Her Mystery Duke

by Blackthorne, Natasha

  He swept down and captured her lips again. His mouth pressed hers, hard, demanding. More thrills slammed through her. He pressed his pelvis to her belly. The weight of his erection seared her through their clothing. He rubbed against her tummy whilst rolling his hips. A slow, steady, suggestive dance of desire.

  He moved like poetry.

  One seeing him in the corridor would never guess at this side of him. She felt like a woman possessed of a wicked, delightful secret.

  He continued to tease her. Each flex and grind promised the most sensual, naughty pleasures.

  Her cunt clenched in empty hunger. It had so long…too long since he’d last filled her. She had almost gone out of her mind with need and now she couldn’t wait for him to fill her.

  He released her and began peeling his cutaway jacket off as he walked away. “Put your coat on the hook.” He pointed to a coat tree then tossed his own coat to the chair behind his desk and started to work the line of buttons on his waistcoat. “I have about an hour before I am due back.”

  She wanted him so desperately. The most ludicrous urge consumed her. To bend over that gleaming mahogany desk and present herself to him for the taking. God, she wanted him to thrust into her without any delay.

  Her heart pounded and her blood roared in her ears. Her pulse pounded in her sex, most strongly in her nub. She clenched and clenched. It made her legs feel rubbery. Wetness trickled in surges over her inner folds. The battle between desire to be wild and wanton and a strange lingering shyness made her so nervous, she went dry mouthed.

  “What are you thinking on so violently?”

  She startled out of her thoughts. “Violently?”

  “Yes, some matter has consumed you.” He touched her cheek. “You are flushed and you were biting your lip. Your breasts were rising and falling rapidly.” He glanced down. “They still are. How modestly you dress.” He tugged gently at the kerchief that was tucked into her bodice until it came out and the top of her bosom was bared. “You’re flushed there as well.”

  “It is very warm in here.”

  “No, it’s not.” He drew his dark brows together. “You are suppressing yourself.”

  Why was he talking so much? Why wouldn’t he just take action and set the whole matter in motion?

  “I don’t want you to suppress yourself. You were considering something.”

  More heat flamed into her face.

  “Show me.” His voice was silken, seductive.

  “Oh goodness, I couldn’t.”

  “Why not? We’ve privacy enough.”

  “It would be foolish. It would make fools of us both.”

  “It can be rather enjoyable to be foolish. Show me and let me judge.”

  She moved away from him, her face enflamed.

  “Goodness, Jeanne, whatever can it be to make you blush like that? You told me you were well acquainted with men.”

  “I am acquainted with letting a man do what he will. Not…not…”

  He held up a forestalling hand. “Don’t speak any more. Just do it.”

  She faced the desk and put her hands upon the shiny, cool surface then she lowered herself until her upper body rested on the desktop.

  The clock at her side ticked so loudly in the ensuing silence. She cringed a little. Oh, she did feel so foolish.

  “Damn, Jeanne.” His voice sounded husky.

  She dared a glance over her shoulder, peeking at him through the veil of her hair.

  He was grasping his cock through his pantaloons. Yet he made no move towards her.

  Her hands and legs began to shake. Her palms began to slip on the desktop. Her cunt ached to be filled. Her very position seemed to have the most peculiar reaction on her body. Her arousal was increasing by the moment.

  “Tell me.” His tone was smooth silk seduction.

  “Oh lord, I can’t.”

  “You must.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then you’ll remain in that rather interesting position a very long time.”

  His firm tone sent fresh waves of heat through her blood. Her inner walls contracted, increasing her sense of emptiness.

  “I want you to fill me with yourself.”

  His boots sounded softly on the rug. She sensed his approach behind, every particle of her attuned sharply to him. With a rustle of muslin, he lifted her skirts. To be naked in his chambers was more indecent. Wickedly so. Tantalizingly so. He bent over her then his lips touched her nape.

  “You’re so damned gorgeous like this.” He put his hand over her mons, lightly. “You’re a very clever girl and you should not suppress yourself. Not with me.”

  “I was afraid to visit you here.”

  “Why? I gave you directions to come here. If you want to see me during the day, this is usually where I am.”

  “I know, but you might not have liked it.”

  “Does it seem as though I am displeased?” She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “No, you misunderstand. What if you hadn’t invited me here? What if you hadn’t wanted me to come here? What would happen?”

  “Nothing. I never forbade you to come here.”

  “But suppose if you had forbidden me to visit you here? What would happen?”

  “I would be vexed with you.”

  “No punishment?” She didn’t understand why she was bringing all of this up. But speaking of it was making her wetter. Making her nether lips swell beneath the light but steady pressure of his large hand.

  “You haven’t given me the right to punish you, sweeting.” He kissed the back of her neck again, open mouthed, hungrily, as if he must taste her.

  “The right to punish me?” Her cunt convulsed several times as she spoke the words and a thrill raced up through her belly. A nervous laugh escaped her. “Let us say I had given you that right and you had forbidden me to come here, then what would happen?”

  “I would pull you over my lap and spank your bare arse.” He began to stroke her erect nub in soft, circular motions.

