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What Kind of Man
Warnings: Period typical sexism, Inappropriate use of corset, smut, possessive behaviour
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Chapter 4: Midsummer Ball
Wednesday came around faster than you thought. In the two days since Sunday, you’d only seen your husband twice, at evening supper. You didn’t see him in the mornings either, expecting him to be at your side, although, he always left a single red rose on his pillow. You had not spoken since the corset incident, just brief ‘good evenings’. He was a very busy man it seemed. Today you were to be fitted for your new wardrobe, Mrs. Venabale arriving after lunch. You found yourself recoiling under her gaze as she scrutinised and measured you up. “your posture could use some improvement, I’m adjusting you corsets with that in mind,” she stated, scribbling something down. “Other than that, not much needs to be done, the Count seems to have sent me accurate measurements a few weeks ago.” Your brows knitted in confusion; you don’t recall having ever sending your measurements to anyone. You were sure your village seamstress didn’t have any up to date numbers, as you had preferred to make your own clothing in recent years. Venabale raised her brow at you, “a Countess must not be so open with her emotions, you must remain expressionless, or else people wont respect you, or take you seriously.” She started to pack her tools, “Your ballgown will arrive in time for Friday, as I mentioned earlier, I need to adjust your corseting,” she finished. Ball? No one had told you about a ball. You tried to recall any mention of it as Medina led her out. You asked Medina when she returned, “Is there to be a ball this Friday?” “Yes, we have an annual Midsummer ball, it’s quite the event, this year is extra special as it’s also to welcome you to the County,” she smiled. Midsummer. How time flies. Friday would mark a week since your wedding, the feeling of dread you had that day had not yet died down. You would write to your mother soon. You had an idea to help you pass the time. “The Count is a fan of dessert yes?” you asked. Medina nodded in reply. “Show me to the kitchens I’d like to bake something for dinner this evening,” you said. Medina looked at you in shock, “My Lady you don’t have to do that, all you have to do is ask and the staff will prepare anything you want.” You stopped her before she could go any further, “Please Medina, I’m bored and I’m more than capable of being in the kitchen.” She nodded, and led you to the kitchens.
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The kitchens were grand, a few staff members flitting around. Mrs. Mead was also there, preparing the meal for tonight. “My Lady? What brings you here?” she asked. “I’d like to make a cake for this evening, to keep me occupied, I promise I’m a good baker,” you replied. She hesitated, before showing you to the dessert ingredients. You had decided to make a simple Victoria sponge. “Our working garden has fresh strawberries actually,” Medina suggested. “Can I have a look? She led you through to a little walled garden behind the kitchens, filled with an array of produce; it was used for the smaller meals in the castle. You took a little basket and went to pick the strawberries you needed for the cake. The staff looked at you in shock, not expecting the countess to be so hands on. You smiled at them all as you walked back inside, ready to start on the cake. Everyone returned to their stations, the staff and you falling into a natural rhythm. The conversation was coming easy, forgetting your new status for a while, laughing along with the staff. Time flew by and the smell of cake and strawberry jam wafted through the castle.
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Michael and you sat down for your evening meal. Sick of the awkward silence, you decided to ask some questions. “I heard there’s a ball this Friday,” you asked. He stopped and wiped his lip. “yes, there is, it’s why I’ve been so busy for the past few days,” he started. “The Midsummer ball here is quite well known, I’m sure your brother may have mentioned it before. It’s an opportunity for you to be introduced to my circle, and to let loose a little.” Let loose? you glared at him and he chuckled. The urge to slap him had returned. Before you could go any further, the cake and tea had arrived. Mrs. Mead carefully cut two slices and served them. You waited patiently for Michael to take a bite, hoping he would like it. He chewed and swallowed, expressionless. “who made this? Do we have anew baker?” he asked Mrs. Mead; a silence took over “I – I did,” your nerves making you voice shake. He looked at you and smiled, shovelling another forkful, “its very good, you are full of surprises little dove.” You breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at his approval and digging into your own slice. “Thank you.” “You look a lot better when you smile,” he turned to you. You noticed the cream on the corner of his lip, without thinking you reached forward to wipe it off. He grabbed your wrist before you could move your hand away. Looking you in the eyes, he moved your hand and took your thumb into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it and lightly sucking; humming when he tasted the cream. You stared at him in awe, finally realising what you had done, your face flushing red. Before your thoughts could go any further, he let go of your finger with a ‘pop’. He stood from the table ready to take his leave. “I thoroughly enjoyed the dessert tonight; I hope this isn’t the last thing you’ll make. Unfortunately, I must take my leave for the evening, so I must bid you goodnight.” He placed a light kiss on your cheek before leaving. You sat there flustered and speechless, not noticing his grin as he left the dining room.
