“But how could I, when your decrepit husband was hovering around?” he asked. “I wanted you for something very specific, and he was not letting you out of his sight.”
“It’s a bit funny then that his only chance of an heir is you impregnating me after his death,” said Molly.
“Or Lord Edward,” said Bonnie with equanimity.
“Were you truly at the molly house the night you came here?” she asked. “Or was that an elaborate ruse?”
Bonnie laughed. “Oh, I was there. I had no assurance that you’d open your door to me and I was wound so tight that I needed release before seeking you out.”
“You were seeking me out?” she asked.
Bonnie rolled her onto her back and placed his cock at her entrance. “Too sore?” he asked.
“Never,” she said. “Fill me.”
He slowly pushed into her pussy.
“I think my favorite way to fuck you is when you’ve already been filled and offer no resistance. I do love a well-used cunt,” he said, thrusting slowly.
Molly sighed as she luxuriated on the bed while her lover handled the hard work of pleasuring them both.
“I came to London for you,” he said. “I may have…ensured that the reception of my first sermon in Great Snoring would be frosty after I saw your husband’s obituary in the London paper.”
“You tossed away your position in order to pursue me?” she asked, shocked.
“To be fair, it wasn’t one to which I felt particularly attached,” he said.
“I have something that I need to confess,” she said reluctantly.
Bonnie paused his strokes.
“I have rather enjoyed this interlude,” she said. “The trying to fall pregnant. With you. Repeatedly. Having you here with me in the house and the shop. I even enjoyed inviting another man into the bed.”
“Did you now?” said Bonnie, picking up his thrusts.
“I did,” she said. “At times, I haven’t wanted it to end. Most of the time.”
Bonnie raised a noble brow.
“All of the time,” she confessed.
“Did you think I’d let you go?” he asked. “That I’d give you your husband’s baby and prance off to some other amusement?”
“I wouldn’t blame you,” she said. “It was I who asked that favor of you.”
“I told you before that this won’t be your last baby from me,” he said. “I plan to supervise your milk production and see that our child learns to live with style. Does that sound like a man coerced into impregnating you?”
“You meant that?” she asked. “It wasn’t just blarney in the moment of releasing your seed?”
“I am not so new to fucking that I lose my mind and paint pictures of the future without plans to follow through on them,” he said. “I am a scapegrace, not a rake.”
“I didn’t realize there was a difference,” she said, eyebrow raised.
“You’ll have time to learn it,” said Bonnie, planting a soft kiss on her open lips.
“You’ll truly be there, when the baby is born? Be here? When I work in trade?” she asked.
“Do I seem like a man fettered by the limitation of his social status?” asked Bonnie. “Now, set those worries aside and let us make one more attempt tonight at a baby.”
