Nineteen

“Lie down, Adalene.”
The command made her shiver and tingle all over in a pleasurable way. She wiped the wetness from her mouth with the back of her hand as she followed his order, lying on her back and waiting until he reached her.
The Baron kissed her mouth. It did not start tender. He was hungry and aggressive, and she liked this somehow. She fought his kiss with her own hungry kiss, opening her mouth, dueling with his tongue, and sucking hard when he did. She gasped, though, in both panic and excitement, when she heard him tear her gown in the middle. But she was not afraid. He raised his head, and the expression of undiluted desire on his face as he looked down at her exposed nakedness chased the panic away.
“Beautiful... you’re so beautiful, Adalene.”
“Yes... you make me feel beautiful, Fabian,” she moaned. She wanted him to feel lust for her. She watched his head go down on her exposed breasts, and she would go crazy if he stopped.
Then his tongue flicked and stroked her nipple, and she gasped. He took it whole inside his mouth and he sucked, and she understood why he writhed and his back left the bed when electric shock went through her body, again and again, following each flick of his tongue and each suckling, and her spine arched towards his mouth. His other hand cupped her other breast and started to knead it like it was dough being kneaded for the oven, and she threw her head back as his rough hand and his insistent mouth stimulated her into a higher plane. His knees pushed at her knees until she opened her thighs for him, and as he suckled at her breasts like a hungry man, alternating between them, kneading her soft, round flesh until she felt pain with pleasure, his rock-hard cock began to rub at her center. She was already soaking wet, and her juice carried to her little bud, making the rub slick and thoroughly stimulating.
It was making her go mad.
“Oohhhh, Fabian..!” she cried out loudly. It felt so good. There was nothing else in her memory that felt like it. She moaned in pleasure. His hand traveled north and he lifted her hips. His hand replaced his cock and explored her more insistently until the shock of that electric heatwave zinged throughout her body, overwhelming everything else.
She tensed, flinched and every time his fingers went in and out of her wet, soaking slit. His palm rubbed against her sensitive bud and the folds of her sex, and the sensations generated were most glorious. His mouth started to travel down her body, leaving her breasts exposed and barren. But her whole body was intensely electrified when he buried his face between her thighs.
“Oh... oh, oh, ohhhhh!” she cried as his tongue stroked and flicked, rolling the tiny flesh between the folds he now pushed apart with his fingers. And then he slid those fingers inside her again, pushing while she raised herself, offering him as much as she could. “Fabiaaan... I... oohhhh... ahhh!”
The explosion, the release, came suddenly and powerfully, and she screamed.
“Uuuungggghhh-ooohhhh!” She cried out, her whole body bucking on the bed as he held her torso in place with his hands and his mouth sucked hard at her as if summoning that impossible force that had taken hold of her, that which felt like liquid fire that consumed her whole body until she felt like she had lost and yet regained her whole being.
She collapsed on the bed afterward.
He raised his head, his lips and around it glistening with her juice, and he smiled at her.
“Fabian...!” she gasped. It wasn’t this powerful in the riverbed... she could swear. Not even when she played with herself that afternoon. It wasn’t like this in the dining hall. It was too intense.
He climbed over her and placed himself between her thighs. “Yes, *ma bichette*?” he replied.
“Oohhh, that was... I can’t believe it was...” But she could feel his cock, its head slowly opening hers. As he hooked his hands on her thighs to open her as wide as he could, her eyes locked with his.
He looked serious.
It was time.
His cock pierced her then, and because she was so wet, his passage was almost without resistance up to the point when he had to force himself in—and ripped something.
He was inside, all of him, completely inside her, stretching her and gagging her. He had done it.
That painful and forceful entry felt like being pierced by a knife inside. There was sudden, searing pain and she was gasping as tears made their way down her temples.
“Fa-Fabian!” she cried.
He held her head and he kissed her open mouth, deep and hard and passionately, until the desire to sob passed away. Then he moved while her whole body was still very tense, expecting more pain. The stinging pain, still acute, mingled with something else as stretched inner muscles accommodated his thickness.
She bit at her lower lip and closed her eyes tightly, determined not to cry out again. The more he moved—sliding in and out of her steadily, letting her get accustomed to him, stretching her to her fullest—the more it stung. And she wanted to sob out and push him away.
But another sensation was mingling now with the pain, conquering other sensations in a way that intensified that curious feeling. His repeated penetration got quicker and rougher, but she found herself not crying but getting carried away. And she was moaning again. Rough and painful, and yet... and yet...
She found herself moving to an instinctive rhythm that matched his movement and his roughness. As their bodies sweated and slid against each other, as their breaths caught and held when they kissed hard, as her juices made his thrusts deeper and fuller and faster, it gathered and built again... that curious pressure that felt like the only purpose to her existence.
It gathered like a storm, and when she came, the waves were strongest, and she was thrown farther into an ecstatic abyss that she never thought could be possible.
She flew with the stinging wind, even as she lay there engulfed and trapped in the Baron’s heat, in his passionate embrace, being wrapped by his guttural groan...
It was only in the aftermath that she remembered the other details of her deflowering.
She remembered his cries mingling with hers when pleasure was so intense and almost unbearable that she wasn’t aware of anything else. She remembered his powerful body writhing against her when he suffered his own release, his cock buried deep in her. She was awed to realize that she could do this even as he was a big man, incredibly powerful, and so virile.
The place where their skin joined was soaked with their juices and with blood. With the red stain on her inner thighs and on the white silk sheets on the bed, a seal that declared her deflowering was concluded.
And so this was how it was, that blood and incredible sex showed Adalene how to be powerful, and completely, a woman—something she was sure she would never have discovered had she been in her real husband’s bed that night.