Charlotte goads him on

This time when they ended up in a heap on the bed, Miss Marlton was face down on the bedding and Randy's body covered her like a heavy blanket. He intended roll her over so he could turn his attention to removing her dress when she surprised him by spreading her arms and legs out and lifting her backside up against his crotch. The feeling of her ass grinding against his already hardened member made him groan hoarsely into Miss Charlotte's hair and he heard her chuckle softly in response.

"Did you ever imagine, Mr. Fuller, that you'd have the only daughter of your sworn enemy spread out under you helplessly for you to plunder?" Unsure of how to respond, Randy tried to find the words to explain that his fight was with Lord Marlton, not his daughter. The young woman in question however took his silence as an invitation to continue her seductive teasing. "I realise, Mr. Fuller, that you've already had your ultimate **** by ruining me, but imagine what else you could do to this innocent body as I wiggle and squirm in your powerful arms."

"Please, Miss Charlotte," Randy finally found his tongue, "I should never have taken you the way I did."

"Of course you should have!" Charlotte's exclamation silenced him again. "What kind of man would you have been not to take advantage of my situation." She paused long enough to shimmy her long frame under him and moan sweetly, "I can only thank you for making the moment one to remember for the rest of my life, not all men would have been so gentle."

"What would you know about what men would do and want?" Randy snorted remembering her cry as he sank into her, this sheltered gentlewoman clearly had little or no experience with men of any kind, certainly not a life-hardened sailor like him. She was not wrong about her assessment of how others might have mistreated her but it amused him to hear someone like Miss Marlton expound on the ways of men.

"I may lack the experience of most women my age, Mr. Fuller," Miss Charlotte refused to concede his point, "but I have had the opportunity to read a good deal of histories about the fate of females taken as spoils of war." Randy wondered what sort of histories were shelved in the Marlton library that detailed the atrocities of conquering armies, but he did not have long to consider this before Miss Marlton continued. "Some of your own ancestors, Mr. Fuller, I imagine crossed the North Sea on Viking ships and raided the castles, towns and villages of this fertile land. For that matter, even in these modern times, there are reports of Christian maidens captured off the Barbary Coast and sold into the hareems of swarthy-skinned Muslim lords." Randy sensed the excitement of the woman pinned beneath him, it was not just in the breathlessness of her evocative words. Her fists clenched at the bedding and even in the dim light of the cave he could see the colour in Miss Marlton's cheeks as she lifted her backside rubbing it against his manhood. A better man might have pulled himself away, but there was something he found irresistibly erotic about the mix of worldliness and innocence in Miss Marlton - not to mention the feeling of her soft curves pressing against his hard body.

Charlotte knew that she was playing with fire, but the hour she spent fantasizing about Mr. Fuller's return had her so worked up that her sense of propriety was all but gone and when she found herself pressed onto the very bed that she had been taken upon just hours ago, she longed for nothing more than to feel Mr. Fuller ravish her again. She knew that she was going to get exactly that as she felt her dress being pulled up by his sure hands.

"Should I beg and plead like one of those proud virgins taken from their homes, or do you want me to moan and squirm like an oriental pleasure **** trained to use her body to bring pleasure to a man?" She had no business pretending that she could please a man like a skilled courtesan, but if that was what Mr. Fuller wanted, she would do her best.

"Which would you prefer, Mr. Fuller?" Charlotte gasped as she felt his hands reaching for the drawstring of her bloomers, "to claim as your prize the proud daughter of a defeated foe, or select a fair-skinned maiden from a coffle of chained captives?" Charlotte didn't really care which of the two scenarios was more exciting for Mr. Fuller, she just wanted him to fuck her mercilessly. As a lady she could hardly beg for his cock, but that didn't stop her from urging him on in other more subtle ways. Her approach seemed to be working perfectly because instead of answering her query with words, Mr. Fuller used his strong hands to lift her hips from the bed and position them above her knees so her suddenly nude derrière was pointing obscenely up to where he knelt behind her. As a girl, Charlotte had seen a ram covering ewes in the fields, and although her aunts refused to answer her questions other than to forbid her to ever speak of it again Charlotte was able to figure out most of what she needed. She hadn't really thought of men and women copulating like this until she found herself presenting her sex to Fuller's rampant penis like one of the ewes in heat.

"Would you breed her, Mr. Fuller?" She asked, knowing that, for this week at least, his seed was unlikely to find an egg to fertilize in her womb. "So that everyone who saw her swollen belly would know precisely how you treat the innocent daughters of your enemies?" For a second she wondered if this last bit was to much for even Black Brand, but with a strangled groan of desire she felt Mr. Fuller position the swollen head of his member between her labia and slide into her an inch or two. It was not by any means imbedded where she desperately wanted it to be but it was deep enough that it freed his hands to return to her hips in preparation for the moment of truth.

Although Charlotte wanted nothing more than to feel Mr. Fuller deep inside her again she could not shake the fantasy of being taken by a man and used for his pleasure. The heavy chain still firmly clamped around her ankle only added to the fantasy, she could be any one of countless maidens taken from the security and shelter of their homes by warriors who would claim them as their own in the most primitive way of all. In her romances the captives would plead for mercy until the very end, but did she want to play out one of those fantasies, or did she want Mr. Fuller to know just how much she wanted this?