"Jesus Christ!" she heard him grunt in English, while his fingers ground deeply into her belly, making her cry out. She felt an increased pressure at her hips, then he was pulling and guiding her onto her knees, forcing himself up behind her. She didn't resist, but let herself be maneuvered, although the animalistic position completely embarrassed her. She had never kneeled in front of a man before.
Madeleine felt him inch closer between her widespread thighs, separating them even further with his knees, ramming his lust-inflated cock deeper and deeper, to the very hilt… his heavy, bloated balls swaying and slapping against her now erect and quivering clitoris as it peeked from its little shrine between the spread moist lips of her tight cunt. Stretched open this way, he was reaching an unmerciful depth inside her, forcing gasp after gasp of deceiving pain-pleasure from her panting mouth. Her back had already begun to ache from the cruel pressure of his hands about her waist, thrusting her upper torso down so that her buttocks loomed up toward his face. She had never even dreamed such debasement before in her young life; she wondered… how could she ever face anyone again?
The pleasure was growing… the pain lessening… a never-before weird, erotic sensation; her loins tingled and clenched and there began a tiny, maddening, electric-like prickling that instigated deep within her womb and seeped relentlessly through the raw nerve ends of her flesh. His groin pounded her buttocks with punishing, resounding emphasis. She heard little wailing groans commence to escape him, and her own sensations had begun to ripple through her cunt and out the inflamed, fleece-lined lips, dancing like fire across her thighs. He writhed and fucked into her, raising a whine from her throat with every in-plunge. Dear God, he seemed to be continuously growing inside her… and going higher and higher toward her throat. Her firm, youthful breasts heaved and jounced, their nipples distended, pebble-hard and tingling as they brushed tantalizingly against the linen of the bed, and she found herself waggling the stretched moons of her ass uncontrollably back on his spearing rod of flesh… ignoring her tormenting soreness, aware only of the great building pressure of fluid, screaming urgency in her loins… pressure that was reaching toward a fine point of sheer bliss.
This was it! What Jean Louis had tried to explain and was incapable of arousing in her. Mon Dieu… this was it…! She had come to the conclusion it could never happen to her… but it was! Oh God… oh God…! There was a tremendous ever-expanding balloon blowing up to an impossible size within her. Abruptly, she wailed aloud, an eerie shriek as the balloon exploded sending wild, ecstatic, liquid sensations to race poundingly through her loins, overwhelming her with utter joy, yet she screamed and screamed as the tears of frightening enchantment spilled down her cheeks in a rush of delightful relief.
Finally, she began to calm, but she was trembling like a leaf in a storm, her belly quivering, while he continued to incessantly thrust his massive prick into her moist, dilated vagina with driving ferocity, rasping and grunting like a madman and shoving her face into the bed with every wicked, forward plunge. Her momentarily forgotten soreness began to make its existence known once more; her passage bore the feeling of being massaged with steel-wool. She gnashed her teeth, praying now that she could endure it until he would cum… and then it occurred to her that he had taken no precautions… that once he squirted his life-giving sperm into her, she could become pregnant. A new wave of fear spiraled through her and she tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't have it. He clung to her hips savagely, ramming with vicious strokes; she tried to plead her situation but by that time he was muttering to himself, an incoherent sound that quickly graduated into a moaning, groaning agony.
She felt a numbed splitting pain as the brutal head of his deep sunk cock suddenly flared into a hugeness that threatened to tear the tiny clamlike mouth of her womb wide asunder. It jerked and began to spurt; she sensed the gushing hot, white semen shooting into her in seething bursts, sloshing around inside her belly with the effect of liquid fire. The pores of her tight, still palpitating vagina seemed to clasp around it of their own volition, the raw, pink sheath sucking and milking the jerking shaft as if governed by a separate brain of its own… once more spilling its near-virginal juices into the already flooded cavern of her involuntarily quivering pussy.
At last, he fell on her with a groan, his great weight causing her to collapse beneath him. She struggled for breath, protested and he rolled off her. She said nothing, but got from the bed and went into the bedroom to clean herself up and apply cold towels to her aching loins and battered young slit. When she returned he was asleep on the bed, laying fat and naked, his snores filling the room. Quietly, she crawled beneath the covers and closed her eyes, falling into an exhausted sleep.
Once in the night, Madeleine remembered, he had come to her again and she'd tried to protest, arousing anger in him. When she'd attempted to push him away he'd slapped her hard, then climbed up over her, stretching her thighs wide apart once again. She'd sobbed half-hysterically, but he'd ignored her, stuffing his rigid vile shaft into her tender and bruised cunt yet once more, his great bulk bearing down upon her mercilessly. And as his brutal, thick cock pummeled deeper and deeper into her tortured vagina, she could hear him sniggering almost insanely… and that was the second time she fainted that night.
Now, reflecting back as she lay there waiting for Antoine to come to her, Madeleine recalled how her misery and heartbreak had just begun. In the morning, she had awakened to find M. Keel gone. She had called out first, thinking him to be in the bath, but suddenly panic had seized her and she'd leaped from the bed naked, flinging back the door to see that his car was not there! God, how she had wept!
The proprietaire, an aged man named M. Rondeau and his wife, had sensed her circumstances and taken her to them, provided for her under their roof, and in turn she had worked as long as she could through her pregnancy, maintaining the cabins and keeping the house until her time came. They had even paid for Dr. Carey to deliver her, and advised that she give Igat up when the drunken physician had suggested he could put the child in a good home in Montreal where she could look forward to a full and respectable life.
God, how Madeleine wished she had never listened to them… her sweet, precious Igat… The loss was greater than she could ever have imagined… and once she had learned that the wealthy Rafael Girarde had her baby, she had immediately come to Montreal just to be close to her… happy if she were even able to catch a glimpse of her child on the street. If… if only there were some way she could make arrangements with Mr. Girarde just to see her… to talk to her once in awhile… it wouldn't be so bad, and maybe she could endure it… Perhaps if she went and spoke to the wealthy importer who held some sort of seat in government… He was probably a reasonable man… If only there was some way she could tell Antoine, and he would help… Why didn't he come to bed? She needed him so badly…
Madeleine tossed a few more minutes in her restless confusion, the steady stream of unhappy memories draining her until she closed her eyes in choked weariness. Why didn't he come… why didn't he…?
She slept.
CHAPTER FOUR
Antoine made himself a third scotch and soda. He sat in his favorite chair with his feet up on the ottoman and let the music toil at soothing him. He was still upset; completely confused about Galaxy Mining and Uncle Gaston, and a bundle of ragged, mixed emotions concerning Ginny Novak. He could hardly think of anything but the vivid memory of her soft, vibrant body pressing hotly against him in the playroom… her kisses and exuberant passion… her admittance that she had wanted him physically for so long, just as he had ardently yearned for her… insisting that they had to make love… even to suggesting their trysting place. God, it was wrong… wrong! And he knew it… such adulterous deceit behind his beloved Madeleine's back… and to commit against this man who had befriended and raised him… Christ, how low could a person sink? Well, he knew he was going to find out; he couldn't help himself. He would go to the summer house at Ste. Agathe des Monts tomorrow.