Aristocratic tastes (MaMU/Maribelle)

	It wasn't her fault. Of course, that was the perpetual cry of the guilty, but in this case it really wasn't her fault. He was so forceful, so irresistible and personable that she couldn't help but succumb to his whims. Maribelle prided herself on her force of personality but still she folded before the grandmaster, letting him do as he pleased. And worst of all was that she found that she wanted it. She felt -- free, relieved when she didn't have to direct how things would go and just let him take control of the situation and of her. Robin had a grip on her for longer than this affair had progressed, starting in the days and weeks of the first war of their grand campaign. But the first time he had taken her, by 'force' (for she had not truly resisted) in a dark corner of a supply tent where no one would stumble upon them was after she was betrothed, promised to young Ricken who was a nobleman of some stature and respect and yet did not foster the same sense of desire that the thin, angular Plegian caused in her. Maribelle's first time had been short and rough, a hand over her mouth to stifle her while he took her in the days leading to her wedding and often she thought about it, vulgar thoughts running through her mind over and over and amplified even more by the lack of consummation in her marriage. For all his complaints, Ricken was young, too young to have the boldness necessary to assert himself over her.
	And thus their affair had continued. Maribelle saw the glint of surprise on Robin's face when she came to him on her own in the week after her wedding night, which had turned to a quickly hidden expression of shock when she demanded release from him. He had not refused her in that heated moment and still she found herself coming to him again and again to succumb, years later. Ricken had eventually found some of his courage when he grew older, and she loved him dearly but still she hungered for Robin's touch over that of her beloved husband. So here she found herself, walking to Robin's 'office' in the temporary barracks gifted to them by a minor Valmese lord for the purposes of organizing an invasion. There would be no suspicion of her for going to see him alone -- why, on the way there she ran into Cordelia, presumably returning from being instructed on how to order her assigned volunteer forces in the coming battle. Maribelle's anticipation built as she stood in front of the oaken door, taking a moment to build her courage before knocking the customary three times, short and sharp.
	"Enter." Robin's voice was harsher and more commanding than usual, the long hours taking their toll on the officers of the army, causing her to shiver. Like this, he would be even less gentle than usual, and she found herself both dreading and awaiting that. Still, she had an image to uphold from any peeping eyes in the hallway. Her posture perfect, she hooked her constant companion, her parasol, under one arm before promptly pushing open the door and stepping inside, closing it behind her with a final thud. The paperwork had only piled up from the last time she had been in this office, a stack nearly half a foot high in his 'in' box. Still, despite his disheveled look and harsh tone(had he slept in the last few days?) he seemed almost cheery, small smile on his face when he looked up from his work at her. Robin didn't say anything, eying her up and down while he waited for her to speak first -- another little game of his.
	"I needed to speak with you. About--" she hesitated for a mere moment, resolve hardening in her. "About our lectures on the commoners." It was supposed to be coded speech but even she knew how bad that was and how obvious it would be even to people who didn't know about them.
	"Is that all, then?" There was that harshness again. She could feel that warmth of embarrassment -- or arousal building in her when he spoke. "And you came alone." His voice had a strange sense of finality to it, as if how this was going to play out was already decided. Maribelle nodded. She didn't need to say anything here, and it's not like she could be any less ladylike in this position anyway. Robin sighed, dropping his pen in it's inkwell and standing, chair sliding back on the stone bricks with a harsh screech. His coat was already off on the back of his chair anyway, but he didn't make to take off his shirt when he walked over to her. The parasol was pulled out of her arms and tossed -- tossed! -- onto a nearby chair in the otherwise sparse room, leaving her hands with nowhere to go. She faltered for a moment, crossing them in front of her only to have them pulled away from her chest and at last dropping them to her sides, the warmth on her face when he tugged at her shirt, buttons coming undone  under his hands and releasing her chest to him, which he wasted no time in appreciating.

	It was a shame, Robin thought, that she hid herself so thoroughly from the world. Maribelle was beautiful by anyone's standards, perfectly groomed hair and with a womanly swell to her hips and chest that had inspired his desire for her in the first place. The blush on Maribelle's face and her wide stance while he pressed her into the wall projected her desire loud and clear to him, but he had other plans for her today. She didn't object when he turned her, and she didn't protest when he pulled her pants down, nothing but her panties covering her from his sight. He wanted. Oh, how he wanted her right now. But he would be patient. Slowly Robin ground his hips into her, pressing up and into Maribelle, his pants and a thin strip of cloth all that separated them from ecstasy. She pressed back into him, a choice between the cold stone of the walls on her bare skin or pressing onto him made her choice clear enough for him. He stepped back for a moment, carefully pulling down the lacy underwear down Maribelle's firm cheeks and dropping them down her legs. His own pants rustled as he undid them, Maribelle half-turning to look before looking back at the wall. When they were undone and the tightness in his pants was free, he pulled her away from the wall, just a bit further and further till she was bent at the waist, arms pressed against the wall to keep her upright and head hanging down, watching him between her legs.
