it, work your little puss on my cock, wife,” he said, “you’re taking me so well.”
Her mewls sounded like begging, and his fingers were relentless as something built deep inside. Words wouldn’t come; she simply had to accept the bliss as he stroked all the places on her body aching for him.
“You thought I wouldn’t give my wife everything?
” he asked, holding her beneath the knees to drive within her deeply.
She was spread and bared, his digits no longer rubbing her bump.
She wanted to beg him to send her crashing into paroxysms, but she couldn’t fit the pleas in between her cries of satisfaction.
“What you didn’t know, Amy, is that a gentleman can be a daddy,” he said, his eyes gleaming as he returned that word to her after all this time. “Your daddy will take care of his little puss, won’t he?”
Her jaw opened of its own accord, and she felt a tremor deep within.
“That’s right, stroke your daddy’s cock with this tight little cunny,” he said, thrusting his hips relentlessly. My, all that labor on the home farm had certainly done his body good!
Erasmus slowed his strokes, and just when she gathered the words to complain, he asked, “Are you going to give Daddy another baby soon, or should we wait?”
Amy’s movements stopped. She hadn’t considered the ramifications of their lovemaking, at least not tonight, when the sensations and emotions proved so overwhelming.
“You’re nursing yet,” said Erasmus, fondling her nipple until it leaked drops of milk, “so it might take some time. Or it might not.”
She lay there, his thrusts languid as she mulled over what he was asking. Thought about how he was granting her a choice in the matter.
“I’ll make your cunny squeal either way,” he said wryly.
Amy laughed and let her fingers trail over her swollen breasts, touching her sensitive nipples. She relaxed around her husband’s thick cock and then squeezed it again. She thought of giving him another baby, how it would feel to have him beside her this time as she labored.
And mostly, she thought of how much she wanted his spend in her womb and channel, how desperately she needed to take his seed. She’d never known this about herself, how she liked her husband’s spend, but she now knew that the idea of it pumping within her made everything a little more delicious.
“Inside me,” she gasped, as Erasmus picked up speed. “I want it all inside me.”
“What’s that, Amy? What do you want inside?” he asked, a smirk coming over his face as he looked down at her.
“Your…”
Erasmus slowed.
“Your spend.”
“And where do you want it?”
“Inside.”
“Inside where, my love?”
“In my…in my hole. My womb.”
“And what are you going to do with all of that seed I’m going to pump in your hungry little cunny?”
“Make a baby. Maybe.”
“Now, you’re a very good girl, so I know you’ll keep it inside, won’t you? If I’m going to fill you, you have to do your part and hold it in.”
He was moving faster now, and her thighs shook where they clapped against his. She was so close to release, so desperately close to grasping something spectacular.
“It’s going to be hard to keep my loads inside this tight little puss,” he said, punctuating the top of each thrust with a snap of his hips, “but I’ll keep you in bed, spoiled, your legs lifted, with your tea delivered and all the help you need.
And I’ll fill you up, as long as it takes until you swell with my baby again. ”
Erasmus’s loving care never failed to make her heart beat faster, and this was no exception. She screamed into her hand as her channel worked around him in ways she couldn’t control and her whole body seemed to shake endlessly.
Her head, once filled with thoughts, went blank, and her vision darkened. She felt as though the soft mattress swallowed her and her bowing spine.
And then, a muffled roar followed by, “So good, so good.”
Erasmus dipped his head to kiss her lips with the utmost tenderness as he continued to thrust through the seed he’d poured into her.
“You’ve done so well, Amy, my love. So very well.”
She basked in his praise and care, thanking whatever invisible compass or hand of Providence had directed her to the barn of the most loving man in all of Oxfordshire.