She doesn't, Max is in charge.

Christine wanted to object. She knew that what the blacksmith's son was doing was wrong and even worse was the sinful way her body was responding to Max's fingers. Until just one hour ago Christine's experience with men was limited to a few tentative kisses from Sir William in the castle gardens. Nothing had prepared her for the way first the Black Prince and now this common groomsman were brazenly exploring her body. When Prince Henry had been between her thighs teasing her with his tongue, she had been mortified by the way the warmth had spread from her core, and now here in the dark closet with Max's fingers touching her down there, she could feel the same sinful desire blossoming again.

"Stop it!" Christine managed to gasp weakly when Max's lips lifted from hers, but the young man wasn't listening to her.

"You have to be absolutely silent Lady Christine," he whispered in her ear even as his fingers pressed even harder against her slit. If those men hear us, I won't be able to save you."

"It was a classic case of the frying pan and the fire." If she raised an objection to the way Max was touching her, she ran the risk of being discovered and taken back to the Black Prince, but to remain silent was to submit to this commoner's touch - or even worse. Christine could feel the hard bulge pressing against her backside as the eager young man continued fingering her sex and squeezing her breasts with his strong hands. She could very well lose her virtue right here in this dirty servant's closet to a boy she barely knew.

"Please ..." That last plea sounded more like a surrender than a protest, and Max hushed her with another gentle kiss. At least, unlike Henry who seemed to delight in her shame and yelps of pain, it felt like Max was intent on bringing her pleasure but in some ways that made it even worse. She was the only daughter of the House Gerard, and somehow fate had placed her in the hands of this household servant.

The next gasp she let out was one of pleasure as a sudden wave of desire swelled up from where his fingers were working their magic. Hopefully Henry's men had moved on, because if Max kept rubbing her like this there was no way she would be able to keep quiet. Max seemed to understand the danger too, but instead of relenting his strong hand came up to cover her mouth and he pressed against her even harder. His powerful body pinning her petite form against the rough wood of the closet as he inserted a second finger into her.

It felt so wicked ... so sinful ... and oh, so good! The innocent Christine had never even once experienced a climax, so when the first explosion of pleasure surged from her loins if not for Max's hand, her scream of surrender would have echoed through the entire servant's wing. Max wasn't done. Even as her slender body was still jerking from the orgasm, his fingers returned to her slit and began their exquisite torment all over again. Only after her third orgasm did the blacksmith's son finally relent and pulled her trembling body into her arms holding her against his powerful chest as she slowly recovered.