	A mumbled incantation and the flick of a hand, and his erect cock was suddenly slathered in gel, the spell had been unclear on what it actually was, but it was slippery and it didn't burn him so it would do for the here and now. Robin huddled up behind her, head at her dripping entrance, which he ever so thoughtfully slid up and down, up and down, the gel mixing with her lust before he pulled back and up, pressing against a rather different entrance. Maribelle's head shot up, and he tried not to let the amusement run into his voice. "Get ready." Her voice had gone high and shrill as she spoke with words jumbling together in almost-panic. "Wait, Robin, that's the wrong-" Her voice jumped about two octaves straight up when he pressed into her roughly (but more gently than usual, he reminded himself) , the heat unimaginable and friction nearly unbearable, and he had only worked the head into her. Another short spell, and she relaxed ever so slightly on him, although Maribelle's back and head had arched themself and her voice still stuttered. "Y-you brute! How dare you, you uncultured!-" She cut herself off with a groan when Robin pressed even further into her. She was tight in here, tighter than her usual offering to him and he took a moment to pause and revel in the sensation when he was all the way inside of her.
	It was a taboo sensation, yes, but that didn't stop Robin from moving again after that moment of stillness for him. Her grunts were significantly less ladylike than usual while he pressed her into the wall on his cock, the blush on her face visible from her ever so slight turns to make sure that yes, he was currently taking her ass, and the flush had even spread to her upper shoulders and back. Still, as much as it was entertaining to watch her reactions, he did have a vested interest in making her happy, or at least unhappy in a good way, so one of his hands had found it's way down underneath her stomach to tease her neglected entrance while the other pulled her back onto him when he thrust into her. Maribelle didn't take long before she began to moan in time with his thrusts, unformed words or whimpers of "robin" making it out of her mouth while he plundered her again and again. Eventually (maybe five minutes into his ravaging, he thought) she began to gasp out her excitement, and actual words rather than fragments or just his name left her mouth again. "Oh, you brute!" she half-moaned, half giggled. "To think that a commoner like yourself could take a noblewoman in this way--!" Her voice hit Robin harder than he would like, stiffening again inside her and even moreso when she continued to speak. "Well then, I suppose in the end I must yield to the great unwashed. Come, fuck me in my noble asshole!"
	Well, even if it could use work in the dirty talk department at least her voice hit him like a sack full of bricks and at least she was enjoying herself in this little dirty endeavor. The tightness in his stomach and the twitching of his cock (as much as it could twitch when buried in something so tight) put him on a bit of a tight schedule on the ravaging. He thrust into her, harder and faster than before but each thrust only prompting a moan and giggle from Maribelle, her face spread in a broad smile as she tried to look back at him while he thrust into her ass. The heat was impossible, her asshole dragging on his cock when he thrust in and out -- he couldn't take it anymore, and his strokes grew fast and rough, both hands on her hips dragging her back. In moments she came, voice suppressed by a hand over her face for a moment before being dislodged by another thrust into her and she sobbed words out to him. "Then come, come you filthy barbarian! Pollute my noble asshole with your filthy, common seed! Paint my insides!" Her eyes narrowed, and the single eye that met his filled his soul with ice. "Send me home dripping your mark." The low hiss of her voice was what finally pushed him over the edge, and he came with a teeth-clenching groan and spurted into her ass, still thrusting to bury his claim inside of her forever.
	Robin left her there, collapsed at the foot of the wall and still leaking his seed before he put on his pants again and returned to his paperwork. Maribelle recovered within a few minutes and quietly pulled herself back together, clothing herself and trying to hide the stains on her clothes as best as she could. Why she gave him a kiss as she left was beyond him, but sometimes women liked to do these things. Heaven knows he didn't understand why Maribelle chose him for this, but he was going to milk it for all it was worth before she understood how much men desired someone like her. The biggest surprise of the day was when she opened the door to leave and let in a very red in the face Noire, who sat down for a minute, legs crossed in awkward silence before she actually got around to haltingly talking about what she needed done. Well, another person he would have to bribe or blackmail for silence. The things he did for his friends...
	When the children came, Maribelle and Robin had a bit of a discussion. Not a discussion with words, this time traveling nonsense left them with little time to actually talk, but rather a glance across the mustering field which held more meaning than it probably should. She only looked at him for a moment between her lively chat with her suddenly enlarged family, but he could see that surprise and worry on her face when Brady had that cold, calculating look in his eyes that was nothing like his 'father'. Still, Ricken saw enough of himself in his son that the possibility never crossed his mind, but Maribelle knew that Robin was more than just a potential boss for Brady. She needn't worry, Robin thought to himself as he directed the army into motion. Most of the children were his anyway.