Duke I’d Like to F…

by Sierra Simone

  Jasper smiled. Ruth and Martha burst into applause. The duchess raised her glass.

  But her father’s eyes bulged. “What flummery is this? You saw the duke for a minute at the stall and a minute at church. How can you be in love with him? A woman grown does not have such missish fancies, daughter.”

  Ada glared at him. “It is not a missish fancy, Father. His Grace and I have been conducting a secret affair, meeting several times at an old cottage on this estate. Jasper is kind, intelligent, and generous and never have I been happier than my stolen hours with him. He makes me feel special. And beautiful. That I matter,” she finished at a yell, her voice so loud it would no doubt be heard in every square inch of St. Mary’s church.

  Mr. Ambrose squeaked like an outraged mouse, but her father actually collapsed into a chair, his face pale with shock. “Well I never.”

  “That was long overdue,” said Ruth, her lips twitching. “I’m proud of you, Ada.”

  “The vicar needs a drink,” said Martha, brandishing the decanter. “Take a swig, sir. You’ll feel better.”

  But Ada couldn’t look at her father. The only reaction she wanted to see was Jasper’s, the man who had probably bitten his tongue and stood on his own feet so he did not heave the vicar out a window. Instead, her lover had once again offered the freedom to make her own decision while standing ready and willing to offer assistance if required. “Your Grace?”

  A tender smile curved his lips, one that warmed her to the soul. “I gave you leave to call me Jasper.”

  “You did,” she agreed cautiously. “At the cottage.”

  “Indeed. Well, everyone knows about the cottage now, so perhaps the boundary needs to be extended further. How do you feel about coronets?”

  Ada’s breath hitched.

  A coronet?

  Jasper wanted to marry her?

  Unbridled joy surged through her entire body and Ada took his hands in hers before gazing deep into his eyes. “That sounds very much like you wish to negotiate a new contract. In which case we should probably retire to your library.”

  “I think that best,” he replied, nodding. “Plenty to discuss.”

  Ada glanced back at the others in the room. Ruth and Martha were beaming. The duchess was dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. The curate muttered about recalcitrant women, but her father continued to stare at the brandy decanter and shake his head. Gracious. The vicar of fire and brimstone certainly could not take a spoonful of his own medicine.

  “Do excuse us, ladies,” said Ada, curling her arm about Jasper’s as they turned and began to walk out of the parlor. “Very special business to attend to.”

  “Call me Lavinia,” said the duchess. “And if you’re going to play chess, don’t forget to lock the library door.”

  “Oh bloody hell,” said Jasper. “Mother.”

  Ada could only rock with laughter. She had triumphed over villainy and found happiness.

  Mrs. Radcliffe would be proud.

  Chapter Eight

  Two weeks ago, Ada had been bold and brave enough to walk into this library and make him an offer he couldn’t help but accept.

  Now it was his turn.

  Jasper paused and allowed the scent of leather-bound books and his favorite John Constable landscape on the wall to soothe him. Damn it, he shouldn’t be so nervous, but he wanted to say this the right way. A romantic way. Now Ada had declared herself, the onus was on him to share the stirrings of his heart, to push past the desire for rules and contracts and order and be vulnerable in front of a woman.

  “Ada…” he began, feeling like a fool when his throat closed over. Christ, he wasn’t a green lad meeting his first young lady!

  She patted his arm. “Let me lock the door, like your mother advised. There we go. Please do proceed, Jasper.”

  It was difficult to imagine a time when he wouldn’t enjoy the way she said his name. Lovingly possessive, but with a hint of wicked as well. Truly, Ada was a woman he could both laugh with and discuss the most serious of matters.

  “Earlier in the parlor I asked how you felt about coronets. And by that I meant marriage, in case it wasn’t entirely clear.”

  A little grin tugged at her lips. “Well, I did have my heart set on being Mistress of Peaches and Pastries, but if Duchess of Gilroy is the offer, then I suppose I could accept that. Are you going to woo me? I must say, it will be difficult to best this ghost-repelling dill pouch. That was an inspired choice; how I knew for certain that you saw the real Ada.”

