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Seven II

“It is hard?” she asked, troubled. “You doubt I can do something that they said women can do, my Lord?”

He opened his eyes and made a sound of protest, then grinned. “You can do anything just by looking at a man like that, ma bichette, and it will not be difficult to show you,” he explained while he lost his pants, sliding them down as soon as the leather strings were unbound. “I said it will be... hard.”

As soon as she saw the immense column of flesh that popped out of his lower torso from a nest of brown pubic hair, she understood what he meant and her error in understanding him. He was ramrod straight, alive, virile. And, yes. Hard. “Oh. You’re... huge, my Lord,” she whispered, feeling faint. “And angry.”

He laughed again, hoarse this time. “There is no reason to be afraid. I will make sure you are ready before we do our coupling tonight.”

She swallowed her doubt as she continued to stare. “Can I... touch... you?”

Anticipation that seemed to surprise him was on his face. He wanted to be touched. But she waited for a sign from him, and only dared when he nodded.

She reached him with a hand. He gasped at her first tentative touch. She thought he would step away, but he did not. She looked up at him again and he was waiting. His jaws were tenser, and his eyes were brooding. She felt simmering heat just under the surface.

She circled the meat with her fingers as she watched his face. He closed his eyes. His breathing became labored.

“Will you tell me if I am hurting you?” she asked.

A smile crossed his face and his answering laugh was a pleasant sound. It made her belly quiver. “Oh no, ma bichette. You can’t hurt me enough with that hand.”

“Tighter then?” And she tightened her loose grip on him but would have loosened it again because he gasped. But as she watched his face, it looked like he wasn’t hurt. “Will you tell me what to do?” she asked him.

“You’re doing it exactly right,” he whispered softly, hoarsely.

Indeed, her hand was moving, caressing the throbbing, veiny rod. Remembering how he pleasured her between her thighs, she realized that she should probably do the same to him. She knelt in front of him. She kissed the head of the small beast in her hand, and then flicked at it with the tip of her tongue.

He moaned a little, but a lot of pleasure was in the sound, much like the sounds that came out of her. His body became more rigid, the muscles in his neck tensing more – just like how her body went when he was pleasuring her. She tried to remember everything she had heard from her cousins. It was their way of teasing her for choosing to be a virgin until she wed, so she thought, it couldn’t be all true. But now, she would certainly find out.

She licked at his rod like it was something sweet, and then slid him inside her shallow mouth, sucking at him gently to see if that was alright. She did not want him to suffer just because she was curious about his cock. But to her surprise, his groan was of joy and his whispers were very, very encouraging. His fingers had slid in and out of her. She was not that innocent to not at least know where this column of flesh was supposed to go when a man and a woman were mating. It was a bit terrifying to think something like this could fit anywhere in her. She could barely get all of him inside her mouth. But right now, she wanted to try to give the Baron the same pleasure he’d given her.

And so, she tried to depict his fingers’ movements when he was exploring and pleasuring her. She slid him inside and out, grateful that her saliva made the work easier. She could barely swallow half of him, but he began convulsing like she did when his fingers were moving the same inside her.

“Oh, ma bichette, that’s it. Your hand, rub me... up and down, like that...” His hands now held her head, his fingers massaging her scalp impulsively. He'd become harder and thicker when she thought that wasn’t possible. It was now impossible to swallow him as much as she wanted to. She tried, but she had to slide it out because she had to cough.

As soon as she saw the disappointment on his face, she felt like she wanted to cry.

He reached for her. “It is alright.”

“I can still—”

“Not in here, or on the grass. I didn’t expect... I’d only meant to kiss you. But we... I’m afraid I got carried away.” He laughed ruefully as if he was laughing at himself. “I’d like you on a bed,” he said as he arranged his cock back into his breeches as he winced. “I’d like it to be perfect.”

“I didn’t do it right then, my Lord?” she whispered.

He reached for her and kissed her mouth, and it was a kiss so indulgent and sweet that she soon forgot what she felt sad about. He held her to him, and he was frowning when he raised his head to look down at her face.

“We’ll not waste time arguing about this. Tonight will be your first night with me in my chateau and we will have time to get you ready. And you are right... I am big. I didn’t expect it to be easy.”

She nodded, but her mind was actually in an uglier place because she was thinking how on earth she could even think about doing what she just did with him to her husband.

Silenced at the terrible thought, she lowered her face from the probing look in his eyes. She didn’t want to tell him about her despair. And so she was relieved when they heard the distant hooves of riding men. She could feel he was about to ask her further.

The others were back.

Soon, she was climbing up his massive horse again, and the others were back on theirs.

And they continued the ride to the Baron’s manor in the middle of that afternoon with Adaline leaning back on his chest, secure in his hold, barely containing thoughts about what he planned for her when they reached his home.

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