His slow forward press forced her open, and the surplus of fluids made the way gliding, yet still she had to be stretched around the blunted taper of his cockhead, drawn tight around the thickness of his shaft until she drew a breath in to a gasp that became a high, tight keen in her throat.<br/><br/>"You are... Brom," she managed, trying not to stammer, her voice raw, and her head only half-lifting, refusing to look at him. "You are Baronet, son and Heir of Ravenroost..."<br/><br/>The words jolted out of her slightly with the force of his movements, and His hands were tight and hard on her hips, undeniably strong, and she writhed a little bit in the bindings, heated upon him, pained and weary and growing close again to tears.