  Jasper took a deep breath and reached for her hand. Now or never. “I will walk beside you, never in front. Whether here, in London, in church, or the most haunted castle in England. I will applaud your victories, and comfort sadness or when your eyes misbehave and trickle water. While my jests aren’t quite as beneficial as peaches and pastries, you’ll have an endless supply of both. I will share my thoughts and hopes and dreams with you, although I must warn you, you’ll be in them. Frequently. Wearing spectacles and probably naked because I am enraptured with your Renaissance figure. But most important of all…I’ll love you. Without condition or clause. From this day forward, forever.”

  Her eyes shone like stars, and tears trickled down her face. “I’m not crying.”

  “I know, misbehaving eyes,” he replied, lifting her hand to his lips for a kiss. He’d done it. He’d actually managed to say the words in his heart without stumbling or faltering, and he’d made her happy. Perhaps this love business could indeed be easy with the right woman. “Marry me, sweetheart…please.”

  Ada twined her arms about his neck and tugged his head down for a long, desperate kiss. Any notion of it being wholly sweet and tender incinerated in an instant as she rubbed herself against him and whimpered. “Jasper.”

  Drawing back a little, he cupped her beloved face. “You have not responded to my offer,” he said as sternly as possible when his own eyes threatened to misbehave and trickle water.

  “How could it be anything other than yes? Yes! I will say it once or twice or two hundred times. The tales are true, bold acts bring great rewards, because never in my wildest dreams did I think hiring a duke to be my first lover would result in forever after.”

  “Tell me you love me,” Jasper said hoarsely. “I find…I need to hear it again.”

  Ada giggled. “You mean when I’m not in the throes of orgasm or lecturing my father?”

  “Tell me,” he repeated, blotting her tears with his thumbs. “Minx.”

  Curling her fingers around his wrist, she turned her head so she might brush her lips across his palm. “I love you, Jasper. So much.”

  “Even if you’ll be a duchess?”

  “Even then,” she replied. “I fear I won’t be a very good one. I’ve never been to London, and the thought of fancy balls or directing hundreds of staff makes me itch all over. I want to make the lives of others better. That is the responsibility of peers. Too many ignore their tenants, leave bills unpaid, or compromise maids. The stories we heard from town…”

  “I know. And we are in perfect accord. You’ll be a splendid duchess, caring and thoughtful. But I hope you’ll always be my bold Ada, too. Who speaks her mind and revels in pleasure.”

  “I do so swear,” she said, her brown eyes glinting with pure wickedness. “On that note, if I recall correctly, we still have a contract until the end of the month, Your Grace.”

  Jasper leaned down and nipped her neck. “That is true, Miss Blair. And today, I won’t even charge you.”

  “How kind!”

  “I thought so.”

  “Hmmm. How to reward such a magnanimous act? A-ha! You mentioned that on the day we met, you thought of spreading me across that desk…”

  Jasper scooped Ada up in his arms, carried her across the library to the large oak desk, and sat her upon the polished wooden surface. His aching cock urged him to tear the fall of his trousers open and sink into the exquisite, scalding hot tightness of her without delay. But his mouth watered for the
taste of her honey on his tongue. It had been days, after all.

  “Blue gown,” he murmured as he unfastened the buttons at the nape of Ada’s neck before pushing the sleeves off her shoulders. “You wore this on the day we met.”

  “So I did,” Ada said breathlessly, arching her back and moving her limbs to assist him in the removal of her gown, petticoat, and stays, so she wore only a knee-length chemise. Her eyes grew heavy lidded, then she yanked at the bodice ribbon to reveal her breasts. Holding his gaze, she cupped them and rubbed her thumbs across her jutting nipples. Offering both for sample.

  Christ.

  Excited beyond belief, Jasper lowered his head and circled one areola with the tip of his tongue. She moaned, curling a hand around his neck to pull him closer, and he abandoned any idea of teasing her. His fiancée needed to come. Closing his lips around her nipple, he sucked hard to the rhythm of her panting cries, while his free hand delved under the hem of her chemise to inch its way up her inner thigh.

