The reason Annabel was here was likely that she felt endangered, both for herself and her child, after I brought Willabelle to my manor. Of course, her attitude toward me had shifted, but I didn't expect her to fall for me so quickly. Perhaps she truly believed I had changed, that I would treat her well now, but that alone wasn't reason enough for her to throw herself into my bed.
And yet, I wasn't complaining. Only a fool would reject a woman as beautiful as Annabel. My lips returned to hers, fragrant with the scent of roses.
As the heat of the moment surged like a storm in the dimness of the room, Annabel's hands rested on my chest, trembling in a delicate dance. Her fingers lightly clutched the fabric of my shirt, both clinging to me and questioning her own courage. When our kiss broke for a moment, our breaths mingled, the only sounds piercing the room's silence being the crackle of the fireplace and the quickening rhythm of our hearts. Annabel's eyes, on the verge of a blue tempest, shimmered with both fear and desire.
"Annabel," I said, my voice carrying both a question and a vow. "Is this truly what you want?"
Her voice blended into the room's shadows, trembling yet resolute. "I want it, my Lord," she said, her words spilling forth like a confession. "But… I'm afraid." The admission was raw and vulnerable, as if torn from the deepest corners of her soul. Leonardo's shadow still lingered in her mind like an open wound.
My hand slid slowly from her waist to her back, pulling her closer with gentle but firm resolve. "You have no need to fear," I said, my voice holding not the authority of a lord, but the comfort of a lover. "The old Leonardo is dead. In this room, there is only you and me."
Annabel's lips curved into a faint smile, fragile yet genuine, like a flower blooming amidst darkness. "I know," she said, her voice gaining strength. "And that's why I'm here. To leave the past behind."
In that moment, time itself seemed to pause. The flames of the fireplace danced on the walls, casting Annabel's face in a glow that made her look like a painting. Both delicate and strong, fragile yet resilient. My hand moved from her waist to her back, then to her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her silken dress. My fingers gently slipped the thin straps off her shoulders, and the fabric slid down her arms like water. Annabel's breath hitched, but her eyes didn't waver from mine. Instead, a resolve flickered in her gaze, as if she had sworn to break the chains of her past in that very moment.
I leaned in, my lips brushing against her neck. Annabel's scent — a dizzying blend of rosewater and spice — enveloped my senses like a whirlwind. My kisses trailed from her neck to her jaw, then to her earlobe, and a soft moan escaped her throat. That sound turned the fire within me into a blaze. But I wouldn't rush.
I guided her gently toward the sofa, my movements carrying the patience of a hunter and the finesse of a poet. As Annabel settled onto the velvet surface, her eyes remained locked on mine, still swirling with that blue tempest. Her dress had slipped down her hips, revealing the elegant lines of her legs. But that sight was only a fragment of her beauty. The true enchantment lay in her eyes. In that fragile courage, that surrender, that liberation.
"Annabel," I said, kneeling before her so our eyes were level. "I swear you will never be harmed again. No one will hurt you or our child. But tonight, we go only as far as you wish. The choice is yours."
Annabel's eyes froze for a moment as I knelt before her. Her blue gaze glistened; fear and hope collided within. The firelight cast dancing shadows across her face, each one reflecting the turmoil in her soul. Her hands pressed against the velvet of the sofa, fingers clutching the fabric as if seeking an anchor to steady her courage. Silence hung in the room like a heavy fog, broken only by the crackle of the fire and her soft, trembling breaths.
"My Lord…" she said at last, her voice just above a whisper, yet fragile as a thread. "If the choice is mine…" Her words carried the weight of a vow as they spilled from her lips. Her eyes flicked downward briefly, then returned to mine, and this time, a spark flared within them, a small but unyielding flame. "Tonight… I want you to think only of me. Only of us."
Her words cut through the room's dimness, sharp as a blade yet soft as a spring breeze. "Only of us," she said, as if sealing a spell with the final syllable. The spark in her eyes had grown into a fire, delicate but unquenchable. Her fingers released the velvet and reached for my chest, no longer trembling, now gripping my shirt with resolve. In that moment, I felt something unravel within her soul; Leonardo's shadow, the fears brought by Willabelle's presence, all of it was left outside this room. There was only Annabel, and only me.
