“You liked it.”
Marion said nothing, but as she shook her head, her face colored.
Although he was filled with rage and pity and a fierce need for vengeance, the things he had heard had caused his loins to fill with a great carnal urge, and his penis pressed tightly against his pant leg, erect and hungry.
He reached for his wife. There was no need to lift her skirt; the ragged condition of the garment left her readily accessible and slipping his hand through a long tear, he dipped his fingers in the pool that collected between her legs.
“Don't lie to me. You're dripping wet.” He toyed with her hot, stiffened clitoris and felt her press down on his hand as his fingers slid into the opening of her vagina. She moaned softly. “Tell me you liked it; that you even liked being buggered by the ape-perhaps that best of all. Or was it the woman you liked best? rubbing your mouth against her slimy hole; feeling her coming in your throat? I understand, my love; I'm not angry, only you must tell me.” He pushed his fingers deeper into her, making her gasp. “You liked it.”
He was breathing hard, his cock hot to get inside his woman. Marion reached out for him, holding him to her as he continued to work his ringers in and out of the wet, pink walls of her sex.
“Yes,” she whispered so low that he could hardly hear. “Yes, I hated it, hated it, hated every moment, but it made me flow with passion.”
Sir David pushed her down against the couch, undoing his pants as he did so.
“And you want it again now, don't you?” he said. “Well, here it is.” He stabbed his throbbing organ into her writhing, twisting body, and his thighs tightened convulsively as he felt the almost scalding heat of her tight cunt pulling on him.
“You're mine, woman; my slave. You'll not be neglected. If you want a woman to suck, I'll get you one. Yes, that would excite me, seeing you licking out a woman's cunt, after I had used her.” Sir David could no longer control his lust, and he drove into her faster and faster, feeling her arch high to meet him.
“I love you. Oh God, I love you, David. Take me! Take me! I'm yours. Oh, David, fill me with your juice!”
She clutched his buttocks, digging in her nails, and Sir David felt his fluid pouring into her. She screamed so loudly he was afraid the servants would hear, then lay still beneath him, a soft smile on her face.
He got up, rearranging his clothes. Totally exhausted, Marion had fallen asleep. He lifted her in his arms, tenderness flooding in after the release of his passion, and carried her to their bedroom.
She continued to sleep while he undressed and washed her, and as he pulled the sheet over her he swore anew that Big Red would pay. He knew how deeply she had been marked, mentally more than physically, and although he was confident that his love and care could to do much to restore her, he hated unstintingly the man who had inflicted these scars upon her. This woman was his, for his use and pleasure only, and the giant beggar would learn that no one violated Sir Cassen's property. He would pay, and pay heavily.
Sir David undressed and got into bed beside his wife. She started as she felt his body touch her, but relaxed at the soothing sound of his voice. He cradled her in his arms and she fell back to sleep, snuggled against her man's chest.
By some miracle she had been rescued from a living hell and the balm of safety, the warmth and familiarity of the body beside her, had already started to wipe out the nightmare. It no longer seemed real; no longer seemed even to matter.
Sir David lay awake long into the night, holding the sleeping woman. It mattered to him; it would always matter. Only hot, red blood could wash this crime away.