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The weather on Thursday had significantly cleared up, the sun shining bright. You could almost imagine being back in your little village. Almost. You went to bed flustered from the previous night; the embarrassment carried into the morning. You asked for breakfast to be served in the library, where you knew you’d be alone. As the afternoon came around, your boredom took over yet again. You decided it was about time you saw the castle gardens, making your way outside with Medina leading the way. As you stepped outside, you closed your eyes and took in a breath of rose scented air. The warmth of the sun on your face brought you more comfort than you liked to admit. You opened your eyes and finally took in the garden. You had never seen so many roses and flowers, in so many different colours. The perfect mix of an English and French garden. You wouldn’t think that a castle with such an ominous façade would have a garden that looked so lush and bright, it looked like a different world. You now knew why there was a midsummer ball here, anyone with a garden as beautiful as this would want to show it off. As you were taking it all in, you noticed a boy trimming some roses. “Medina? Who’s the boy?” “That’s my twin Jim!”, she replied and waved him over. The brown-haired boy jogged over, slowing down when he noticed you. “My Lady it’s a pleasure to meet you, I apologise for the sate I’m in right now,” he said shyly. “Oh no please don’t apologise. Jim is it? Its very nice to meet you. What do you do around here?” “My Lady you are too kind,” he blushed. “I do a lot of things, I’m the stable boy, the errand boy and sometimes the gardener,” he explained. “so, you wear many hats,” you smiled at him. The conversation came easy with the twins, forgetting about your initial idea of walking through the garden. The feeling of being watched had started to creep up on you again, you ignored it in favour of talking to them.
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Michael’s office overlooked the garden, his favourite part of the castle. The large windows painted a unique picture for every season, each with its own beauty. He kept his windows open during the summer, letting the scent of roses drift in. Today was a day like every other, he’d been in here since the morning, not expecting any disturbances. His workflow was disturbed by a giggle. One that he had heard exactly six months before. He shot up to look out the window. He saw you, standing amongst the roses, giggling away at something the stable boy had said. The fucking stable boy. Michaels jaw clenched in rage. Why hadn’t you laughed like that around him? Yesterday was the first smile he got from you. And now here you were, laughing along with another man, no, a boy! He saw red, he was going to put a stop to this. Ignoring his work and marching down to the garden.
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Michael tried to look calm as he walked up to the three of you. “enjoying your afternoon,” putting a halt to all conversation. If looks could kill, you were sure Jim would be a pile of ashes. “We are, I was hoping to go on a walk through the garden,” you said, hoping to ease the tension. Michael's glare turned to you. “well then, lucky for you I’m free this afternoon and I can give you a personal tour,” he stated. He turned to Medina, “Tell Mrs. Mead that lunch and afternoon tea will be served in the garden for us,” with that, he gripped your arm and pulled you into the garden, the twins scurrying away, back to their daily tasks. “Michael your hurting me!” you said as you tried to peel his hand away from your arm. He eased away, gripping your hip instead, keeping you close. “this garden was designed by my grandmother, Constance,” ignoring what you had said just moments before. “She was French, that’s why there are French design elements, I’ll take you one day I think you’ll like Paris.” You kept your mouth shut, you knew exactly what he and your brother got up to in Paris.
