Smack! Smack! Smack!
No longer holding back, Rex vented his ire on her rapidly warming cheeks. Despite her hands over her mouth, Mary was no longer able to hold back her shrieks and howls at the robust swats raining down, turning her vulnerable backside a bright red.
Mary
What was his hand made of, wood?
Tears ran down Mary’s cheeks, and she writhed against the growing burn searing her bottom as Rex’s hand came down, over and over. The first few slaps had been almost tender compared to the assault he laid on her now. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, leaving her gasping and somehow unsatisfied.
The palm that rested against her cheek felt warm, especially when he rubbed his hand over her sensitized skin, but the well of guilt that had bubbled up inside her had not been liberated. Part of her actually yearned for him to keep spanking her until she was freed from the heavy burden of shame curling in her stomach.
She was well aware she had used him, used their connection, to investigate his secret club, and now he was trapped into matrimony with her. That the altar had been his eventual aim did not ameliorate her conscience since she had no idea if he would feel the same if he had full knowledge of her secrets.
Knowing fingers dipped into the well of her womanhood, and Mary whimpered, her hips pushing back against the callused pads, seeking more contact. Her bottom might be burning, her middle churning with guilt, but that did not stop the growing need between her thighs. There might very well be something wrong with her, but she didn’t know how to temper her reaction, much less make it stop.
“Is this what you were seeking in the conservatory?” His voice was a low, seductive murmur, a perfect accompaniment to the gentle fingers stroking where she was most sensitive. With her senses distracted by the heady sensation, it took a moment for his meaning to become clear—he thought she had been seeking an assignation in the conservatory!
“No!” The word burst from her lips before she considered what an excellent deception it would make. The thought of him believing she had been meeting another gentleman for similar intimacies was something she instinctively rebuffed, though a moment later, she cursed herself. His fingers paused, and she could almost hear him thinking in the darkness, trying to puzzle out what she could have been doing instead.
With a delicate groan, she wriggled, shifting her hips to press more firmly against his paused fingertips, the contact sending pleasure bubbling through her lower body. As expected, the movement distracted him.
“Oh, no, petal,” he chided, withdrawing his hand. Mary almost whimpered at the loss. “Naughty girls are not rewarded for withholding information.”
For some reason, when he called her a ‘naughty girl,’ her insides clenched. Mary hadneverbeen a naughty girl, not even when she had been young enough to be called a girl. She had always been a good, sweet, biddable child, hoping that good behavior would be enough to draw her parents’ attention and convince them to be home more often—or take her with them when they left. They had always said it would be a bother to have a child with them during their travels, so she had done her best to prove she would not be a bother.
It had never worked, but the impulses had remained.
Being ‘naughty’ was the antithesis to everything she had aspired to be, but when Rex said it, she didn’t feel the sinking feeling she normally associated with the word. She did not feel like shriveling into a shell and hiding away. If anything, it felt as though her body was blossoming, her arousal growing, as though he had stroked a finger through her wetness with mere words.
Coldness swept through her when she found herself being removed from his lap, but he didn’t seat her back on the bench across from him. Instead, she fell to her knees between his legs, facing him. His hands were at the front of his pants, opening the flap, and Mary gasped when his manhood sprang free.
The dim lighting of the carriage notwithstanding, she was struck by the impression he was verylarge. The masquerade she had attended at Hartford House had been very educational and given her multiple points for comparison, but none of those had been directly in her face, so his seemingly large size might be from perspective.
“If you are not going to answer my questions, I shall make some use of that pretty mouth.” His hand cupped her chin, his thumb tugging on her lower lip, as he pulled her closer. Mesmerized, Mary went. When the carriage rocked, the tip of him pressed against her mouth—intoher mouth, between her lips—as he pulled her chin down.
“Just like that, petal, lick my cock… suck it…” There was a new quality to his voice, a feverish strain. Releasing her chin, his fingers curved around the back of her head, pulling her further forward.
Mary had seen enough at the masquerade to have a semblance of an idea what he wanted. The salty, meaty taste of him filled her mouth, and he pressed deeper. Her tongue flicked over the underside, exploring as she wrapped one hand around the thick base of hiscock. A male rooster? While his member might not resemble one, in many ways, Rex did—preening, posing, and completely sure of himself.
Pressing her thighs together, she wriggled against the needy ache of her swollen folds, sucking a little harder as her arousal surged. Rex’s quiet groan urging her on, she dipped her head, gagging when the rocking carriage pushed him deeper than she was ready for. His fingers tightened on the back of her head, and he groaned again. He liked that.
Sliding her mouth up and down the shaft, gently at first and slowly growing more sure of herself, Mary pushed her lips down until they met the side of her fist.
“Good… bloody hell, that’s good, Mary.” The guttural way he said her name made her ache, then he groaned again when she rubbed her tongue along the soft underside of his shaft.
The name of his secret society made so much sense now. It was not just that thetonfound their past times sinful, the actual acts felt sinful in and of themselves. She had never felt so utterly wicked as she did now on her knees in a darkened carriage, her bottom still tingling from a spanking, her body swollen and throbbing with need, a man’s cock in her hand and mouth…
The act was wicked. Depraved. Utterly and thrillingly perverse.
Perhaps Mary was a naughty girl because she was already craving more.
Rex
The inexperienced but enthusiastic suckling of Mary’s hot mouth was getting to Rex. Knowing their time together in the carriage was dwindling added to the urgency of his need.
Wrapping his hand around hers at the base of his cock, he guided her in pumping up and down, in the same rhythm she bobbed her head over the rest of him. The slick glide of her tongue over the sensitive skin had him groaning and his balls aching. He moved her hand harder, faster, squeezing his fingers over hers.
Once she had the movements down, he released her hand and reached lower, seeking the soft, plush mounds of her breasts. Her moan vibrated over his cock when his fingers dipped into the neckline of her dress, curving over her flesh until he found her stiffened nipple. She gasped when he pinched the little button, tongue fluttering pleasurably against his cock.