She smiled devilishly as she stood, trying to keep her balance against the swaying of the coach and pulled down the blinds on the carriage windows. In the dusky light she dropped her britches and stepped out of them. Richard gasped and frantically opened his own britches, his erection springing free as he reached for her and pulled her back onto his lap. With careful instruction he got Kitty positioned in the right place.
‘Now take me in your hand and guide me to where you want me.’ He whispered and groaned again as her fingers gently touched his pulsing shaft. He moaned as he felt her silky core slide over the head of his penis and then she was engulfing him in her hot, throbbing vagina. Holding her by the hips, he eased her down on his manhood and then gently lifted her. Kitty looked him in the eyes and swallowed with a gulp as she gasped at the invasion. ‘You control this, my love. Just move at the speed you want.’ He murmured as he lifted her again. She settled her hands on the point of his shoulders and lost herself in ecstasy. Richard slowly opened her shirt and stroked his fingers over her pearlescent, satiny skin. Her nipples were puckered with arousal already and Richard just wanted to lick them, so every time she was up, he licked her nipples with a gentle swipe of his tongue and when she was down, he rubbed his thumbs over them both.
It didn’t take Kitty long to find her own erotic rhythm and instead of just sliding up and down, she managed to swirl her hips, but she deliberately kept the pace slow. It was so sublime that she didn’t want to rush, because then the exquisite feeling in her body would be over. She could feel every slick slide of his penis as it moved in and out of her body and every pulse of his member as it pressed against the mouth of her womb. She felt her body start to tremble. ‘Oh! God!’ she murmured.
‘Would you like me to help?’ Richard asked thickly and Kitty shook her head. ‘I don’t know if I can last for much longer.’ He muttered, ‘you’re testing my control.’ But he couldn’t bring himself to move suddenly, even though all he wanted to do was throw her onto the seat opposite and fuck her stupid, he was also curious to see how this climax would compare to the last one. It had taken his breath away the previous evening, when they finally climaxed together. Never before had his penis pulsed for so long after his orgasm was finished. This time he’d been holding back his ejaculation for quite a while as Kitty worked slowly on her own orgasm.
‘Yes.’ She gasped suddenly. ‘Help me! Oh! God! Help me.’ Richard stroked his hand down her belly, forcing his fingers between them and almost as soon as his fingertip slid over her clitoris her orgasm burst over them both. Richard felt every ripple and contraction as her vagina squeezed him in a vice and he forced himself deeply inside her and let go of his restraint as she milched him, his scalding semen hosing like a fountain into her womb and he crushed his lips over her open mouth to stop her scream from being heard outside the confines of the carriage. He clutched her trembling body to his chest as he plundered her mouth again and yet again he could feel his manhood pulsing and throbbing, even though his ejaculation was over.
Kitty was sated and lax in his arms as he slowly removed his lips from hers. ‘Making...’ he cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Making love to you is tempestuous.’ He murmured.
‘Making love to you is wonderful.’ She replied softly, slowly opening her eyes and looking at him. ‘I’m going to enjoy it every night for as long as we both shall live!’ she said firmly.
‘I don’t know about just at night,’ Richard murmured as he tipped his head back against the rest. ‘I’ve yet to discover what it would be like to be in bed with you in the dark and make love by the flames of the fire.’
‘It’ll be...’ Kitty mumbled against his shirt. ‘Mmm! What did you say? Tempestuous?’
A chuckle rumbled in his chest as Kitty snuggled her face against his pectoral muscle and sighed deeply.
Charles caught up with Robin just past Biggleswade in Bedfordshire. He’d changed horses again at Sandy and the landlord commented on Robin only being a few minutes in front of him. He couldn’t account for the ice cold expression in Lord Charles’s eyes.
‘Good! Give me your fastest horse.’
‘You’ll like this one, Milord. Bought it from a Cavalry officer. He lost a leg at Talavera and couldn’t ride anymore.’ Charles looked at the huge stallion that was brought out for him. ‘It’s a fine charger.’
