Delia was so filled with anticipation about what the day would bring that she was awake well before daybreak. Without the light from a window the only way she knew was that the hall outside her door was silent. There was not so much as a footfall to be heard, which meant that the sailors on the Victoria must still be sleeping. She tried to close her eyes and fall back asleep once more, but quickly discovered that it was futile. She was wide awake without a thing to do to keep her occupied.
She could light a candle and read more of The Three Musketeers. Or…
Seized with sudden excitement, she lit a match, careful to shield the tiny flame in her cupped hand until she was able to light the candle. Then she carried it to the small table right below the looking glass and set it down. Sucking in her breath as though the sound of her breathing would awaken someone and alert them to what she was doing, she hitched up her nightgown. Then she turned and peered at her reflection in the mirror. It was dim lighting, and yet she could still make out the welts from the cane that crisscrossed her bottom.
The sight of the angry red marks did something to her that she did not understand. Her belly flipped and her mouth went dry. Her eyes strained for a closer look, and indeed, she did not think she would ever tire of seeing the evidence of her punished rear. It was foolish, she knew that, and yet she could not seem to help but look.
She felt a stirring in her belly and next thing she knew, Delia was back in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. But her nightgown was up around her waist and her fingers were exploring her moist sex. It was something she had never done before, and she had not the faintest idea where to start, only that she could not drown out the call to touch and be touched.
As she stroked the outside of her lip with a finger, she arched her back and gasped aloud at the sensation. It was pure heaven and once she had begun, she could not stop. A test of her folds showed that they were wet, and she gingerly inserted a finger until it was moving inside her. Delia felt the urge to scream and covered her mouth with the other hand just in time.
Get control of yourself. But it was easier said than done. Now that she had discovered this hidden jewel, she did not think she would ever want to stop. She had inserted another finger and was plunging them in and out with confidence, her breath quickening, her pulse racing. Something wonderful was happening to her. She did not know the name of it, not that it mattered. The only thing that she cared about was that she’d get to do it again.
Delia was so lost in herself that she did not hear anything until the knock on her door. The sound reverberated throughout the room, jarring her so that she felt her heart jolt in her chest. She froze, her fingers inside her.
“Please… I am not feeling well,” she called out feebly.
But he either did not hear her or did not choose to heed her because the door opened and he strode inside. “Good morning.”
She did not know what to do. Did she remove her hand? Any movement at all would attract his attention and, she feared, give her away. “G-good morning.”
The admiral turned toward her, his brow furrowing once he saw her. “What is it, Delia? Are you ill?”
“Ah… no… not… no,” she stammered.
“Well, then what reason do you have to still be abed?”
For the first time she noticed that he was not carrying the usual breakfast tray. “I did not realize the latest of the hour,” she replied. This much was true. “I did not hear any voices, or…”
He smiled. “Yes, well, I told everyone to clear off this hallway so that your rest would not be disturbed.”
It was a thoughtful gesture and under any other circumstance, she would have said so. But her embarrassment at the predicament she found herself in kept her tongue tied.
“I thought given that word of your presence on board has spread that you might like to join me for breakfast in my quarters.”
Delia’s mouth dried. She wanted so dearly to say yes, she was indeed eager to go, but she could not leave with things unfinished.
The furrow in James’s brow deepened. “Are you quite certain that you are feeling well?”
“Yes. Of course.” She tried to smile. But she must not have been convincing, because he strode toward her in quick, purposeful steps. “No, wait.”
But before she could grab the quilt and pull it tighter around her, he was whipping it off the bed.
Delia’s cheeks burned hotly as she lay exposed, her gown pulled up to her waist, her fingers inside her pussy.
James’s eyebrows arched higher than she had ever seen them go—nearly to his hairline. “Tsk, tsk.” He clucked his tongue at her. “You should know better than to lie to me, my lady.”
In one quick movement she sat up, yanked her gown down and pulled her knees to her chest. She buried her head on her lap. “I did not lie,” she mumbled.
“You asked if I was unwell, I told you I was not. I did not lie, sir,” she insisted, though she did not dare look into his face.
He was silent as he considered her words. Then he surprised her by saying, “You are right, my lady. Next time I suppose I will know better what question to ask.”
Delia wished as hard as she could for a giant wave to capsize the ship so that she might drown and never have to speak of this embarrassment again.
“If you are quite done, I will wait outside for you to dress and we can go to break our fast.”
Surprise made her look up at him. “You are not… not angry with me?”
“Why would I be angry with you, poppet?”
She flushed, pleasure warming her cheeks this time. “I thought… I thought perhaps… it is unladylike. Unbecoming. I feared…”
Understanding lit his face and he smiled at her. “You feared I would spank you for this horrible breach in ladylike behavior?”
“You are quite right, madam, and I shall.” Before she could so much as utter a protest he had closed the remaining distance between them, taken a seat and pulled her over his lap.
