He raised the papier-mâché slowly to reveal his face to her. Those beautiful lips, that strong nose, and his glittering eyes focused on her so intently. It was him. This was real.
And now their game could truly begin.
***
When Marianne turned on her heel and raced away from him, deeper into the forest, Frederick felt his heart leap unexpectedly.
Oh, he wanted to fuck her most thoroughly, but it was her willingness to play with him and indulge their shared primal pleasures that gave him the greatest satisfaction. She was his match, his duchess in every way.
She wasn’t wrong about the need for shoes here; he’d pay the price for the stones and branches underfoot as he chased his bride in her streaming white gown. Yet the scrapes only strengthened his resolve to give her some delicious pain so they might lick their wounds together before making more.
His cock bobbed between his thighs, slapping at one side then the other until it grew hard from the sensation and adrenaline from the chase. He hoped she was wet and ready; he wouldn’t be able to resist taking her roughly the moment she was under his control.
And then his world went sideways: she was glancing back when she slipped and went crashing to the ground.
***
The air disappeared from Marianne’s lungs before she knew what had happened. Trying to breathe again, she sprawled on the dirt with a bunch of leaves in her hands.
She saw Frederick rip the mask from his face and crouch beside her, his expression wild as he felt all over her prone form to check for injuries.
“Are you well?”
At last, she could draw a breath. She nodded, feeling her body come alive again as she drew in great gulps of air.
He gathered her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. “God, Marianne.”
His chest was warm, smelling lightly of his sweat and traces of the cologne he favored. The feel of his skin made her belly flip as she recalled the purpose of this evening’s chase.
She brought a hand to his hair, always so precisely arranged, but now disheveled from his mask and their game. It was soft and thick, the perfect length for tugging so she might draw him near for a kiss.
When they parted, Frederick was also out of breath. “Marianne…”
The notes of longing and desire in his voice set her body aflame. She laid a hand on his abdomen and then slid it down and down until she felt the wiry hair that surrounded his cock.
He was hard now, fully susceptible to his wife’s comely charms despite his fear just minutes before. She brushed her hands on her ruined dress and then brought them to his straining prick, earning her a groan.
“You’ve just suffered an injury.”
It was a whine, a plea. He might dominate her in the forest, but she was not without her own sort of control and mastery. In response, she stroked him harder.
“But I can’t…”
She worked his shaft, showing him just how disinterested she was in his attempts to end their game prematurely.
“If you insist on continuing, I won’t be soft with you,” he ground out.
“I don’t want you to be.”
“Then get on your knees and present your cunt for my use,” said Frederick.
She scrambled up from his arms, but rather than assuming the position he’d ordered, she crawled on the dirt as if trying to get away from him.
“You think to evade my dominion over this forest?” he asked in a towering voice behind her. “You might make it a few feet, but I’ll make you take every inch in the end.”
She nearly stopped her escape then, just to feel him take her sooner. Frederick was a surprising mix of commanding and gentle. It was no wonder she’d fallen deeply in love with him.
In love with him. She was in love with her husband. She paused as the wonderful feeling of realization overtook her.
