The heavy, rhythmic sound of my hips slamming against Eleanor's wet thighs echoed loudly off the stone walls.
"Victor! Ahhhh! I can't—it's too much! You're stretching me so deep!" Eleanor sobbed, her hands gripping the thick muscles of my arms. Her amethyst eyes were completely dilated, glazed over with a haze of pure, unfiltered lust.
I didn't slow down. If anything, the sight of her completely abandoning her noble upbringing to beg for my cock only pushed me harder. I gripped her hips, pulling her flush against me to ensure I bottomed out with every single thrust, grinding my pelvis against her swollen clit.
Clatter.
The sharp sound of metal hitting stone cut through Eleanor's frantic moans.
I glanced over my shoulder without breaking my rhythm. In the corner of the room, the skinning knife had slipped from Beatrice's trembling fingers and bounced across the floor.
The fiercely loyal, deadly maid was falling apart. Her knees had visibly buckled, forcing her to lean heavily against the stone wall just to stay upright. Her face was flushed a brilliant, feverish red, and her hands—which had been clenching her skirt—were now pressed tightly between her own thighs, as if she was trying to physically hold back an entirely new, terrifying sensation.
She was panting, her eyes locked onto the point where our bodies were joined. She was watching my thick shaft slide perfectly in and out of her mistress's dripping, swollen folds.
"Beatrice," I grunted, my voice rough as I drove deep into Eleanor. "Are you understanding the lesson?"
"I... I..." Beatrice gasped, her entire body shuddering as she looked up into my eyes. "It... she is..."
She couldn't finish the sentence. The absolute sheer obscenity of the scene, combined with the sudden, violent awakening of her own untouched body, was completely overloading her. With a choked, breathless sob, Beatrice turned on her heel, ripped the heavy oak door open, and fled into the dark hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar.
I chuckled, turning my full attention back to my wife.
"She ran away," I whispered against Eleanor's lips, quickening my pace to a brutal, frantic rhythm.
"Victor! Oh god, don't stop!" Eleanor shrieked, her vaginal walls suddenly clamping down on me like a vice. "I'm—! I'm doing it again! It's happening again!"
"Let it happen," I growled, sliding my hands up to perfectly cup her heavy, bouncing breasts. I squeezed her tight pink nipples. "Take all of it, Eleanor!"
Her back arched so hard she practically lifted off the mattress. A beautiful, high-pitched scream tore from her throat as her second climax hit her like a tidal wave. Her internal muscles spasmed violently, milking my shaft with an unbelievable, crushing pressure.
It pushed me right over the edge.
I buried myself to the absolute hilt, burying my face in the crook of her neck. "Eleanor!" I roared, my entire body locking up as my cock pulsed.
Thick, boiling jets of cum erupted deep inside her womb. She whined beautifully, wrapping her long, pale legs tightly around my waist, locking me inside her so I couldn't pull out even a fraction of an inch. She took every single drop, her body shivering and twitching as she absorbed my heat.
We stayed like that for a long time, completely tangled in the messy, scent-heavy sheets. Eleanor's chest heaved against mine, her skin slick with sweat.
Eventually, she let out a long, content sigh, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back.
"She saw everything," Eleanor whispered, a belated blush creeping up her neck. "My own maid watched me scream like a common street walker."
"Your maid watched you get worshipped," I corrected softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And judging by how hard she was pressing her hands between her legs before she ran off, I guarantee she's currently in her quarters, discovering exactly what her own body is capable of."
Eleanor giggled—a genuine, youthful sound that I had never heard from her before. She snuggled deeper into my chest. "You are wicked, Victor. Absolutely wicked."
"I'm just getting started," I promised.
*****
The next morning, the post-coital glow was rudely interrupted by cold, hard economics.
I was standing in the courtyard, inspecting the freshly dug trenches for the bathhouse's hypocaust system, when Silas the head builder marched up to me. He looked furious.
"My Lord, we have a problem," the burly man growled, wiping mud from his brow. "The copper for the boiler and the piping. It's not going to happen."
I frowned, rolling up the blueprint I had been reviewing. "Why not? I told you to take the gold from the treasury. We have enough to cover standard market prices."
"It's not the market, my Lord. It's the Silver Fox Trade Guild," Silas spat. "They control the mining routes in the neighboring territory of Oakhaven. Their guildmaster, Lady Seraphina, heard that the 'trash Baron of Valerius' is suddenly buying up massive quantities of refined copper. She intentionally hiked the tariff on our territory by three hundred percent."
"Three hundred percent?" I repeated, my eyes narrowing. "That's an embargo in all but name. Why would she do that?"
"Because she can," Silas sighed. "Lady Seraphina is a ruthless noblewoman. She knows your family exiled you here, and she knows our territory is weak. She's bleeding us dry just for the amusement of it. If we pay her price, the treasury will be completely empty before winter."
I looked down at the muddy trench. Without that copper, the bathhouse was dead in the water. I couldn't build the pressurized boiler, which meant my beautiful wife would go back to freezing in a wooden tub, and my plans for modernizing this territory would stall before they even began.
I needed to negotiate with this Lady Seraphina. But a ruthless, wealthy noblewoman who controlled an entire trade guild wouldn't be swayed by threats or basic gold. She needed to be tempted by something she couldn't get anywhere else.
My engineering brain immediately shifted gears.
"Silas," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "Halt the trench digging for today. I need you to gather some materials for me. Immediately."
"Materials, my Lord? What kind?"
"I need a massive quantity of rendered animal fat from the butchers. I need wood ash from the kilns, pure distilled water, and whatever fragrant oils or dried flowers the servants use to mask the smell of this castle."
Silas looked completely baffled. "Fat and ash? My Lord, what are you building?"
"I'm not building a machine today, Silas," I smirked, turning to head back toward the castle laboratories. "I'm building a monopoly."
This world had no concept of modern hygiene. They washed with coarse, foul-smelling lye that burned the skin, or they just masked their body odor with heavy perfumes. If I could perfectly synthesize high-grade, beautifully scented, skin-softening modern soap, I wouldn't just have something to trade.
I would have a luxury product that every single wealthy, haughty noblewoman in the continent would kill for.
And Lady Seraphina was going to be my very first customer.