Mona couldn’t hold back anymore. She came with a cry, muscles going wild all around Spencer’s fingers buried deep inside her. He swore violently as she came, seemingly shocked by the force of her orgasm. Slowly her eyes opened and she looked at him, blinking and spent.
"Scotland,” she said. "Let’s be married in Scotland.”
Her mother would have approved this match.
"Lovely little girl,” Spencer said, smiling. "Though it’ll kill me, I won’t stick my cock in you until after the ceremony if only so we can tell our children someday how their mother and father waited till marriage. They won’t need to know I kidnapped you and forced you to marry me the day we met.”
"Our little secret,” she said. She would never tell Spencer they’d met once before, made love once before. To him it was nothing but a dream, but she knew. She and Malcolm knew. Their little secret…
"You’re going to make me a marvelous countess, I can already tell,” he said, tenderly caressing her swollen clitoris under her skirt. "A fine lady by day, a better whore by night. My whore.”
"Your whore,” she said, sighing. Spencer kissed her again and she let him. Why not? She was his now and always would be. This is what Malcolm planned, this is what he wanted to bring about, and in a day or two it would be done. Malcolm wanted her to have his heir, he had said, and now she would indeed have his heir—she would have Spencer for a husband and Spencer would have her for his lover and his slave. She would have Spencer’s children, the next heirs. And Mona, the whore, would reign as the Countess of Godwick.
From inside his frame, the portrait of Malcolm smiled.
Or was it a smirk?
* * *
The End.