Regency Romance Omnibus 2018: Dominate Dukes & Tenacious Women

by Virginia Vice

  “You can submit slowly, at first,” he teased her, kissing along her cheekbone, her lips gaping and her eyes half-shut with hunger aching in every thick breath. With his strength he pressed her stomach against the dining hall table, chairs screeching as he threw them aside; she moaned as his rippling muscles pressed against her back. Audrey took in a deep breath, biting her bottom lip, her fingers wriggling; it was so foreign a sensation, but the scandal made it feel so much better than she could have imagined. His fingers curled into her frilly white panties, just beneath her loose skirt, her breaths grew frantic, starved; she had spent her whole life a sweet and chaste maid, and now, as her heart beat so steadily for him, she couldn’t believe how much she wanted him this way.

  “M... master,” she cooed, shuddering on the table. “M... m’lord, pl... please, be gentle, I don’t... I’ve never been with a man,” she admitted sheepishly. With rapturous care he held her waist, squeezing her softly and whispering warm into her wanting ear.

  “I’d never hurt you,” he promised. “...Unless you liked it,” he added with a dirty laugh, kissing along her cheek. A thousand questions filled her prudent young mind but nothing mattered right now because of how good it felt to be so close to him. She felt the bulge stiff against her backside, her milky skin blushing bright, her folds damp and inviting as he pulled his slacks to his hips, his powerful length gently entering her slowly at first; inch, by inch. He stretched her hesitantly, and while the sting burned the virgin at first, it felt so good she couldn’t even comprehend it. Wound so tight was her quaking, innocent body that when he finally filled her, his shaft spasming and hardening deep inside of her unclaimed flesh, she cried out his name, her body erupting with orgasmic pleasure along every nerve, her muscles stiffening and her limbs flexing tensely. He cooed into her ear, and she couldn’t even process the sounds; the feelings, other than that with her hands bound and her body claimed everything felt so good, better than she could have thought it would ever be.

  “You feel so good,” the lord admitted, holding onto her shoulders tightly as he entered her faster, stiffer, stronger; his muscles ached against her skin as he held her close, pumping his hips against her until she cried out his name and orgasmed again; this time, he joined her in an immaculate and heavenly symphony of lusty moans. He held onto the bindings on her wrists tight, stuffing her full and deep as wave after wave after messy wave of his release warmed her succulent, feminine depths. She could barely breathe as their bodies came down from those amazing highs; he gripped her close, pulling her down into a chair with him, kissing along her neck as she savored every spasming feeling of his climax filling her deep.

  “M... m’lord,” she fought a failing battle to catch her breath, her fiery hair a mess; sweat beads rolling down her brow. “I... I didn’t know, that it... I had imagined so much, of my first time, but I never knew, it would be...”

  “Like that?” he finished for her, confidence shining through his smirk. “I suppose I have a duchess to tend to... don’t I?” Audrey scowled.

  “I... I don’t...”

  “I can stay here with you, for just a few more moments,” he hummed playfully. The thought excited Audrey.

  “Please,” she begged in a quiet whisper, squirming as he unfurled the belt binding her wrists. She wrapped her arms adoringly around the rake, who smiled his satisfied little smile.

  Chapter 6

  It had been painful hours since midday. Painful hours separated from him - from those wild things he had done to her body. She was no longer a virgin, and it made her feel so much scandal. He had claimed her innocence, just like Aunt Bette and Agatha had warned against.

  And now she couldn’t stop worrying about it.

  Aunt Bette had warned her. Agatha had warned her. And while those moments in the duke’s embrace had felt so dirty and so heavenly, she had spent every moment since with her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She had given in. She had lost her pride - just like they had told her not to. Lord Parris proved too much for her to handle. She frantically scrubbed the floor of the dining hall, over and over again, fearful that the moments spent in dripping lust with him wouldn’t linger; that the scent of their bodies together wouldn’t alert Ana, or worse, Duchess Francine, of what had happened in those steamy moments. At supper time, she had cried; her heart welling with emotion, she hid in a corner of the dining hall and cried, nerves on edge as she imagined the tumultuous course her life would take, now.

