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 that 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 ceased as suddenly as they had begun.

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 clutching at her dress when he pulled it to a loose bundle at her waist and moaning softly into his mouth, but he ignored her protests and pulled the dress up over her head twisting the yards of fabric around her arms until she was hopelessly entangled in it and weaving the ends through the woodwork at the head of the bed. 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.

Lady Charlotte gazed at him with the prideful arrogance that he had come to expect from her family even when he found the drawstring to her ruffled pantaloons and pulled them completely 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.

“I hate you!” Charlotte hissed as he unhooked her garter belt and tossed it onto the floor. Randy found he no longer cared what the proud Miss Marlton thought of him, in fact how could she feel anything but contempt for him - her family and his had moved past any understanding and respect. There was nothing left now but hatred and need for vengeance. She struggled again as he pulled her lace intimates over her toned legs, trying to kick him as he pulled the scrap of silk from her free foot, but he was ready for her and quickly settled between her stocking covered limbs.

Charlotte did hate this outlaw; she despised his brutal treatment and the callous disregard of the rules of civilized nations. She pulled angrily on her arms, but the with the way Black Brand had twisted riding dress she could not pull them loose. Charlotte’s camisole still covered her breasts, but the sheer fabric had ridden high exposing her soft belly and thighs and the secret treasure that had been hidden from men for twenty years. Yellow stockings still clung to her thighs, and her panties and leggings were wrapped around her right ankle where the iron chain secured her to his bed but the outlaw didn't bother to undress her any more. 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 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 light-skinned captives at the hands of the lustful savages.

The heroines of the story, two beautiful daughters of a British officer, were too valuable as hostages to be violated by their captors. The French officer prevented that, but although they were spared the fate of their young maid and the freckle-faced settler's daughter on that first horrific night in the woods they had to watch from less than a dozen feet away as the two women were used by the bare-chested braves. There was simply nothing they could do as the dresses of the pair were pulled over their heads and their linens were half torn from their bodies. Neither threats nor tears had any influence over the savages and the sisters could only watch in horror while the helpless captives were held to the ground and the Indian warriors spread their legs wide.

Charlotte remembered feeling aroused as she read the scene in the book, ashamed that she could be excited by both the idea of being tied helplessly to a tree and also imagining that it was she who had been thrown to the ground to satisfy the lusts of the warriors. She no longer had to imagine what that would be like. She had been bound and stripped, and now overpowered and opened like a prize for this man's pleasure. To her dismay as frightened as she was, Charlotte felt that same arousal as she lay struggling under this man's frame. She hated herself, because she knew this was no romance - to this outlaw she was just another half dressed victim pinned beneath him to be used for his base pleasure.

“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 remember why, but it was impossible to ignore his muscular body as he climbed back between her thighs and settled all his weight on her torso. The hard strength of bare chest crushed the soft mounds of her bosom sending waves of heat from the tips of her breasts like tiny lightning bolts straight to the juncture between her thighs. There was no mistaking the hard flesh that pressed against her belly, once again she could feel her treacherous femininity surrendering to this male essence.

“For years your family has been fucking the very people it is supposed to protect and support.” Randy said as he placed the throbbing head of his cock at her entrance and slowly pushed into her tight sex. “Taking the prettiest girls to use and discard like soiled hand cloths, I think its time to return the favour.” 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. The brief moment when he paused to savour the moment ended with her angry condemnation.

“Are you satisfied now?” Even now, Miss Charlotte maintained her scornful pride, but Randy didn't care. God she felt good encasing his manhood; the fact that Marlton’s daughter had been a virgin only added to his sense of vengence, but he was nowhere near satisfied. The pressure of her stretched pussy was unlike anything he had ever experienced bedding lonely widows and harbor whores. He pulled back and thrust forward again savoring both her tightness and the involuntary cry of pain that escaped her lips. He could see hatred in her eyes that mirrored his and he pushed roughly into her again but this time 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 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 and his hardened manhood had easily shredded her maidenhead, but her spirit would not be easily broken. With each of his strokes the pain lessened and in its place a new sensation was growing in her core. It couldn’t be! Her body was responding to his virile maleness, a fire had been kindled deep within her and each of his deep thrusts 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 and legs were bound, for a traitorous part of her wanted nothing more than to wrap her limbs around this man and pull him into her. Charlotte could even 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 erotic stories the women always surrendered themselves in the end to the men who claimed them.