“It really is beautiful; I’ve never seen such a variety of flowers before. I can see why people come from far and wide to see it,” you said, trying to change the conversation and diffuse the tension. As you both walked through the garden, Michael explained every detail to you, from the flowers to the fountains, even the statues. This was the most conversation you had had in a week, and if you were being honest, you enjoyed his company. He finally got that laugh out of you after telling the story of how he procured one of the statues. He could have sworn he stopped breathing when he heard it. You eyes glimmering with joy in the sun. He took your gloved hand and led you up to the gazebo in the centre of the garden. A table had been set with a light lunch and your left-over cake from last night. You continued to laugh as you watched him scarf it down. “what? Why are you laughing,” he asked, with his mouth still full. “I’ve never seen someone finish a whole cake before,” you smiled. His cheeks were tinged pink as he swallowed. “I’m a growing boy, I need to eat,” he justified. You shook your head, finishing your own slice, taking in your surroundings.
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After you finished, Michael walked you back to the castle. “Your brother will be in attendance tomorrow, so if you have anything you want to send back home please do have it prepared for Saturday,” he stated. The prospect of seeing your brother again made you smile again. Nodding to Michael as you headed up to your room to write. You wrote to your mother about your first few days, the feeling of dread and the consistent nightmares. Your letter would vex your mother but who else were you going to confide in? You didn’t fully trust anyone in this house yet. Supper was served in your room. You went to bed by yourself again, hoping that maybe just this once those coal black eyes and sharp teeth would let you be.
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The castle was abuzz the next morning, all staff adding final touches for the ball that evening. You were not feeling the same enthusiasm. The nightmare you had left you shaken and an with an unexpected ache, your limbs felt so heavy. You choose to forego breakfast you knew you wouldn’t keep it down; you swore you could taste the blood from your dreams in your mouth. You weren’t allowed to enter the ballroom as it was supposed to be a surprise for you Medina explained. You decided to take a bath before getting dressed for the evening, your dress arriving merely hours ago. The rose scented water helped the ache in your bones, but not much else. You were covered in blood in your dreams, no matter how hard you scrubbed the feeling of being coated in the red sticky liquid remained. You almost made yourself bleed before Medina had to stop you. You had no solid explanations for your behaviour.
You sat in your grand dressing room in a robe, Medina working away at your hair. You had noticed on the first day you got changed that the wardrobe in the bedroom looked a bit bare. You later learned that your clothes were kept in a dressing room, adjacent to your room. It was almost as big as the room where you slept. Full of your husbands, and now your, clothes. All luxury fabrics and colours that were far too expensive for you to afford back in the village, your brother’s education had come first. The fact that your bathroom was joined to your room was already too much for you to comprehend. Medina finished placing violets and lavender flowers into your hair. They matched your gown, also lavender in colour. Purple dye was expensive; you were still getting used to the wealth you had married into. You stood to get dressed and Medina hesitated.
“My Lady, this is a new type of corset and I’m not sure how to lace it, I’ll go get Mrs. Mead to help us,” she said, Leaving you alone in front of the mirror, holding your corset up. Just as she left; Michael walked in. You began to have flashbacks to your first day here, making you blush. He walked behind you, tracing his fingers over your spine, just like before. “What seems to be the issue this time,” he whispered. You hesitated. “Medina has never laced a corset like this before, she has gone to get some help,” you replied. “No need for that, I’m sure I can do it,” he said, beginning to pull the laces in. You moved to say something, but before you could, he yanked the laces tighter, making you gasp loudly. “Michael, it���s too tight!” you cried out. “Does it hurt little dove? Are you struggling to breath?” he taunted, grinning at you through the mirror. He continued to pull until you thought you would pass out. Struggling for air. “I think that should do it,” he finished tying you off. He walked around and stood in front of you, brining his face closer and licking away tears you didn’t realise had fallen. Not only were you in pain, but you were embarrassed too, bringing on a pounding headache. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck. Taking the matching outfit that he would wear tonight. “Be ready for six sharp, don’t keep me waiting, I’ll make you attend in a half dressed state if I have to,” he said, finally walking out of the room, leaving you literally breathless. Medina and Mead returned moments later.