I guided her gently toward the bed. As she lay back on the silken sheets, her eyes remained fixed on mine, swirling within that blue storm. Her dress fell completely to the floor, and her bare skin glowed like a masterpiece in the firelight, every curve and line telling a story of delicate yet powerful beauty. I approached the bed on my knees, my hands gliding from her waist to her hips. As my fingers traced her skin, Annabel's breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling.
"Leonardo…" she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of a vow. Her hands wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer. When our lips met again, the kiss became a blaze, a fusion of passion, desire, and liberation. My hand moved from her waist to her back, then to her shoulders, feeling her warmth, her softness with every touch. Annabel's nails lightly grazed my back, not in resistance, but in surrender, driven by her own will, her own desire.
I straightened and gently tugged her red dress downward. As I pulled it lower, Annabel's full breasts spilled free. Her bare skin shimmered like a statue in the dim light, every curve and shadow as if crafted by an artist's hand. The red dress cascaded to the bed's edge like a silken waterfall, and now Annabel lay before me, vulnerable yet radiant in her beauty. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, her skin's warmth defying the fire's glow.
My hands paused at her waist, fingers exploring the silken texture of her skin. Slowly, as if touching a sacred relic, I slid my hands upward, tracing the delicate curve beneath her breasts before gently caressing their fullness. Annabel's breath caught, her chest rising in response to my touch. She tilted her head back slightly, eyes half-closed, lips parted.
I unbuttoned my shirt, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Annabel's eyes widened for a moment, then shyly dropped. Her reaction only fueled my desire further. I could no longer hold back.
As I took her breasts into my mouth, my hands pulled her dress lower still. I continued until her black panties were removed, freeing her entirely. When Annabel let out a deep moan, my hand was already tracing her clitoris. Her moan echoed through the room's dimness like a melody; raw, uninhibited, and free. As my fingers moved gently over her clitoris, I felt her body tremble with each touch.
"Leonardo…" she whispered again.
I straightened, gazing at her. kWith her large breasts, slightly protruding belly, but slim waist and wide hips that defied her slim waist, it wasn't difficult for her to make my penis hard enough to hurt me. Our eyes met, and she swallowed hard, as if sensing my next move.
My hand paused on her hips, fingers brushing her silken skin. Slowly, with the reverence of approaching a temple, I lowered my lips further. As my lips reached her inner thighs, a soft moan rose from Annabel's throat. Gently yet deliberately, I brought my lips to her most intimate place, her vagina. When my tongue found her clitoris, her body arched like a bow, her breath turning into a sharp moan. My fingers gently held her hips as my tongue offered her a rhythm; slow, deliberate, but with a growing passion.
Annabel's moans echoed off the room's walls, harmonizing with the crackle of the fire. Each movement of mine was a dance dedicated to her pleasure. My tongue circled her clitoris, sometimes lightly sucking, sometimes tracing gentle circles. Her hands dove into my hair, fingers gripping tightly as if torn between pulling me closer or pushing me away. Her body responded to every touch, trembling, rippling.
"Leonardo…!" she said, her voice rising beyond a whisper, a plea, a cry. Her eyes locked onto mine, a fire blazing within that blue storm. "Please… don't stop... don't... Ahhhh- Ahgn!" Her words spilled like a confession, her fragile courage binding me to her with an even deeper passion.
I quickened my movements, but retained that poetic finesse. My tongue found a more deliberate rhythm on her clitoris, one hand caressing her hip, the other reaching for her breast. As my fingers gently pinched her nipple, Annabel's breath turned into a cry. Her body surged like a wave, trembling, and then the moment arrived. Her moans filled every corner of the room, her body shuddering at the peak of ecstasy, her hands gripping the sheets so tightly it seemed they might tear.
Slowly, I drew my lips from her skin, my hands still gently caressing her hips. Annabel's breathing was still rapid, her chest heaving, but her eyes now held the calm of a serene sea. That fragile smile returned to her face. Not born of fear, but of pure satisfaction.
But then, without warning, as I shed the last of my clothing, and revealed my erect, thick, and rigid member driven by a primal urge since the moment I came into this world. Annabel's smile vanished.