Finally

Randy could no longer doubt that Miss Marlton was serious about finishing what had been started the day before when he first took her in his arms. Each passionate kiss, each time he took her in his arms and each time their eyes locked he knew that he wanted to take this beautiful lady on the manor and make her his. Last night he still believed that he could deny the urges that rippled through his body again and again, but this morning when he woke with her breast cupped in his hand, his resolve crumbled. After Miss Marlton made her need as plain and open as his, Randy no longer cared about anything except for this. His mouth covered hers and he rolled over her pressing her back to the bed and kissing her fiercely.

"Ohghh," Miss Charlotte moaned softly as the kiss ended, "remember your promise Mr. Fuller." Her arms wrapped around his neck and she clung to him as she whispered in his ear. "Finish what you started, make me yours and don't stop until you've taken everything you want from my untried body." Randy felt his member throb as he heard her words and then he settled between her knees easing them open with his legs and rocking forward until his shaft was nestled between her soft belly and his.

"I can feel you Mr. Fuller, I can feel how big you are." Charlotte found that vocalizing her fears helped her deal with them. As hard and thick as Mr. Fuller's penis was she couldn't imagine how it could ever fit inside her, but just the thought of him forcing himself into her resulted in a wave of moist heat flood her core. Her body at least knew what a man needed, even if she didn't. "I'm ready, Mr. Fuller. Do it, do it now." There was a brief moment where she felt him positioning the head of his penis between the petals of her sex and then his hand returned to brace himself just above her shoulder.

"This may hurt, Lady Marlton." She knew that of course. Although she got mixed reviews from her married friends about how much the first time hurt, she doubted that any of their husbands where endowed like Mr. Fuller. Her romances always depicted the cry of pain when a maiden was deflowered by her captor and she expected nothing less. Again her mind wandered to the dangerous fantasies of Vikings and their captured prizes.

"I know," she gasped softly, "Don't try to be gentile, make me cry out, I want to remember this forev-aiighh." Mr. Fuller took her at her word and before she could even finish the sentence she felt the sudden intrusion of his member **** into her sex. It did hurt, but not, she decided, as much as she was lead to believe. "Yes!" She gasped as she sensed that Mr. Fuller might stop. "Don't stop. You promised Mr. Fuller. Don't stop until you've tamed your proud captive."

"Are you ok?" He asked her as he slowly eased a little deeper.

"Yes damn it!" Charlotte jerked upward lifting herself up against him, "Take me, take me hard and keep fucking me until there is no doubt that I belong to you." Mr. Fuller finally seemed to accept that this is what she needed because with a grunt he drove his cock in to the hilt. She cried out again, but this time he didn't stop. Just in case she urged him on. "You have deflowered Lord Marlton's daughter, imagine what he'd say if he knew you were fucking his pure little girl." Her father didn't give a shit about either her or her maidenhead, but in spite of Mr. Fuller's insistence that this was not about Mary she felt his fist tighten in her hair and the pace and **** of each thrust increased. It still hurt, but mixed with the discomfort she could feel a familiar growing itch that she knew would lead to a monumental climax if he kept pounding her like this.

"Oh please," Charlotte's treacherous mind slipped once again into her dark fantasies, she was being ravished by her families sworn enemy; instead of moving with his hard thrusts she experimented a little with twisting and squirming beneath his hips. The effect of these little gyrations added to the pleasure that was pulsing from her groin and it had a positive effect on Mr. Fuller too. The hand in her hair tightened and his free hand swept under her knee and lifted it up almost to her chest opening her even more to each of his thrusts. She tried to pretend that she was protesting and doing her best to escape the clutches of a plundering warrior, but she knew that each gasp was one of pleasure and that her extra wiggling was not to dislodge Mr. Fuller but to find the orgasm that was just eluding her.

When it came, Charlotte was lost in a moment of timeless wonder. None of her married friends ever spoke about this kind of pleasure and she, for the first time, began to understand the veiled references hinted at in her romance novels.

They lay together for almost an hour before Randy climbed to his feet to see to the fire and Charlotte slowly pulled on her clothes as best she could without a maid to help. They ate together in silence, a simple meal of salt-pork and fried bread, but Charlotte could only think about what was surely to come once Mr. Fuller's libido was once again aroused.

After what transpired earlier in the day, it seemed pointless to deny the pleasure she felt, but at the same time was she supposed to long for his touch the way she did now? The moment came later in the day when without a word the outlaw took her small hand in his and led her back to the bed.