It is, all things considered, a very nice drawing room. Portraits adorn the walls and the heavy drapes are open to let starlight from the moonless night through. There's a table far too small for the large room with a pot of tea, a set of tea cups and an arrangement of cookies and fruit. Two oaken doors are firmly closed to one side, and to the other a single door is slightly ajar, the sound of sobbing coming from past it. Every once in a while it's possible to hear a page being turned in the other room as well. The drawing room on its own is silent, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock and then, with no prelude, an exclamation.
...once his hand starts cramping he might want to switch to just eating her out, he's not sure he can explain this concept but under the circumstances it seems probably safe to just pull her pants down and demonstrate.
Oh yes, she can stop and dig her hands into the ground instead, so long as he doesn't stop doing that with his tongue.
Eventually, the orgasms start coming farther apart, and slowly Lucette relaxes, her breathing evening out.
Then he will pull her pants back up and lick off his lips and get back to his feet. He offers her a hand up.
She lifts herself up.
"I may wish to take a moment to rest here before we complete our journey back to my manor."
"Sure. Do you want to be alone, I'm much less backlashed now and I can wait it out if you'd rather I go on ahead."
She doesn't ask what he was going to say the first time, but the second time she does.
"Oh, uh, I was - curious about whether that actually helped or if it would have taken only about this long to wear off either way, but I don't know that you'd know."
"I think it helped? At the very least it made the experience considerably less... difficult."