Unlike Hercules, this horse stood placidly waiting and the only sign of life was the twitching of his ears as a cock crowed. Charles carefully placed his hat back on his head and cinched the strap tight.Pity I don’t have a sword or pistol.He thought as he checked the knife in his boot. He levered himself up into the saddle and the horse barely acknowledge the added weight. Charles sorted the reins in his hands, bade farewell to the Innkeeper and clicked his tongue. Instantly the horse walked forward as they turned out onto the road, Charles clicked his tongue again and the horse broke into a trot.
Charles smiled. He’d spent enough time with Cavalry Officers to know how they trained their chargers. A Cavalry Charge started at the trot, before progressing on through a canter to the gallop. But that’s not where it ended for a charger. As they were almost upon the enemy, the rider would kick the horse into the break neck pace of the Charge so that man and beast would crash through the opposing forces line.
Charles eased the charger into an easy gallop, not pushing too hard. Just like Hercules, he seemed to eat the road and suddenly Charles could see a rider in the distance. He didn’t alter his pace; he only dipped his head when the rider turned to look over his shoulder. He had to be sure it was Robin before he dragged him off his horse and kicked the life out of him.
Charles was astonished as he felt the berserker rage that only ever bothered him on the battlefield, start to pulse the blood through his veins. This was what had kept him alive through every skirmish from the retreat to Corunna to the siege of Badajoz. He wrapped his anger about him, like a comfortable old cloak and prepared for battle. This would not be the first time he’d faced an enemy on horseback, but it was the first time he had a professionally trained charger between his thighs as he did it! He knew he could hold the reins in his teeth and the horse would follow instruction through his feet, he only had to press his foot against the horse’s flank and it would turn or barge into whatever was beside him. He could still hear Lord Henry Paget telling him how to make a charger work to best advantage, as they shivered in the long retreat to Corunna. He’d been a lowly twenty year old lieutenant, the son of a Duke, awed in the presence of a Lieutenant-General, the son of an Earl. ‘Controlling the beastie is easy!’ Paget said firmly, ‘It’s staying in the saddle long enough to kill some enemies that’s hard!’ He barked out a laugh. ‘Barge the horse, if it stumbles turn back and run the rider through with your lance!’
Charles suddenly knew what to do and putting his head down beside the Charger’s neck, kicked it into the Charge. The horse seemed to bolt, and Charles hung onto the reins for grim-death, trying to balance his feet in the stirrups and not interfere with the horse’s rhythm. He saw Robin look over his shoulder again, but he obviously couldn’t recognise Charles, because he showed no panic, but then the last time he’d probably seen Charles, he’d been limping with a stick. Robin was moving at a fast canter.No wonder I’ve been able to catch him.He thought.The stupid bastard has no idea that we know it was him! He must be mad!Was Charles’s conclusion.
Robin eased his horse over to the left to allow Charles enough space to pass him by and Charles tried to time it perfectly so that as he pulled level with Robin, his charger stepped sideways and barged him off the road.
Robin’s untrained horse stumbled and fell into the field beside the road. Robin was thrown from the saddle to bounce away from the falling equine as she went down in a flurry of hooves.
Charles hauled on the reins and pressed his left foot into the horse’s flank. The horse skidded to a halt and turned on a sixpence, before lurching into another gallop. Charles steered it towards the man rolling on the grass and as they go
t near, Charles launched himself out of the saddle and landed in the centre of Robin’s back as he tried to run away, bearing them both to the ground.
Suddenly Robin had a knife at his throat. He caught the quicksilver flash of steel and froze. ‘My purse is on my belt.’ He mumbled as Charles’s hand grabbed his hair viciously, forced his head back and he felt the cold touch of steel.
‘Why would I want the purse of a murderer?’ Charles whispered in that sibilant whisper. He felt his brother jerk in shock.
‘Charles!’ he gasped and tried to struggle as Charles moved the blade against his gullet.
‘Maybe I should just slit your throat right here. After all you’re officially dead and buried in Jamaica!’ Robin theatrically shook his head. ‘No, why cheat the hangman. It would be just as satisfying to watch you wriggle on the end of a rope!’
