Go to bed

The two of you go to the bed. It is a massive four-poster bed with heavy velvet curtains and soft down pillows. You pull the silk nightgown over her head, exposing her pale, perfect body to the warm candlelight. She is beautiful, her breasts rising and falling with her heavy breaths, her hips flared and inviting. You strip off your own clothes, dropping them carelessly onto the floorboards.

You crawl onto the mattress and pull her beneath you. The contrast between your sun-browned, muscular frame and her milk-white skin is stark. You do not bother with gentle courtships. You kiss her deeply, your tongue invading her mouth while your hands grip her thighs. She groans into the kiss, her legs opening wide for you without a moment of hesitation. She is already wet, her body primed and **** for the touch of a young, vigorous man.

You align yourself and drive into her.

Beatrice gasps loudly, her fingernails digging deep into the muscles of your back. You fuck her with a fierce, rhythmic intensity, the heavy wooden bed creaking against the wall. She arches her back, crying out your name as you fill her empty space. This is not the cold, dutiful coupling she is used to with the old Count. This is raw, unbridled lust. You hold her hips tightly, lifting her up to meet every deep, forceful thrust.

"Ah! God, yes!" she cries, her head tossing from side to side on the pillows. "You are exactly as the rumors say! More than I ever dreamed!"

"Quiet, Countess," you growl, picking up the pace. "Let your husband sleep peacefully."

"I don't care," she pants, wrapping her legs tightly around your waist, pulling you even deeper into her heat. "Let him hear. Let the whole world know what you are doing to me."

The friction builds into a feverish tempo. Her walls tighten around you, pulsing with a **** welcome. You can feel her nearing her climax, her breath coming in short, jagged bursts. She shivers beneath you, her internal muscles clenching down on your shaft as she surrenders to the pleasure.

You continue to fuck her, she looks up at you with heavy, lidded eyes. She says she wants to enjoy this even after conceiving. She grips your shoulders tightly. "Promise me, Prince. Promise me this is not a one-time affair. Even when my womb is full, I want this. I want you."

You smile down at her, your thrusts becoming harder, closer to the edge. "You do not need to worry, Beatrice. I say your husband gives me permission to bed you whenever I please. He wants his heir, but he also wants you kept content and silent."

"And tomorrow?" she gasps, her hips rising frantically to meet yours. "Will you come back tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," you promise, your breath hitching as the pleasure builds at the base of your spine.

"And the day after tomorrow?" she begs, her voice cracking with pure ecstasy.

"The day after tomorrow, and every day after that, until you are heavy with my seed," you tell her.

She pulls your face down to hers, her lips brushing against your ear. She says you come inside. "Give me your child. Don't pull out. Come inside me. Fill me up."