Chapter 76
As though determined to pour out all the passion he’d been holding back in one night, Aldrick clung to her body, pounding into her. His neck and shoulders, bruised from her biting, were already mottled red.
Just as o****m approached, Violet’s eyes flew open. Through her blurred vision she saw their entangled bodies, like mating snakes, in a wildly intimate dance.
Her legs spread wide, his engorged manhood drove in and out, his balls slapping against her, while her own p***y quivered around him.
In the mirror, his large hands kneaded and squeezed her b*****s as if to burst them. Though she thought him mad, Violet could not look away. Aldrick’s expression, lost in blind ecstasy, was unrecognizable.
The sight before her, the damp, e****c scent of their union, the wet thuds of flesh, Aldrick’s low, rumbling groans, the constant friction against her sensitive walls…
All her senses surged toward that peak. Though she felt she might faint, he made no move to relent.
“Uh—Aldrick, ahh, now—nngh, really, aaah, aaahhh!”
“Violet… Violet…”
Calling her name with such tenderness, he drove his most insistent finger into her over and over. Violet cried out as bliss erupted within her, a strobing rapture. The dam of sensation broke, and she was released.
She trembled in his arms, and he, too, met his climax with a final, shuddering thrust deep inside her.
Even in that pinnacle of pleasure, Violet thought dimly.
This—this really is…
…too much.
Even after a year apart, it’s excessive.
Her tense body slowly relaxed as the o****m faded, and she closed her eyes as consciousness slipped away.
***
What followed was literally a night on fire.
Reconnecting after so long, Aldrick seemed to lose himself entirely, in a different sense, than before.
Whenever Violet came to, he pounced on her again, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut once more.
The night stretched on endlessly. All she could remember was their tangled nakedness and her own voice, hoarse from moaning.
At first, the feel of his firm body against hers and his heat felt good.
But after two or three rounds, Violet began to tire. What once seemed bearable grew utterly exhausting.
“Stop… please, stop…”
She’d forgotten how relentlessly Aldrick pursued their lovemaking.
“If not now, when will we have such a chance? Back at the castle you’ll be busy with Rosetta…”
Lying face-down on the bed, her hips raised, Violet silently pleaded with him not to mention their daughter. But that thought scattered almost at once.
Her husband—still young and seemingly fitter than ever—showed no sign of slowing.
With each wet thrust and successive climax, Violet surrendered her consciousness again.
***
This routine repeated for three days.
On the first day, Violet admired the new, large, sturdy bed—yet they barely used it.
Like newlyweds ablaze, Aldrick sought her wherever they were: the kitchen counter, the flower beds, even the sitting room. Spotting his prey, he’d charge like a bear, and Violet longed to return to three days ago, when he’d clumsily pretended civility.
“When I first saw you back here after the war… you have no idea how shocked I was,” he growled, thrusting into her. “And you have no idea how much I wanted to hold you. I tried to act dignified, but every time I saw you…”
Despite his honeyed words, his lower half was merciless.
“I imagined making love to you anywhere like this.”
Breathless and desperate, Violet could not scold him, so long starved, each sensation overwhelmed her.
“It’s our last day, so maybe rest a bit, then go one more time?” Aldrick panted.
Violet, utterly spent, could only nod.
Thus, their short holiday carried on—every moment a fierce, unrelenting testament to their love and yearning.
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