“Oh, God, that feels so good.” She twisted her hips, her pussy aching to be filled, taken, fucked.
“Fuck me, Tristan. Please, please fuck me.”
He lifted his head from her wet breasts. “You don’t use that word often, do you?”
She blushed. “No, not really.”
She’d certainly never used that word when she and Douglas had sex. Actually, he had preferred while he was fucking her that she didn’t make any sounds at all. “Would you rather I didn’t?”
“Use whatever words you like with me, sweet. It’s your fantasy. Now lift up and sit on my lap.”
Lydia did so, although at one point, as she was maneuvering herself off the seat she banged her knee against the carriage door. “Ow!”
Tristan gently rubbed her knee. “Poor darling. Are you all right?”
She nodded and finished adjusting herself onto Tristan’s lap.
“Much better,” he said, smiling warmly at her. He quickly undid the front of his breeches and pulled out his cock. Lydia licked her lips at the sight of it. He shoved her skirt up around her hips. His eyes widened. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”
The stockings Lydia wore only came up to the upper part of her thighs. She had on a pair of garters, attached to a thin piece of fabric wrapped about her wasit.
It had, of course, been Saffron’s idea.
“Makes things easier, don’t you think?” she said, smiling impishly.
Tristan’s eyes lit up in the darkness of the carriage. “A woman who thinks ahead.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a condom. “So did I.”
“Let me,” she said. She tore the black and gold packet open, pulled out the condom and helped him slide it on his cock, her hands lingering around its impressive length and thickness.
He put his hands around her waist, lifted her up and slid her down onto his cock. Lydia gasped, gripping his shoulders. He filled her so completely, so thickly that her body warmed, a carnal heat spreading through her. It felt as if her veins were on fire. She had thought nothing could match the way he’d made her feel last week, but she was already on the verge of an orgasm. Closing her eyes, she slowly swiveled her pelvis against his groin.
“Hmmm, that feels good. Yes. Keep doing that.” He moved his mouth back to her breasts and licked her nipples even as he increased the pace of his thrusts inside her.
Lydia strove to match him, her hips working furiously. Her breath came quicker and her pulse was so fast it felt as if there was no separation between one beat and the next.
Lifting his head from her breasts, he gazed tenderly up at her. “The way you make me feel, Lydia. It’s been so long. So very long.”
There he went again. Talking as if years and years had passed in his life when it was obvious he’d only been alive less than three decades. She didn’t know what to make of it. A quirk of his, she supposed..
The carriage swayed around them and the sound of their slapping bodies and heated sighs and moans filled the interior. She burrowed her face in his neck, drinking in the heady scent of his cologne. He tightened his arms about her waist, his back arching, his cock driving steadily inside her.
Lydia braced her hands against the back of the carriage, her arms outstretched to keep her balance. Tristan whipped his hips off the seat, spearing his cock up into her. He grunted thickly as he fucked her, his arms gripping her waist. holding her steady. He nipped her neck with his teeth, not enough to bite but enough to send tremors of heat surging through her. He groaned with each hard thrust and, as he did, Lydia felt a hot, dark pleasure rising inside her. She beat her palms against the back of the carriage, no longer caring if the driver could hear her. “Oh, yes, yes, fuck me. Fuck me.”
“I'm the Earl,” he said thickly. “Remember? How do you address an earl?”
“What? I don’t know...my lord?” she ventured.
“Then say it.”
“Please, my lord, fuck me, fuck
“Fuck me, Tristan. Please, please fuck me.”
He lifted his head from her wet breasts. “You don’t use that word often, do you?”
She blushed. “No, not really.”
She’d certainly never used that word when she and Douglas had sex. Actually, he had preferred while he was fucking her that she didn’t make any sounds at all. “Would you rather I didn’t?”
“Use whatever words you like with me, sweet. It’s your fantasy. Now lift up and sit on my lap.”
Lydia did so, although at one point, as she was maneuvering herself off the seat she banged her knee against the carriage door. “Ow!”
Tristan gently rubbed her knee. “Poor darling. Are you all right?”
She nodded and finished adjusting herself onto Tristan’s lap.
“Much better,” he said, smiling warmly at her. He quickly undid the front of his breeches and pulled out his cock. Lydia licked her lips at the sight of it. He shoved her skirt up around her hips. His eyes widened. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”
The stockings Lydia wore only came up to the upper part of her thighs. She had on a pair of garters, attached to a thin piece of fabric wrapped about her wasit.
It had, of course, been Saffron’s idea.
“Makes things easier, don’t you think?” she said, smiling impishly.
Tristan’s eyes lit up in the darkness of the carriage. “A woman who thinks ahead.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a condom. “So did I.”
“Let me,” she said. She tore the black and gold packet open, pulled out the condom and helped him slide it on his cock, her hands lingering around its impressive length and thickness.
He put his hands around her waist, lifted her up and slid her down onto his cock. Lydia gasped, gripping his shoulders. He filled her so completely, so thickly that her body warmed, a carnal heat spreading through her. It felt as if her veins were on fire. She had thought nothing could match the way he’d made her feel last week, but she was already on the verge of an orgasm. Closing her eyes, she slowly swiveled her pelvis against his groin.
“Hmmm, that feels good. Yes. Keep doing that.” He moved his mouth back to her breasts and licked her nipples even as he increased the pace of his thrusts inside her.
Lydia strove to match him, her hips working furiously. Her breath came quicker and her pulse was so fast it felt as if there was no separation between one beat and the next.
Lifting his head from her breasts, he gazed tenderly up at her. “The way you make me feel, Lydia. It’s been so long. So very long.”
There he went again. Talking as if years and years had passed in his life when it was obvious he’d only been alive less than three decades. She didn’t know what to make of it. A quirk of his, she supposed..
The carriage swayed around them and the sound of their slapping bodies and heated sighs and moans filled the interior. She burrowed her face in his neck, drinking in the heady scent of his cologne. He tightened his arms about her waist, his back arching, his cock driving steadily inside her.
Lydia braced her hands against the back of the carriage, her arms outstretched to keep her balance. Tristan whipped his hips off the seat, spearing his cock up into her. He grunted thickly as he fucked her, his arms gripping her waist. holding her steady. He nipped her neck with his teeth, not enough to bite but enough to send tremors of heat surging through her. He groaned with each hard thrust and, as he did, Lydia felt a hot, dark pleasure rising inside her. She beat her palms against the back of the carriage, no longer caring if the driver could hear her. “Oh, yes, yes, fuck me. Fuck me.”
“I'm the Earl,” he said thickly. “Remember? How do you address an earl?”
“What? I don’t know...my lord?” she ventured.
“Then say it.”
“Please, my lord, fuck me, fuck
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