Page 14 of How to Lose a Dowry in Three Bucks
He was big, but in the most pleasurable way, his manhood stroking spots that had her quim throbbing.
When Sophia opened her eyes, he was over her, looking down with concern. He darted down to plant another quick kiss on her lips. “Still doing well?”
“Feels good,” she gasped. She felt more than good, but found that she couldn’t put a more complex sentence together on account of the way her brain solely existed to register the feelings he was forcing into her body with his enormous cock.
“Can you take the rest of me?” he asked.
“There’s more?” It seemed impossible. He was already so thick, so deep, but she wanted to embrace and smother all of him. Take every giant part of him into her much smaller body until he was forever hers.
“Just a little more,” he said against her ear, then pressed deeper inside.
“Go deeper.” He was impossibly big, seated so far his cockhead might touch the edge of her very soul. Never had she imagined that impalement might be so pleasurable.
“Soph, my Sophie, darling Sophia, what have you done to me?” he mumbled against her hair. Was her ear wet? The earl couldn’t be crying, could he? “You don’t eat meat, but you take it so well.”
She felt speared in the most incredible way. And then he brushed his fingers over her straining nub and set forth a paroxysm unlike any she’d had before. Her interior muscles wrapped around that thick cock of Matthew’s and bore down until she was nearly in pain at the strength of the contractions on something so big. Her voice was not her own as she yelled, as though to reach through time.
Matthew whimpered and stayed still, as if in agony.
“Are you well?” she asked, rubbing her fingertips up his straining neck to comfort him.
At that, he pulled himself from her clasp. With a roar, great jets of spend erupted from the tip of his cock, arcing over the floor. The earl felt for her hand and brought it to his shaft, where together they stroked him through seemingly endless waves of pleasure that made a mess of the training room floor.
At last, he collapsed beside her on the chaise, catching his breath. Sophia surveyed the spend streaked across the floor and shifted on the plug still within her arse.
“I think you’re ready for the Forest,” he said to the floor.
Sophia gulped. Her very public ruination was imminent.
Chapter 9
Matthew Bohun, Earl ofPeverel, was in a special circle of Hell reserved for libertines.
He’d been trying to do the right thing: fulfil his promise to his university tutor and get Miss Sophia Stafford her London Season.
What he hadn’t expected was that she’d be the most perfect little minx. A curious virgin and budding exhibitionist-voyeur with a cunny tailored for his oversized cock.
Well, she was no longer a virgin — he’d divested her of that title, and if she wasn’t careful, he’d give her a different one.
Ever since their disastrous training session that escalated into the most unexpected smothering of his cock in Miss Stafford’sreceptive cunt, Matt had been like a man hunted. In fact, he was hunted.
Yes, she had shown her cunt to be ready for the Grand Bucks, but shouldn’t they be training her arse and mouth? she’d asked. She’d asked while dropping to the floor and placing her hands at the fly of his trousers, waiting for permission to take out his perilously swelling cock.
And, of course, he’d let her suck and lick it. He was only human, after all. But when he realized she was alarmingly proficient at oral pleasures, too, he’d promptly spent most dramatically and then had to flee from all mentions of continuing her arse training.
If she proved to be proficient there, he’d be the one on his knees, begging her to set aside this ruination project in favor of fucking and filling all day and night. It was too bad that she couldn’t live in his house and keep having Seasons in perpetuity without drawing the attention of the more judgmental members of society.
But then, if her project went according to plan, she’d be threatening her solicitor with photographs that could provide for her utter ruination. Freed of her reputation, perhaps she would consent to stay with Matt? He had never had a long-term mistress before, given that most women felt the full extent of his cock and then begged not to see him again.
But Sophia? She was different. So very different,Matt thought, gazing across the carriage at her. And not just in terms ofher body’s remarkable abilities. Her grace and grit, mixed with creativity, were going to set her free. She orchestrated her own liberation. What could he possibly offer her that wouldn’t amount to an alternate sort of cage?
She was back in her high-necked dresses and lace, covering her luscious body. And that cunt…he was contemplating making his way to his knees to feast on her when the carriage slowed outside the Forest, the headquarters of the Grand Bucks.
“Are you prepared for utter ruin, my dear?” he asked her, holding out a hand to help her down.
***
Within the townhouse, Sophia’s eyes darted around, taking in the plush green fabric floor, the spindly trees, and the sound of a spectral orchestra coming from behind a curiously mended tapestry.
