She had resisted him at first, pushing at his muscled chest with all the force in her small hands. But his lust and strength were fiercer than any fight she could offer. When he slipped his hand to roughly stroke her clitoral area, he grunted in satisfaction; she was soaking wet.
For him, he thought in triumph as he captured her wrists and pinned them above her.
The cry she gave and the look of mute longing were evidence of the power he had over her, thought Lucien as he brought his mouth down on her willing lips, possessing her and demanding her utter subjugation.
Looking into her flashing eyes and swollen mouth, he growled,
"You can fight, little girl." but you want this too. Admit it.'
'Lucien, wait! Let me explain...' she whimpered, struggling futilely, although her body eagerly responded to him.
He laughed, lowering his head to nip at the sensitive part of her neck, and she gasped, her body arching involuntarily.
His mouth moved to her full breasts, the dark nipples as hard as pebbles. Her breasts were fuller, and he tugged at her teats greedily.
She was shuddering as he sucked and bit at them, the fight seeming to go out of her, and she threw her head back in surrender.
So she was as passionate as he had remembered, he thought, gloating.
His thick member reared in anticipation, and April moaned in longing as he roughly parted her legs, his mouth latching on hers all the while, biting and sucking, their tongues entwining.
He was too worked up to indulge in any foreplay. He wanted her and needed to sink his c**k into her.
With a sudden, forceful thrust, he was inside her. Her c*nt was as tight as he remembered, and her muscles clenched around his c*ck, squeezing them.
Ah! He thought she was so tight. and gloriously wet.
The woman who had kept him awake with a hard manhood for months cried out at the punishing feel of his large member within her, and he roared in heat, a dormant savagery exerting itself. Proserpina moaned as he withdrew, whimpering submissively as he returned, only to be pounded mercilessly again and again.
She writhed beneath him, the soft curves undulating beneath him, her hands sliding over his damp back as she whispered his name repeatedly and feverishly. She dug her fingers in, raking his broad back with her nails as her plump body shuddered with orgasms.
It was too much; she was incapable of resisting him, and she surrendered to him, inviting his hard body and roving hands to take her to the heights she had longed for on those nights when she was alone on the mountains, dreaming of him.
All her desire to resist him melted, and she moved eagerly, matching his thrusts with her hips raised, glorying in the feel of his possession.
Accepting his cruel possession and submitting to him eagerly.
All too soon, with a powerful thrust, he was emptying his seed again inside her, riding her forcefully, climaxing with a roar as she cried out, surrendering to him totally.
Once again.
***
Proserpina
The repeated sound of knocking brought me awake. The unfamiliar room made me feel puzzled, even as my body felt sore and thoroughly used to unfamiliar places.
I lay for a minute, trying to remember where I was; realization hit me when I heard Ria's tremulous cry.
'Mumma! MUMMA!!!"
I tried to leap out of bed, but tangled in the sheets, I tumbled onto the ground to discover that I was stark naked.
There was no sign of Lucien. He must have left me sometime during the night, I thought, coloring furiously as the memories of what we had done all night came flooding back to me.
Beatrice's soothing voice from the other side of the door, calming Ria, was audible.
Hastily, I cried,
I'll be there in a minute, my darling!
and bolted into the bathroom.
My reflection made me stop and stare.
The tumbled head of mahogany hair, my normally hazel-colored eyes that appeared wider than before, my mouth that still looked swollen, and the love bites on my neck and my breasts!
Blushing, I turned away. I looked like a woman who had been laid . And HOW!!!
Whereas the smell of Lucien's possession could be washed off with an array of fine toiletries. They could not dampen the heat in me as I thought of him and our repeated cohabitation throughout the night. My body ached; my womanhood felt tender and sore from his rough use; the way he had ground his co*k into me, as though to brand me...
I covered my chest and rushed for a shower, trying to erase the memories of last night.
***
Emerging from my shower in my old t-shirt and shorts, I rushed to my children, who were understandably annoyed. Piers had wept up a storm, Ria had thrown the toys offered by the nurse, and she was standing, her lower lip jutting out mutinously, her blonde curls askew.
It took a while to calm them and mollify them, but all was well after some time. I avoided meeting the eyes of the nurses and that of old Beatrice, who looked my way, smiling slyly when she came to announce that breakfast was ready.
A while later, we trooped into the dining hall. The table was set with matching crockery and mats, something the twins were unused to, and cradling Piers in my lap while Ria insisted on clambering onto a chair to sit, we began our breakfast.
There was no sign of Lucien, and the thought of him made me duck my head to hide the bright color that automatically rose to my cheeks. I had avoided Beatrice's curious glances studiously. But my own thoughts were running amok.
***
Lucien appeared when we were almost done. I peeked at him, a shy smile starting on my face. The sight of that head of gray and white hair and the powerful aura of manliness he carried so effortlessly made me heady with desire. Dressed as immaculately as ever in what the magazines would term "smart casual," he looked totally in command. I let my gaze slide over his neat chinos, a pale gray shirt, an expensive-looking blazer, and a pair of leather shoes.
Suddenly I wondered what I must look like, sipping coffee, seated at his elegant walnut wood table.
I felt like an ungainly, boorish woman and slid a little lower in my chair to avoid his noticing my old, frayed shorts.
I need not have worried.
***
He barely glanced at us in a dismissive manner, and suddenly, I saw us through his critical gaze-a trio of beggarly-looking urchins. Ria sat with toast crumbs on her face, eyeing him without blinking. Piers lowered his head and buried his face in my shoulder, his usual response when he met strangers.
Grabbing a slice of toast and indicating that he wanted his juice and coffee to be served in his study, Lucien strode away, dragging his leg a little. A bald, silent man, probably his valet, followed him dutifully with a plate in hand.
I sat, staring after him. The disbelief and hurt that rose in my heart, making it swell with sorrow, was unbearable.
After that night of frenzied lovemaking, I would have expected him to at least acknowledge me, perhaps? Maybe a nod? A look?
This total blanking out of our presence hurt me more than I could bear.
Burying my face in Piers' sweet-smelling hair, I willed myself not to cry.
I caught the housekeeper's look of pity and felt a flame of shame within me. The entire staff in the huge house must be aware of how Lucien had spent almost the entire night with me.
His rejection this morning would probably be a topic of gossip among them, I thought bitterly, pushing my braid off my shoulder and holding back my tears with a superhuman effort.
But thinking of the way he had taken me, albeit harshly, I told myself wistfully,
Perhaps he would learn to love me too.