“Could one of you please loosen it a little I think I might faint,” you said. “Who laced you up?” asked Mrs. Mead. “Michael” “If the Count has laced you up then unfortunately there’s nothing we can do, he’ll know, and he’ll be really angry. You don’t want poor Medina to be punished just because your corsets a little tight, now do you?” she responded. “you’ll just have to save your breath and not talk much.” With that she left you and Medina alone again. She finished dressing you. The gown was truly beautiful, but you couldn’t admire it like you would have wanted to, the corset making you feel like your ribs might crack with one wrong move. You did notice that your spine was a little straighter, Mrs. Venebale’s adjustments had worked. You felt a little better when sitting down. Medina finished off your makeup, just in time for 6 o’clock. You thanked her and you both walk out to the ballroom entrance, where Michael was waiting. He smiled at you, “you’re just on time.” You could hear the chattering of the guests through the door, your nerves combined with your corset made you feel ill.
Michael took your hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow, standing up straight. As the doors opened, the ballroom stilled in silence. All eyes were turned to the pair of you. Looking you up and down, you were fresh meat in a den of lions. You held your head up a little higher. You would not be intimidated by all these people who wished they were in you place, by his side. It finally hit you that you were now a Countess. All these people would watch your every move, some hoping you would fall. You were not going to give them the satisfaction. Your train of thought was interrupted by Michael, “Friends and Honoured guests, I welcome you all to the Langdon estates annual midsummer ball. I’d like to thank you all for travelling so far to attend, and I hope we do not disappoint, but, we never do,” the audience chuckled a little. “This year is extra important, for today we welcome my new bride, the Countess Y/N Langdon into our ranks, so please do give her a warm welcome.” He grabbed a wine glass from the waiter. “Let’s raise a toast in her honour tonight and may you all have a pleasant evening,” he finished. The crowd raised their glasses to you with a collective ‘cheers’, you smiled and nodded to the crowd. Everyone went back to their previous chatter, the music starting again. “Don’t be too nervous little dove, no one can hurt you,” Michael whispered to you. Easing your nerves a little and relaxing your posture.
Your brother came up to greet you, asking how you were and giving you updates on the village gossip. Apparently, your parents and friends missed you dearly. He would be staying the night, so you hoped to talk more at breakfast the next morning. For now, you had other guests to be introduced to. Many guests were names you had heard before, from your parents or they were friends of your brother. Excited to finally meet his ‘pretty little sister’. You shouldn’t have let him take that picture of you, you didn’t want to think about how many of the boys had seen it and had ‘opinions’ of you. “My dear, this is Duncan Shepherd, heir of the Shepherd fortune in the USA.” You smiled and held out your hand for him to shake, instead the brought it to his lips to kiss. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Lady Langdon, they say that you’re quite lucky to be bound to my dear friend; but meeting you, I think he’s the lucky one,” he said, smirking at Michael. You could only smile, laughing or talking too much would hurt thanks to your husband’s hand at your corseting. Duncan started again, “This is my dear Fiancée, Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt, heiress to the Vanderbilt fortune.” She smiled and shook your hand, too distracted by your grand ballroom and your husband to fully pay attention. “Nice place you got here.” Michael and Duncan started to chat, leaving you to the side. You took in the ballroom. It, like the rest of the castle, was grand. You thought that you would never be able to comprehend Versailles, since this castle had you shocked already. The large glass windows and door were open, letting in a warm summer breeze and the fragrance of the garden the ballroom overlooked. You could see some of the guests promenading through the flowerbeds. You and your husbands attire had to be the grandest in the room, despite the room being full of wealth. You had to admit, he had excellent taste.