“James… please… please, don’t! I promise I shall never—”
“Oh, once you have felt how good it feels, I suspect you shall.” And then he began to spank her bare bottom. His hand was cupped and the spanks were firm, but they did not hurt. He gave them slowly, one cheek, then the next.
Because she had been caned on the bare the day before even the gentlest of spanks would have caused her bottom to sting. But much to her surprise she found that it only increased her ardor. Before long she felt herself grinding over his lap.
She nodded, mewling her assent.
The admiral obliged, increasing the strength behind the smacks just slightly and he continued until she was biting down on her palm to muffle the sounds of her pleasure. She could feel that her bottom was pleasantly pink and her sex had dripped juice down her thighs.
Before she knew what was happening, he had slid her off his lap. “We are going to be late for breakfast,” he murmured sexily.
“Are you going to spank me for that, too?” Her eyes sparkled up at him.
“Do not be cheeky, poppet. Especially when I was about to help you.”
Her breath hitched and her tummy flipped. “Help me… how?”
“This is your first time,” he observed, nodding at her sex.
Delia felt her cheeks heat once more. “Yes.”
“I thought perhaps you would like some advice on how to proceed.”
His eyes felt like a caress that radiated down her body even though he kept his gaze respectfully on her face. “Yes… please.”
“Put your fingers in… yes, like that. Now, if you move them in and out… perhaps a bit faster?”
Her heart was pounding wildly and it was only partly due to the fact that pleasure was coursing through her. She had never thought a moment like this was possible. That a man she very much liked would, instead of being horrified at her unladylike behavior, help her achieve her pleasure. There was something deliciously, decadently naughty about it, and she was coming to find that she liked to be chastised.
“Perhaps it might be better if I showed you. Will you allow me?”
Delia could not breathe. She had not thought this morning could get any better, and here he was, showing her how wrong she was. She had lost the ability to speak and could only nod.
The admiral dropped down to one knee and placed a hand over her fingers that were in her pussy. His hand was so big compared to hers, so warm and strong. Hardly able to believe that this was real and not some figment of her overactive imagination, Delia watched in wonder as he began to guide her hand. At first, her fingers moved slowly at his direction, plunging in and out of her sopping folds, making loud, wet noises that made her blush.
James, on the other hand, smiled to hear them. Then he was moving her hand faster while she bit down on her bottom lip to contain the moans. “No, don’t. I want to hear you, Delia.”
“I cannot,” she gasped, scandalized and excited all at once. “What if someone were to hear?”
“No one will hear. I cleared out this hall, remember?”
“Still… I could never. I would be too embarrassed,” she gasped, enthralled by the feelings he was causing in her.
“I assure you, no one will hear.” He moved her hand with quicker speed than ever before and she could not help but cry out despite her protests. As soon as the sound—a groan of pure ecstasy—had left her, his mouth was on hers, his tongue filling her mouth and stopping any sound from escaping.
Delia was stunned at yet another first, the second in the first hours of the day. She kissed him back, tentatively at first, for she had never kissed a man before. But as she grew accustomed to the feeling of his warm lips against hers she felt her passion rise. He encouraged her fingers to move faster still, pounding a rhythm inside her, in and out, in and out. Her cries fell into his mouth and she felt her body flood with pleasure that she had never known was possible. She felt every muscle tense and then she was shaking as wave after wave of delirious delight washed over her.
He kissed her, drinking her screams of ecstasy until she could take no more.
When they broke apart, she was breathless, and yet, deliriously happy to be so. Her eyes fell, and she happened to see a bulge in his trousers. Boldly, she reached for it, stroking it wonderingly with a finger.
James growled low in his throat, but did not sound displeased.
“May I… may I see it, please?”
He hesitated, but only for a moment before untying the laces of his breeches. His cock sprang out toward her, large and throbbing.
Delia’s eyes moved swiftly to his face, unsure what to do next. She was a maiden in every sense of the word, and her eyes widened at the sight of his manhood. She did not feel frightened as she had expected to feel when she first bedded a man. Instead, she was filled with wonder as she reached out toward him.
He did not give her any instruction, nor did he scold her when she touched his hardened member. Her touch was light, hesitant at first. But when no reprimand came, she allowed her fingers to explore. The skin of his manhood was soft to the touch, though it quivered as her fingers stroked.
“Do you… do you want me to stop?”
“I probably should, and yet… your touch does things to me that I cannot help but crave.”
She could not help but smile. She relished the thought of him craving her. “Do you think… might we…”
Her cheeks burned with the knowledge of how improper her thoughts were. She was nearly too embarrassed to ask him. He could see the question on her face, surely?
“What is it, my lady?”
When she dared look at him, she was surprised to see his familiar eyes dancing back at her. Perhaps he did know what she desired and was taking added pleasure in making her ask. The scoundrel! Why, she should show him by stopping this at once! But even as the thought flitted through her head, she knew she would do no such thing. She could not deny the throbbing of her sex, not if there was hope that her longing would be sated.