Charles whipped him over onto his back and crushed his brother to the ground with a knee in the centre of his belly. Robin tried to struggle, but he was shocked at the strength in his brother’s body and the coldness in his eyes. In the pocket of his cloak, Charles already had some lengths of leather and he deftly trussed his elder sibling. ‘It’s remarkable the skills you learn in a war.’ He murmured. ‘In retrospect, you should have gone to Portugal, Robin. You would have seen enough killing to even saturate your blood lust.’ He walked over to Robin’s horse, checked its fetlocks and then walked it about. Satisfied that the animal wasn’t injured, he took it towards his captive and hauled Robin to his feet and then, tapping the berserker rage, he put his arm between Robin’s thighs and heaved him over the saddle. He promptly tied his brother to the girth strap and collected his own horse, which stood patiently waiting. Charles heaved his aching body back into the saddle, trying to ignore the throbbing in his thigh and for a change he walked the horse back onto the road.
Robin became indignant and started blustering. Charles didn’t even respond, but just led the horse along slowly. He listened to the birds and found the calm centre of his soul, which was always difficult after action. If he didn’t calm his blood lust, he could quite easily cut his brother’s throat and leave him for dead on the side of the road. But he needed to find out about his duchess.
‘Who did you marry?’ he asked coldly and Robin stubbornly stayed quiet. ‘Who were you moaning at Alicia Green about?’ Still nothing. ‘Kitty’s getting married.’ He said conversationally. ‘And me.’ He smiled softly at the memory of Louise naked on the rug in his father’s study. ‘Why did you kill him?’ and with that Charles lapsed into silence.
Robin hung over the saddle and thought back to how it all started.
Chapter 17
Robin Stafford had been tupping the Duchess of Albany for a few weeks. She was insatiable and the most daring bedmate he’d ever had. She’d made Connie Beresford seem like a common whore. Their last joining was poignant, because she told him her husband was back in London and she would have to be the Duchess now.
He’d gone to her Hanover Square mansion, let himself in the servant’s entrance, as usual and crept up the stairs. His heart had pounded in his chest just seeing the strip of light under her door. Carefully he opened the door to see her sat at the dressing table in the most erotic night gown he’d ever seen. It was made of some filmy black gossamer, through which her body shined like a beacon. The garment actually covered every inch of her body, except for her hands and face. She looked up at his reflection in the mirror and smiled in welcome. Her indigo blue eyes appearing almost black in the candle light that flickered over her dark sable hair, making it almost as black as the gown. Unlike most of the women of thehaute ton, Harriet had board straight hair and as she stroked the brush down it one final time, it shone.
‘You’re early.’ She murmured as she placed the silver backed brush carefully on the glass cover of her dressing table. ‘I hoped to be ready when you got here.’
‘Ready, how?’ Robin croaked as his penis swelled to fill his britches.
She turned on the seat, still smiling. ‘You should have some brandy for that frog in your throat.’ And got gracefully to her feet.
Harriet Farrington was taller than was fashionable and her head came to Robin’s chin. Her height gave her a willowy grace, that was seldom ignored and his heart pounded just a little bit harder as she reached for the decanter on the nightstand. She delicately poured a substantial amount into a bulbous snifter and gracefully turned to hand him the glass.
Robin gulped as her body was revealed through the gossamer of her gown. As he took the drink his fingertips caressed one dusky nipple through the material. ‘Ready, how?’ he asked again in a whisper.
She smiled softly and replied. ‘Finish your drink, while you get undressed.’ And turned away towards the bed.
Robin jerked the contents of the glass down his throat, almost choking as it seared his gullet and exploded in the pit of his stomach. Then he tore the cravat from his neck, shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and ripped his shirt open and pulled it over his head. As he sat down on a delicate ladies chair to remove his boots, Harriet climbed onto the bed, where a lantern pooled light over the silk sheet. The silk encased pillows were piled against the ornate headboard and the whole bed had been scattered with red rose petals. Harriet settled herself in the middle of the pool of light, relaxed against the pillows, lifted one knee and smiled invitingly at Robin. She promptly stretched her arms wide and slipped her hands through the slipknots in the silk ribbons attached to the bedposts, jerking her hands she was captured of her own volition and again she smiled at Robin’s hot, hungry expression as he dropped his britches, revealing his enormous erection.