  “You’d pull me…” A stunning wave of desire rocked her. She caught her breath, briefly, until it passed. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” He sounded so resolute.

  Her cunt contracted fiercely. Her wetness seemed to surge. He increased the pressure and speed of his circular caresses. Several waves of desire rocked her now. Sweet, unbearably sweet anticipation. She had to lick her lips and swallow before she could speak again. “But how exactly would it go?”

  “You want specific details now?”

  “Yes, I did ask for them.” She spoke breathlessly. The tension inside her built quickly now.

  “You really wish to speak of this now?” His voice sounded hoarse. His erection pressed relentlessly against her backside. She knew he was simply toying with her. He wanted to speak of this as much as she did.

  She didn’t mind playing along.

  “Yes, I want you to tell me exactly how it would be.”

  He slowed his motions, maddening her. She arched back against him, pleading without words for him to continue touching her the way he had been before. He ignored that plea. “It would be punishment.”

  “Punishment? Like before?”

  “No, not like before. More.”

  “You would strike me hard?”

  “Fairly hard. With no warm up. I think about the fifth strike, you would cry.”

  “Oh, heavens.” She laughed weakly.

  He stopped stroking her. “What is so humorous about that?”

  “I never cry. Certainly not over something so silly as a spanking.”

  “If it is punishment, believe me, it won’t be anything you’ll think of as silly.”

  “I certainly never cry in front of anyone.”

  “No?”

  “No, not since my mother died.”

  “You would cry.” He sounded so assured that it galled her. Just let him spank her and she would show him that she never cried.

  “Why are you so sure I wo
uld cry?”

  “You would cry because you would trust me enough to do so in front of me.”

  “I would trust you? Why, you had just spanked my…” The picture her words conjured sent a wave of half fearful anticipation pulsing in her blood. The sensation was delicious. The confusion cut off her words. She swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “You had just spanked me.”

  “You would have had to trust me to allow it, to begin with.” He began to stroke her again. “Must we speak of this now?”

  He sounded impatient this time, no longer teasing. He sped his motions, rubbing, touching in just the correct manner. Their talk had caused her tension to rise to unbearable levels. She didn’t fight the release when it came, hard, swift spasms. Intense pleasure that ebbed as quickly as it had come. Deep but not satisfying.

  She moaned and pressed back against him.

  “Shh, be still.” His heated breath teased her nape. He gripped her hips and thrust into her, filling her on one long slide.

  Her cunt convulsively grasped him. Hugged him. Oh God, she was so aroused. She’d never been so eager to come. He began to move within her. Oh it was good. So good! Her inner walls began to pull. She didn’t want it to be over too soon but she couldn’t help it. Her cunt clamped upon him, in a frenzy of spasms.

  “Oh…oh…oh!” she cried out.

  He put his hand over her mouth. She couldn’t stop crying out. Couldn’t stop the bucking her pelvis. He was holding her tight by one hand on her hip. She could feel the wetness gushing from her core, bathing him.

  He fucked her hard and furiously. She kept coming. And coming. Finally, she fell forward onto the desk. He withdrew.

  She was still catching her breath when he turned her and urged her off the desk and down on her knees. She stared at his engorged cock that still glistened with her juices.

  “Suck me,” he said, harshly.

  She gaped at him, dumbly.

  He put his hand at the corner of her jaw and applied gentle pressure. Some sense returned to her brain, enough to open her mouth wide.

  He pushed in, sliding over her tongue.

  She adored his feel. His taste. The scent of his arousal blended with her own. She adored everything about him.

  “Jeanne.” The word sounded like a groan. Her own name had never sounded so beautiful.

  Spurred into frenzy, she sucked on him and moved her head, sliding over his erection, quickly, over and over. She wanted to devour him. She wanted all of him. Everything he had to give her. Now.

  He pressed his hips forwards and propelled into her throat. She swallowed quickly. His cock jerked violently as he spilled into her. She could feel the effort it took him not to shout. His body went tense and shaking with the retained energy. Several thick surges of come poured into her throat. She kept swallowing.

  “Damn Jeanne, damn.” His grip on her head loosened and became caressing.

  Cradling his spent cock in her mouth, she couldn’t fight a smile. Her mighty and powerful duke. She’d had him. All of him. He was surely hers forever. He’d never be able to forget her now.

  He withdrew and she pulled away. Her weakened legs gave way and her bottom fell to the cushiony rug. Still dazed with satisfaction, she stared at the bright, swirling patterns. They were like a hundred colorful snakes, all dancing together.

  He reached down to her. “Come, off the floor, my darling girl.”

  Limp, she let him pull her up into his arms. He carried her to the divan. It was unbelievably soft. It made a better mattress than her bed at home. He must sleep here sometimes for it smelled heavily of his especial scent. Face down, she rubbed her cheek into the plush velvet.

  She had just pleasured a duke in his chambers.

  It didn’t seem real.

  He sat beside her, lifted her skirts again, and delivered a sharp smack to her buttock, and thus dispelling any momentary sense of fairy-tale unreality.

  Princes didn’t spank their princesses, did they?

  Surely not.