  “How would you like to come, sweetheart?” he asked eventually, while his fingertips stroked the bush of crisp hair between her legs. “With my fingers in your cunt? My tongue? My cock?”

  Ada wriggled on the desk, simultaneously trying to get him to suck her other nipple and touch her clitoris. He adored her unfeigned eagerness, her sensuality, how she didn’t hide her curves from him, but offered them to be pleasured, and pleasure in return.

  Soon she tugged his head back a little for another fierce, yet tender kiss.

  “Would it be terribly greedy,” she whispered, “if I said I wanted it all?”

  Jasper laughed. “Your wish is my command.”

  It was exceedingly difficult to concentrate when Jasper kissed her, even more so when his fingers stroked her most sensitive flesh.

  But one thought remained lodged in her mind: she loved him. And hearing he loved her in return, that he wanted to marry her and make her his duchess…well, nothing could be more magical. Or empowering, for being bold, and most gratifying, being herself had brought together a vicar’s daughter and a duke for hire, to start a brand new life together.

  One she couldn’t wait to begin.

  Well, after he’d made her come, of course. First things first.

  “Do not tease,” Ada gasped, as Jasper’s thumb no more than nudged her throbbing clitoris.

  “I haven’t heard you beg, sweetheart. Alas, I cannot lick your cunt, or fuck it with my fingers until you ask me very, very nicely.”

  She quivered with fierce arousal at his uncompromising tone, and the way his fingertips petted the hair between her legs, nearly parting it but not quite. Another thing she adored about Jasper: the way he remembered details. Her likes and dislikes, her erotic fantasies, what brought her the greatest pleasure. He knew she loved to hear in explicit terms what he would do; to be made to beg for it and then have her desires granted. Imagine that, a husband who didn’t restrict her curiosity or deny her natural lust, but encouraged it. A man who loved and desired her—flaws, foibles, quirks and all.

  How utterly freeing.

  Lifting her fingers, Ada smoothed a section of his hair that she’d previously disheveled. “I am so eager to be your wife. Because of the man you are, and the man you’ll strive to be. I hope I’ll make you as happy as you make me, in bed and out. Now, I’m begging you, my love. Please, please, please make me come.”

  A growl rumbled in his chest as Jasper unwound his cravat from his neck and placed it beside her on the desk. Next, he removed his jacket and waistcoat, and rolled up the sleeves of his fine linen shirt, revealing those strong, hair-dusted forearms. “Lift your chemise, Ada,” he rasped. “Show me your pretty cunt.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Slowly, so slowly, she dragged the fabric upward until it bunched at her waist, before lowering herself onto the cool, hard oak, ready and willing to be plundered. Jasper licked his lips even as his hands rested on her spread thighs, holding her open. Then, in a perfect, deliciously wicked movement, he leaned down and kissed her swollen clitoris as two fingers trailed inward, breaching her soaked sheath.

  Ada moaned in delight at her fiancé’s ruthless and relentless expertise. His mouth sucked and laved her tender flesh while his fingers curled inside her, finding a spot near her entrance that made her hips buck clear off the desk. She tangled her fingers in his hair, and shamelessly, wantonly, ground her pussy against his mouth and chin to increase the pressure, to allow his fingers deeper, anything to tumble over the edge into ecstasy. As though he knew she needed a little more, he swirled a finger from his other hand in her copious wetness, and gently penetrated her backside.

  She screamed his name, the intense sensation of his mouth on her clitoris and his fingers nearly rubbing together as he filled both her holes, hurling her toward the stars in an explosion of shaking, pulsing bliss. While her entire body still trembled, Jasper withdrew his fingers, then tore the buttons of his trousers to reveal his hugely erect cock.

  “I’m going to fuck you now,” he said, his eyes glittering. “Hard and deep.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, bracing her feet on the edge of the desk. “Oh, yes.”

