Page 63 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

Gripping the side of her hip, I work the dilator against her tight muscles, easing it in and out. I continue to coat it with lubricant, wanting her to feel the stretch more than the pain. I want her to eventually accept my cock here, and I know that won’t happen unless I ease her into this.

Even now, as she grabs at the bench, her body starts to relax, starts to accept the intrusion. “Good girl, my little doll. That’s it,” I groan, cupping my balls with my free hand. “Open up and let me inside.”

CHAPTER 30

Teresa

The feelings Foxford pulls from me are nothing short of illicit, erotic, and wholly inappropriate. But with him, it somehow feels right. Why did I reject him in the first place? I search my brain for a reason but cannot come up with anything.

Perhaps it’s the fact that even now, he’s pushing some foreign object into my bottom. Perhaps it’s because my body is finally giving in to the knowledge it deeply knows, but I could never fully accept. Joseph Harding, Duke of Foxford, owns me body and soul.

Just the fact that he’s doing these things that are so wrong but feel so right. I want to beg him to stop, to ask him to leave my dignity intact, but I find I cannot. The words stick in my throat as the lie I know them to be.

I don’t want him to stop. I want him to break me open and make me feel. Until this moment, I never fully realized just how empty and hollow I was after my father died. Foxford fills a void in me I never realized.

For once, I decide to trust him, allowing my body to relax as he pushes forward. Despite the sting, I find that it’s not nearly as painful as I first imagined. In fact, it makes my stomach flutter and my core clench with need.

Inexorably, he stretches me open, forcing me to groan and shift back, needing the intensity of this feeling. He groans, his knuckles running up and down against my rear. Turning, I watch as he strokes himself, his eyes trained on my bottom hole as he continues to press further.

And then, as if he’s changed his mind, he pulls the object out of me and tosses it to the floor. “God, Teresa,” he groans. “I can’t resist you any longer. Please be a good girl and take me. Just take as much as you can. That’s all I ask.”

The stark need in his voice is humbling, and so turning back so I can lay my cheek against the leather, I close my eyes and concentrate on just feeling. The heat of his cock blazes against my backside as he teases my bottom hole with his tip. I want so desperately to be filled by him that I almost don’t care that he’s taking this hole instead of the other.

His length pushes against me, demanding entrance. Already I can tell even just his tip is far bigger than whatever he was using to open me up to begin with. “I need you to breathe for me, Teresa. That’s my good girl. Breathe in deep and let it out.” As the air seeps from between my lips, he eases forward just a touch. But it’s enough that my breath ends on a small whine. “God, you’re so tight Teresa. You’re so fucking tight. But I know you can take it. You can take my cock up your arse like a good girl.”

“I- I want to try,” I gasp, as heat floods my system.

“That’s what I like to hear. That’s my good fucking girl. Breathe now. Don’t stop breathing. I don’t think I’m going to last long. Not with your body squeezing me tight, milking my cock like it is. Christ Teresa, you feel so fucking good.”

His words of praise flit through my body, taking the discomfort and morphing it. Gritting my teeth, I focus on my breathing as silence descends between us. Foxford breathes with me, guiding me, leading me down this erotic path where there is no escape.

But soon, the pressure proves to be too much. No longer is it just his tip that breaks me open. We’re long past that. Whines claw at my throat as I try to get away from the relentless pressure, the sting of his body forcing itself into mine, impaling me.

Pulling away, he gives my bottom a soft pat, then disappears. All I can hear is the soft splash of water, and soon he’s behind me again. This time, however, he reaches around, his fingers seeking out that bundle of nerves that gives me nothing but pleasure.

It dulls the discomfort in my rear as Foxford once more notches his tip into my opening. As he strokes me, all my body can think about is the impending release. Everything clenches with need as he pushes his way in deeper, splitting me open as he forces his cock into my tight hole.

“That’s it, my darling,” he croons, his hips rocking back and forth as he inches forward. “You’re taking me so well. I love feeling you clench around my cock.”

My insides flutter at his words as a sharp cramp of pleasure races through me. His knot pulses against my cheeks as he holds still, letting my body acclimate to his girth.

I’m so full. So impossibly tight. I don’t dare breathe for fear of increasing the pressure. Even now, I feel each flutter, each jerk of his length inside me. It’s a foreign sensation I’m still unsure of. I don’t hate it, to be sure, but I’m still so sensitive I’m not sure if I’m actually enjoying it.

What I do know is I will endure this and much more just to hear the praises dripping from his lips. It answers a core need in me I never realized I had. Arching back into his touch, I move with him, finding pleasure in the pain as we rock in tandem.

Deep inside, his cock jerks, hitting a spot inside that sends a rush of pleasure through me. It’s similar to the one he strokes inside my quim, but different. Pushing back against him, I chase that feeling, allowing the lurid sounds of his grunts to guide my movements.

His fingers rub against me, harder, faster, sending tendrils of pleasure through my core. Everything clenches for a moment, my insides fluttering with each stroke. He moves a bit freer now, as if my body is finally accepting him.

I grip the leather, my body bowing up against his. At my back entrance, I feel his knot swelling, and for a moment, panic seizes me as I worry he’ll try to shove it in. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he takes his free hand and grips it as best as he can between our bodies, milking it even as he coaxes my orgasm from me. His release fills me up, hot and thick inside my back channel. It’s that action that tips the scales, forcing my body to release.

Screaming to the heavens, my insides clench around everything, dragging another groan from his lips. It’s filthy and unbridled, just like him. Just like us. He pulls his hand away and continues working at his knot, squeezing out every last drop.

“Next time,” he rasps against my ear, “I’ll be filling up that pretty pussy of yours with my cum. I’m going to stuff you so full you’ll be feeling it slide down your thighs for the rest of the day.”

Gripping my hips, he pulls out, but just as I feel the slightest trickle of his seed, he takes another larger object and slides it inside. “Now you can carry me deep inside you, knowing that my seed is in your arse instead of your pussy. Maybe next time, you’ll be a good girl from the start.”