You were onto your third glass of wine when a woman approached you. Beautiful with Platinum blonde hair. She introduced herself as Countess Elizabeth March. “I do believe we’ve met before,” you stated. You had once attended a ball with her. “You remembered? Yes, we have, you were younger then. Look at you, you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman. Although, I didn’t expect you to marry my dear little cousin.” “Cousin?” “we share a grandfather,” she replied. She looked around the room and came closer to you. “Everything is not always what it seems my dear, be careful and keep your curiosity at bay, you might not like what you find,” she finished. Your eyes widened in shock, what did she mean? Michael spotted you both, walking over quickly, leaving his conversation behind. “Cousin Elizabeth, I hope you’re not trying to fill my brides pretty little head with bad thoughts?” “Of course not dear, we were just reminiscing over old times, we attended a ball together once so we were just discussing that. I think I should get back to my husband now before he gets too drunk,” with that she left you both.
He gripped your wrist tightly, reminding you of his anger yesterday in the garden. “Whatever she said to you, pay no mind to it, she’s still bitter grandfather left her next to nothing.” You nodded and tried to remove his hand from your wrist. The orchestra had started a waltz and Michael dragged you to the dancefloor. You tried you hardest to keep up, the corset not allowing you to move too much without struggling to breath. You began to dance, grateful for your dancing lessons. His grip was tight on your hip, but you could barely feel it as the corset had made you go numb. His eyes never once left your form, and you kept your eyes glued to him. Fearing that he might do something if you dared to look elsewhere. The waltz came to close and you felt even more lightheaded than before, you thought you might have started to cry in front of all your guests. Michael sensed your shift in mood. “Come, lets get some fresh air and see the garden in the moonlight.” He took your hand, gently this time, and slowly walked you towards the garden. You couldn’t admire the beauty of the roses, too focused on steadying your breath. The fact that you’d drank three glasses of wine did not help the situation. You didn’t speak to Michael, fearing one wrong breath and you’d pass out. Your mother would die if she found out that you’d done that in front of your guests. He brought you inside and sat you down, you didn’t hear what he said, feeling too hazy. Medina brought you glass of water and you slowly sat and sipped it. Feeling embarrassed that your first ball had come to this. Some more time had passed, you had spoken to a few more guests, becoming more confident despite your little predicament. As the clock struck ten, you figured out that these parties would go on till early into the next day. Michael was nowhere to be seen, so you decided to go back to your room, slipping away without anyone noticing.
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You got to your room and breathed a sigh of relief. Well, you tried too. You walked into your dressing room, lighting the candles on your vanity to bring some light. You began to unpin your hair, letting it fall and bringing some relief to you scalp. You would take the flowers out later. You rubbed your temples, trying to tame your headache. You removed your lavender gloves. Carefully placing them on your vanity, the lace was far too delicate for you to be rough with it. You stood, ready to remove your gown, before you were interrupted by the door slamming open. There stood Michael, his face illuminated by the soft candlelight, painted in a sneer. “It’s rude to leave your guests without saying goodbye.” You stared at him in silence, not knowing how to reply. He walked to you, grabbed your arm and pulled you into your bedroom. It was illuminated with more candles, ones that you don’t remember lighting. Maybe you did but couldn’t recall in your lightheaded state.
