Duke I’d Like to F…

by Sierra Simone

  They both hissed at the press of her pussy against his cock.

  On an impulse, he dragged his shaft through her folds, coating himself in her wetness, and teased the head of his cock against her clitoris. Her moan was his reward, thrumming over his skin like a deep melody.

  She lifted herself up slightly, but when he reached to angle his cock to meet her, she gasped, “Let me.”

  He held his breath as she gripped his shaft, and could not look away as she positioned him where she needed him, with the head of his cock tight against her entrance. He adored how bold she was, how in command of both of their pleasure. A glance at her face showed that her cheeks were flushed, and she bit her bottom lip as she made certain his cock was in precisely the place she desired. Slowly, she lowered, beginning to fill herself with him.

  Much as he wanted to see his cock slide into her, her expression enraptured him even more. Ecstasy filled her face as she leaned back to watch herself take him into her body. Pleasure doubled, both from the sensation of being surrounded by her tight passage as well as seeing how their joining affected her.

  When he lifted his hips, she said throatily, “Not yet. Let me sink onto your cock, inch by inch.”

  It took all his strength to keep still and not thrust up, plunging into her entirely. Sweat slicked his back as he held himself motionless. As she had said, she lowered slowly, moaning when he was in her to the hilt.

  “This is what you desired,” he rumbled. In this position, she was in control.

  “Yes,” she said, almost panting. “Yes, this.”

  For a moment, neither moved—which was a blessing because she felt so wondrous he could have climaxed without a single stroke.

  “Touch my breasts,” she instructed him. “Pinch my nipples with those gorgeous fingers of yours.”

  He did so, cupping her breast with one hand and lightly squeezing the nipple. Her head tipped forward as she let out a pleasured cry.

  “There are two of us here.” She gripped his shoulders. “Tell me what you want, Owen.”

  With her surrounding him, he was more himself than he’d ever been. It was reckless and untamed and he gave himself over to the freedom without fear. He growled, “Ride me now, Cecilia.”

  She lifted and lowered her hips slightly, the barest movement, yet her lashes fluttered with each subtle motion. Then she began to rock with greater heat and speed. He held her hips tightly as she found the angles she required, matching her pace so that he lasted. With every thrust, she ground her clitoris against him.

  A command rose in him, and he hesitated for a moment, troubled by what his wild impulse demanded. Yet, looking into her ecstasy-filled face, he found courage. She believed in him, in the pleasure he could give her, in who he was as a man.

  “Open your mouth,” he commanded hoarsely.

  She seemed faintly puzzled by his demand, but parted her lips.

  Sliding his thumb into her mouth, he rasped, “Lick.”

  Her tongue swirled around his thumb, and then, with a wicked little smile, she sucked on it.

  He pulled his thumb from her mouth, then brought it to her clitoris. His gaze held hers as he stroked over and around the sensitive flesh, matching the rhythm of his strokes within her.

  “Oh, God. Owen.” She cried out, her hands clutching his shoulders, her passage squeezing around his cock as she came.

  He continued to play with her, lavishing attention on her clitoris as he thrust. She came again, her body taut with the force of her release.

  Growling, he pulled from her as his own climax struck, the force as great as a tempest. She draped against him, pressing her face into where his shoulder curved to his neck, and he held her. They both shuddered and gasped, descending from the heights of pleasure. He loved the feel of her damp body against his. Stroking his hand along her hair and down her back, he cradled her close as a golden haze settled around them.

  She brushed her lips against his throat. “Based on the book, that wasn’t how I thought it would be.”

  Alarm pierced his fog. “I—”

  “It was better.” Her voice was low and drowsy, the voice of a satisfied, sated woman. “Much, much better.”

  He relaxed with a chuckle, even as strength surged through him. He had done that. He had brought her pleasure and exceeded her dreams.

  “The bed now,” she murmured.

  Gathering her up, he stood and carried her there. She smiled when her gaze fell on the herbs strewn across the linens, and when he lay her down, she took a few green leaves and rubbed them between her fingers to release their scent.

  “How are you so good at this?” she murmured in wonderment as he joined her beneath the coverlet.

  He flashed her a smile.

  Wryly, she said, “Here I thought I had so much to teach you.”

  “Far different to read about something in a book, versus putting it into practice.”

  She stroked her hand down his chest, and he purred when she raked her fingers through the hair that curled there. His own hands were not idle, caressing along her neck and arm, touching her because it was impossible not to touch her.

  “Whereas my knowledge of geology is surely less than yours,” she said.

  “I promise I won’t bring any samples to bed and describe their chemical structures as my chosen method of seduction.”

  She laughed, full and unrestrained, and it sounded different from the way she laughed when she was with his family. There was so much she kept hidden, so many layers, all far more complex than anything he’d encountered in his studies. He tried to push back against a wave of resentment, knowing he could never have more of her than this, tried to shove aside the bitter knowledge threatening to break apart the pleasure of merely being with her.

  “One subject of which I know little,” he said. At her questioning look, he explained, “You.”

  Her mouth formed a line. “Your cock was inside me minutes ago.”

