I suck him gently, only giving him a little sensation at a time. I can tell by the way he breathes that he is fighting back audible cries. I suck and lick until his cock is hard and swollen. Little spurts of seed occasionally fill my mouth but I purposefully keep him from going over the edge.
“Please,” he finally says. “Annabelle. I am—you must?—”
“Shh,” I say. “I will make it better.”
He moans at the absence of my mouth.
“No, no,” he protests.
I won’t torment him any longer. I bring my mouth back to his member and suck harder, tonguing the head with exquisite care.
“You are so good to me, Annabelle,” he whispers, his grip on my hair tightening, his entire body tense. “You take such good care of me.”
I have never been accused of such things. I am frustrated that he misunderstands me. But now is not the time to argue.
I take him deep into my mouth so that his cock brushes the back of my throat.
“I am going to—you are going to make me—” And then he is, jerking beneath me. His seed fills my mouth, sweet and pure just like him, and I swallow it.
I hate myself for it, but I glory in giving him such a gift. In how happy he is to accept it.
He stills beneath me, his fingers still intertwined in my hair. I relinquish him.
Once I am upright once more, I look down at him lying on the forest floor in his bed of ivy.
A mistake.
Because he is lovely beyond imagining.
His eyes look even greener against the backdrop of the ivy. His hair is disheveled, his face flushed to perfection, and his lips pink and parted.
“Annabelle,” he says, his gaze burning into me, his expression stunned. “That was—you are—I don’t even know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Alfred,” I say quietly, forcing myself to look away from him. “If you will recall, I have only led you to further sully your precious soul.”
“Annabelle,” he repeats, reaching for my hand.
I pull my hand away.
He is too perfect, too pure, for me. He is meant for another future. For a virgin bride who knows nothing of what they do together. I will dismiss him as soon as I am done enjoying him. No, once I know I’m with child.
My chest twinges uncomfortably at the thought. I imagine Alfred, in a few months or a few years, teaching some sweet young woman to take him deep into her throat. He will love her. She will be untouched and only his.
“Whatis wrong?”
I look back at him. His brow is furrowed.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “We should return to the Ludlows. I am afraid Victoria’s pig is lost for good.”
While I was looking away, he put himself back in his trousers, thank God. His cock is a sight I can no longer bear.
“You just looked so…melancholy. What were you thinking of?”
“It is nothing,” I say, looking back at him and his perplexed expression. “Come. We must go.”
He hesitates but then nods. To my surprise, he stands and offers his hand to me. I take it, and he pulls me to my feet.
However, he doesn’t relinquish my hand. He pulls me close so that we are touching. His arms are around me. I am cocooned by his chest and arms. I hate that I enjoy it.