Occupied in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice that Michael had removed your gown until the cold air of the room hit you. You shivered, from the temperature drop, and in anticipation. He stood in front of you, making you watch as he slowly removed his gloves and his velvet dinner jacket. He moved behind you, resting his chin on you shoulder. “You’ve left quite the impression on my guests,” he whispered. “a – a good one?” you stuttered. He chuckled; you feel his breath on your neck. “They think your polite and quite pretty. You seem to have the same effect on them that you have on me.” You didn’t know what he meant, so you asked, “w- what effect do I have on you?” He took your small hand in his large one sending shocks of electricity through you. Your hands had been in gloves for as long as you can remember, only taking them off in the evenings or when you were getting dressed. Just this small action, of bare hands touching, was far too intimate for you. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your palms, and then your fingertips. You were glad he couldn’t see you and you were sure you looked redder than the roses left on the nightstand. He then brought your hand down to the front of his trousers, pressing you palm against something hard, rutting up against you. Like every good young lady, you were a virgin, but you had heard stories from your married friends, you mother even giving you a brief talk a few days before you got married. To be in the situation right now had you feeling a little tense.
“relax little dove, I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he said, noticing your hesitation. He moved your hair over your shoulder and began placing kisses along your shoulder blades and nape. Each kiss adding more fire to your belly. He slowly began unlacing you, taking his time, watching you relax and finally breath properly. The numbness in your skin subsiding, you could feel the blood rush back in. The final string was pulled, and Michael dropped your corset before you could hold it up. Now fully exposed to the cold air and to him. He ran his fingers along the angry red indents, making you hiss. His hand calming some of the sting. “Did it hurt little one? To have it so tight? I almost made you cry in front of everyone.” You could hear the smile in his voice. His fingers glided from your back, around your waist to your stomach.
He pulled you back to his chest, feeling the silk of his shirt against you. You rested your head on his shoulder. Bearing you neck to him. he peppered light kisses down the side of your neck. You moaned when he reached a sensitive spot. He stopped and sucked at it, causing your breathing to get heavier. Nothing had ever felt this good before. “you make the prettiest noises; I think I'd like to hear some more.” The baritone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. He let go of you. Mewling at the loss of his warmth. You stood there in just your panties, bringing your arms up around your chest. The shuffling of fabric could be heard behind you. Then it stopped. You were unsure of what he was going to do next, but you daren’t turn around.
You felt his hands on you again, leading you to the bed and you climbed on. He stood there facing you. He had removed all but his own underwear. You think maybe you’d seen the image that was in front of you in the statues in the garden. The candle light illuminating his chiselled features just right. You knew there and then that Eros himself envied your husband. You felt even shier under his gaze, surely this was a dream and you could never reach his standards. He held you face in his hands, gently, as if you’d break. He brushed his thumb over your lips, before putting it in your mouth. You felt the need to suck, so you looked down and did; Michael groaned. “Look at me, don’t take your eyes of me tonight, I want to see everything,” he removed his finger from your mouth with a light ‘Pop’. Holding your chin and pulling your face up to his. He looked at you once more, before placing his lips on yours. You closed your eyes and eased into the kiss. It was gentle and slow at first, before it became rougher. He kissed you like a man starved. Exploring your mouth with his tongue, only pulling away for air. You both looked flushed, a string of saliva still connecting you both. You leaned forward to kiss him again, running you fingers up his neck and through his hair. You were pushed back into the pillows, Michael peppering kisses and bites down your neck and breasts. His thumb brushed over your nipple, causing you to squeak out. You were such a sensitive little thing, and he loved it.
He took one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You couldn’t say anything, the only thing leaving your mouth were moans and mewls. He moved to the other and began to trail his hand down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your panties. He let go of your breast, looking at you with spit glossed lips, before moving to kiss down your stomach. His fingers moved down to your core, causing you to jolt at the sensation. It was all so foreign to you. You’d never even touched yourself, for fear of someone finding out. “Look at you, you’re soaked, and all for me hmm.” You looked at him and shyly nodded. He slowly began to peel your panties away from you, revealing your wet lips to him. Totally untouched. He ran his fingers through your slick folds. The sensation making you want to snap your legs shut. He smacked your thigh. “Keep them open,” he said, gripping your knees and pulling your thighs apart. He placed his thumb on your sensitive little nub, and you cried out. You felt so good, no one had told you that this would feel good.