  What would happen to Audrey, if Ana found out? Her life would come to closely resemble hell. Even worse, the duchess could have her career ruined. A young woman with no where to work. The anxiety crept into her as she continued cleaning, until night stretched deep across the moors. She had lost track of time when the room grew dark enough that she lit the candelabra on the table, her breath quivering. No one had bothered her; no one had come to see her. By the time Agatha pulled open the doors that night to check the room, Audrey had nearly scrubbed the finish from the floorboards.

  “Audrey? Are you still in here?” Agatha asked, exhausted; she peered across the dining room, finally finding the frantic young girl huddled in the corner of the dining hall, her brush scrubbing wildly at a nonexistent stain. “Audrey? What’ve— have you been at this all afternoon, dear?”

  “M-Miss Ag... Ms. Agatha,” she stammered, the momentary mania washing away; she realized just how absurd she must have looked; how absurd she had been acting. “I’m... sorry, Ms. Agatha, I. I got carried away, I supposed.”

  “Carried away, perhaps,” Agatha observed coolly, eying up and down the long, narrow hall, its floors spotless; each chair polished, even the dining silver laid out at each place glowing and pristine. “...the dining hall looks wonderful, Audrey. You’ve done more than I had expected.” Still, Agatha’s voice remained guarded, her expression peculiar. “But you’ve finished now, yes? What’s got you in that corner?”

  “O-oh,” Audrey murmured, “th... I was... there was a s-stain, and...”

  “Calm your nerves, girl,” Agatha smiled, matronly. “What’s got you so shaken?”

  “N... nothing, Ms. Agatha,” Audrey lied. Agatha shook her head.

  “Francine came in here this afternoon, before she and duke left, didn’t she?” Agatha crowed knowingly. “And I’m certain he didn’t exactly treat you well, did she?”

  “Ms. Agatha, I shouldn’t gossip,” Audrey whispered nervously.

  “Gossip? A-ha! Speaking on the duchess’s predilection for tormenting working girls is hardly gossip, Ms. Fisher,” Agatha guffawed. “Now, speaking on how Lord Parris returned home from what was to be a three day’s trip with her... perhaps that’s inching towards scandal,” Agatha smirked; Audrey blinked, voice swallowed by the gasp in her throat.

  “L... Lord Parris, he’s returned already?” she asked, equally hopeful and confused.

  “He’s asked to see you, in fact, Audrey. To deliver him tea,” Agatha intoned. Audrey played utterly foolish.

  “Asked sp... ecifically for me? I’m... well, it’s been a hard day of work, perhaps Ana could help him,” Audrey requested meekly. Agatha regarded Audrey skeptically, sensing something amiss. Audrey kept her face straight, with a weak and tired smile on her lips.

  “I don’t think it was a request,” she added in amusement. “I’ve already brought you tray to bring him,” Agatha said, gesturing to the silverware, porcelain cups and silver teapot on the table. Audrey cleared her throat, standing up; her feet throbbed, her back hurt; her knees ached. Everything hurt. Her hair a mess, still stained with some of the sweat of her encounter with the duke, she wobbled awkwardly toward the table, steadying herself against the edge.

  “Remember what I told you, yes?” Agatha warned quietly. Audrey’s heart sank. She had already ignored the woman’s advice, and she could already feel the guilt in her gut.

  “Y... yes,” she whimpered, carrying the tray towards the grand staircase. Each stair ascended hurt her heels, and the closer she got to the duke’s bedroom, t
he harder she breathed. Lord Parris had meant to be away from the estate for some time, with the duchess - why had he returned so suddenly? Her mind raced as she timidly rapped on the lord’s door, holding her breath.

  “Enter,” came a voice from behind the heavy door as the handle turned. She inched into the Lord’s bedchamber, the familiar paneling and his extravagant bed bathed in moonlight. A candelabra cast quaint, faint light across the room, set upon the lord’s writing desk. He stood at the windows, without his shirt, watching the stars. Audrey skittered across the Persian carpet, setting the tea on his bedside table. She stood plaintive, her head downcast, silent, before moving to leave.

  “Close the door, please, Ms. Fisher,” he requested sternly; Audrey’s breaths grew labored as her shaking hands pressed the door shut, in compliance with his powerful order. “Good,” he said. “We have to have a discussion about your work here, so far,” he said, his voice that heart-melting, baritone purr. She stood straight, stiff as a board, her back to the door, her hands quaking behind her back.

