Page 47 of Brutal Serpent

I could feel his cock hovering at my entrance, my body trembling at what he was about to do.

He yanked on the laces on the front of my dress, pulled them so tight that I gasped for breath.

The Viscount pushed me up against the ornate window. If anyone was in the garden they would be able to see my body pressed up against the glass, my husband taking me no matter what I did to stop him.

My hips were tipped up, my husband’s strokes deliberate and regular, each thrust pulling and tipping my hips higher.

I felt like liquid under his touch, and I began to sense that strange pressure that sometimes grew in my belly when he took me.

I didn’t like it; it made me feel prickly heat break out all over my chest and throat, but it was almost like what it had felt like when he gave me a Female Paroxysm treatment.

“No, no,” I cried, nervous about how embarrassing it would be to have a paroxysm with his cock in me, and I shoved at St. Erth, but he only bared his teeth as his mouth fell on my throat.

“Stop it, brat,” he growled on my flesh, his fingers biting into my hips.

I could feel his breath on my throat, and his demanding kiss on my mouth. His lips were cruel and possessive, and when I felt the sting of his teeth as he bit my bottom lip, the pressure inside me tightened still further, a spiraling aching throb.

I began to mewl and protest, desperate for him to stop so the pressure would stop too. But he only made a low angry noise and yanked my hips even closer, grinding me over him, and my nipples brushed against his chest, their tips aching, my breasts heavy with need.

Suddenly I heard a noise I had never made before rip from my throat, an urgent, desperate plea for something, anything to relieve this pressure, and I then felt myself hit the peak and then my body was flooded with that all-engulfing liquid pleasure. My head fell back as I succumbed to it, my husband’s cock prolonging the shuddering gasping release.

He made a pleased grunt and then his hand was wrapped around the back of my neck, his big hand tangling in my hair and his hips were quick and jerky now as he released his seed into me.

The way he filled me was a pleasurable ache this time, and I moaned again, my head lolling sideways.

My husband’s breathing was heavy and he didn’t pull out right away. I could feel his eyes on me.

For a minute St. Erth didn’t speak. I could feel my eyes getting heavy and sleepy, like I was boneless and limp in his arms.

“You will do that every time I fuck you,” he said.

“You’re the one that does it,” I replied sleepily, but I opened my eyes, staring at the gilded golden ceiling languidly, still feeling the liquidity of my legs and arms, as my eyes slowly traveled down to meet his.

There was a curious expression in them and I was too weak to resist when he put a finger up and moved one of the sticky, sweaty curls plastered to my forehead.

Then my husband finally pulled out and I was just sitting up sleepily when I felt his big hand crack and he was giving my cunta firm slap. I was unbearably sensitive and I yowled in surprise, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure-pain through me.

“Keep my release inside you,” he said sternly. “No moving until I say so.”

CHAPTER 25

Catherine

“How should we entertain your friends?” I asked timidly as we drove home in the buggy.

St. Erth flicked a cold look at me.

“Youwill not be entertaining them at all, Kitten,” he said. “Iwill be taking them ptarmigan hunting. Since that is the extent of genteel entertainment in the country, I don’t need them trying for something more interesting.”

“And what is that?” I asked.

My husband met my eyes.

“You,” he said.

I felt strangely warm and tingly all over my body, confused and bewildered by his words.

“Now squeeze your legs together like I told you,” he admonished, placing a hand on my belly, the other hand loose on the reins. “I want to feel this belly round with my heir.”

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