Thirty-Two

ODETTE and Olivie helped her get dressed. She was ready when the Baron entered her bedchamber to collect her. He was in casual finery this evening except for the luxurious surcoat that bore the cote of arms of their province.
He went to her and kissed her, even with Odette and Olivie still there. The two women quickly disappeared.
“I missed you last night,” Fabian said. His voice was gentle, but the look in his eyes was alert.
She smiled up at him. “Didn’t you have a good time with the other lords?”
“Some of them are close friends, yes. But I still missed you.”
She sighed. “How could you miss me? I am not your betrothed or your wife. I am not important.”
As soon as she’d said that, she wanted to take them back.
But then he was kissing her again... hungrily and passionately, and she was instantly so consumed by it that when he stopped, she had melted into him and was as breathless as he was.
“You are important, Adalene. *Tu me manques*. It is what it is. You must know.”
Only in his bed, she thought. She knew this. She reached for his manhood, secured inside his garments, and he hissed as soon as her hand began to massage the already hard shaft under his clothes. She smiled at him and then worked to get him out.
She was on her knees, hungry to taste him in the next instant. He was so hard and veiny, so thick and warm in her hand as she held him. He sucked in a hard breath as her lips circled his cock’s head, and then she slowly slid him inside her mouth... going shallow at first. He was big, but she pumped him gently with her hand as she took him slowly, sucking him, flicking her tongue at his head until she could bring him to the back of her throat. He was breathing heavily, his hand gently caressing one of her cheeks. She looked up at him as she did this, finding a heady sense of satisfaction at how aroused and intimate he appeared as he shared her look.
She applied more pressure, sliding him in and out in time with his heavy breathing. The harder and thicker he became, the more Adalene enjoyed what she was doing. She wanted him, but she wanted this, too. She found that one of the things she felt excited about doing for him was this.
“Adalene... Adalene... I’m going to cum... wait—”
He suddenly hauled her to her feet, and then she found herself facing the desk as his hands found their way under her skirts. He was down on his knees, under the layers of clothes, and that would have been a funny sight until she felt him tear a part of her undergarments to find his way to her cunt.
He had a habit of tearing anything she had that hampered his way to her cunt.
“Oh! Oohhh!” she moaned, leaning down on the desk as he parted her thighs and his mouth found the source of her heat. He held her thighs as he ate her from behind. Her eyes rolled as his tongue delved inside her over and over while his fingers opened her folds and his thumb rubbed at her button. “Oohhhh, Fabian!” she moaned again when she felt him suck at her cunt before he let go.
Her layers of skirts were bunched up her back when he finally pierced her. He went in, full and strong and thick, stretching her beyond gratification. She whimpered as she felt him nudge the opening to her womb. He was so deep inside her, and she was desperate for him.
He withdrew and pushed inside her again. A small cry left Adalene’s lips. And then nothing felt as satisfying when he began to deliberately pound into her. His breathing was shallow as he kissed her shoulders and her neck, the side of her face, and her ear. The promise of release called on them both at once.
“*Ma bichette*... ohh... I’m so near...”
“So am... I!” And her climax pulsed through her body like it was escaping a breaking dam. He continued to pound on her, stroke upon hard stroke before he grunted. His cock pumped into her very being, pulsing hot fire as he ground his climax against her.
He collapsed on her back as she hugged the desk, brushing soft kisses on her cheek and the side and back of her neck as their breathing mingled in a crazy duet. Then he laughed, low and intimate, near her ear.
“That was exquisite, ma chérie,” he whispered, his voice still rough, still heavy with arousal. “And you smell so good.”
Her eyes were closed. “Oh yes, it was...” she whispered.
He stood up. As her skirts went down around her, his seed flowed down her inner thighs. He had turned her to him. “What’s the matter?” he asked, concerned, his eyes searching her face, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and flushed neck.
“You’re going to be married to Lady Veronique Moranville!” she cried miserably. “The duke and your great aunt had arranged it a long time ago.”
He frowned at her as he fixed himself. “And where have you heard this? I want to talk to this person who told you.”
“I’m sorry!” she gasped. She did not want to put the servants into trouble with the Baron. “That was presumptuous of me. I have no right to your affairs. I am only your servant.”
He looked impatient. “You are aware of Lady Veronique, then?”
She sighed. “It is hard not to. People let me hear them talk. She wants you.” *And she is an aristocrat. She will surely have you.*
He was grinning. “Do I detect jealousy in your voice, *ma bichette*?”
Her eyes grew wide as she stared at him. “My Lord, of course not! I have no right to get jealous. I am only your mistress, remember?”
His eyebrows rose. “Mistress? Hmm. If you believe yourself a mistress, Adalene, then you have a right to tantrums and whatever maladies a woman feels when her position is threatened.” He pulled her to him and kissed her mouth tenderly before continuing. “Clearly, you have no idea what favors being a mistress gives you.”
She opened her mouth, but she had nothing to say. He was right, she did not know anything about what a mistress did or felt.
She lowered her eyes. “Will you teach me?”
“I will never teach you that!”
She felt the anger in his voice, and she fell back.
But he caught her. He was looking at her face very intently. It was like he wanted to tell her something, but he held back. And then he seemed to make his mind up.
“You are free to be whatever you are, *ma bichette*. It is this that I love about you. I want what you are. If I’m going to teach you anything, it is to become more of that.”
“Baron... I don’t understand,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “We can’t talk about this now. We have to go down now and show ourselves. We will eat and dance a little.” He kissed her forehead, his look tender on her face. “It will be alright, *ma bichette*. I will not leave your side tonight.”
She worried what this would do to his reputation, to be down there with her. But she just nodded.