The Original Sin

Marguerite stood in front of the windows in the library of Henry's house, gazing at the deepening shades of twilight. She hated the impenetrable darkness of night that descended inevitably after the light of day had faded. Leaning her forehead against the cool window panel, she reflected upon the irony of her life mirroring the routine of day and night.

Except the darkness in my life will be nigh impossible to dispel.

The last month had flown by with arrangements for her "retirement" to the country. A permanent retirement that appeased the sensibilities of the ton which were affronted by the protection Henry had extended to her after the disaster that had befallen her.

Cicely was slowly recovering physically though the night terrors still haunted her. Marguerite had been at a loss when it came to procuring the abortifacient for Mary and Cicely as a precaution against the potential, unwanted consequences of the attack. Henry had come to the rescue once again with a bottle obtained from a madame who ran one of the biggest brothels in London. A woman who, it was rumoured, was a squire's daughter who had herself fallen victim to the Brotherhood some years ago. In exchange for her help, Henry had agreed to sponsor her daughter, effectively rescuing her from circumstances which would otherwise condemn the child to a similar fate as her mother's.

The foul-smelling liquid worked rapidly, both Cicely and Mary were wrecked with spasms of pain. It seemed like a torrent of blood poured from them, so horrifying was the sight that the maids and even the midwife Henry had arranged to attend to the two women were white-faced when they emerged from the rooms with bloodstained cloths and water pails. Henry had been fearful of Margaret suffering further trauma and had insisted she sit with him in the library as the abortifacient was administered.

Marguerite's nerves were so overwrought she jumped at every sound. Noting her knuckles turning white as her hands clasped tight in anxiety, Henry pressed a glass of whisky into her hands and insisted she drank it. The alcohol worked its magic, but the tension did not fully ebb till a maid reported that the ordeal was over and both women were asleep. Only then did Marguerite let the warm languor of the alcohol lull her into a fuzzy state of near sleep.

Chuckling as he swung her up into his arms, Henry whispered into the whorl of her ear, "Love, hold on just a little while, let me get you to bed, you will feel more comfortable there."

The feel of Henry's warm breath on her ear summoned a fiery tingle that ran from the pit of Marguerite's stomach to her cheeks. Snuggling closer to the warmth of his embrace, she turned her head and pressed her soft lips to his. Not wishing to frighten her, Henry kept the kiss soft and sweet, holding the surge of desire in check.

What he had not anticipated was Marguerite thwarting his honourable intentions. Having reached the door of her bedroom, Henry had thought to end the kiss when Marguerite wound her arms around his shoulders and deepened the kiss, rubbing her tongue against his. Shifting a hand higher to turn the doorknob, the brush of her round soft bottom against his wrist made his blood sing with desire.

Henry barely remembered walking into the bedroom as his head spun with the heat of Marguerite's kiss. "Love, are you sure?" he mumbled between kisses as he slowly lowered Marguerite.

Marguerite's answer was a sensual glide of her hips as she slid down his body when he lowered her from his embrace. Pressing forward, she felt his body's answer in the growing bulge that she felt against her belly. Feeling wanton impulse overtake her inhibitions, she moved her open palms from Henry's face to his broad chest, smiling at the quickening beat she felt beneath her hands. Tracing the path of her hands with her lips, she felt Henry tense as her hands moved past the top of his breeches and caressed his growing desire through the cloth. Henry's hands wound themselves in her hair as her lips closed upon the cloth-covered proof of his arousal. Undoing his breeches, Marguerite tried to conceal her nerves when he sprang forth, rigid and swollen.

Tipping her head up, Henry said in a voice gruff with desire, " Love, you do not have to.."

The thought died on a groan as Henry's tenderness proved to be the answer to Marguerite's nerves, her lips lightly kissing the head of his arousal before her tongue darted out to taste the pearly drop on its tip.

"Oh God..." Henry groaned as Marguerite licked and lightly sucked from the tip of his arousal to its base while her hands caressed the round sac at the base. To Marguerite's amazement, his arousal seemed to grow and twitch as Henry's stomach muscles trembled while his breath came out as a hiss.

