Nods humbly

"My Lord, I understand. Our harvest was small, and winter is upon us swift. I ha' but a few silver pennies left after purchasing seeds for next year's crop." She looks up at you with clear, honest eyes.

"Mayhap we could strike a bargain?"

"Doth thee think it wise? A woman alone in a cottage with a stranger from the castle?" She looks up at you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"If thee promises not to tell the priest, mayhap we could strike a deal in private. I have some mead I've brewed meself, and a hearth to warm thee." Madua's tone is light and teasing, but there's an underlying challenge in her gaze. She knows the power her womanly charms hold over men, especially ones like you, sent away from the luxury of the castle.

"Enter freely, and if thou be one of upright purpose." She gestures to the simple wooden bench beside the hearth, the only respite from the chill seeping through the thatched roof. The aroma of baking bread and stew simmering over the fire greets you.

"I'll fetch that mead. Thee likes a drink, right?" A hint of sultriness laces her words as she saunters over to a clay jar, her hips swaying invitingly. She pours the amber liquid into a chipped wooden cup and offers it to you, her fingers brushing against yours as you take it.

"What be thee called, my Lord Tax Collector?" Madua's demeanor has shifted to one of coy flirtation, as she sizes up the power dynamics between you. It's clear she wants something from you, and she'll use whatever tools she has at her disposal to get it.

Smirks and takes a sip from her own cup

"Steele, 'tis a manly name. Fitting for one with such... power and authority." Her eyes rake over your body appraisingly as she moves closer, standing so close you can feel the warmth radiating off her.

"Perchance we could reach an...arrangement, Lord Steele? One that benefits us both?" She leans in, her breath warm on your ear as she whispers.

"I could offer you... certain comforts in return for leniency on my taxes. Or mayhap you could persuade the Duke to grant me an extension. 'Twould be a shame to see a widow's hard work go to waste, now wouldn't it?"

Puts a finger to your lips to hush you. "Why don't you tell me what you want, my lord?" She backs up a step and lets her shawl slip from her shoulders, revealing the neckline of her simple dress. She walks her fingers up your chest, her eyes locked on yours.

"You can tell me, Steele. You can tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you." Her voice drops to a sultry whisper.

"I want to please you." Madua is a master of coyness and innuendo. She knows how to make a man squirm, to beg for what she offers. Her peasant's garb is askew, her hair mussed, and her eyes shine with lust. She smells of earth and woman, a primal scent that promises sinful pleasure.

Sinks gracefully to her knees between your legs, gazing up at you with hooded eyes. "As my Lord commands." She trails her fingers along the inside of your thighs, her touch electric even through your clothing. Her other hand finds the fastenings of your trousers, deftly undoing them.

"I must make sure this is what you truly want, Lord Steele." And with that, she leans forward, her hot breath fanning over you as she reveals her true intentions. Her fingers close around you, and she starts to stroke slowly, her lips parted in a sultry smile.

"This...is what you want, yes? The warmth of my mouth, the wetness of my tongue?" Madua keeps her voice low and steady, never breaking eye contact as she works you with confident movements. She's done this before, that much is clear. But for all her skill, there's an innocence to her actions, as if she's truly enjoying the power she holds over you.

Glances up at you, a wicked grin on her lips as she takes you into her mouth. Your eyes flutter closed for a moment, the sensation of her tongue swirling around you sending shivers through your body. Madua hums in approval, the vibrations only heightening the pleasure. Her hands continue to explore, massaging your thighs, your hips, her fingertips digging into your skin. She starts to move faster, taking you deeper into her throat, her movements fluid and purposeful. Every moan, every gasp of pleasure she draws from you only seems to spur her on further. She's in control here, even if she's the one on her knees. Madua's cheeks hollow as she sucks hard, her lips stretched taut around you. The slurping sounds of her work fill the small cottage, mingling with the crackle of the fire and your own labored breathing. Her eyes are closed now, lost in her own arousal, her ministrations more passionate than ever.

She looks up at you with smoldering eyes, still sucking and licking, her hand stroking in rhythm. She can feel you growing harder, your breath coming faster. She knows you're close. Madua pulls back for a moment, just the tip of you resting on her lips. She speaks in a low, sultry voice. "Do you like this, my lord? Do you like the way I make you feel?" Before you can answer, she dives back in, taking you deep again. She hums around you, the vibrations making you twitch. Her hand speeds up, twisting and pumping, while her mouth works in tandem. She's relentless, determined to make you finish. Her other hand creeps under her skirts, and you can just make out the rustle of fabric. It's clear she's lost in her own pleasure, her body moving in time with her strokes on you. The suction increases, her tongue lashing, and you can't hold back any longer. You're groaning, your body tense, and then you're spilling into her mouth. Madua doesn't stop, she swallows it all, milking you until you're spent. Then she pulls back, licking her lips, a smug smile on her face.

Licks her lips, still kneeling between your legs.

"I hope that...satisfied you, Lord Steele?" She looks up at you through her lashes, a wicked glint in her eye.

"Shall we retire to my bed for the next course, or have you had your fill?" She stands slowly, letting you take in the sight of her. The firelight plays across her skin, highlighting her curves. She's not a demure peasant girl anymore. She's a temptress, a seductress, and she knows it.

"And as for our...arrangement. What are your terms, my lord?" Madua is playing a dangerous game. But she's enjoyed herself, and she has no intention of stopping now. Her body aches with desire, and she wants you to quench it.

Smiles coyly and takes your hand. "Follow me, my lord. Our bedchamber awaits." She leads you to the far corner of the one-room cottage, where a simple straw mattress rests against the wall. Candles flicker, casting her in a warm glow. Madua turns to face you, her eyes smoldering. "You've had your pleasure, now it's my turn." She reaches for the ties of her dress, untied them slowly, letting the fabric slide off her shoulders and pool at her feet. She's not wearing anything underneath. Her body is on full display, the firelight dancing over her soft curves. She steps closer to you, her hand trailing down your chest.

"What shall you do for me now, Lord Steele?" Her voice is husky with desire, her breath coming in short gasps. She presses her body against yours, her breasts against your chest, her hips cradling yours. She wants you to take her, to claim her, to give her the release she craves.