  “M-M’lord, certainly, I’m... I’m always open to criticisms, to your... opinions,” her voice lilted weakly as he turned to face her, moonlight rippling along his strong abs and across his powerful, broad chest.

  “There’s a lot to talk about,” his voice rumbled. “I met you, trespassing in a room you ought not to have been...” he murmured, and suddenly she felt him approaching her, like a hungry wolf sizing up a wide-eyed fawn. “Since then, Ana has informed me she feels your work is subpar... you spent all of the day lounging around in the dining hall, according to the Duchess Francine,” he listed the evidence against her piece by piece, and the more he spoke, the more Audrey quivered, fear and embarrassment bright-red in her cheeks. “Come here.” He beckoned her closer; she approached hesitantly, with stilted, staggering steps.

  “I... I’m sorry, m’lord, but I spent... I spent all of today, working hard, to... to clean the dining hall, after our...” Audrey bit her lip, not even sure how to refer to their indiscretion - or whether she even should. He circled her now, eying her from head to toe; circling her, closer and closer, until she could feel his breath again, and it lit that fire she knew in her breast.

  “And worst of anything,” he recalled with a sizzling finality, “you disobeyed me... you refused me. Do you remember that disobedience?” he growled into her ear. She could feel his hands now - strong, commanding; knowing just what they wanted. Even worse... knowing just what she wanted. She cooed weakly, losing herself in the deep and aggressive massage of his palms along her shapely hips.

  “I... m’lord, I simply... I simply wanted to maintain, my... you’re... a noble, and I’m...” Audrey lost every thought she tried to formulate, so enticed by the touch of his hands and the hum of his voice.

  “A serving girl?” he said. “You don’t think a serving girl could run the world, if she wanted?” he teased her, his hands gently massaging her breasts as he peppered her neck with hungry kisses, little nibbles; leaving her milky skin braised an erotic red.

  “I’m... I try to know my place, in the world... it keeps me s... safe,” Audrey tried to reason with him - but moreso, with herself. Because the more he felt her body and the hungrier his breaths grew on her skin the more she wanted to take over the world, if it meant she could be with him like this, every night, as the dauntless serving-girl. “I don’t...” She felt it again; with a strength and an unparalleled precision, she felt him wrap her wrists tight in a leather strap; she gasped, having that control taken away felt so wrong and so right. She wallowed in the sense of submission; cradled in his arms he pushed her chest hard flat onto the bed, kissing down her neck and along her back as he lifted her skirt again.

  “Your place in the world, Ms. Fisher... is here,” he breathed out lustily. “In my bedroom... repenting, for disobeying me... for being so misbehaved in your time here at the McClellan estate... I should punish you for it, shouldn’t I?”

  “P... punish? M’lord, what do you mean?...” her voice trembled, full of fear and apprehension... and pure, unfiltered want. Expecting an answer, she instead got a hard, stiff spank on her rear; she yelped, swallowing hard as the handprint burned reddened onto her milky-soft skin. “M-m’lord! That’s...”

  “I told you,” he growled down at her, “you need to be punished... so you learn to be a good serving-girl for your duke... don’t you?” he purred into her ear, showering her cheek with lusty affection before bringing his hand down hard into another cracking smack on her backside.

  “M-m’lord! I’m...” she couldn’t even think of breathing the words aloud, but it felt... good. It felt like she never imagined it could. A grown woman spanked by the sexiest duke she had ever seen in her life... it made her heart nearly burst with how erotic she felt. She couldn’t believe it; didn’t want to believe it. “Th... this is so... wr-wrong,” she cooed.

  “Is it?” he growled into her ear, spanking her again, as she moaned deeply at the feeling of pleasure-pain stinging her every nerve. “Is it wrong to admit our bodies want what they want?” he purred.

  “M’lord, we... we must have some se... sense of decency,” Audrey protested weakly, secretly begging for him to spank her again, and again.

  “Is it wrong for us to indulge how we like? Was it wrong for me, Ms. Fisher,” he huffed into her ear lewdly, “for me to abandon the duchess tonight... to return to the estate, because all my mind could dare think of is how good your body felt against mine? You’re all I could bloody imagine, Audrey,” he exhaled sharply, punishing her again with another sexy, stinging slap.