  Jasper took his cock in hand, coating it in her honey. An instant later he plunged inside, stuffing her so full she whimpered at the fine and heady line between pleasure and pain. Every thrust seared her to the soul, every withdrawal provoked a protest, and Ada slid her hands under his shirt, loving the feel of his warm, sweat-dampened back, her fingernails biting into his skin each time he buried his cock to the hilt. As though she hadn’t just come, that glorious tightening began inside her once more, building and building until it abruptly released, and waves of ecstasy enveloped her again. Jasper groaned, his hips pistoning, until he yanked himself out and spilled his seed across her lower belly.

  This time he collapsed on top of her, and Ada held him close, the only sounds their ragged breathing and frantic thudding heartbeats. Eventually he gently extracted himself and sank back into his chair.

  “Forgive me,” he said with a grin. “I would remain there with you all afternoon, however my forty-year-old back does not appreciate such an angle.”

  Ada laughed and eased herself into a sitting position. “This was beyond wonderful, but I shall quietly admit to preferring a soft bed to a wooden desk. Or a door. I am nearly thirty after all.”

  “Ha. Still a way to go until your hair boasts strands of silver like mine. Alas, they will only become more prominent.”

  “Excellent,” she replied. “For I find them most attractive. I am marrying a man, not a lad. But one thing I would like to know…and it is a little delicate.”

  Jasper raised an eyebrow. “What is it about this library that invites discussion of delicate matters?”

  “Possibly the color of the rug. Or the vast array of books. But I must ask how you feel about children.”

  He hesitated. “Neither here nor there. In the past I was quite content with my brother Tristan as my heir. He and his wife Tabitha will soon welcome their sixth child.”

  “Goodness me,” Ada blurted, recoiling a little. “I was hoping you might be amiable to the thought of one. Perhaps two at the most. I would dearly love to be a mother, and soon, but have no desire to be endlessly pregnant. Too many sights to see and charitable works to undertake. Schoolrooms. I should like to supervise the building of a great many schoolrooms. And hospitals. Healthy minds and healthy bodies…are you…are you laughing at me, Your Grace?”

  Jasper stood, stepped forward, and kissed her soundly. “I’m thinking how perfectly, splendidly wonderful you are. But really, if you are going to make significant requests like a dozen schoolrooms, hospitals, or a babe in your belly, you should at least put your spectacles on first.”

  “Duly noted,” Ada replied, attempting to nod solemnly when she was about to burst with elation. “I wonder…must we return to the parlor?”

  “Sometime soon, I suppose. But I’m quite sure Mother, Miss Lacey, and Miss Kinloch can wrangle a
vicar and a curate. At least until the brandy runs out. After that the clergymen should probably start running.”

  “I agree. And I do so adore this library.”

  Indeed, the room would always hold a special place in her heart. Here, she had taken the first step in freeing her true self from the confines of her upbringing and society. Today, it had borne witness to the happiest moments of her life outside the old gamekeeper’s cottage.

  How glorious to know with Jasper there would be so many more.

  It was his wedding day.

  Jasper peered at the looking glass as he attempted an elaborate arrangement of his silk cravat for the twentieth time. He’d not expected this, then again, he’d never expected to meet a woman like Ada. His sweetheart.

  The battle between their families as to how the day should proceed had been amusing. His mother and Winslow had waxed lyrical over a grand ceremony at St. Paul’s Cathedral in London with half of society and the royal family in attendance, while Reverend Blair had unbent just enough to insist upon St. Mary’s in Charlton Kings with himself officiating.

  But Ada had not wanted either option, so Jasper had suggested he travel to London for a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury at Doctors’ Commons, followed by an intimate private ceremony in the drawing room at Gilroy Park. She’d approved of that idea, and invitations had been sent to Tristan and Tabitha, Miss Lacey and Miss Kinloch, Mr. Blair, and his mother and Winslow. Reverend Henry Foulkes, the brisk yet kindly vicar of St. Mary’s in Cheltenham for the past fifteen years, had agreed to officiate.

  “You’re looking surprisingly well, brother.”

  Jasper raised an eyebrow at Tristan as he sauntered into the bedchamber in his best man wedding finery, top hat dangling from one hand. “I would look better if this damned cravat would sit properly. Did you expect to find me hiding behind a curtain, perhaps? Curled up in the armoire?”