"Take me!" she whispered. "Teach me…"
Her request was more than I could bear. She didn't want me; she was willing to do anything for that boy. Even loose her virginity to a monster. No, she didn't want me. She wanted him. But you want her! Said that ever-persistent voice in my head. She offered her self. Take it, you fool! And I lost control. She was standing there, tears in her eyes, waiting for me. She knew this was an offer I could not refuse. She also, must have known, that after this, she may never be able to leave me. She would belong to me. All mine, mind, spirit…and body. She was ready for that. She made this selfless offer to free her young man, but in turn, imprisoned herself. I knew that I could not refuse.
I turned around, and turned off the torture chamber. But did not free them. I turned back to her and I was sure that she saw the hunger in my eyes, before I grabbed her and held her to me by the waist, claiming her mouth as my own. I explored the warm, soft depths and latched her closer to myself. She gasped, but I paid no heed. She was frightened, but soon instinct took over her, and she began to respond. Her arms went up to my neck and pulled me closer. I took one hand off her waist and tangled it in her soft hair. But all too soon it was over. She broke the passionate kiss, gasping for air. I spun her around so her back was to my front and held her close, my head buried in her neck and hair. I kissed gently up and down the sides of her neck, and she moaned in pleasure. I was overjoyed to hear these sounds coming from her.
Softly, I unlatched the first of the fifteen hooks of the ivory dress. I watched in fascination as the material became loose and fell slightly, revealing one creamy, milk white shoulder that I massaged with my lips and tongue, gaining more moans from my young muse. I spun her around again so she was facing me, and once more began kissing her shoulder. I felt her body arch and looked up to see her exposed windpipe. I hungrily latched to it, and gained, yet another moan, and she tangled her hands in my hair, pleadingly.
I pulled back and examined her. She was beautiful, the ivory wedding gown loose, exposing one shoulder, the already low neckline drooping even more to show the hem of her corset. Her lips were slightly swollen from powerful, passionate kisses, her azure eyes begging for more, her blonde hair falling wildly, framing her face. I followed her silent command and slowly unlatched the second hook.
The dress gracefully fell and exposed more of what I wanted. Her other shoulder was now exposed, along with the neckline drooping more, her corset hanging out. It was what I wanted, but I could not stop there. I was greedy, I did not want to stop and take in what was there already, and I unlatched, hungrily, the next twelve hooks, leaving one, only one, attached. I examined what I saw with a grim fascination. The whole bodice of the dress was now hanging loosely over the skirt of the dress. The sleeves were off her arms, the only thing keeping her decent was that damn corset. But I was delighted so far and basked in her moans, moans of contentment and pleasure, as I explored her exposed skin with my lips and tongue. I kissed, bit, and licked every inch of her skin. Until I hit the barrier of her corset. That angered me slightly, and I contented to leave that in place, for now. I reached behind her. And, with no regards, unlatched the last hook, and took her in completely. She stood, dressed in only a white corset, a white see through underskirt, tights and underwear. Allah, I had never seen her more beautiful, to become mine soon.
I kept up my exploration of her body. I was becoming more and more angered by the corset, which I finally ripped it off. Allah! She was the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen! Her perfect breasts rose and fell with each passing breath. I watched as the rosy centers pebbled before my eyes. She was mine, and she knew it. I stared for a moment, and felt her latch her hands softly onto the lapels of my dress coat, only for it to slide off my arms softly, and fall to the floor. She slowly started to unbutton my shirt, and soon, that hit the ground also. Now we were both standing, half naked, before one another. She examined me, my scars, whitened by time. I was surprised when I felt her, softly, kissing each of my scars, salty tears running down my chest. But they were not tears of the sadness that she had lost to me, they were tears for me.
"Oh, mon ange, ce qui est arrivé à vous?" she asked me softly, tears rolling down her face.
"It was a long time ago, angel," I said, tears rolling down my face as well. I could not believe that she cared… no one cared. No one before had cared…
I picked her up and put her in the center of her bed in the Louis Phillipe room, the center of the bed in which I was born. I laid down next to her and slowly divested her and myself of the rest of our clothing, and pulled her close.
"Mon ange, you have already made me the happiest man on earth. Do you surely want me to continue?"
Her nod told all.