“Delia? If there is something you want, just ask.”
“It is only… I was wondering…”
“Would it be too forward if I asked you to put it inside me?” The words tumbled out of her mouth of their own accord and the moment they were out she wished she could retrieve them, unless the answer was to be a resounding yes.
“It is forward, my lady.” He minced toward her, closing the small distance between them. “And yet, I am inclined to grant your most bold request.”
“You… you are?”
Her breath hitched in excitement.
“But only if you are quite certain this is what you want. It is no small thing, to lose your womanhood. And I would not do it at all, if…”
“If?” she inquired.
“If I did not love you.”
Those words were near enough to make her swoon. She laughed aloud in delight at the thought—here she was, finally the heroine in the most romantic of tales! James did not make her feel ashamed of her desire, or wretched for her unladylike request. In the midst of it all, he made her feel wanted.
“Yes, I am sure.” She knew her heart to be in every word.
“Very well then.” Gallantly, he swept her up into his arms and carried her, giggling, to the bed. He settled her onto the soft mattress and then he was upon her, looming above her as he kissed her face inch by inch as though he would never tire of doing so.
Delia lifted her face, allowing his kisses to fall wherever they would. Every inch of her was tingling with anticipation. Feeling emboldened, she reached up and began to unbutton his coat.
James paused in his tender ministrations long enough to strip the coat off and toss it aside.
Smiling shyly up at him, Delia slid her hands underneath his shirt, letting her hands graze the smooth softness of his skin. It was a sensation that made her shiver—no book she had ever read had told her the truth of these things. Perhaps it was for the best, else she might have attempted such feats with the boring dullards her mother had invited to call on her and missed the glory of this experience, of the admiral being her first time.
“Pull down my pants,” he ordered, the command as soft as velvet.
Only too eager to obey, Delia did just that, freeing his eager manhood and a deliciously fit backside. Every part of him made the longing inside her intensify—the sight of him was more scrumptious than afternoon tea.
“Spread your legs.”
Her legs parted, trembling ever so slightly.
Without a word, James ducked his head. His tongue teased her wanton, slick folds.
Gasping, Delia grabbed handfuls of bedsheet in each fist. It was a sensation altogether unfamiliar to her, and yet, it sent such shocks of pleasure through her that she wondered how she had lived this long without it.
“Do you like that, poppet?”
Altogether incapable of speech, it was all she could do just to nod.
His tongue, his wonderful, cool, skilled tongue, went back to work, licking up her juices while she mewled with desire.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please what, poppet?”
“Please… can you put it… inside of me?”
Blushing, she turned her head as though it would allow her to hide.
“Let me hear you say it, poppet.”
“Oh, surely I cannot. Whatever would you think of me?”
James stroked the side of her face with the tenderest touch. “I would think you were a good girl who followed orders.”
Forcing herself to meet his eyes, Delia’s face burned with shame even as she sought his gaze. “You would not think less of me?”
“I swear it.”
“Please… please put your… your cock inside of me.”
He smiled warmly down at her. “And next time, it will be easier.”
Before she had time to formulate a response—though her body certainly responded to the news that there would be a next time—the head of his cock was at her pussy. He pushed the tip inside of her, but then pulled back.
The tip of his hard manhood teased her wet folds before he once more pulled away.
“That’s not fair,” she objected, lower lip protruding. “We had a deal!”
The admiral chuckled, which did nothing to cool her ire. “We did, and I am a man of my word, as you well know. However, I say when, and where, and for how long. You will do well to remember this in the future, my lady.” And then he entered her, in one quick, decisive thrust.
Delia had expected it to hurt, at least at first, but the only thing she was aware of was profound gratitude at having her deepest wish granted. “Yes.”
“Louder, my little love.”
The flames in her cheeks renewed at the command, but as he moved inside her, his cock plunging in and out of her in quick, rhythmic thrusts, it was not hard to give him what he desired. “Yes!”
He sped up even more, pumping her full of pleasure.
Delia wrapped her legs around his back and her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She threw her head back, on the ride of a lifetime, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Yes! Oh, James!” Her body tightened—her soft breasts ached as her nipples pebbled, her thighs quivered and her belly clenched in the most pleasurable way. “Oh, Admiral! Oh, yes, yes!”
But he did not stop even as she cried out his name and gave voice to the passion she felt. Her body tightened like a vise around him and then she felt her sex clench his manhood before she found delicious, glorious release.
The admiral continued to pump in and out of her even as she loosened her grip. If anything, his own ardor seemed to have grown, and he shook the bed as he thrust inside of her. Moments later, he was grunting with his own release. Then he was falling down beside her, gently caressing her face.
“Sleep, my lady.”
“But… what about breaking our fast?” A yawn followed the question straightaway.
He smiled at her. “I am the admiral, remember? I employ the cook and I assure you there is time to rest before you are fed.”
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