Henry could feel droplets of sweat form on his forehead as Marguerite's mouth worked its exquisite torture over his throbbing organ. Feeling himself teetering on the edge, he tried to pull out of Marguerite's mouth. "Love, no, I cannot hold back..." Marguerite's hands held onto Henry's bottom, effectively trapping him.

"Love, no..."

The feel of Marguerite's lips and warm mouth across half his length as she moved her head in a dance around his arousal, concentrating on its sensitive head, proved to be Henry's undoing. Shouting his satisfaction, his stomach muscles shaking, Henry flooded Marguerite's mouth.

Realising she would gag as Henry's release threatened to overflow her mouth, Marguerite swallowed instinctively as she moved her lips to encompass his swollen tip, watching it jerk as Henry climaxed. His warm, salty essence filled her mouth as she swallowed as much as she could. Watching Henry's face, Marguerite marveled at the pleasure she had brought to her lover.

Pulling away after she felt his tremors subside, Marguerite was surprised to find Henry was still half rigid. Henry did not give her much time to wonder as he lay her on the bed, his hands making quick work of her clothes. Marguerite's mind fogged over with desire as Henry's thumb teased a peak while his mouth closed in on her other breast, teasingly close to the peak but not on it. Henry smiled as the peak pebbled beneath his circling thumb and an involuntary moan escaped Marguerite's lips as he finally suckled the aching peak he had teased.

Keeping one hand on her breast, Henry switched his attention to her nether portal. Starting with long licks on her outer lips, Henry gently stroked into her channel with his other hand. The tension building in Marguerite revealed itself in the increasingly frantic moans that came from her throat even as her thighs trembled with the effort not to close round Henry.

The knot of tension in the pit of Marguerite's stomach wound tighter till she thought she might burst. Henry sucked gently at the nub hidden between the folds of her hood while his fingers thrust into her snug channel. The sensation of both Henry's mouth and fingers drove Marguerite over the edge. Her strangled scream as spasms ran through her body made Henry lap greedily at the salty sweet essence that poured out of Marguerite over his fingers and across her thighs.

As the last of the tremors ran through Marguerite's limbs, Henry rose and thrust himself forcefully into her snug, wet portal. Her gasp made him still, hesitant in the fear that he had hurt her.

Seeing the concern in his eyes, Marguerite was so moved that tears rose to her eyes. Mistaking them as signs of pain, he moved to withdraw.

"I am so sorry, love, I should not have..." His words of regret were lost in the groan of pleasure that erupted as Marguerite drew her thighs up, locking them high up on Henry's hips and thrusting her hips upward, effectively trapping him completely in her. Kissing him forcefully, she felt the taste of Henry that lingered on her tongue mingle with the taste of herself that filled Henry's mouth. Mimicking the thrusting motion of her hips, Marguerite ensured the erotic mingling of their essences in their warm wet mouths reflected the smoldering union in the depths of Marguerite. The creaking of the bed as Henry's speed increased was accompanied by the sound of wet slapping flesh as they danced a universal primitive dance. Rearing up, Henry watched Marguerite's eyes glaze over with passion and desire as his thrusts alternated between maddeningly slow, deep strokes and shallow, rapid movements that made his glistening organ pure blurred motion.

Relishing the sight of Marguerite's shaking breasts, Henry cupped them as his thrusts deepened. Noting how their perfect peaks stood firm as the pale mounds quiver, he worshiped them with his tongue and lips, drawing cries from Marguerite.

Reaching for the elusive edge, Marguerite matched Henry's force as she thrust up. The grinding of their pelvic bones pushed Marguerite over the edge. Her spasms and tightening muscles clamped down around Henry and milked him. Shouting his pleasure, he held still in her vise-like grip as he shot deep into her. Reluctant to part, Henry collapsed into Marguerite's arms while their mingled essence bathed them both in the most intimate of ways.

As Henry slid off to sleep in her embrace, Marguerite stroke softly down his back. She fought back tears as the thought of their impending parting rose unbidden.

Marguerite Crofts, you must let him go, for both your sakes, you must.

She stared into the dying embers of the fire with growing bitterness.

To be continued...