  “Oh, god, m’lord, it...”

  “Say it,” he demanded.

  “It... f... feels so good,” she sheepishly admitted in a long, lewd moan. Gripped by the sound of her, Lord Parris tugged his belt free, letting his trousers fall away as he grasped her reddened rear and entered her roughly, both hands gripping those sore spanking spots as her bound, pliant, submissive little body shook with delight.

  “You feel good,” he responded through gritted teeth, barely able to contain himself. He spanked her again, and again until she felt raw, and she moaned louder with each slap; with each thrust of his stiff shaft into her dewy feminine folds, it felt like lightning shooting across every nerve. Voracious he nibbled her neck, moaning, breathing, sighing her name, until he plunged his hardened length inside of her and cried out loud enough that all the estate could hear, echoing all through the moors. Biting her lip, she felt orgasm erupt in every inch of her, the pleasure even more intense than it had been the first time. He erupted, time after time, hotter and hotter until she was filled so completely with his hot release.

  He gripped her hips, collapsing next to her with a sigh; she shrunk into his grasp, feeling heavenly; sublime. She didn’t know why she liked so much to be spanked, to be bound - and it felt so wrong.

  But here, in his arms... everything felt right.

  Chapter 7

  It had plagued her mind for two days - Audrey had gone about her business the day after the night she spent with the duke, but Aunt Bette’s warning echoed loudly. So did Agatha’s, and the longer she kept this tense silence about herself and the duke, the harder it grew to stay silent about it. Every time Audrey passed Ana a in a hallway, fear froze her blood in her veins; each time she lied to Agatha about the night before, she felt a little more ashamed of herself. It had felt so good, so right - but what would anyone else think? Knowing Audrey was a dirty pervert who liked being spanked by her master?

  Today the duke slept in; he had been out late the night before, and Audrey spent the entire night unsure, and... oddly, jealous. She sat awake in her bed in the maidservant chambers, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he was doing. She knew she had no room to be jealous. She worked at an inn. Now she cleaned floor and polished silver. What was she to do to a duke?

  Now, she had been instructed to collect the duke’s linens, and with fury and fear and confusion in her mind, she stilled her beating heart as she knocked
on his door.

  No answer.

  She knocked again, holding her breath. Still, no answer. It was nearly midday by now, but the duke had yet to rise, it appeared.

  “M... M’lord, are you in there? Are you awake?” she whispered through the door, rapping calmly on its surface once more. No response came. Full of unease, Audrey took a deep breath and flung the door open, heedlessly entering, her slippers dragging across plush Persian carpets.

  “O-oh! M’lord, I’m s... sorry,” she stammered, averting her eyes; a sheet swaddled about his waist, he bared his chest and yawned when the maidservant entered. He smirked, all full of lust and desire.

  “You should knock before you come in,” Lord Parris murmured, his voice and his body so tempting.

  “M’lord, I... I did, knock, several times,” Audrey giggled awkwardly.

  “I know. And yet, with no answer, you still came in, didn’t you? A woman with initiative. I like that,” he whispered. “Shut the door,” he demanded, his voice taking that powerful and erotic tone that forced her quivering body to so wantingly obey.

  “I...” Audrey thought to protest, her mind so full of questions, but she bowed, and complied. She clicked the heavy oaken door shut, turning back; still holding her gaze away from his face or his gorgeous body. “M’lord, I... I feel like we should... talk, about this.”

  “Why don’t you want to look at me?” he purred, shifting on the bed.

  “Wh-what? I... m’lord, you’re quite indecent, at the moment,” she stammered.

  “I’m indecent at every moment,” he purred lustily. “What makes this one any different?”

  “M’lord, I shouldn’t... be seeing a man, of your stature, like this,” she protested.

  “Look at me, Ms. Fisher,” he asked. “You’ve had no trouble looking at me before.”

  “M’lord, please, I have to beg your pardon,” she insisted strongly, resisting the urge filling every bone and muscle in her body. She heard the floorboards creak; now he stood, nude, in front of her, stalking her hungrily, just the way she secretly wanted.