Her Mystery Duke Page 14

  She tried to shift her position and touch her cunt, her aching nub. He stopped spanking her and grasped her hand then placed it behind her back.

  “Don’t move.” His words were a harshly ground out command.

  Her heart beat faster in response and she froze.

  He dropped her hand and seized her hips, roughly so that she was sure he’d leave handprints. Her arousal increased until she could only breathe in short pants.

  His cock touched her entrance.

  He pushed into her with such force it took her breath. A wave of pleasure convulsed her. Satisfaction at the way he stretched her, filled her.

  “I think of nothing but thrusting into your softness.” He nipped the skin of her nape. “Of pounding into you and driving you to come, until there is room for nothing but me in your thoughts.”

  He propelled himself into her, again and again, pounding against the mouth of her womb. Sensation slammed into her belly, again and again. Just as he’d said, there was no room for anything in her thoughts but him. His cock drove her to madness.

  He stopped and laid several more firm spanks to her arse. She knew he was striking hard but she could feel nothing but thrilling sparks of sensation. Hunger consumed her. Her womb and her nub hurt with the need to come. She cried out her need in a series of feline-like moans.

  He thrust into her, hard. “Is this what you want?”

  She moaned.

  “Is this what you need?”

  She moaned louder.

  He thrust into her again and again. Faster and faster. Her heart pounded in a savage beat. Her cunt pulled tight, so tight she couldn’t bear it. Oh God, she needed release now. Now!

  “Come for me.” He growled the words low.

  Pleasure poured over her in a white-hot fury of sensation. She cried out with it. He increased his efforts until she was writhing. Screaming. Digging her nails through her gloves into the cushion. Her cunt convulsed, the spasms coming hard, as fast, brutal, unbearable bliss seared up through her belly.

  He jerked himself from her with such force it rocked her body anew. The hot surge of his seed splashed her buttocks. His harsh shout sounded. She collapsed and her cheek fell against the soft velvet. The scent of new fabric mixed with the odor of sexual intercourse and sweat. She licked her dried lips and waited for her head to stop spinning and for her breath to slow to normal. He was the Duke of Hartley.

  She’d been spanked and thoroughly fucked by the Duke of Hartley.

  For no particular reason, as the thought came to her, it struck her as humorous. She laughed, breathlessly, weakly.

  “Jeannie.” He caressed her hair. “My lovely, Jeanne.”

  His voice was hoarse and breathless.

  Her throat was dry and raw. Her breath was forcing itself out in harsh pants. She couldn’t speak yet.

  He stood. She saw his shadow, a long, darker spot that wavered on the multicolored rug. A touch on her buttocks made her jump. Her arse was afire, but deliciously so. Each stroke of what must be his handkerchief was devilishly pleasurable torture. His shadow moved across the chamber, followed by the sound of what must be wood being placed on a hearth, followed by the clang of metal. She would have rolled on her side to watch him but he’d told her not to move. Maybe it still applied. Lassitude made her limbs weak. To obey him was a strange, unfamiliar pleasure. Slight tingling licked at her sex and deep in her belly.

  Moments later, firelight bathed the walls in tones of rich, glowing yellow and orange. His boots sounded on the floor as he approached her again. He stood there and didn’t move to cover her bareness. “This house is yours. I shall come here, every Wednesday evening. Perhaps I shall visit you on the occasional Saturday afternoon. It is my decision to come here or not depending on my schedule and need. You will always be ready to receive me on those days.”

  That had the ability to break through the spell he’d placed on her. She began to turn. He gripped her neck. “I didn’t say you could move.”

  “But—”

  “I enjoy watching you like this, with your arse prettily pink from my hand.”

  “I don’t want to live here. I don’t want your money or your dictates.”

  “You do. You just don’t know it yet.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  He caressed her back, using that light, teasing touch that had first seduced her. “Shall I show you, Jeanne?”

  “I want only to go home.”

  He stroked down until he reached the cleft of her buttocks and then between them. The touch brought that same feeling of letting down, of her body giving itself over totally to his desires. Wetness began to flow from her core once again, her inner lips swelled. “I can see that this is something that will take most of what remains of this night to show you.”

