Adam & Evelyn

I obediently crossed back and crawled between the covers. She reached across and pulled me close to her, draping a leg across me, her mouth coming down on my neck. “Make love to me, Adam. Please?”

I wasn’t sure I could. The news had floored me. Evelyn was pregnant. Evelyn had my child growing in her belly. And she was planning to kill it. As if it were a nuisance. It was hard to get excited with such a cloud hanging over me.

Evelyn was determined, however. First, her hands and mouth were light on my skin, but slowly, when she found I wasn’t responding, she became more aggressive, climbing above me and rubbing herself against me. My cock began to stir.

She ran her hands into my hair and pulled my mouth up to hers. Her tongue flooded my mouth with the taste of brandy and Evelyn, finishing the job.

Her hand reached down for my now-hard cock. Her hand was gentle, almost reverent. “Come inside me, Adam. I want you inside me.”

I couldn’t resist her. Perhaps it was the fact that hers was the only female body I had known. Perhaps it was the perfection of that body as she pushed me onto my back and raised it above me. But that would not explain the joy I had felt when I learned she was carrying my child, nor the almost nauseating disappointment when she had explained her solution to the problem.

She sank down onto me, blurring my thoughts for a moment. I allowed my body to react instinctively to hers as my mind continued to reel.

She would kill it. I was the only way. She had said so herself. And she was right. After all, it was not as if I could marry her.

Could I?

#

I loved him. There was not other way to explain this aching need to couple with him. To find, somehow, a way to apologize for what I would have to do. I repressed a shudder as I remembered the pain of the previous times. That terrible hook jammed up inside me, raping me.

No. I pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on the young man beneath me. I squeezed my inner muscles around him, coaxing him slowly to climax. My dear Adam. My love. I was the only woman who had taken this young, shy, giving boy inside her body. That privilege would disappear soon. Now that Adam had discovered the joys of coupling, he was quickly showing a sexual drive to rival all my previous lovers combined. He would not be content to wait while I healed from the operation. Some other girl, likely a sweet little debutant would have that beautiful cock in her. I only hoped she would appreciate it.

Adam tensed and shuddered beneath me and I felt his warm seed spurting into my womb. Though I had not reached climax myself, I climbed off my lover and snuggled contentedly beside him. Now, he would drift off to sleep for a while and I would be able to just gaze down on his beautiful face, folding it away into my memory, to warm all my future lonely nights.

He did not sleep this time. His hands drifted lightly over my back and thighs, showing that something was agitating him. I was too frightened to ask what it was. Would he leave me already? I had hoped to keep him a few weeks before I saw the doctor.

“Evelyn, I -” He broke off.

I winced. Here it was.

“Evelyn. I don’t want you to kill the baby.”

The words stabbed my heart. “You think I want to do it?”

“You - you said it was the only way.”

“It is. But that doesn’t mean I want it.”

“Then don’t do it. Uncle Andrew - well, he won’t be pleased - but I know he will want me to face my responsibilities. He will arrange for you to have at least a decent living from my estate. And once I’ve received my inheritance -.”

“No, Adam. I won’t - I won’t let a child of mine - and a child of yours - be a bastard. I know it’s strange, considering what I’ve made of my life, but I won’t.”

His hand drifted to my nipple and toyed gently with it. “What if we got married? He wouldn’t be a bastard then.”

The words hung over us, almost visible in the silence.

I was tempted. Oh God, how I was tempted.

I said the words slowly. “Adam. Your uncle would never permit that. A gentleman does not marry his whore.”

He shot up from the bed, tossing the covers aside. His motions were quite angry as he pulled on his clothing, which we had left scattered around the room. He was still shrugging into his coat as he opened the door.

“Adam?” I called, my voice shaking.

He glanced back at the last moment. “You arenot my whore.”

A moment later he was gone.

#

With far more cunning than I had ever shown before, I set about my plan. Now that the words had been said aloud, I knew it was what I wanted, more than anything else. I wanted Evelyn for my wife. I wanted her sweet body wrapped around me every night for the rest of my life. I was not going to take any changes of losing that.

It was for that reason that I did not go to Uncle Andrew with my request. First, I needed someone in my corner. Someone who, luckily, knew nothing, either of our liaison, or of Evelyn’s way of entertaining herself since her husband’s death.

Aunt Julia reacted with even more support than I could have hoped. She actually clapped her hands with delight when I told her I had proposed to her dear friend and been accepted (the second part had been a harmless white lie). With her firmly in my corner, I took her with me when I went to tell my uncle the good news.

Uncle Andrew’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I hardly think -“ he began, but was cut off by a look from his wife.

“Andrew. Surely you cannot object.”

“I don’t object. I am concerned. Adam, you are still very young. Are you certain this is the best choice?”

“Yes.”

Uncle looked at me expectantly, but I did not elaborate.

“Julia, will you give me a moment with our nephew.”