  “Fucking you isn’t the same as knowing who you are.” He wove their fingers together, his palm pressing to hers. If his words could not convince her, maybe the truth of his body could.

  “Trust me—please.”

  “You are very dangerous. Not intentionally so,” she added when he started to object. “But there is much about you that could cause me harm.”

  “I swear,” he said, words firm with resolve, “that though I can’t offer you marriage, I will do everything in my power to protect you and shield you from any hurt. Your employment is not controlled by me, and I will never impel you to do anything you don’t desire. I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I know you believe that.” With her free hand, she traced the angle of his jaw. “Yet unlearning my wariness does not come easily.”

  He leaned closer so he could see all the colors in her eyes, the enthralling green and brown and gold. “Perhaps there are lessons we both can learn from each other. I’ve given you my honesty, but you must only provide what you are comfortable in bestowing.”

  She was quiet for a long time, yet she did not pull away, and he tried to take assurance from that. After many moments, she said quietly, “This is only my second post as a governess. My first was for a couple who were known for their artistic, progressive ways. It was…much freer than my life had ever been before. The rules and dictates that govern society weren’t much regarded with them.”

  Her voice was rich with pleasure, and her eyes shone with fond remembrance.

  “They traveled throughout the Continent,” she went on, her gaze far away, “and I traveled with them, teaching their daughter. When I wasn’t occupied with my duties, my employers gave me free rein to do as I pleased, and so I saw all the beautiful, glittering capitals, living as a local, discovering things about the world I had never known before.”

  She continued. “I took lovers. Sophisticated, unconventional men who helped me see that physical love, that sex, was a thing to be celebrated and enjoyed not just by men, but women too. Women could crave pleasure and seek i
t out absent of shame. And so I did.”

  “Sounds incredible,” he murmured. He battled with a tiny, jealous demon—no doubt those lovers she’d known had been men of experience, unlike himself. Yet those men weren’t here with her now. He was, and only moments before, she’d said he had surpassed her fantasy. In the absence of marriage, he could at the least give her ecstasy.

  “It was.” A shadow fell across her face, and she stared down at her hand, still holding his. “Then my employer, the husband, took an interest in me. Said that my eyes and body were opened now, and he’d been waiting for the right time to bring me to his bed.”

  “You didn’t want to become his lover,” Owen said, reading her expression of dismay.

  “In the absence of my own family, I’d begun to think of him as kin. A brother, or an uncle, but never anyone I desired. Not the way I desired you.” She sent him the tiniest, fleeting smile.

  He squeezed her hand, torn between pleasure to hear her attraction to him, and dreading what came next in her tale.

  “When I told him so…” Her look turned bitter. “He threatened me. Said I would lose my position, and he’d turn me out without a character, and without paying me the wages I was owed.”

  Owen swore. “Bastard.”

  “His wife was no help. Just laughed when I told her and said it would be wisest to indulge his desires that way everyone got what they wanted.” Cecilia’s mouth twisted. “The freedom they’d offered me was no freedom at all, not when it came at such a price. Thus, I left. At the least, my employers provided me with a character and enough money to return to England, both which enabled me to find work here, at Tarrington House.”

  He tamped down on the fury he felt on her behalf. She did not seem to want righteous anger right now. So he leaned close and kissed her. But she seemed less in need of defending than validation. Quietly, he said, “Your courage humbles me.”

  She nodded, but her expression was soft with gratitude.

  A lull fell, interrupted only by the sound of the fire and the wind ruffling through the trees.

  “I see now the reasoning behind your initial reluctance for us becoming lovers.” His father’s farthing contained only a fraction of what there was to know about how power functioned, who had it, and what it signified.

  He held it, and he could not abuse that privilege. There was a way he could wield so it helped others, rather than merely shoring up his own position in the world.

  “You’re a far better man than my prior employer could ever hope to be.”

  “Small praise, given what a son of a bitch he revealed himself to be.”

  She gave a low exhalation that might have been a laugh.

  “You returned to England,” he prompted gently.

  “For all the liberty of the Continent, I missed my home.”

  “And you continued on as a governess. Despite what had happened at your prior post.”

  Her smile was genuine. “For all that man’s poison, I still liked being a governess, and wanted to get away from London. I applied for the post to teach your sisters. It was conditional, my employment, since I had only the one character, but I suppose I did well enough for them to keep me.”

  She kissed him briefly, then slid out from his arms to rise from the bed and move to her clothing nearby. Her body glowed in the firelight, yet he couldn’t take pleasure from watching her walk away.

  “Help me dress.” She donned her shift and pulled on her loosened stays before presenting him with her back.

  He padded from the bed to her and began tightening the laces down the back of her stays. “I far preferred removing this.”

  “Staying here for more than a few hours is risky.” She exhaled, smoothing her hands down her torso as if assuring herself that her armor was fully in place. “We cannot afford to be forgetful of who we are. In the house, I’m the governess, and you are the duke.”

  He hated the reminder of the gulf between them, but it was an uncontestable fact.

  She slipped on her petticoat, and while he remained nude, she put on her gown. Wordlessly, she gave him her back, and the row of buttons on her dress.

