The two of you fuck

"My husband's side of the bed is still cold," Greta whispers with desire. "Fill it, Milord. Remind me of the fire you left in me."

You don't need further invitation. You strip away the last of her clothing, leaving her naked. You then get on top of her, and her legs instinctively winding around your waist, pulling you into the cradle of her thighs. You positioned yourself at the entrance into her now forbiden garden, toiled by another man for two years without any result. With a slow, deliberate pressure, you began to sink into her, intruding in what is not yours but you don't care. Greta gasps as you drive deep inside her.

The pace quickens, the slow reclamation turning into a rhythmic, carnal ploughing. Greta met every heave with a **** tilt of her pelvis, her fingers digging furrows into your shoulders as she moans in pleasure, barely drowned out by the wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin. You watched her face in the dying embers of the fire; she looked wanton and beautiful, perhaps even more so now that she has given birth to your bastard. You are deep in the furrows of her womb now, driving hard against the neck of her cervix, ensuring that every inch of her was occupied by your presence.

"You're a greedy one, Greta," you growl, your voice vibrating through her chest as you picd up the speed. "You want to raise my bastards as your husband's?"

Greta’s cries were muffled against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin as she neared the edge of her endurance. "Yes... fill me again," she whimpered, her internal muscles tightening around you in a frantic, rhythmic pulse that signaled her peak. "Leave me another... give me more than he ever could." Her body buckles beneath yours, her legs shaking as the waves of her climax crashed over her, leaving her gasping and slick with sweat in the darkness.

The sensation of her tightening walls is the final trigger. You drive home one final, deep time, pinning her to the straw as the dam broke. You felt the hot, heavy pulse of your release flooding into her. You stayed buried within her, feeling the rhythmic aftershocks of your seed filling the garden" you so favored.

Greta reached up, smoothing your hair with a trembling hand, a triumphant smile playing on her lips even in her exhaustion. You let her play with your hair, as she had deserved it.