That night
She had been annoyed at having been peremptorily dragged from a delicious meal at the elite restaurant because her lover was growing jealous of the looks she was getting.
Turning to him, dimpling mischievously her curvaceous body visible through the near transparent night shirt, she had shaken her head firmly.
“No, I want to look at the moon.’ she declared impishly and tilted her chin obstinately, turning her back on him deliberately, goading him although she knew he was aroused.
He had said in a harsher tone,
“Woman, get here or I shall f*ck the sh*t out of you, on the balcony.’
She had erupted in giggles, clearly disbelieving.
Feeling as though she was challenging him with her firm refusal to obey him, he had walked out on to the balcony, shirtless, his c*ck prominently erect and stiff. She needed to be taught a lesson.
When he approached her and kissed her hungrily, she had melted in his arms, thinking that as always, they would return to the bedroom behind him. But he had swiftly turned her about, easing her out of her night shirt. The gasp of horror his Woman had given as she stood, cowering and naked, her large breasts trembling, the nipples peaking at the sudden cold, had further aroused him. The soft triangle of curls at the junction of her thighs, visible in the moonlight, had awakened a primitive urge in him and he had been almost savage in his lovemaking . He had jerked her around so that she was forced to grab the balustrade for balance.
“Lucien, NO!’ she hissed fiercely but he had laughed cruelly and sank his teeth into her soft shoulder and she had whimpered, protesting.
‘Next time, think of the consequences before challenging me, woman,’ he snarled, biting her earlobe for emphasis.
They were on the twenty fifth floor and not really visible to anyone below them but when the moon moved out from behind the clouds, illuminating her shape, he felt a surge of lust, primitive and raw, shoot through his loins.
His hand snaked to her clit as he worked her up into an unwilling frenzy, alternately slipping two thick fingers into her c*nt, feeling himself becoming rock hard as she trembled and tried to protest. He raised a hard hand and slapped her round a*s cheek, making her yelp.
‘You belong to me, baby and I will f*ck you whenever I want, however I wish,” he growled and slapped her a*s cheek again for emphasis, “This here is my private breeding party where I fill you with my c*m, where You will be f*cked till you beg for mercy.’
Her body quivered in obedience, and she felt the squirt of her juices as she anticipated his punishment.
Then he had held her by her waist as he thrust suddenly, fiercely, into her wet pussy, shafting upwards into her welcoming womb which was now dripping with her juices as she sobbed softly.
‘Someone will see us, Lucien, please, let us go inside,’ she begged softly but he was in a wild mood, the drink had gone to his head. That and the desire in some sick way, of making everyone know that she was His Possession.
*
As he shafted his thick length into her, aware of her panting as she rose on her toes to face each onslaught, he became more aroused as he knew that anyone looking up from the street below would see him f*cking his wife, would see his hands on her large tits, squeezing and fondling roughly, might hear the vulgar obscenities he was growling.
He gripped a fist of her hair, tugging her head and whispered hoarsely in her ears,
“Say it, c*nt, you are Mine.’
She sobbed at the vulgar words he used but he pinched her nipple hard, rolling it painfully and felt her muscles spasm around his thick member as she shuddered and cried out,
“I am …yo…yours, Master.’
‘Say it, he grunted, turned on by her utter helplessness,
‘Say that You are my b*tch to breed.”
She was panting as she whimpered,
“Sir, I a.. am…Your…b.. b*tch…,” and then she was stifling a scream as she came, exploding.
She was exploding with a strong orgasm, one of many that he took her through that night. She was almost bent over the balcony, her naked upper body on view to anyone who happened to look up and the thought stimulated his lust in a sick way.
Fuelled by drink, his c*ck was ramrod stiff and not easily pleasured. When he finally emptied his load in her, she was a quivering wet mass, the wetness trickling down her thighs, as he commanded her using the coarse language he slipped into when he was deeply aroused,
“Cover my c*ck with your pus*y juices, you horny little b*tch,’ he panted, hammering into her, turned on by her moans, ‘Come on, suck my c*ck wh*re, suck it hard with your sl*t pu*sy. The way you suck my c*ck with your mouth.’