I nodded to her. With a huff at being excluded, she turned from the room.

Uncle Andrew crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve got a by-blow on the way I assume?”

“No, I do not,” I said firmly. “Though Evelyn may have a seven-month child after the marriage.”

He looked me over carefully. “There are other ways to deal with such inconveniences, Adam.”

I only glared at him.

“She’s a luscious fuck, I have no doubt,” Uncle said slowly. “That’s why I chose her for you, m’boy. But that doesn’t mean you should be making decisions with your cock instead of your brain.”

“I’m going to marry her, Uncle. I am not here for your permission. I am here only to inform you of my decision. Which, incidentally, was made with neither my cock nor my brain. It was a decision of the heart.”

“You cannot marrywithout my permission, my boy. Not until you are twenty-one.”

“In that case,” I said deliberately. “Perhaps Aunt Julia will be interested to know that you whored her nephew out to her best friend.”

Uncle started. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would. And then, my dear uncle, I would take Evelyn to Scotland, scandal be damned. Now, you can allow us to marry quietly, or I can stir up a great deal of trouble in your own marriage. I doubt Aunt Julia would be pleased with the idea of sleeping with a panderer.”

Uncle sputtered for a moment or two, then, slowly, an ironic smile spread across his features. “I never thought the day would come when you would best me, Adam. I congratulate you. Perhaps you should inform my dear Lady Wilforth of her nuptials tomorrow. I shall see to a special licence.”

#

He came striding into the breakfast room with a triumphant step and a beaming smile on his face.

“Tomorrow!” he said succintly. “By special license.”

I only turned in my seat, looking out the window. I had not wanted this. I would never have wished to part this way. But I had to save him from his own folly.

He crossed to me, I took my chin between his fingers and forced me to face him. “Evelyn. We’re going to be married tomorrow.”

“No,” I breathed.

“Yes.”

“Adam. We’re not going to marry. Women like me don’t marry m - boys like you.”

“Women like -?”

I could not turn my head because of his grip on my chin, I looked down to my lap to avoid meeting his eyes. “You’ve been an entertaining fling, Adam, but that’s all. I’ve been trying to let you down gently, but you would not take the hint.”

“Evelyn. You don’t understand. I lo -”

I interrupted quickly, before he could say the words aloud. “I did not wish to hurt your feelings, but I’m simply tired of you, little boy.”

The last two words seemed to enrage him. Not a red, blinding rage, but a cold, black, calculating one.

He took me roughly by the arm and pulled me up from the chair. I found my hips pushed against the breakfast table. Standing behind me, Adam roughly pulled my skirt up to expose my backside.

His hand slipped between my legs and fingered my sex. I did not struggle. It took only a few strokes for it to become very wet against his fingers. “You are going to hear it whether you want to or not, Evelyn. I love you. And I’m going to show you right here and now.”

I heard him rip open his breeches, without further foreplay, he pushed into me, hard. I gasped.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“No.” The word was faint.

He slowly moved out of me, then rammed back in. “Do you love me?”

“N-no.”

He pumped slowly out and in, asking the question with each thrust home. I answered each time in the negative, but my voice shook more and more. He kept the rhythm slow, allowing me blinding pleasure, but would not let me come. When I did, it was going to be violent, he would see to that. He had not had my body nearly every night for two months without learning its responses.

He gave me two quick pumps in succession, then slowed again. I whimpered, needing desperately to come.

“Do you love me?”

I managed to shake my head.

He pumped me three times, stopping again. “I know you love me, Evelyn. You know I know it. Just say it. Say it and I’ll let you come. Say it.”

He gave her another quick pump to emphasize his words.

I burst into sobs. It was too painful. Too pleasurable.

“I love you,” I shouted. “God, how I love you, Adam.”

He gave me what I needed. Even then, it was not blind rutting. He was after one thing. I squirmed beneath him, trying to resisted the power of what was coming, to resist my own body’s reactions. Reaching around me, he unerringly found my clit and rubbed it roughly. I screamed with the intensity of the orgasm, my arms collapsing, and I fell forward against the table.

“There,” he whispered forcefully. “You feel that? Have any of your little boys made you feel like that?”

“N-no,” I whimpered, my voice muffled against the wood of the table.

He was still pushing into me. I moaned with every thrust through my sopping sex. He finally came with a rough jerk of his body and pulled out, guiding me, limp, back into the chair. I turned her head weakly, looking up at him. There were a hundred emotions in me at that moment, all fighting each other. Disgust, longing, satisfaction, defiance, resignation.

He knelt before my chair, between my legs, and, reaching under my skirt, started playing with me.

“I’ll do that to you every night,” he whispered, half in threat, half in promise. “That’s my baby in you. If you get rid of it, I’ll put another one there, and another and another.”

“Oh, God!”

“Marry me.” He found my clit and pressed. My sobs redoubled. “Marry me!”

I turned my head slightly. My eyes met his.

“Y-yes.”

The End