Page 30 of Mistletoe Minx

Soon, Frances sank into a quiet, dreamy world, where nothing mattered but pleasing her master. Her lips sucked, her tongue rubbed, and when she hollowed her cheeks, Dalton groaned, a heartfelt sound of praise that thrilled her to the core. When he began thrusting his cock into her mouth, she welcomed such dominance, such ownership, trying her best to take him to the hilt, to compel him to release his seed.

Dalton cursed, his movements becoming uneven but more forceful, his grip on her plait making her scalp prickle in a way that only increased the honey trickling down her inner thighs. Moments later he snarled her name and his seed erupted into her mouth, the hot, salty offering lashing her throat as she eagerly swallowed.

Eventually, he gently withdrew and released her plait, before sinking back onto the bed, his eyes a little dazed. Then he cupped her cheek. “That was exceptional. You truly are a goddess. It has…never felt like that…I just…”

Frances delicately licked her lips, prideful beyond measure. “Because I love you. And it will only get better as I grow more experienced.”

“Christ,” Dalton said hoarsely as he turned to reach over and pour some wine. “We are going to drink this while I regather myself. After that…”

She batted her lashes. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“I will show you how it feels to be fucked senseless by a man who loves you.”

Frances beamed. “A truly splendid plan.”

Society called his wife Fortunate Frances, but he was the lucky one.

Dalton set aside their now-empty wine glasses, then assisted her up onto the bed. Never had he thought an arranged duty marriage could turn into this: a love match with a warm-hearted, saucy, adventurous wife who craved what he offered.

Now Frances had shown him exactly how marvelous a minx could be, it was time to demonstrate their future marriage bed: everything she hoped for and more.

“Well, husband?” said Frances huskily, as she leaned against the pillows and brazenly spread her thighs. “Explain precisely how you’re going to tame your mistletoe minx.”

Dalton groaned as his cock jerked. It should be impossible after her eager mouth had sucked him dry, but he couldn’t possibly resist the allure of such a perfect pussy. “No more than a temporary taming, wife. But as you can see on the tray, I’ll blindfold you. And after you’ve lifted your knees to your chest, I’ll bind your wrists to them with the silk scarves.”

Frances quivered. “I’ll be helpless, won’t I? All of me, open for plunder.”

He nodded. His minx was a sensual dream come true. “Yes. Your breasts and pussy and backside, mine to punish and pleasure.”

“That ginger,” she said curiously. “Why is it cut to be thin at the top then progressively fatter? And only partially peeled?”

“Excellent questions. Because it will penetrate your anus in stages. The first third is easier to receive, the second more difficult. The top is much wider and unpeeled to ensure it doesn’t slip inside you. And, so I don’t get juice on my fingers. It really does burn. The covered dish there has pieces of ice and some tongs; I’ll use the ice on your skin.”

Frances actually squirmed on the bed. “Then you’ll take me roughly? Come in my pussy again and again until I’m with child?”

Dalton hesitated, overwhelming lust battling the last remnants of inner uncertainties. “That’s truly what you want? A baby with me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, reaching out to cover his hand with hers. “But not just one, many babies. Sons and daughters who will bring us such joy.”

He nodded slowly. “I received some excellent advice from the Warennes, but will need your help. You grew up surrounded by love. You know what it looks and sounds and feels like to a child. I want them to have your experience, not mine. I hope they thrive.”

“They will. And I have the greatest faith in your ability to grow in love, Dalton. But you must talk to me, not carry burdens alone. I am no delicate daisy or indifferent society wife; I’m the woman who holds you close to her heart. Oh, and one more thing: do not make me chase you again. We’ll attend balls and parties and orgies together.”

“Very well,” he said gruffly. “Together. Always. Now, I must gaze upon the most beautiful woman in England.”

As though unveiling a rare jewel, Dalton untied the sash and pushed the satin folds aside so it framed her exquisite form. Next, he gently bent one of Frances’ legs so her knee rested against her chest, and secured one wrist to her outer lower thigh with the soft but strong silk. “How does that feel? Not too tight?”

“It feels just right,” said Frances. “Do the other side. Hurry.”

When she was fully restrained, Dalton paused to admire his handiwork. Leaning forward, he caressed her lower lip with a finger, then circled each nipple. When Frances whimpered and tried to arch her back for more pressure, he continued on to her swollen clitoris and gave it a gentle nudge, before dipping his finger in her juices and teasing the rosebud of her anus.

“Oh God,” she stuttered. “Harder. Please. Please.”

“I won’t blindfold you just yet,” said Dalton lazily. “First, you’re going to watch me taste you.”

After tenderly kissing the lips that had earlier given him such pleasure, Dalton settled between her spread thighs and lashed her nipples with his tongue.

Frances panted, but when he fastened his mouth around one jutting pink peak and sucked firmly, she moaned. “Yes…yes…”