WARNING: There is a reason that this story is rated 'M' (!). Please don't read this chapter if you might be offended by it. – it is not essential to the story, but a bit of fun for those who want to see grace and the Colonel become more intimate.
Enjoy!
Tavington stood, brandy in hand, silently watching his bride. The bedchambers were dark and shadowy, lit only from the dull glow of the fire that crackled loudly to disturb the deadly silence of the room. Grace was sat on the bed refusing to meet his eyes.
'Come here,' he instructed.
Grace did not move and inch. Tavington clenched his jaw. He crossed the room and grabbed her wrists pulling her unceremoniously to her feet and back to his first position. Grace's eyes were filled with anger.
'Listen to me Mrs Tavington,' he said harshly. 'If I tell you to do something – you do it. Understand?' He was getting extremely impatient by the way he had to force her into every move; he was used to his orders being obeyed with immediacy by his men.
'I'm not your slave,' she said with vehemence, wrenching her arms from his.
'No,' he said, his tone light, 'you're my wife.'
All the emotions that had been building in Grace throughout the day seemed to come to a head at these simple words; her frustration at being forced into a marriage that she did not want; her anger at the way her new husband conducted himself; her helplessness that had accompanied her to the marital bed. She flew at him with raised fists intending to wipe the smirk off his face with all the might she could muster.
She caught Tavington off guard. Though he was excellent at reading men poised for battle, women in seemed were more problematic. In any case Grace was able to mark his smooth bronze face in two places before he regained control, pinioning her arms behind her head, her back against the wall. He stood watching her for a few moments, his eyes flashing with fury, before drawing back his hand and striking her hard across her cheek. Grace gasped.
'I told you that a young lady keeps her hands to herself,' he said, noting with satisfaction the fear in Grace's eyes and admiring the redness of her cheek - 'let that be a lesson to you.'
Grace had never been struck in such a way by any man. Her cheek burned, and tears of pain and humiliation sprung to her eyes. Rage reared within her like a wild animal and she fought hard to keep it within her breast. She knew that the Colonel was a brute and would have loved to retaliate, but, as her husband, she knew also that he had the right to subject her to chastisement if she disobeyed him. Before today she had thought that he would not dare to strike her, but now she was his wife it was not done for anyone, not even her Grandfather, to interfere. She felt a grudging fear of how the evening might proceed.
As if in answer the Colonel suddenly pushed his face close to hers, his lips clamping onto her own in a crushing embrace. He dropped her wrists, pulling her away from the wall and wrapped his arms tightly about her back forcing her body close to hers. His tongue parted her lips and sampled her roughly, flicking itself against the tender skin of her mouth and penetrating almost to her throat, the vague tinge of brandy still on his lips. She pushed hard against his chest but his embrace was relentless. She felt him tasting her hungrily, his lips burning her as his unyielding hands grasped her buttocks and pinched them with invasive fingers. She felt weak in his grasp. Her head was light and to her confusion she had to fight hard to keep her own hands from reaching for his body.
Tavington decided he had waited long enough – his new wife needed to be taught exactly what he expected from her. He picked her up heavily in his arms. She struggled hard against this advance kicking her feet, but he overpowered her easily. He placed her down on the bed, his body on top of hers, crushing her. He pinned her arms again above her head, using his sturdy leg to stay her kicking legs. His rough tongue searched her mouth relentlessly, viciously, and with her hands above her head she was powerless to prevent him.
After a few moments of brutal embrace his free hand rode down to the hem of her skirts and hitched it up to her waist. He looked down and saw that her petticoats had also ridden up to reveal her smooth, bare white ankles, her silk slippers still on her feet. He pushed the shaped petticoats and her chemise up as well so that her entire legs were exposed to him. She had luxurious skin and a slender shape and he felt his manhood harden within his breeches. He moved his hand to the silk of her drawers, placing his hand on her most intimate part. He felt her body jolt and looked back down into her eyes. Her face had flushed a deeper red than that of her struck cheek.
'Take your hands off me,' she gasped, humiliated at the way his hands fondled her body so blatantly.
'I don't think so,' he replied, before kissing her violently again. She struggled but it was no use - his hand freely caressed her. The embrace seemed to last forever; his forceful mouth and firm hands searching her violently. She felt weak beneath him, the warmth of his touch stirring something deep inside of her. He fondled her relentlessly, his free hand manipulating a place where she had never been touched.
'No,' she muttered - but with her hands secured she was powerless to prevent him from awakening the senses of her body. Every inch of it seemed to conspire against her, his touch arousing warmth that shot through her body penetrating to her toes and her finger tips.
