Chapter 16: A Lady's Ravishment
The grandfather clock in the hall chimed eight deep, resonant notes. Each one vibrated through the thick oak door of the master bedroom, echoing the frantic pulse Elizabeth felt hammering in her wrists, her throat, the slick heat between her thighs. She lay sprawled across the vast expanse of the four-poster bed, exactly as she’d commanded Henry to prepare it. Crimson rose petals formed a halo around her body, crushed beneath her weight and releasing their heady, cloying perfume into the fire-warmed air. The black satin straps of the ‘Midnight Shackles’ bit deliciously into her pale skin, framing her breasts, cinching her waist, leaving her glistening cunt utterly exposed. Her legs were spread wide, knees bent, feet planted firmly on the silk sheets. One hand rested possessively on her inner thigh, fingers splayed; the other was busy.
Two fingers slid easily inside herself, slick with her own arousal. She worked them slowly, deliberately, watching the bedroom door. The firelight danced on the polished steel cage Henry had locked himself into hours ago, a phantom ache she knew he’d be feeling right now. Good. Let him ache. Let him imagine.
The door handle turned. Smoothly. Silently. Rupert stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. He froze, his sandy hair catching the firelight, his comfortable accountant’s frame seeming momentarily awkward in the grandeur of the room. His eyes widened, taking in the scene: the velvet drapes, the disapproving ancestors gazing down from the walls, the fire’s glow, the sea of rose petals, and Elizabeth, a decadent offering laid bare upon them.
“Elizabeth?” His voice was husky, thick with disbelief and burgeoning lust. He swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on her moving fingers, the glistening wetness they revealed.
“Lock it,” Elizabeth commanded, her voice low and rough, thick with anticipation. She didn’t stop fingering herself. She curled her fingers, finding that sweet spot deep inside, drawing a soft, shuddering gasp from her own lips. “Turn the key.”
Rupert fumbled slightly, locking the door. The click echoed in the suddenly charged silence. He took a hesitant step towards the bed, his eyes devouring her. “Margot… she said…”
“Margot gave you a gift,” Elizabeth interrupted, withdrawing her fingers slowly, holding them up. They glistened wetly in the firelight. She brought them to her lips, tasting herself, her gaze locked on his. “Me. Consider me unwrapped, Rupert. Now come here and claim your present.”
He moved then, shedding his jacket, pulling his jumper over his head with hurried tugs. His eyes never left her body. He kicked off his shoes, fumbled with his belt. Elizabeth watched the bulge straining against his trousers, a surge of triumph flooding her. Yes. He was hard. Properly hard. Henry could never manage that anymore, not without pills and coaxing. This was primal. Raw.
“Faster,” she hissed, arching her back slightly, pushing her hips up towards him. “I haven’t been properly fucked in years, Rupert. Don’t make me wait.”
He practically tore his trousers and underwear down, his cock springing free, thick and flushed, standing rigidly against his belly. Elizabeth’s breath hitched. It was perfect. Substantial. Promising. He climbed onto the bed, crushing rose petals beneath his knees, the scent intensifying. He knelt between her spread thighs, his gaze raking over the intricate black straps framing her wetness.
“Jesus, Elizabeth,” he breathed, leaning down. “You look…”
“Like a desperate slut?” she finished for him, a sharp, challenging edge to her voice. She reached up, grabbing a handful of his hair, pulling his face down towards her exposed cunt. “Then treat me like one. Taste how fucking wet I am for you. How long I’ve waited.”
He needed no further urging. His mouth descended, hot and hungry, covering her. His tongue, broad and insistent, laved her slit from bottom to top, swirling around her clit. Elizabeth cried out, a sharp, ragged sound that echoed off the panelled walls. Her hips jerked upwards, grinding against his face. “Yes! Oh god, yes! Like that! Fucking eat me!”
He groaned against her, the vibration sending electric shocks through her core. His tongue plunged inside her, fucking her with it, then retreated to flick rapidly over her swollen clit. He sucked it into his mouth, applying delicious pressure. Elizabeth writhed, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him harder against her. “Deeper! Don’t stop! Oh fuck, Rupert! Make me come!”
He obeyed, burying his face deeper, his nose pressing against her mound, his tongue working relentlessly inside her and against her clit. The sensations overwhelmed her – the rough scrape of his stubble on her inner thighs, the hot suction, the insistent pressure. Her orgasm built swiftly, a tight coil low in her belly. She bucked wildly against his mouth, her cries escalating, sharp and desperate. “Oh! Oh god! Fuck! FUCK! I’m coming! Rupert!”
She shattered, her body convulsing, her cunt clenching rhythmically around his probing tongue. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed through her, leaving her gasping, trembling, her grip on his hair loosening. Rupert kept licking, gentler now, drawing out the aftershocks until she pushed his head away weakly. “Enough… enough…”
He lifted his face, his lips and chin slick with her juices, his eyes dark with lust. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, breathing heavily. Elizabeth pushed herself up onto her elbows, her chest heaving. She looked utterly ravaged already, her hair mussed, her skin flushed, the black straps digging in. Her gaze dropped to his cock, still rigid, glistening with a drop of pre-come at the tip.
“My turn,” she rasped. She hooked a leg over his shoulder, pulling him down beside her. “Lie back.”
