Chapter 23
Xavier
Here we are again.
Back in this bedroom, Ivy on her knees in front of me, tugging at my boxer briefs to wrangle them over my now-painful erection. A few weeks ago, we were both in period costume, yet my modern-day principles wouldn’t permit me to take advantage of the unthinkable pleasures she was offering.
Tonight, we’re both in modern dress, neither of us in any doubt as to how much the other wants this. And yet her lurid fantasy has put a kinky spin on what should be the straightforward matter of continuing where we left off earlier, in the orangery.
Perhaps it’s deliberate. Perhaps she’s trying to get me out of my own head.
It’s working, I think. That conflict I felt earlier between wanting to worship Ivy and violate every inch of her beautiful body is back, dark and ominous.
If she’s giving me permission to cast my niceties aside and yield to those darker urges, then God knows I’ll take it.
She wraps her fingers around my dick.
‘Wait. Get your tits out.’ I want every bit of the depravity she served up for me last time and more. And if I was indeed deflowering my lovely little maid, then I would sure as fuck demand even more.
Her face lights up, and she leans backward, releasing my dick so she can make quick work of the little buttons down the front of the dress, shoving it off her shoulders and extracting her arms so it pools around her waist. Her black lace bra comes off next, and I exhale harshly at the sight of her, bare-breasted and kneeling and incandescent.
‘Beautiful. Now suck it.’
The moment that her little pink tongue swipes over my sensitive crown, cutting through the precum beading there, I practically catapult myself onto the ceiling in pleasure. I still don’t know what I’m doing with Ivy, but this is a moment I will never forget.
And fuck is she good. She gets to work, licking and sucking, cupping my balls and grabbing at my arse, running her tongue up the underside of my dick and teasing the frenulum with fluttering licks.
I permit myself to rake my fingers through her hair, clawing it back from her face and fisting it in my hand so I can watch the show.
I absolutely do not want to think about what has made her so exquisitely skilled on this front.
I simply want to stare as her lips slide slickly over my dick and her cheeks flush with exertion, as tears prick her eyes each time she takes me right to the back of her mouth, as her breasts jiggle, as she coats my shaft with the glisten of her saliva.
It’s as much of a visual feast as it is a sensual one.
Not only is the feel of her soft, wet mouth and tongue and warm fingers working me beyond compare, but it’s that it’s her.
The woman who’s transfixed me.
That Ivy is kneeling before me, servicing me in this filthy, intimate way, is what makes everything about this almost too pleasurable, too erotic, to bear.
The maid-slash-duke thing is a turn-on—it’s unleashed me from my normal etiquette-bound existence—but honestly, I will take her in any fucking guise in which she wants to present herself.
She reaches up with the hand not wrapped around my dick and pinches her nipple.
Her eyes flutter closed, a little crease of pleasure appearing between her brows, and it’s too much.
Her mouth is fucking amazing, but if this is having the same effect on her that it is on me, then I need to be inside her cunt, and now.
God knows I’ve waited long enough for it.
I tug on this bridle I’ve made of her hair. ‘Stop. Up.’
She pops off me and looks up, glassy-eyed, allowing me to haul her to her feet.
I dive on her with hard, desperate kisses, tasting myself on her as I attempt to get her dress the rest of the way off with little to no decorum.
‘I need to fuck you now,’ I mumble into her mouth. ‘Need to be inside that cunt.’
‘God yeah.’ She wrestles blindly with my shirt as I push her dress and thong over the perfect swell of her arse.
Neither of us wants to break this kiss, and what follows is a comedic romp of tugging and pushing and dragging, of panting and near-misses with balance as we both try our damnedest to get each other naked.
I’ve seen her bare, of course, earlier, and what a sight that was. But stripping her in here, knowing that I have the entire night to gorge myself on her slim, shapely body, is another feeling entirely.
Eventually, we’re both naked with no casualties, and I allow myself a moment to press the entire length of my body against her, my still-wet cock twitching between us as I fuck her mouth thoroughly with my tongue.
She told me that my entitled, immoral historic self would have bent her over the bed. It’s not the only time she’s alluded to how much she loves being bent over.
And what the lady wants, as before, she shall get.
I break away so I can swipe my trousers off the floor and extract the strip of condoms that I stuffed into the pocket after supper. When I look up, she’s eye-fucking me, hand on her hip and no suggestion of self-consciousness.
I really, really like how uninhibited she is. How comfortable she is with her body, her sexuality. I absolutely will not allow myself to think about how repressed the woman I will spend the rest of my life with will be.
All the more reason to make some white-hot memories with Ivy.
I rip the foil off a condom as I saunter towards her, challenge, I hope, in my eyes.
Her eyes flicker to my erection and back to my face.
The chances of my disgracing myself here are high, but surely no man would be able to acquit himself with honours when Ivy has let him inside her mouth and is about to let him inside that little cunt, with whose plush tightness I’m all too familiar?
‘Grab onto the post,’ I tell her with a jerk of my head towards the nearest part of this oak four-poster. ‘Bend over and hold on tight. I’ll need full access to you.’ Her lips part, curving into a smile, and I understand that I’ve surprised her.
Good.
Watching Ivy grab the ancient, carved post and hinge elegantly at the waist until she’s bent at a full ninety degrees is a sight I know I’ll treasure on my deathbed.
Her skin is pale, her figure willowy, except for those tits, which now hang, full and heavy.
Her arms are outstretched and braced for impact, her movements fluid to an extent that makes me wonder if she’s been a dancer at some point.
Having her available to me like this is nothing short of astounding. I roll the condom on with as much haste as a man whose heirs must absolutely be legitimate can risk and stroll around her until I come to stand right behind her legs.
Fucking hell.