The Colonel felt her relax beneath him. He bruised her lips mercilessly, whilst keeping up a rhythmic caress. He knew that he was bringing her, somewhat unwillingly, to the brink of desire as her breath had quickened. He released her hands from his grasp, feeling them immediately push against his chest in protest. The weight of his body kept her there as his firm hand grabbed and fondled her breasts through the heavy material of her dress, the jewels scratching his fingers. The skirts of the dress was now up around her waist but he made no attempt to loosen her corsets or unclothe her top half; now she was his wife there would be plenty of time to sample her bare bosom. He hadn't expected to enjoy his assault on his maiden bride so greatly, but as he felt her bare thighs struggle beneath his grip and saw her eyes filled with fire his erection grew to an admirably long, hard, length, sheathed ruthlessly by his coarse cotton britches.
After a long few moments of passionate caress she made the sound that he had waited for; moaning low and long. Immediately he jerked his free hand away from her intimate quarters and repositioned it on her wrists, securing them once more above her head. He leaned forward, his face almost touching hers, so that she could taste the brandy on his breath and feel his hot breath on her cheek.
'Now listen to me,' he said, in a low but triumphant tone, 'I did not marry you so that you could sigh like a whore beneath me. If I had wanted a whore I would have procured one with the more than generous dowry that your Grandfather bestowed upon me. If such a sound escapes your lips once more then I shall turn you over onto your stomach and take you like you were a harlot. Tonight you are my chaste wife and you will play your role.' He said the words with such threat that Grace quivered slightly beneath him arousing him further. He had been baiting her, imploring her to reach the point of want, knowing that he would then use it against her.
Anger racked through the pores of Grace's body. She knew that Tavington had brought her to the brink of desire to humiliate her. She was now so hopeless against a craving deep inside her body that she was unsure of whether she would be able to comply with Tavington's order. However she did not doubt that he would keep his word and so she grit her teeth and said nothing.
'Good,' he said, before wrenching her undergarments from her and resuming his caress.
Grace had to fight hard to prevent herself from calling out once again. It seemed that the more that she set her jaw in rejection of the Colonel and his violating hands, the more that her body desired him. She had to bite her lips hard to stop them parting in a moan.
Tavington was pleased at the obvious turmoil that wracked his bride. Though she knew that by law she was required to give herself to him she was fighting hard against her desire. His manhood now throbbed painfully. He had not anticipated that he would feel such lust for Grace - given that his marriage had been born out of the General's will - but as he felt her toned, youthful body beneath him he had the sudden urge to take her as violently as he could. He reached down and released his rock solid erection. Using his legs to spread her own he suddenly parted her legs wide, and, making sure he restrained her arms tightly, he thrust himself into her virginity. She called out loudly in pain but this did not deter him. He thrust again and again taking her body over and over.
Grace felt herself breathless from the first violation of her body. She was now at an indistinguishable border between pain and pleasure, not understanding why that which she wanted so little her body desired so much. Every thrust of the Colonel made her bite her lip harder to prevent herself calling out. The losing of her virginity hadn't been nearly as painful as she had feared, but the knowledge that she was almost enjoying the Colonel's onslaught, her skirts up around her waist and her nipples erect under her dress, was almost too agonizing to bear. She had shut her eyes in the vain hope of distancing herself, but now opened them to look directly at Tavington. She saw that, for once, his hair had come loose from its thong, hanging wildly around his face; beads of sweat had formed on his forehead and her stomach gave a strange jolt at the way his face was flushed with heat and his eyes closed with concentrated pleasure.
Tavington, perhaps feeling her gaze upon him, snapped open his eyes. Immediately, and with great restraint, he halted his movements. He grabbed a handful of Grace's hair and she gasped in pain as he tilted her head back, the large pearl that Lord Cornwallis had presented her with that morning cutting into her throat. She was positioned to she was looking directly into his piercing eyes. She could not struggle as the more she did the more excruciatingly his fingers tangled into her hair pulling her scalp tightly so that it seared with burning pain. He pushed his face, once again, close to hers.
'Shut your eyes,' he said, in the most chilling tone Grace had yet heard from him, 'and do not open them again.' He had no intention of allowing her to watch his climax. Grace complied immediately, but, instead of the expected release, Tavington held her hair as he resumed his violent thrusts. A few minutes later Grace felt his release deep within her body - a low groan escaped from the back of his throat. In his own reverie he seemed to have missed the moan had she had been unable to prevent escaping her own lips moments before.
They both paused there, their bodied still connected as they panted in the gloom; the marriage was now consummated.
Hope you enjoyed the update … please let me know what you think!