‘Are you hungry, My Lord?’ Harriet asked without taking her gaze away from that pulsing shaft of rigid flesh. Robin wasn’t as tall as his father, but he was still nearly six foot in his bare feet, his musculature was thick and stocky, his barrel chest covered in a thick layer of coarse light hair and his abdomen was chunky without being fat. In the lamp light his muscles rolled under his skin like a well trained race horse.
‘Ravenous, Your Grace.’ Robin murmured as he approached the bed.
‘Then I think you should restrain my feet and we can proceed.’ She said hoarsely as she opened her legs.
Robin gently took her first ankle and slipped the silk strap over it, before he jerked it tight and stroked her foot. He moved to the other side, gently lifted her foot and did the same and then he straightened her gown. She was spread-eagled on the silk covered bed.
‘The knife is on the table.’ She whispered.
‘It seems such a shame to destroy such a fabulous gown.’ He murmured as he turned for the dressing table and picked up the wickedly curved dagger that sat there.
‘I can buy another one.’ She said as he turned towards her and the lamp light flashed on the blade.
‘Yes, I suppose you can.’ Robin said as he rested the blade on her ankle and she gasped in a sudden explosion of air. ‘But, before I slice your gown off, I would like to indulge myself.’
‘I’m hardly in a position to stop you.’ she said throatily. Robin left the dagger lying next to her ankle and instead he slowly stroked his fingertips over her entire body. He crouched over her as he investigated every shadow and crevice. He delicately stroked his finger around the swell of her breast and then dipped his head and tormented the extremely puckered nipple through the sheer cloth covering it. He sucked it, licked it and nipped it, making Harriet moan and writhe before he gave the other one his attention. Slowly he traced his fingers down to the apex of her thighs and did much the same thing. He could see her arousal glistening before he even touched her. He traced his tongue over the line of her cleft, feeling the tremor of desire shudder through her frame.
‘You realise I could cut you?’ He whispered against her weeping sex.
‘Yes.’ She gasped. ‘I won’t hold it against you.’
Robin climbed briskly off the bed. ‘Then let me reveal you in all your glory.’ He said firmly and picked up the knife. H
e held the fragile material taut and skimmed the blade of the knife up the centre of the gown. The gossamer cloth parted silently to fall away from her body. Robin followed it onto the bed, kneeling between her outstretched legs. He stopped as he reached the ribbon of her bodice and manoeuvred himself over her torso. Carefully he cut the ribbon under her breasts and continued right up under her chin. As the point pricked her skin she gasped and lifted her hips. Without an apology, Robin continued to slice the gown off her until she was completely nude. He lifted her up and slid the remains of the gown out from under her body and threw it on the floor.
‘Now, Your Grace, what would you have me do?’ He asked in a very sultry voice, ‘be specific? I cannot do what you want if you don’t tell me explicitly.’
Harriet was on the verge of an orgasm just waiting for his touch on her bare skin. ‘Anything!’ she gasped, ‘just do something before I expire!’
Robin didn’t reply, instead he lay down between her spread thighs, on his side with his head resting on her thigh and stroked his finger over her sex. Her hips rose as she begged again. ‘Please?’ Slowly he inserted a finger inside her throbbing vagina, feeling his manhood throb in response. He clutched his penis in his hand and slowly masturbated as he eased his finger out again and smoothed her arousal fluid over her clitoris, making her moan and beg again ‘Please?!’ As he slipped two fingers inside her, he stroked his tongue lazily over her clitoris and emulating intercourse, he thrust his fingers in and out of her until they climaxed. Her hips were bucking, as her vagina convulsed and gripped his fingers, as his sperm spewed over the silk sheets.
Leaving his fingers in situ, Robin slowly climbed over her body until he could give her breasts all the attention they needed. He licked, sucked and kissed them. ‘You really do have beautiful breasts.’ He murmured and then engulfed her right nipple, sucking so hard, she moaned. He knew it would take him a while to recover, before he could take her properly, but this way was better, then he had total control inside her. If he left it, he would ejaculate too quickly and spoil it for her.
The Theft of a Dukedom Page 21