And he sank his teeth into her shoulder, an arm supporting her around the waist, another hand on her full breast, pinching her thick teat that was sore and tender from his brutal ministrations.
She moaned and he felt the heat sizzle between them.
He pounded her, his heavy balls slapping her thighs, the coarse hairs around his c*ck abrasive against her soft flesh. There was something erotic about the sound of his balls slapping her flesh and her helpless gasps each time he rammed into her, he thought; he growled in passion, his chest hair damp with sweat as he used her to pleasure himself now, his big body bent over hers, intent on his needs. She was balancing herself on her arms, trying to stifle her cries, knowing that there were people around them although their suite was a penthouse one. Anyone who looked up would see her, bent over the railing, naked, being ferociously f*cked, her large breasts wobbling frantically. Biting her lip, Proserpina threw her head back, as she clenched her eyes shut and allowed her body to carry her into yet another pleasurable orgasm.
Reaching around, Lucien took a thick tormented nipple between his finger and thumb and tweaked it punishingly, making her give a hoarse sob as she bucked her hips uncontrollably, totally under his control.
Tightening his muscular arm around her waist, he cried hoarsely, nearly at the end of his limit now,
” Drain my c*ck, wh*re. NOW.’
Her breasts wobbled wildly as she obeyed him, squeezing his thick manhood in a frenzy and he let out a shout as he felt his balls tighten and he came, a white, blinding white light behind his eyelids as he erupted, his teeth sinking into her soft flesh, making her moan. She trembled, her body aching but a feeling of floating came over her at the same time. She sagged back into his arms, her legs trembling, unable to hold herself up.
Ah, but f*cking this woman was pure ecstasy, he thought as he ejected his seed into her willing womb, clasping her tired body to his. When he rode her, the pleasure he got was unmatched.
‘I love you woman,’ he mumbled roughly.
Then he was sinking to the floor, taking her down with him and they lay, spent for some time on the cool marble before he gently lifted her and carried her inside to clean her with a wash cloth.
*
Later, she gazed at him reproachfully, ‘What if someone had seen us, Lucien?’ she pouted, sulkily as she lay, too tried to move, her nipples red and swollen from his onslaught.
He grunted and took her lips murmuring as he rolled onto her, preparing for another round of ravishing her, lowering his head to her firm nipples as she whimpered in protest.
” I care sh*t, Woman. I was f*cking what belongs to me.’
But Proserpina was not mollified. Turning her head into the pillow, her voice muffled, almost close to tears, though her treacherous body was already responding to his touch, she went on,
‘Don’t ever do that to me again. It is not all about sex, Lucien. You need to love, to respect me as a person and I felt…’
For the first time, he felt regret.
Penitently, he resolved never to put her through that again.
*
The next morning, when he was thinking clearly, he made gentle love to her, to apologise for what he had done the previous night.
But Lucien knew he had enjoyed f*cking her on the open balcony.
And he would do that to her again.
*
Now
The child must have been conceived then, he reflected as he reached down and moved a swatch of mahogany-coloured hair that had fallen over her face. She had been taken ill with a bad stomach the next day and she had been on medicines for a week.
*
Schwartz was in the dining room, sipping coffee and studying his phones, dressed to leave. He raised his brows when he met Lucien’s fierce face.
“Proserpina?’ he asked immediately, his expression shifting and Lucien sighed. The man had a deep love for his Woman. He could sense if something was off with her.
He grunted and indicated the study. Bellowing over his shoulder as he went he ordered t Beatrice to prepare the breakfast, and once in I study, he wasted no time in filling Schwartz in on what had happened the previous night.
‘I do not want the children to know,’ he added, knowing that there would be no stopping Claude. Piers and Ria would settle scores in an intelligent manner; Claude would rush in like an enraged bull.
Schwartz nodded, but his expression was grim.