  “I really don’t understand why a grown woman would give a man the right to actually punish her.”

  “Give me the chance and I’ll show you.”

  Heat spread through her belly and loins so quickly that she giggled.

  He caressed her bottom in leisurely motions. “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve done something worthy of being punished?”

  She giggled again. “Goodness, why would you say that?”

  Her face was very hot. He smoothed her hair with a delicate motion. The sudden tenderness made her feel all soft inside and ready to submit to anything he wanted.

  “Do you want to give me the right to punish you?” His gentle, intimate tone sent a new burst of fiery pleasure spreading like honey through her loins. It weakened her legs all over again.

  “I think this discussion has become ridiculous.” She made as if to arise.

  He flattened his hand on her arse. “Don’t move.”

  She laid back down, landing in the softness. Her hair fell forward, mercifully covering her increasingly hot face.

  He put his lips to the base of her spine. It was very…interesting to be kissed there. Sparks shot from that point to her loins.

  “If we were to play at games like that, I’d need to establish rules for you,” he said.

  “I hesitate to ask—but what kinds of rules?”

  He took her hand. “The first rule should be that you should write only in gloves.”

  “Oh come, David, please you can’t mean that. You’re teasing.”

  “Not in the least. Your hands shall belong to me for my pleasure.” He caressed her knuckles with his thumb. “However, I have come to appreciate and even adore your stained fingers.”

  “You’re teasing now for certain.”

  “I find them rather arousing for they remind me that you are different from other women I have known.”

  “Different?”

  “Yes, you use your mind and imagination for something other than wheedling promises and jewels from men.”

  “What do you know of my fairy stories?”

  “I read them.”

  “You did not.”

  “The devil you say. I had my secretary find copies of the newsletters with the stories by one Miss Jeanne Darling and I read them. I think you’re very talented and, for being fairy stories, they did manage to hold my attention.”

  Warmth spread through her. He had taken the time to look for and read her stories. Even though children’s stories were not quite his favorite reading material. And he had not used the material to make sport of her.

  “You may keep your ink stains and write in your bare hands.”

  At his magnanimous tone, she glanced back at him. “How gracious of you.”

  He grinned.

  Her heart fluttered. “So if writing in gloves is not a rule then would your rules for me be?”

  “You would live in the little house.”

  “Little house?” She laughed with a catch in her voice. “You told me it has five bedchambers, not counting the servant’s quarters in the attic.”

  “It is the smallest house I own.”

  “Oh.”

  “You must always treat me with respect and speak to me in polite tones. I expect you to reserve your Wednesdays and Saturdays for me alone. You are not to engage in any activities on those days that will distract you or fatigue you. I shall visit you in the afternoons, between noon and four. I will try to let you know more specifically each Wednesday and Saturday morning. When you are expecting me, you will always bathe, you will use the scented oils I prescribe.

  He lifted the tresses off her shoulders and let them slide through his fingers. “And you will leave your lovely hair loose. You will not dress afterwards except for the blue silk wrapper I put in the wardrobe for you. You will wait for me in that manner.”

  Her mouth dropped open and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “You would expect me to wait around all day for your arrival?”

&
nbsp; He returned her stare evenly. “It will be your pleasure to do so.”

  She could imagine that. Bathing herself. Preparing for him. Waiting for him. Longing for his arrival. A whole day set aside for sensual decadence. A whole day set aside for his pleasure. And hers.

  She’d be dripping wet by the time he arrived.

  She was becoming soaked now.

  Her breath was coming harder and faster. She felt a bit lightheaded. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your change in tense. You are speaking as though we were already negotiating the matter.”

  “Aren’t we?” His voice sounded a bit hoarser now.

  Increased wetness trickled onto her intimate folds. Her nub began to tingle. It would be so very easy to say yes. Just right at this moment. God, she was about ready to beg him to actually spank her. Now. Just to see if it would be as thrilling as her rising anticipation indicated. She had adored when he had spanked her the night they went to the opera. She had flown so high with him. Now he wanted…more.

  What if she accepted more and found it was too much?

  She shook herself. “I thought we were just talking.”

  He moved his hand under her body and cupped the underside of her breast. His fingers splaying upwards to brush her nipple. It immediately sharpened into a peak. “You wanted to know what my rules would be, remember?”

  “‘Would be’ is the key phrase there.”

  “No matter how much you find yourself aroused by the memory of our talk today, you cannot touch yourself intimately tonight in your bed.”

  “Now that’s just silly.”

  “You shall save your carnality solely for me.” He put his mouth to her neck, open, wet, and warm, kissing, suckling on her flesh for a moment.

  “And you?” The sparks of pleasure cascading down her spine made it hard to speak.

  “I do as I please,” he said.

  “As you please?”

  “Yes, and for now it pleases me to save my carnality for you.”

  Her nub became rigid. Aching. The trickle of wetness over her folds became more of a flow. Illogical, yes. But she couldn’t deny her arousal. A moan of pure longing arose in her throat. It took all her effort to keep it swallowed back.

  “Tomorrow is Wednesday.”

  “So it is.” Her voice had become shaky, for his hand was now sliding upwards along her thigh.