Yes, Finally

Randy's mouth fell on Charlotte's lips with a savage fury that surprised even him. As a rule Randy prided himself on his gentle lovemaking, usually teasing his lovers until they begged for him, but this was not lovemaking. This was something fierce and angry and love had nothing to do with it. His mouth punished Lady Marlton's soft lips, forcing them open as his tongue slid itself into her mouth to plunder the sweetness of her breath. Beneath him he could feel her struggling but the arching of her back and the rocking of her hips only inflamed his smoldering passion. At first it took nearly all his strength to hold down this wildcat, one arm pinning her wrists above her head while his other hand held her jaw firmly in place as he kissed her again and again. In time he felt her recognizing his superior strength and mass and then her struggles eased until she lay quietly under his chest.

He kissed her again, more gently than before and releasing her wrists he used his hands to roam unchecked about her body. Charlotte made a token attempt to stop him as he lifted her skirts moaning softly into his mouth and clutching at her dress as he pulled it to a loose bundle at her waist, but he ignored her protests as he pulled it up over her head twisting the yards of fabric around her arms until she was hopelessly entangled in it and weaving the end of the fabric into the gap in the bed board above her head. Given time, Randy was sure that Charlotte would eventually be able to squirm free of the long sleeves and great skirt that restrained her arms, but Randy had no intention of allowing his prisoner any reprieve. Once already he had been able to hold his desire in check, but not this time.

Lady Charlotte gazed at him with a prideful fierceness that he had come to expect from her family when he found the drawstring to her ruffled pantaloons and pulled them once again off her free leg. The leggings remained bundled around the ankle of the leg chained to the bed but he didn’t care. What mattered to him was the sight of Charlotte’s sleek thighs and the lovely junction between them. Charlotte had put on her garter belt and her stockings each hung from a single clip, but her panties had been sliced off so her bare slit was fully exposed once again to his fingers.

“I hate you!” His captive hissed as he unhooked her garter belt and tossed it again onto the floor. Randy found he no longer cared what the proud Miss Marlton thought of him, he had tried to treat her with honor and she had attacked him. Randy could still feel the throbbing pain on the back of his head and the soreness of his gut where she had kicked him. It did not surprise him that she hated him – Lady Marlton understood better than he that there was nothing left now between her family and his, nothing but hatred and need for vengeance. She struggled briefly as he fingered her wet slit, but this time he was ready for her kick and captured her leg under his arm before settling between her stocking covered limbs.

Charlotte really did hate this outlaw; she despised his brutal treatment and the callous disregard of the rules of civilized peoples. Most of all Charlotte hated the way the outlaw had played with her emotions. First seducing her with his deep kisses and skillful caresses until her had her completely naked and offering herself to him like a blushing bride on her wedding night. But just when she expected the worst, he had rejected her! Told her to dress herself as he looked away with disinterest. Charlotte had been stunned by his lack of interest, but now he had chained her to his bed and had pulled her away her clothes once again.

She jerked angrily on her arms, but the way Black Brand had twisted riding dress she could not pull them loose. In truth she was far more covered now than she had been minutes before. Charlotte’s arms were covered in her tangled dress, her camisole still covered her breasts and silk stockings sheathed her legs but she was far more **** than before. Black Brand didn’t seem interested in removing the rest of her clothing, he needn’t bother. Charlotte knew what would come next; one of her hidden books recounted the fate of four women captured by the red-skinned Indians of the Americas. The author had plagiarized shamelessly from Mr. Cooper’s “Last of the Mohicans” novel but unlike the colonial author’s very proper if suggestive descriptions, the writer of this lurid romance pulled no punches as he described the fate of the captives at the hands of the lustful natives.

The heroines of the story, two beautiful daughters of a British officer were spared the fate of their young maid and a freckle-faced settler's daughter on that first horrific night after their capture but they had to watch from less than a dozen feet away as the two young teens were used by the bare-chested savages. Like her, the dresses of the pair were pulled just over their heads and their linens were half torn from their bodies and then both helpless captives were held to the ground while the Indian braves took turns kneeling between the young women's thighs and used them over and over again. Just as Black Brand was now kneeling between her spread thighs.

“Oh, I hate you too Lady Marlton.” Black Brand informed her with cold passion as he pulled off his own clothes with the same urgency as he had removed hers. “I hate what your family has done to mine.” His rising anger was so familiar; Charlotte tried to ignore his muscular body as she concentrated on his words. “Whatever fealty that I might have once felt is long gone.” Then she knew! Those were the same words Mary’s brother had screamed as he had been dragged from Marlton Hall. At least she now understood this man’s hatred – not that it made what he was about to do any better.

“There is nothing that I can do that will ever fully balance the scales” Randy said as he placed the throbbing head of his cock at her entrance and slowly pushed into her tight sex. “But this at least will be a start.” He sank into her a few inches before coming to a stop. Angrily he pulled back and rammed his cock harder into her. Only when her sharp cry of pain filled the cave did he fully understand he had deflowered his captive. In that one way at least, he had evened the score between his family and Marlton Manor, but in the same instance another part of that which made him better than Lord Marlton was lost. Randy searched Miss Marlton’s eyes for something to ease his conscience, but all he saw was contempt.

“Are you satisfied now?” Charlotte spat angrily but Randy was nowhere near satisfied. A part of him was deeply shamed by his loss of control, and yet another part of him wanted to crow like a rooster; he had deflowered Marlton’s daughter on the Lord’s own bed! Mostly though, he wanted to finish what he had started. The feeling of her pussy clenched to his cock was unlike anything he had ever experienced bedding lonely widows and harbor whores. He pulled back and thrust forward again experiencing again both her tightness and the involuntary cry of pain that escaped her lips.

"That's so good." Randy grunted harshly, he could see hatred in her eyes that mirrored his and he pushed into her even harder than before; angry at what she had driven him to and determined to make her pay. This time though, although her jaws clenched she remained silent. Randy hooked his right arm around Charlotte’s right knee and lifted it spreading her even wider as he plunged into her again and again. He wanted to hear the fine lady scream and beg for mercy, but after those first two sharp cries of pain she suffered in silence.

In this one small way Charlotte defied her assailant. Mr. Fuller’s strength had mastered her feminine body, pulling her shamefully open and his manhood had easily shredded her maidenhead, but her spirit would not be broken as easily has he had made her moan before. With each of his strokes the pain lessened and in its place a new sensation was growing in her core. Her body was responding once again to his virile maleness, the fire that had been smoldering deep within her had been rekindled and each deep thrust fed the flame. It was like the sensation she felt when she gently stroked herself but so much more. It was just as well that her arms were bound, for her traitorous limbs wanted nothing more than to wrap around this man and pull him into her. Charlotte could feel her pelvis beginning to shift to meet him each time he rocked forward she fiercely reclaimed control of her body. Charlotte was determined not to give this highwayman any satisfaction, but as she squirmed under the outlaw’s **** she wondered if she’d be able to resist for much longer. In her romances the women always surrendered themselves in the end to the men who claimed them.