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As she sat taller than him, she took advantage of it when her mouth dived to his and they kissed voraciously. Their tongues tangled and parried, explored, and deepened, gave and took. An eternity of kissing obligated them to come up for air.
Slowly, their eyes focused on each other. “Is this where the novice bests the master?” he rasped foggily.
"Good that you consider yourself a master." She teased but had to own to him having the right of it. He never failed to surprise and wrench total satisfaction from her.
“I should say so, consid—ah!”
Her thumb stole into his slit, discovering a fountain of pre-cum that she lathered over the engorged tip. The sight of him in disarray, undone flap, cock springing from his breeches nearly undid her. She could wait no more. Her hips rose, and she put him exactly where she craved him most. As she sank on his hardness, both moaned in pleasure.
She moved on him, grinding as far as she could go. His arms banded her and helped her seek her pleasure. Her channel heated and took him on until she thought she’d die of it. But it might become worse, much worse. He brought one of his hands back between her legs to tease the nubbin going crazy there. Unable to hold it any longer, she exploded with everything in her, gasping as he thrust his hips up to intensify her orgasm. He banded her anew, his mouth latching on her breast, her core still quivering. His grinding became frantic and erratic to the point he had to let go of her breast to give way to his laboured breaths. As he shuddered in her emitting several grunts, she orgasmed for a second time.
Brow beading with sweat, he collapsed back on the chair, and she fell on him, both breathless and spent. Incapable of moving, they remained fallen on each other for several minutes. Lazily, his fingers caressed her hair, her lips grazing his neck distractedly.
“I do like this more…active side of you,” he rasped after a long time, probably meaning she’d taken the initiative.
Hester lifted her torso from his to register his features rippled with a sated hue, eyes half-mast, shoulders relaxed, body laid back. The mirror image of what she felt at that moment. "As a mistress, I felt like being put in a box and waiting for the provider to come and play with me whenever the mood struck."
A glint akin to surprise took over his gaze. “I never meant for you to feel like that.”
She toyed with a stray lock of brown hair on his brow. “No, but it’s how it’s framed.”
“And now?” he asked as his hand closed on hers on his collarbone.
“I’m freer,” she answered truthfully. “I have my house, my work, I owe nothing to anyone.”
His head tilted a degree. "I admit that at first, I intended to have a provider-mistress relationship." His head fell on the chair back as their eyes met. "But the lines blurred as we moved along."
She nodded in agreement. Undoubtedly, she’d seen it that way too. “I was still a mistress though.” Her gaze roamed over the agape shirt and the tantalising view of his muscled chest. “The rumours about your near betrothal made me realise I had to get out of that box.”
“Speaking of which, I don’t understand why you wouldn’t consider marriage.” He lifted her hand to kiss her wrist. “We’re good together.”
His bringing back the subject of matrimony caused her to study him more closely. In a way, he wasn't wrong. Their year together proved it, but there was something she had to bring forth. Detaching herself from him, she put him and herself to rights before striding around the desk and facing him.
"Another misgiving crossed my mind." She started. The hesitation gave her pause as she didn't have the slightest idea how to approach this.
“What is it?” he coaxed.
Her arms wrapped protectively around her as she inhaled deeply for courage. “In this past year, I never conceived. It may mean I’m barren.” With his mother on his back to produce an heir and the need for one if he wished to leave his legacy for the future generations, Hester envisioned a miserable future if she failed at it.
At her revelation, he sprang from his chair, fingers raking his hair, and came to stand right in front of her. “I have a cousin who’d inherit if that was the case.” His stare bore into hers. “I’m not close to him, but he’s a decent person.”
“That would make your mother go into a fit of rage.” She predicted.
His sensuous lips chuckled at the prospect. “Who’s to say you’re to blame?” he questioned. “Nobody mentions it, but it’s obvious that sometimes it’s the man’s fault. Widows who didn’t conceive with the first husband, are utterly fertile with the second, for instance.”
“But everyone blames women.” She concluded. “For everything that’s wrong in this world, I’d say.”
“Nothing will change overnight.” He estimated. “It’ll take time.” As for society’s views on women, he was right.
“I’d rather stay out of this vicious cycle anyway.” The mistress turned barren wife would be a burden bound to make both bitter, and she preferred to spare both this road to unhappiness.
He studied her for countless seconds before he gave a dry nod. “Fair enough, as long as we carry on as we have so far.” No doubt, he meant their present interaction.
Reluctantly, she agreed. “Fine, but I’ll move back to my home as soon as it’s safe.”
A knowing side smile drew his lips. “You’re too stubborn by half.” He vented as he bent and took her in his arms. “Meanwhile, we have unfinished business,” he said as he carried her out of the study.
“Do we?” she taunted playfully. “I had the impression that we’d… finished quite irrevocably.”