Rupert obeyed, settling onto the crushed petals. Elizabeth straddled his face, lowering her dripping cunt onto his mouth. “Clean yourself off me,” she commanded, grinding down. He groaned, his hands coming up to grip her hips, his tongue immediately seeking her out again. She braced her hands on his chest, riding his face, her head thrown back. The sensation was different now, more controlled, but still intensely pleasurable. She watched his cock bob against his stomach, thick and needy.
After a minute, she lifted herself slightly. “Enough.” She slid down his body, her slick thighs brushing against his. She positioned herself over his straining erection, the head brushing against her swollen folds. She reached behind her, grabbing his cock, guiding it. She looked him dead in the eyes, her own blazing with fierce hunger. “Now, Rupert. Fuck me like the desperate slut I am. Fuck me like Henry never could. Fuck me until I scream.”
She sank down onto him in one smooth, relentless motion. He was thick, stretching her deliciously, filling the aching emptiness completely. A guttural moan tore from both their throats. Elizabeth threw her head back, her eyes closing briefly at the overwhelming sensation of being utterly filled. Finally. She began to move, rising and falling, taking him deep.
“Harder,” she gasped, her hands braced on his chest. “Fuck me harder!”
Rupert’s hands clamped onto her hips, fingers digging into the flesh above the satin straps. He thrust upwards to meet her downward plunge. The slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, punctuated by Elizabeth’s sharp cries and Rupert’s ragged grunts. The rose petals flew, crushed beneath their frantic movements.
“Yes! Oh god, YES!” Elizabeth screamed, her voice raw. She leaned forward, her breasts swaying above him, her nails scraping his skin. “Fuck this old cunt! Pound it! Make it yours! Harder! Deeper!”
Rupert’s eyes were glazed, lost in the primal rhythm, the tight, wet heat enveloping him. He pistoned his hips upwards, driving into her with increasing force. Elizabeth met every thrust, grinding down onto him, taking him impossibly deep. The bed frame groaned in protest against the relentless pounding.
“The tray!” Elizabeth gasped, pausing for a second, her body trembling with the effort. She pointed towards the rosewood tray Henry had meticulously prepared. “Condom! Now! I want you to come inside me!”
Rupert groaned, a sound of pure frustration and need, but he obeyed. He lifted her off him with surprising strength, the sudden emptiness making Elizabeth whimper. He scrambled off the bed, his cock jutting angrily. He snatched a foil packet from the tray, his fingers trembling as he ripped it open. Elizabeth watched, panting, her cunt throbbing, slickness dripping down her inner thighs onto the ruined petals. She saw the small black vibrator tucked behind the lubricant – Henry’s ‘secret promise’. Later.
Rupert rolled the condom down his length with clumsy haste. He grabbed the bottle of lubricant, squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, and slicked the latex-covered shaft. Elizabeth spread her legs wider, beckoning him back with a crook of her finger. “Hurry! Fuck me!”
He was back on her in an instant, pushing her legs up and apart, hooking her knees over his elbows. He drove into her with one brutal thrust. Elizabeth screamed, arching off the bed. This position allowed him deeper penetration, each powerful stroke hitting her cervix. The sound was obscene – wet, slapping, rhythmic.
“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” Elizabeth chanted, her voice breaking on each word. She clawed at the sheets, her head thrashing side to side. The ancestors seemed to glare down with renewed disapproval. She didn’t care. “Ruin me! Break me! Fill that condom! Oh god, your cock! So fucking hard! Pound my slutty hole!”
Rupert was beyond words, reduced to animalistic grunts. Sweat slicked his chest and back. He hammered into her, his hips a relentless piston, the muscles in his arms and shoulders corded with strain. Elizabeth met his fury with her own, pushing back against him, milking his cock with her inner muscles, screaming her pleasure into the opulent room. The fire crackled, casting frantic shadows that danced on the walls like lewd spectators.
She felt her second orgasm detonate, sharper, more intense than the first. It ripped through her, a white-hot explosion that tore a ragged, wordless shriek from her throat. Her cunt clenched violently around his invading cock, triggering his own release. Rupert roared, a sound ripped from his gut, as he slammed into her one final time, burying himself to the hilt. His body shuddered violently as he emptied himself into the condom deep inside her.
He collapsed forward, panting heavily, his weight pressing her into the crushed petals and damp sheets. His cock pulsed within her, still encased in latex. Elizabeth lay beneath him, utterly spent, her body humming with residual tremors, the scent of sex and roses thick in the air. She could feel the warm bulge of the filled condom inside her. A slow, satisfied smile spread across her sweat-slicked face. She tilted her head, her ear towards the wall adjoining Henry’s dressing room. Silence. Beautiful, humiliated silence.
Rupert lifted his head, his eyes dazed. He brushed sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “Christ, Elizabeth…”
She traced a finger down his spine, sticky with sweat. Her voice was a low, sated purr. “Don’t speak. Just breathe.” She shifted slightly beneath him, feeling the satisfying stretch, the lingering throb. “We’re not nearly finished.” Her gaze flicked towards the rosewood tray, towards the lubricant and the sleek black vibrator. “Henry prepared everything so thoughtfully. It would be rude not to use it all.”