Bertrice Small - Fascinated

She sighed a deep sigh of utter contentment and slowly opened her deep blue eyes. "Of course I am all right, Robert," she told him calmly. "Why would I not be? Ohh, my darling, that was the most marvelous fuck I have ever had! The bar is a bit uncomfortable on the middle, but it was all worth it. You do not, however, have to spank me to arouse me, although I will admit to you that the novelty of it was most stimulating." She reached up and stroked his cheek, her fingers toying mischievously with his mask. "You are a wonderful lover, Robert. Why do you allow the fact you have small funds to keep you from marrying? This estate is a wonderful place. I could live here the rest of my life, never again see London and be happy. Certainly there is some girl you might love who would do the same for you alone."

His heart almost broke. She could be happy here. She was happy here. He loved her, but he could not for honor's sake admit to it. "There is no one," he said stonily, and then he tipped her from his lap almost impatiently. "Put your gown back on, Lucinda. There is nothing more I can teach you. Go, and get dressed, and we will ride."

"When is the full moon?" she queried as she slid the night garment back over her naked body. It had to be near, she knew, for she had been watching the waxing of the moon each night from her window

"In three days' time, my pet," he told her.

Three days . She had three days left with him. Three days of this most glorious summer before she must participate in a ridiculous episode that she was actually dreading. She wasn't fearful of being made love to, but what her three suitors wanted of her wasn't love. It was revenge for making them the laughingstock of London society at last spring's season. She wished now she had never gone, except if she hadn't, she would never have met the man she now loved so desperately that she was almost tempted to admit her love to him. But she couldn't. If she did, and he reciprocated her feelings-and she suspected he might, for why else had he decided to save her- would it not give him great pain if his plan, whatever it was, didn't work? If she had to submit to the duke, the marquess, and Lord Bertram before a leering crowd of gentlemen? Lucinda had never felt nearer to crying in her entire life.

The next few days passed more quickly than she would have wanted. They spent the time together, riding out over the fields, now summer-weary. He showed her the ungelded male yearling that was being sent to Turkey. It was a beautiful young animal the same rich chestnut color as her hair. It snuffled an apple from her hand, its soft muzzle tickling her palm. At night they made passionate love together, but he still departed for his own chamber lest the temptation to see his face overcome her while he slept.

"You swear to me on your honor that you will come to London to the Whitley ball," she said. Then, "You can obtain an invitation, can't you, Robert?"

"My friend, Lord Bowen, will arrange it, my pet," he told her, kissing her brow. "Is it that important to you, Lucinda?"

"It is the most important thing in the world to me, Robert," she told him.

"Why?" he queried her, curious.

"You have played the role of The Master for the Devil's Disciples for several years now," she began. "You have said I am to be your last pupil no matter the consequences. I believe that indicates that you have a conscience of sorts, sir. You know what you have done is wrong. The rich and the powerful have no God-given rights to abuse the poor and the helpless. Not that that has ever stopped them, nor will it, I suspect, in years to come. If you can save me from the lustful desires of my three suitors tomorrow night, even if you cannot, I shall give them a public set-down in London such as they cannot imagine. Would you not like to be there for that, Robert? Is it not a fitting and a just end to your career as The Master?"

"They will find another man to play The Master," he said.

"Perhaps, but perhaps not. I intend using my brother, the good Bishop of Wellington, to dismantle the Devil's Disciples. If he does not, I shall expose him and his cronies to the

Archbishop of Canterbury, even if it means revealing my own shame. The Devil's Disciples shall abuse no more young women!" she finished firmly.

He burst out laughing, and then he kissed her soundly. "Lucinda, my pet, you swore to me that I should not master you, and by God, I have not! I cannot tell you how happy that makes me." Then he kissed her again, tumbling her onto her back with a chuckle. "I want to fuck you, my adorable little firebrand. Would you like that? A final fuck before I must send you back to London?"

"Come here to me, my wonderful master," Lucinda purred at him, drawing him down into the circle of her arms. "Ohh yes! That is very, very nice," she encouraged him as his lips and his tongue hungrily mouthed her lips, her straining throat, her breasts.

He suckled upon her nipples. He could almost taste sweetness from the hardened little nubs atop the soft mounds of her bosom. His lips moved down her torso, kissing, licking, nipping teasingly. She murmured encouragement to him. He nuzzled the wonderful dark, curly bush of curls atop her plump mound, sliding his long body down and between her milky white thighs. Her nether lips were already moist, a tiny pearl of silvery cum seeping from between them. He opened her tenderly and looked upon the rosy coral flesh for the first time. He had never used her in this fashion, for this was a lover's privilege, not a master's. Her little clit stood at attention, almost throbbing before his eyes. Bending forward, he began to lick it hungrily, then suck upon it.

Lucinda cried out with undisguised pleasure. Her fingers tangled themselves into his thick dark hair, kneading at his scalp desperately. "Oh, God, yes!" she sobbed. " Yes !" She felt his teeth gently grazing her, and she shuddered with delight.

Finally he could bear no more of their love play. Her nails were digging into his shoulders indicating her need, and his need was every bit as great. He pulled himself up and, slipping between her open legs, thrust his cock deep into her hot, wet love sheath, smiling as she sighed deeply beneath him. Slowly at first, and then more quickly he pistoned her, and Lucinda scored his back with her nails in her passion. Her teeth sank into his shoulder.

He was hard. His great cock probed deeply into her soft, yielding flesh. She sobbed with her need for him. This couldn't be the last time. It couldn't be. She wouldn't let it ! She tightened herself around him as if she could never let him go. He groaned, and she wrapped her legs about his torso, sobbing. She was going to be the best fuck he had ever had, and when her revenge was complete, she would marry him. And he would want her ! Then they came together in a blinding explosion of sensual delight that left them both half-conscious for several minutes afterward. / love you , Lucinda whispered in her heart, not knowing that he was silently whispering the same words to himself as his arms tightened about her comfortingly, and they slept.

When Lucinda awoke he was gone. The pillow where his head had rested was cold, but upon it lay a perfect white rose. She picked it up and smelled its heady fragrance, a smile upon her lips as she remembered their passion the night before. Now, however, it was morning. This night she would face her persecutors. Whatever happened, she would still triumph over them, but she hoped with all of her heart that she could be saved from their lust, which would be like a night jar washing over her and befouling her. But if he could not dissuade those three buffoons, they would live to regret their actions. That, Lucinda promised herself.

"Master says you are to have a nice bath, and then he has picked out the garments you will wear tonight," Polly told her mistress. "Ohh, just think, m'lady. Tomorrow we'll be on our way back to London!"