Chapter 8 #2
Dalton halted mere inches away and leaned down. “I have previously informed you what happens to naughty little minxes,” he said softly. “Do you recall?”
Frances trembled with sheer need. “They are made to suck your cock. Then bound and blindfolded before submitting to fire and ice…the ginger and the icicles.”
“That is correct. Do you think you deserve such punishment?”
“Yes,” Frances blurted. “Yes, yes, yes.”
In a lightning-fast movement, Dalton gripped her plait and wound it around his fist. Next, he tugged firmly, arching her back, before ruthlessly claiming her mouth.
Oh God.
Her husband’s lips were firm and forceful, and when his tongue plunged into her mouth and swirled with her own, all she could do was cling to the lapels of his jacket and surrender to the storm.
The way he kissed her when she provoked him…
a deliciously harsh possession, a statement of wicked intent that she felt to the very soul.
Just when her lips tingled from the onslaught, he drew back.
“Offer me your breasts,” Dalton said thickly. “Cup and present them.”
Frances untied her dressing gown, then hesitated. Earlier in the dining room there had been some truly magnificent bosoms on display. “They aren’t very big,” she mumbled.
He tsked and rubbed his thumbs across her distended nipples. “You dare to find fault with such perfection?”
Her jaw dropped at such fierceness. Dalton liked her body that much? “I…ah…”
“You are a goddess, Frances. The heart of every filthy dream I have. Do not ever doubt the depth and breadth of my desire for you, it is endless like…like the sky.”
Well.
Thoroughly emboldened, Frances lifted the small mounds high. “So you’ll suck them raw?” she asked hopefully.
“Alas, no,” Dalton replied, his eyes glinting. “Naughty minxes do not get rewards, they get…this.”
He bent his head and circled her nipples with just his tongue tip, before bestowing a whisper of a kiss to each.
Frances whimpered at the cruelest of punishments: soft and gentle when she craved rough and hard. “I can atone! Let me take your cock in my mouth.”
Dalton stepped back and nodded slowly. “Very well. Take a cushion from the chaise and kneel on the floor beside the bed.”
Although she near-sprinted to obey, her husband strolled to the bed then took a thousand years to unfasten the fall of his trousers. After that, he tormented her further by taking his cock in hand and gliding his fingers along the engorged length.
“Do you know,” Dalton mused, “how many times I came in my hand thinking of you on your knees for me? Dozens. But nothing I imagined compares to this; the exact pink of your lips, or the way your nipples are so hard they’re almost shredding your dressing gown, or how your inner thighs are glistening from all the sweet cunt honey dripping down… ”
“Please,” begged Frances, actually swaying with lust. “Let me suck you.”
At last he nodded permission, and she closed her hand around the thick shaft framed by sparse dark hair at his groin.
He was much bigger than the practice phallus, and so warm compared to the cool jade.
Even better, seed dampened the head, and her tongue darted out for a taste.
It was hard to describe, both salty and earthy, but she couldn’t help returning for more.
To finish, she dragged her tongue up and down his length and lapped at the heavy balls dangling beneath.
Dalton grunted, his hand once again securing her plait. Then he guided his cockhead to her lips and penetrated a few inches. “Show me what that lovely mouth can do. It will please me very much if you swallow every drop of my seed.”
Frances moaned and began to suck, trying to take more and more of him into her mouth, but choking a little when the head nudged the back of her throat.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he soothed, his thumb caressing the nape of her neck. “Slow and easy. Breathe through your nose and let your throat relax. Yes, just like that. My clever minx.”
Soon, Frances sank into a quiet, dreamy world, where nothing mattered but pleasing her master.
Her lips sucked, her tongue rubbed, and when she hollowed her cheeks, Dalton groaned, a heartfelt sound of praise that thrilled her to the core.
When he began thrusting his cock into her mouth, she welcomed such dominance, such ownership, trying her best to take him to the hilt, to compel him to release his seed.
Dalton cursed, his movements becoming uneven but more forceful, his grip on her plait making her scalp prickle in a way that only increased the honey trickling down her inner thighs.
Moments later he snarled her name and his seed erupted into her mouth, the hot, salty offering lashing her throat as she eagerly swallowed.
Eventually, he gently withdrew and released her plait, before sinking back onto the bed, his eyes a little dazed. Then he cupped her cheek. “That was exceptional. You truly are a goddess. It has…never felt like that…I just…”
Frances delicately licked her lips, prideful beyond measure. “Because I love you. And it will only get better as I grow more experienced.”
“Christ,” Dalton said hoarsely as he turned to reach over and pour some wine. “We are going to drink this while I regather myself. After that…”
She batted her lashes. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“I will show you how it feels to be fucked senseless by a man who loves you.”
Frances beamed. “A truly splendid plan.”
* * *
Society called his wife Fortunate Frances, but he was the lucky one.
Dalton set aside their now-empty wine glasses, then assisted her up onto the bed. Never had he thought an arranged duty marriage could turn into this: a love match with a warm-hearted, saucy, adventurous wife who craved what he offered.
Now Frances had shown him exactly how marvelous a minx could be, it was time to demonstrate their future marriage bed: everything she hoped for and more.
“Well, husband?” said Frances huskily, as she leaned against the pillows and brazenly spread her thighs. “Explain precisely how you’re going to tame your mistletoe minx.”
Dalton groaned as his cock jerked. It should be impossible after her eager mouth had sucked him dry, but he couldn’t possibly resist the allure of such a perfect pussy.
“No more than a temporary taming, wife. But as you can see on the tray, I’ll blindfold you.
And after you’ve lifted your knees to your chest, I’ll bind your wrists to them with the silk scarves. ”
Frances quivered. “I’ll be helpless, won’t I? All of me, open for plunder.”
He nodded. His minx was a sensual dream come true. “Yes. Your breasts and pussy and backside, mine to punish and pleasure.”
“That ginger,” she said curiously. “Why is it cut to be thin at the top then progressively fatter? And only partially peeled?”
“Excellent questions. Because it will penetrate your anus in stages. The first third is easier to receive, the second more difficult. The top is much wider and unpeeled to ensure it doesn’t slip inside you.
And, so I don’t get juice on my fingers.
It really does burn. The covered dish there has pieces of ice and some tongs; I’ll use the ice on your skin. ”
Frances actually squirmed on the bed. “Then you’ll take me roughly? Come in my pussy again and again until I’m with child?”
Dalton hesitated, overwhelming lust battling the last remnants of inner uncertainties. “That’s truly what you want? A baby with me?”
“Yes,” she whispered, reaching out to cover his hand with hers. “But not just one, many babies. Sons and daughters who will bring us such joy.”
He nodded slowly. “I received some excellent advice from the Warennes, but will need your help. You grew up surrounded by love. You know what it looks and sounds and feels like to a child. I want them to have your experience, not mine. I hope they thrive.”
“They will. And I have the greatest faith in your ability to grow in love, Dalton. But you must talk to me, not carry burdens alone. I am no delicate daisy or indifferent society wife; I’m the woman who holds you close to her heart.
Oh, and one more thing: do not make me chase you again.
We’ll attend balls and parties and orgies together. ”
“Very well,” he said gruffly. “Together. Always. Now, I must gaze upon the most beautiful woman in England.”
As though unveiling a rare jewel, Dalton untied the sash and pushed the satin folds aside so it framed her exquisite form.
Next, he gently bent one of Frances’ legs so her knee rested against her chest, and secured one wrist to her outer lower thigh with the soft but strong silk. “How does that feel? Not too tight?”
“It feels just right,” said Frances. “Do the other side. Hurry.”