  “In this cottage,” he said, doing up the fastenings, “we’re neither of those things.”

  With her gown fully secure, she faced him, her expression set. Was the sadness in her gaze an invention of his yearning heart, or was it real?

  She reached up to cup his jaw. When he leaned into her touch, rubbing against her palm, she sucked in a breath. Longing shone in her eyes before she quickly banked it.

  There was a strange comfort in how she fought against longing, as though he was not the only one who ached for more than they could have. Yet it was no comfort at all because no matter what he and Cecilia wanted, it would always be thwarted.

  “Here,” she said evenly, “we’re the teacher and the student. That farthing tells us that anything else is impossible.”

  Chapter Six

  “Examining samples is the best way to understand the growing structures of plants,” Cecilia explained to Maria and Ellie. Since the day was so fine and mild, and since it would be nigh impossible to get her pupils to focus on their slates when a whole sunny world awaited, the three of them sat on a blanket spread upon the massive lawn behind Tarrington House’s east terrace. “Which means gathering samples.”

  The girls shared a smile.

  “May we, Miss Holme?” Maria asked.

  Her sister all but vibrated with excitement at the prospect.

  “Only if you promise not to destroy any creature’s home to do so,” Cecilia instructed.

  “We promise,” the girls said solemnly.

  “Then go, but don’t stray too far. If you’re not back within half an hour, I’ll be forced to search for you—and then we’ll take the remainder of today’s lessons in the schoolroom.”

  “Half an hour,” Ellie repeated as she got to her feet. She pointed to the small timepiece pinned to her sister’s bodice, which had been a recent gift from their brother.

  The mere thought of Owen made Cecilia’s face flush and her body shaky with remembrance of last night’s tryst.

  Fortunately, the brim of her bonnet not only protected her from the sun, it also hid the heat in her cheeks, and Ellie and Maria were mercifully unaware of the fact that their governess was turning pink from lustful thoughts of their brother.

  “Go on, then,” Cecilia said, waving them toward the trees fringing the lawn. “And stay together.”

  With avowals that they’d stick close to each other, the girls ambled off toward the woods. Cecilia followed their progress, waiting until they had moved into the arbor before she stretched out on the blanket and picked up her book. She needed to review tomorrow’s lesson on the great kingdoms of Asia. There was a considerable amount of material to cover, and it would be a disservice to the topic to rush the lesson, but she had to determine the best starting point for a rich and fascinating subject.

  Despite the absorbing topic, her lids were weighted, and keeping them open became a losing battle. A warm breeze blew across the lawn, abundant with the green scents of late springtime. She plucked at the ribbons of her bonnet, then tugged it from her head and set it beside her.

  After she had returned to her room last night, she’d been unable to sleep. Though her body had been sated by the pleasure she’d shared with Owen, their intimate conversation afterward kept her mind spinning. Sharing her history with him—and his acceptance of that history—had touched her, making her long for things that could never be. In a different world, a better one, they could mean more to each other than a few stolen moments.

  With her past lovers, she’d been content with assignations that promised only physical pleasure. Those relationships had been temporary, nor had she wanted more from any of those men. They were pleasant enough, and skilled at fucking, but none of them desired learning who she truly was beyond that night’s amusement. In truth, there hadn’t been anything about any of them that made her crave something beyon
d their bodies. When it came time to part, she was as ready as they had been to end things.

  With Owen, there was lust, and she enjoyed guiding him on his sexual journey. Watching him discover himself and being the lucky recipient of his developing erotic skill delighted her. Yet he kept revealing his hidden depths, the tenderness of his heart, and his burning need to do right.

  The way he looked at her stole her breath. No one had ever regarded her with such care or respect. She wasn’t an object to desire, or something to be manipulated or used. Nor was she seen as a symbol of impossible virtue.

  To Owen, she was… She was her.

  How long could this go on? At some point, his sisters would be old enough to no longer need her.

  And she had her own dream of a school for girls. If she were careful over these next few years, she could begin investigating properties to lease, other teachers to hire.

  There was no place for Owen in her future, nor she in his.

  Yet what if, her thoughts had pressed all night. What if…?

  If she could catch more air on her face, she could stay awake now. But she’d be more comfortable if she lay on her side as she read. She would merely shift her position a little and then return to her reading.

  “Given that this bonnet is in possession of all its ribbons,” a woman’s voice said with humor, “I can only assume it belongs to you and not one of my daughters.”

  Cecilia’s eyes flew open. Sitting opposite her was the duchess, wearing a gentle smile as she held Cecilia’s bonnet.

  She lurched upright, mortified to the roots of her being to be caught napping by her employer. “My sincerest apologies, Your Grace. The girls went off to gather botanical specimens and I was reading tomorrow’s lesson. I honestly have no excuse for my indolence—”

  “Apologies are unnecessary, Miss Holme.” The duchess held up a hand, and her expression was mercifully mild. “This is precisely the sort of day that one takes a little al fresco pisolino. When I was a girl at my parents’ villa outside of Amalfi, I loved nothing more than dozing beneath the leaves of a lemon tree, with my own governess fast asleep beside me.”