“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long,” he said, looking up at you. He smiled and brought is head between your thighs, licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your hands shot out, gripping his silky locks. You wanted more. And he gave. He licked and sucked like a man deprived of water, holding your thighs apart and groaning into you. So lost in your pleasure you didn’t notice him bringing a finger up to your entrance, until you felt an unfamiliar stretch. You cried out at the little sting. “Relax little dove, it’ll be a little uncomfortable but relax, it’ll ease up. You whimpered and nodded, Michael pumped his finger in and out, adding a second when you eased up a little, “You’re so tight and wet for me, I could spend the rest of my life here.” Those final words made the coil in your belly snap, making you grind onto his fingers and tongue. You cried out in ecstasy, letting the unfamiliar but pleasant feeling take over you. Michael eased his fingers out of you and brought himself up to you. His mouth and chin glistened in the candlelight. Making you want to hide your face in embarrassment. He stopped you before you could. Bringing your lips to his, letting you taste yourself.
He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and looking you in the eyes, “Don’t hide from me, you look divine.” He took your hand again and brought it to his length. “This is what you do to me, feel it, it’s for you and only for you,” he says. You were feeling a little bold, running your fingers up his length, causing him to groan out. He stopped you and removed his underwear. You were now both bare to each other, just as Adam and Eve. “i- it’s so big, how will it f- fit?” You stuttered out. Your nervousness coming back. He shushed you and pushed you back onto the pillows. “I told you, you need to relax or else it will hurt.”
He lined himself up at your entrance, running his length through your folds, coating his cock with your wetness. “Look at me as I split you in half,” he ordered, his hands gripping your hips like a vice. You looked at him and slowly, he began to ease himself inside. Your eyes started to water at the stretch, you didn’t think he was going to fit. He held your hand, letting you squeeze down as he bottomed out. Both of you letting out a moan. He stayed there, letting you get used to his size. He kissed away the tears that fell. “Please move,” you moaned out.
Michael started a slow pace at first, getting you used to the feel and his rhythm. You felt like you’d split in half, but it felt so good. You brought your hands to his shoulders and your legs around his waist. Wanting to feel him closer, to have him deeper. He picked up the pace, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. Your moans filled the air, you were sure your guests could hear you. But they didn’t matter, no one did, no one but Michael mattered to you right now. You felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten. Michael felt your walls begin to pulse. He brought his hand down and started to rub circles on your clit. “M- Michael I think I’m..” “That’s it angel, cum around me like I know you can, give into your pleasure.” With those words, you snapped, cumming with a cry around his cock. You saw stars wishing that you could feel this high forever. His own face was twisted in pleasure, as he came and painted your walls with his warm seed. “Fuck angel look at you, your milking me for all I’m worth. Who knew you’d have such a greedy little pussy.” He kissed you again, holding you tightly, slowly easing out of you as he softened up. You were so tired, so drained but so satisfied. Michael lay down beside you, pulling you into his arms. Your head lay on his chest as he murmured sweet praises at you, kissing your forehead, easing you from your high. You looked up at him with a satisfied grin, and he grinned back. “you’ve been so good for me,” he whispered. You kissed his nose and giggled, laying your head back on his chest, drifting away in the warmth of his arms. You slept peacefully that night, your nightmares leaving you alone, just for tonight.
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solplparty · 2 years
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thepizzamandidit · 7 years
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Wkm 4: a thank you
Now that I am calm(er) all I wanted to say is thank you to every single living thing that worked on the ‘Who killed Markiplier?’ project. The story, the lines, the humor, the camera work, clothes, make up, acting, audio/music, everything is absolutely amazing. I am really really proud of you because this was the most interesting and amazing thing I have ever watched. But now guys, TAKE A BREAK PLEASE. YOU NEED REST AND A HOLIDAY. WE LOVE YOU AND WE WANT YOU TO REST OKAY? Okay. Thank you for this experience. It was so fucking fun.
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