Bonnie crawled into bed behind her and let his hand drift up her backside, then up her back, until her nightgown bunched up.
“Please take this off,” he said, feeling her skin as she struggled to get the monstrosity removed.
“You don’t need to—” she said.
He turned Molly towards him, showing the power of his body that he usually never revealed.
“You have requested aid with insemination,” he said. “Your terms did not dictate how the insemination would be accomplished. I think you’ll be more likely to find success if you allow me to dictate the proceedings.”
Molly nodded and slumped against him, suddenly feeling every moment of lost sleep, grief, and anger.
“I don’t know another way to do it,” she said quietly. “William—”
Bonnie swooped in and kissed her hard on the mouth.
“I don’t want to hear his name while I’m in your bed making his baby,” said Bonnie. “He already received more than he deserves. Lie down on the bed, head on the pillow.”
Molly rushed to comply, pulling the blankets up to cover her naked body.
“That’s fine,” said Bonnie, pulling the corner of a blanket down to reveal one breast. “I like unwrapping presents.”
“Babies aren’t made from breasts,” she said, anxious to get the proceedings underway, anxious that he’d evade her demand in the end.
“Slick pussies are made from playing with tits,” he said crudely, “and wet cunts accept cocks like a dream. I want to slide into your welcoming hole and shoot my seed deep, and I can’t do that if you’re nervous and dry.”
“But I’ve been wet since downstairs,” she said.
“I sure hope you’re wet downstairs,” he growled, teasing her nipple.
Bonnie pulled back the blanket and trailed his fingers over Molly’s body — illuminated only by a weak candle and a sliver of moonlight — until he found the slit between her thighs.
“Wait,” she said, tugging at his dreadful borrowed nightgown that once belonged to William. “Take this off. I want to touch you.”
He flopped onto the bed beside her and wiggled out of the voluminous gown. Now he faced her, sharing the large pillow, his smooth chest just visible in the scant light.
“Now that you have me naked, what are you going to do, Breechess?” he asked.
Molly placed her fingertips on his unblemished skin and moved them over his sternum and down to his ribs.
“I want to see it,” she whispered.
“Do you now?” he asked. Better and better. “And by ‘it’ you mean?”
“Your cock,” she said, groaning at his goading.
“That’s right. Do your worst, madam,” he said, pushing the blankets entirely off of the bed.
“You know,” she said, “I’ve wondered about your cock for some time.”
“Have you? Well, don’t be shy, introduce yourself,” he said, slightly spreading his thighs.
“I remember the day I met you,” she said lightly, drawing her nails up his thighs. “I was performing the final tailoring check on Lord Peter Sidwin, and you entered the shop.”
“Sidwin? That pink togged in twig, member of the Maccaroni Club?” he asked as if he hadn’t known the man since boyhood.
“Yes, and you walked right up to him, your cock level with my eyes, and you put your quizzing glass under my chin to raise my head,” she said.
“You looked up with an open mouth and your lips just a little swollen,” he said, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip now. “It gave a man ideas.”
