Adaoire stood from their place beside the pen and strode toward the unbound bales of hay, tossing her atop the heap, rejoicing at her laughing and eager countenance. "Aye, girl," he breathed, stroking himself while gazing at her. "I'm gonna give it to you somethin' fierce.
She writhed in anticipation, curling her hair around her finger, pressing her legs together and biting her lip.
"Oh, I don't need no enticin'" he bellowed, unfastening his overalls. "I've been waitin' for this ever since you jumped on me when you came out of that fancy coach." His overalls were undone. He eyed her with rapacious fervor, gripping himself for her to measure the size she should remember accepting.
She lifted her skirts, keen to accommodate that which was so thick and invasive to her. The deviant flash in her eye glowed as he came to his knees. She spread her legs, inviting his large form between them, and he readily complied with her provocation, prevailing over her with a menacing crawl.
[...]
He hummed in menacing pleasance, his mouth grazing her breast and his hands pulling the flesh of her thighs. "Pull that down, girl," he thrummed, nodding toward the top of her gown. "I want those in my mouth."
She eagerly undid the top of her dress and moved the fabric aside only to have her breasts attacked by him. His teeth abraded her skin, his lips kissed her nipples, and though she was warned of how many bruises he would leave behind, she was desperate to receive him. He used her legs around him to his advantage and forced himself into her while lapping her supple breasts. He impelled himself between her thighs and grunted in exultation while foraying her small opening.
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