Epilogue #2
“There, it will be so good, so sweet, I promise,” Benedict soothed her, kissing and fondling her breasts again and now running two of his fingers up her pouting slit and then into her body. “See how soft you are here now, Louisa? My rod will stretch you but it should not hurt.”
Spread open on the bed and brought to a state of wild excitement and arousal, Louisa’s eyes were inevitably drawn to the proud shaft jutting from Benedict’s groin, the purple head and the whole organ seeming to visibly throb.
It was large enough that she knew she must stretch to accommodate it and yet she longed for rather than feared its entry.
“Yes,” he groaned, closing his eyes when Louisa’s hand reached out and stroked him. “God, yes. That feels so good.”
It seemed unreal that she had a man’s organ in her hand – unreal but incredibly arousing. Learning also that this part of Benedict was as sensitive as her own most intimate places turned Louisa on all the more. Squeezing his shaft in her hand, she elicited another groan from him.
Meanwhile, Benedict’s fingers pressed at her passage and his thumb caressed the pleasure bud at the top of her slit, making her hips rotate with excitement.
Louisa was panting all over again by the time Benedict withdrew his hand and came above her, kneeling between her open thighs. The thick head of his shaft rubbed slowly up and down her wet slit several times before he nudged it between her inner lips and began to fill her.
“Oh, Benedict!” she gasped as the head and first few inches were easily lodged, and then a little more, and more. “Yes! Ooooh…So deep…”
Somehow that whole magnificent organ was soon buried in her body and Benedict’s hips swirling at her centre of pleasure. Louisa moaned and writhed helplessly on the bed beneath him, seeking Benedict’s kisses as the dual sensation of being filled and rubbed threatened to overwhelm her.
“Oh God, I need…” she whimpered.
“You need this,” Benedict whispered in her ear with gruff tenderness, withdrawing slightly and thrusting in again as Louisa tensed and gasped, “and this, and this.”
The slow, powerful rhythm of his thrusting gradually transmitted itself to Louisa too, her hips soon moving in sync, her knees pressed tight to Benedict’s sides and her involuntary moans mirroring his own lower grunts of pleasure.
The fear of being overwhelmed no longer mattered. Benedict had her and Louisa belonged to him. If she came undone, it would be in his arms, with his manhood deep inside her and his lips on hers. It was right and good, and then it happened.
Louisa screamed for the second time that night as her body contracted with impossible pleasure, this time in tandem with a triumphant cry from Benedict who buried himself to the hilt repeatedly and then stayed there, throbbing for long seconds in her warm wetness.
When it was over, they gazed into one another’s eyes with wonder, neither wishing to move. Benedict wished that they never had to.
“Is it always like that?” Louisa asked after a while and Benedict shook his head and then shrugged.
“Perhaps with us it will be,” he added with a laugh. “We must try again and see.”
“But truly, Benedict,” asked Louisa again, “tell me honestly, rather than in jest. Is it really always so when men and women couple? I cannot imagine that so many in the world would be so unhappy if it were.”
Benedict paused, tenderness pulling at his heart and his belly as he looked into Louisa’s hazel eyes and considered the question again.
“No, it is not always so good,” he admitted, speaking slowly as he searched for the right words, “certainly not for everyone, every time. What I feel with you, I have never felt with anyone else. It is…different, somehow.”
“Different?” Louisa continued to question him, although her face had become strangely knowing, as though she had already figured out the answer he was still seeking.
“Yes, so very different,” Benedict mused, dropping kisses on her face. “You know all of me, Louisa, you touch all of me and I feel it everywhere, not only in my body. You are in my head, and in my heart and in my soul.”
“You are in every part of me now, Benedict,” she returned with a smile, deliberately teasing as she embraced him with both her arms and her thighs. “So, what would you call that, Benedict? Is there a word that maybe covers all that I feel and all that you feel?”
Now, he knew where Louisa was going and smiled as he rested his forehead on hers. It was not a difficult admission at all, and indeed, he had already spoken some of the words to her before, although only briefly and in a moment of heightened emotion.
“Love,” he breathed softly. “I love you very, very much indeed, my beautiful wife. Far more deeply and truly, and far, far less chastely, than Sir Benedict ever loved Lady Elizabeth.”
Louisa kissed his lips and wriggled contentedly beneath him.
“And I love you, my Benedict, always.”
For the rest of their honeymoon week, they did indeed try everything again and more besides. Benedict learned to even better understand the responses of Louisa’s body and mind, while Louisa became accustomed to the sexual act and unafraid of the intensity of pleasure Benedict could induce in her.
The newlyweds frolicked naked in the lake at dawn, coupled against trees in the woodland and whispered and fulfilled desires and fantasies with one another in the little house at night.
When Louisa talked of how she had been aroused by riding a horse with Benedict, that conversation had ended with her being taken vigorously, and ecstatically, from behind on the hearthrug for the first time.
When Benedict said how much he liked her handling his shaft, Louisa undid his self-control by not only stroking and squeezing but kissing him and taking him into her mouth with instinctive, untutored passion.
For most of the week, they saw almost no one, the servants visiting only briefly to clean and leave food. It was only towards the end of the week that someone knocked lightly on the door.
Severely disheveled on the bedroom floor where Benedict had been giving Louisa a lesson in how to ride him, the newlyweds halted in their movements, almost holding their breath until the knock sounded again.
It was too light and tentative to be Damien, who had promised to tell them of any new developments concerning Lord Ashbourne.
“I’ll go,” Benedict sighed at last, regretfully extracting himself from beneath his wife, refastening his trousers and pulling on the shirt that had been thrown across the room earlier. “It might be important.”
When he opened the door, the young groom Johnson stood there, cap in hand.
“I’m sorry to disturb you on your honeymoon, Your Grace, but Lady Louisa will want to know that Storm is foaling.”
“Storm is foaling?” called out Louisa from the bedroom, rapidly trying to restore her dress to some decent shape but having to give up on her hair. “Now? Are you sure?”
“Yes, Lady Louisa. Could be any minute, the head groom says.”
Throwing on outer clothes as fast as they could, Benedict and Louisa rushed over to the stables just in time to see a little grey filly standing and taking her first spindly steps beside her proud mother.
“Storm, you clever girl,” Louisa cried out, embracing her horse and shedding a few happy tears at the sight of the foal. “You did it.”
“What about Thunder?” asked Benedict with an amused smile. “Shouldn’t he get some of the credit.”
“I feel Thunder’s contribution was minimal,” noted Louisa with a giggle, and Benedict pretended a frown.
“I take offense on Thunder’s behalf,” he joked as they walked away from the stable together. “We men don’t get enough credit for our contribution, as you call it. Anyone might think we played no part at all.”
“Dearest Benedict, your contribution is never minimal,” Louisa teased him in return, turning to put her arms about his neck. “It is vital and wonderful and I can never get enough of it.”
“I hope you’re still saying that in nine and half months,” Benedict replied, laughing but tender and serious at once. “After this week, with all my minimal contributions, there’s a good chance you will be birthing our first child around then.”
“Then I will be a happy mother and you will be a wonderful father,” Louisa assured him, her body tingling at his touch and the promise of their future lives. “All will be well, Benedict. You’ll see.”
The End