My hands trembling with longing, I reach forward until they’re bracketing her rib cage.
I’m not the only one on the brink here; her heart is thumping in its delicate chamber.
I spend a long moment cupping her tits, weighing them in my hands, before I smooth them down her sides, my fingers splayed, wondering at the impossible softness of her skin, the fragility of her bone structure.
‘You are the most beautiful woman I have ever, ever seen,’ I tell her. Her response is a choked noise, her head bowing lower, all that golden hair covering her face.
I caress the tiny dip of her waist, the soft globes of her arse, before finally, finally, letting myself seek out that hot, wet place that my mouth and fingers got to know earlier.
Fuck me, she’s slippery as fuck, and aroused as hell, if the way she moans when my fingers brush against her wetness is anything to go by.
I sink to my knees. Just a taste, just for a moment, before I give my cock what it so desperately desires and bury myself inside her.
‘My ancestor would have done this.’ Abruptly, I part her flesh, marvelling at the delicate pink petals, at the sweet, musky scent pumping off her. ‘He would have prised you open and taken whatever he wanted once he had you ensnared.’
‘Oh God,’ is all she can manage as I drive forward and bestow a lavish lick upwards from her clit. ‘Fuck. Yes he would.’
She was remarkably eloquent when she was articulating her little fantasy a short while ago.
That I’ve reduced her to single syllables is beyond gratifying.
On every level, having her bent over and spread open and braced for my onslaught is a form of arousal so intoxicating that my head is spinning.
There’s just her, and the nectar of her cunt, and the sound of her whimpers, and the vibrations of her trembling legs as I shove my shoulders against them—and, of course, the endless throbbing of my cock.
It’s the last, as well as the speed with which Ivy’s cries are increasing in intensity, that has me scrabbling to my feet.
‘He’d take you hard and fast.’
I notch my crown firmly against her opening.
‘It would be for him. For his needs.’
I jam the first inch or so in, and she gasps.
‘He wouldn’t give a flying fuck if his innocent little maid came or not. You’re just a set of holes, warm and convenient. So stand still and hold on tight. You’d better fucking make this good for me.’
I have no idea where this stream of base, demeaning filth is coming from.
The Xavier who would never speak, and has never spoken to, a woman this way is gone, in his place a predator, a marauder, his sole focus to bury himself balls-deep in this beautiful woman and take every last ounce of satisfaction he can wring from her body.
That said, the way Ivy is carrying on, moaning and writhing and pushing back onto my dick, is the absolute confirmation I need that there is more than one of us in this pleasure party.
My fingers digging into her hips, I push inside her in a single, brutal thrust, watching with savage glee as my dick disappears between her cheeks.
Her shuddery cry echoes around the room as I bottom out in her, blowing out a breath in an attempt to pace myself, because this vice she has me in is a molten nirvana, an inferno that makes me think we should all be sinners.
I drag out and slam back in, eliciting another moan of approval. Her responsiveness, the advanced state of her arousal, acts like a red rag to a bull. The more I go for it, it seems, the more she likes it. The more brutal my thrusts, the more they’re hitting the mark.
‘Give it to me as hard as you want,’ she shudders out. ‘The harder you go, the harder I’ll come. Just use the fuck out of me.’
I let out a harsh laugh at that, because I didn’t think she could get any lovelier, but she’s proving me wrong at every turn.
And so I go for it. I thrust harder; I let myself grab at her breast and pull on her nipple until she’s shrieking; I white-knuckle her hip as I pound into her over and over with grunts that sound barely human, and all the time she holds on for dear life, her arms locked and back arched and head bowed, and God, the way she’s taking it makes me wonder what else she’d let me do to her.
What other infernal depths we could plumb in ways that I’ve never even let myself envision.
I’m lost to sensation, a slave to both my own need and to Ivy’s cries, her exhortations. I couldn’t stop if I tried. I have all the control of one who’s freewheeling his bike down a hill. My only concern in this fog of ecstasy is whether I can hold out until she breaks, because this is—
She comes. Oh my Lord, does she come. Every single internal muscle she has clenches around my dick, over and over, as she cries her way through an orgasm that seems every bit as violent as the way I’m fucking her.
Oh, thank Christ. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I work the breast still in my hand and fuck her as hard as I can through her climax.
This halo of pleasure is otherworldly good, my orgasm locked and loaded and—
‘Coming. Fuck.’ My body releases, and my soul sails through the air as the earthly version of me goes rigid inside Ivy’s still-fluttering pussy.
My climax rips through me like fire through an oxygen chamber, shattering me into a state that can surely only be explained by quantum physics.
As my drives slow, I shudder out a laugh, a what the fuck did we just do energy combining with my euphoria.
Ivy joins in with a shattered-sounding giggle. ‘Fuck me.’
‘Literally. Hang on a sec, sweetheart.’ With difficulty, I manage to withdraw, and she winces. ‘Sorry. Don’t move a muscle.’
I roll the condom off and knot it before chucking it on the rug.
I have higher priorities right now than disposing of it properly.
I band my arms around her and turn her, gathering her up in a floppy, post-orgasmic bundle.
Her hair is all over the place. I brush it back from her face and gaze down at her as I hold her upright.
I suspect she’d collapse into a heap on the floor if I wasn’t holding her up. ‘How you feeling?’
‘Like I just got launched into space.’
She yawns, and I hold her more tightly, brushing my lips over her hair. ‘Yeah. Same. In a really good way.’
She wraps her arms around me, her little hands smoothing up my back as she buries her face in my chest. ‘Are you going back to your room?’
It sounds cavalier, yet I detect a note of vulnerability.
‘Not on your life. I told you, it’s unthinkable that you’re under my roof and not with me. Come on, let’s get you into bed.’