How to Marry a Marble Marquis(37)

“No one comes up here, Miss Eastwick. They all know to stay away. We have complete privacy.”

“Everyone knew but me, you mean,” she murmured, biting her lip and whimpering as his fingers stroked their way back between her thighs. When he sunk one of his newly manicured digits into her heat, she sucked in a breath. When he added the second, she whined low in her throat, an adorable, alluring sound. He began to stroke her inner walls, resuming the attention on her swollen little pearl with his thumb, rubbing her clit until she began to rock against him once more.

“Does that feel good, little moth?”

Her eyes were closed, her head dropped back, her jaw slack, and her mouth open. She didn’t answer but nodded her head mutely.

“Oh no, my dear, that won’t do it all. Your husband will want to hear that he pleases you. I’ll ask you again — does this feel good, little moth?”

“Yes,” she wheezed out.

“Do you like the way I rub this sweet pussy?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Yes, what, Miss Eastwick?” She said nothing, and he slowed the movement of his thumb until she cried out.

“Yes, I like the way you rub me, my lord. Please don’t stop.”

Silas chuckled. She had maneuvered around using coarse language, like a true lady, but she had rescued her effort with her request. “Miss Eastwick, you do learn so quickly.“ She was so wet that it was becoming difficult to achieve the friction he wanted on her inner walls, the sloppy squelching of his movement interrupting the sound of bullfrogs at the nearby lake. “Do you want to come, my dear? Is this pussy flower ready to give me a gush of nectar?”

She was nearly unable to answer. Her tits bounced as she bucked against him, just as flushed and lovely as he knew they would be. He wanted to suck her nipples as she rode his cock, but first, he wanted to make her sing.

“Y-yes, my lord. Please.”

Please sent a thrill straight to his cock. He rather liked hearing it from her lips in such a way. “How can I deny you when you ask so sweetly, my dear,” he purred against her hair, feeling her spine ripple. Silas let his thumb press a bit deeper as it worked her clit, stimulating it down to its root, fucking her with his hand, and it took little time until her composure broke. Her cunt clenched around the invasion of his fingers, a delicious preview of what she would do to his cock next, and he leaned forward to suck the hollow of her throat as she moaned, continuing to rub her clit, wringing the pleasure from her until she slumped forward against his bare chest. His hand glistened when he removed it last, her mouth hanging open in a stupor as he sucked his fingers clean, licking up every drop of her sweet honey.

“Miss Eastwick, I hope you’ll join me to break my fast. Perhaps we can stroll through the moon garden this evening, and I’ll show you some of the statuary Basingstone is most famous for, our ancestors who built this fortress. Tonight, I fully expect a repeat performance of that on my tongue. But first, I would be most obliged if you would bounce on my cock the same way.”

The first press of his cock against the lips of her sex was always as good as the first press of his mouth to hers. Silas raised her up, rubbing his slit into her dripping folds until his head breached her with a pop. He fed his cock into her slowly, gently pulling her hips down until she was astride him once more.

“How does that feel, little moth?”

She had hooked her arms around his shoulders as he’d filled her, and now she clung to him. “So full,” she gasped.

“It’s easy to fill such a tight little pussy. Roll your hips like this, love.” He directed her hips until she was doing it on her own, and his head dropped back against the carved throne. “That’s right, little moth. Ride my cock like a good girl.”

She cried out when he trapped her still-sensitive clit between his knuckles, locomotoring back and forth. Dipping his head, Silas sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, fulfilling the fantasy. Sucking her tits, rubbing her clit, all while she rides your cock. Nothing you ever do will ever be this satisfying ever again.

The ribbed ridges on his shaft were dragging over something within her, for Eleanor had begun to increase her speed, holding onto the back of the throne for leverage as she bounced. Silas gripped her hips, bringing her down firmly on his knot, an exquisite pressure that had him groaning as she bounced.

“That’s it, little moth. That’s just what I need. I’m going to fill you up.” He brought her down hard on his knot, once, twice — on the third time, his back arched and he surged up into her, his cock erupting. She was serpentining now, pupil outrunning teacher yet again, twisting her hip on him as his balls pulsed and his cock emptied, jerking and spurting within her.

“Does that feel good, my lord? Is that what you needed?”

By the time they were stepping through the side entrance he used when returning to the house each evening, his cock was spent and satisfied, bouncing soft against his thigh as he led her by the arm. His head was clear, and there was a bounce in his step, and her head lolled against his arm. It wasn’t until he was bowing to her, escorting her back to her hallway so that she could dress for their evening, that they remembered she had brought clothes to the rooftop, requested from one of the chambermaids.

Silas shrugged again, brazen in his Banyan. She was not his wife, but they were in his home, with no prying eyes to see how inappropriate the situation was. “I suppose we should try again tomorrow? I’ll see you in the dining room, little moth.”