As the minutes began to pass, in-kind did Aldred's tempo grow. It was as if he'd move on only after complete satisfaction that he'd thoroughly fucked her at a certain speed, creating a slow but certainly present elevation in pace that inevitably began to rock the foundations of the bed, his movement into her causing the wooden structure to start to squeak and rock ever-so-slightly. His hand shifted to the side of her buttocks, pulling her back into him in concert with his thrusts and in conjunction with a slight pull on her arms exerted by the hand that continued to keep them in check. Low, bestial grunts would flow over her every so often, increasing in prominence as he continued to fuck her, harder and harder. Not once did he stop, or slow, nor did he accidentally slide out of her as over-eager men were prone to do, or even indicate exertion. Indeed, as far as exertion went, this was a pittance compared to the force marches and battlefield manoeuvring his body was subject to on a constant - his rate of breath barely elevated, his slow exhalations descending on her back like a warm breeze to contrast the cool one that entered beneath the door to their left, one which led out onto a private balcony. Every so often, a distant, muffled shout would work its way up - Aldred's men were still clearing areas of the castle, it would seem. In all likelihood, not a few other young, single women who'd strayed from the mothers were experiencing something similar to Danielle at the present moment, though at the hands of far less competent assailants, in the sense of both subduing and fucking.<br/><br/>With an unexpected suddenness, Alded's movements increased in fervour by another notch. The hand that had been placed on the side of her rear now found itself imparting an immobilising but not uncomfortable fraction of his weight on her upper back, pushing her shoulders down into the mattress as he continued to pound her pussy beneath her raised posterior. That too increased - the drumbeat was more frantic now, feverish. Aldred was not close - not yet - but he was most certainly in the throes of pleasure. His obscene tip explored new depths as the angle of his fucking transitioned from a horizontal slamming into more of a downwards-orientated drilling. The ruckus of their skin-on-skin chorus and the noises they made with their mouths echoed through the high-ceiling bedchamber.