Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

the rush of pleasure surging through her.
    Involuntarily she squeezed her thighs together, making Raven laugh.
    It was a strange laugh, barely recognizable as laughter, being low and harsh, coming like a rumble from deep within him.
    “Please stop,” she gasped from between tight lips. “Please.”
    “Do you hate my touch?” his eyes narrowed. “Do I disgust you?”
    “No, no,” she whispered. “But we are not yet married, my lord. It is not proper. Anyone could walk in. The footman will be back in a few moments, please, I beg you to stop.”
    Raven took his hand from her breast and before she could breathe a sigh of relief he lifted the hem of her gown just as he had done in the carriage, but this time he reached quickly for the ties at her waist and pulled on the bow. Her pantaloons fell away easily and Raven’s hand made contact with the naked flesh between her warm thighs.
    “My lord!” Evangeline began to push at his hand.
    Raven’s long fingers slid deep between her thighs, cupping her mound. “Lovely warm little pussy,” he whispered. Evangeline 54
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    thought she might die any minute. No man had ever touched her thus.
    It occurred to her with a great pang of regret that she had always assumed she would wed a man she loved, a man with her own interests, a handsome, young man of her own age who would court her for a full year before proposing on one knee.
    She looked at Raven with his yellow eyes, his sleek, black hair trailing halfway down his back, his face pale and gaunt, angular cheekbones jutting out, and she shivered.
    “Are you cold?”
    “I am, yes. May I get up?”
    “No.” Raven began to move the heel of his hand slowly and in circular motion against her mound. She moaned as a flood of warmth seeped slowly through her cunt. Color flooded her face. She wanted him to stop, and yet she didn’t. The sensations he induced with such ease were addictive. Evangeline gave up and allowed her head to fall against his shoulder. “That’s it,” he said. “Give yourself to me.”
    Evangeline looked down at Raven’s hand pressed against her light public hair, massaging slowly and surely. With his other hand he held her skirts up out of the way, leaving her pale thighs frighteningly naked. “Open wider, my dear.”
    Evangeline obeyed. She could do nothing else. Watching as if in a dream, she parted her thighs, spreading herself open for her lord.
    Moisture began to seep from between her nether lips as they thickened and grew more sensitive. “You’ll like this.” Raven dipped his head, resting it against her own. He slid his forefinger deep into her wet warmth, high up inside her. The hand that held her gown up dropped it and slid behind and underneath her, drawing away her clothing until he gripped her bare buttocks. His long, thin hand, cool against her buttocks, and his finger probing between them was all too much. The sensations built so fast and so furiously that Evangeline prayed she would soon experience the same release she had in the carriage.
    When Raven drew his finger from her cunt she wanted cry out for Sanguinarian 55
    him to put it back, but he did not withdraw it completely. He slid it up between her plump nether lips. “There it is,” he said.
    “What?” The word was a barely-audible sigh.
    “This.” Swiftly, with the tip of his finger, Raven swept a fast circular motion against the small button between the lips while circling his other finger around the rosebud between her buttocks. A long moan escaped her as the pressure built swiftly, climbing, filling her tense body with unexplainable sensations. The climax he drew from her was greater than before, fiery, overwhelming. Evangeline arched her back and clenched her buttocks and thighs rhythmically, wringing the pleasure from her body. When she could take no more she fell limp against him, panting hard. “How was that?” he asked.
    “Did you like that?”
    “Yes, my lord,” she whispered.
    “I will give you pleasure such as you have only dreamed of. No ordinary man will make you feel as I do.”
    At last she began to recover, tying the ribbon on her drawers, making herself respectable. Raven released her, allowing her to stand.
    Free at a last, she moved quickly away from him and stood close to the hearth. Raven rose and took a great heavy log in one hand, tossing it easily into the fire. “Are you warm enough?” he asked when the dry wood caught and blazed up high. He moved quickly away from the