  He touched her wetness then entered her quim with two fingers. Stretching her, pressing the forward wall.

  Need erupted deep inside her. The unbearable nature of the ache surprised her.

  “Do you really want to go back to that dismal little garret?”

  She couldn’t speak. She was struggling hard to hold in a moan. The pressure of his fingers was building the most exquisitely painful tension. She longed for him touch her erect, straining nub but he simply continued to rub her inside firmly with unhurried motions, bringing her close to the point where she felt she must have relief or explode. Then he eased off.

  “David, I—“

  “Shh, sweeting.” He began to stroke her inside again.

  A moan erupted from her before she could swallow it back. Pleasure streaked up into her womb, the start of an orgasm so powerful, she’d not felt its like before. The sensation ebbed but she could feel the next wave building, stronger now. Wickedly sweet anticipation made her increase the pace of her panting breaths. The next wave was crashing on her. Oh God in heaven—

  He stopped, withdrew his hand and pressed her mons. His action caused the contractions to ebb into a horrid, tight ball of aching.

  A sob tore up from her deepest internals and she pressed her face into the cushion.

  He caressed her buttock. “If you stay, I want you to remember something.”

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Need was choking her.

  “If you want me to stop anything I do, you must tell me that you want ‘a sea change,’ stop or no will not suffice between us tonight. Do you understand, Jeanne?” He stroked her neck and somehow the tightness in her throat eased.

  “David, I—”

  He tightened his grip on her neck. “Just say, yes, I understand.”

  She licked her lips.

  “Shall I take you home, Jeanne?”

  Panic swelled in her chest. She wanted release now more than she wanted anything in the world. “I understand.”

  God, her voice sounded so hoarse, so desperate.

  “Good girl.”

  “This isn’t exactly fair, David.”

  “Life seldom is.”

  The cynicism in his voice sent a chill over her scalp and down her spine. “What do you intend to do?”

  “I intend to show you how much you truly do desire to be mine. Completely.”

  “Are you going to hurt me much?”

  “Jeanne.” His voice sounded surprised. “I shall never harm you.”

  “Of course.”

  He touched her shoulders and she went limp, allowing him to roll her over onto her back, and onto the divan. She kept her eyes closed.

  He caressed her lower belly. “But I may well…torment you a little.”

  The hard ball of aching desire within her womb tightened unbearably. She moaned.

  “You were meant to be mine, to torment or to pleasure as my whim dictates. You see, that is why we had to meet as we did.”

  She couldn’t tell if he were teasing her or if he believed what he said. She didn’t care. Nothing mattered but the aching inside.

  “Lovers sometimes play with toys, do you know this?”

  Why did the word toy sud
denly fill her with dread? It must have been something in his voice. A devilish pleasure there beneath his soft tones. He arose. The sound of his boots on the floor sent shocks of panic into her. Was he leaving?

  Soon his footfalls returned. She opened her eyes. He dropped down to kneel beside the divan and he opened his palm. Two shiny silver balls lay there. “These are weighted balls. They are made to employ the same type of pressure inside you as I did previously with my hand. The theory is that a lover may not always wish to exert the effort to get the same results.”

  He leaned over her and parted her legs. “Christ, but you are so lovely here.” He bent to tease at her nub with feathery strokes.

  Fire shot up her belly. She cried out. He continued teasing her.

  He slipped the balls into her one by one. The novel sensation of cool metal sliding into her followed. He drew her legs together and the balls knocked together inside. Pinging, aching…

  “Oh, God!”

  He was slowly unbuttoning his waistcoat, watching her with hooded eyes. “Do you begin to guess what tonight shall be about?”

  A heated chill shuddered through her. “Torment for me?”

  “Well, yes, but torment only until you admit you want to be mine and that you will obey my dictates, the first and foremost of them that you shall live here and await my pleasure every Wednesday and perhaps some Saturdays.”

  “But David, that’s so unnecessary.”

  “It’s necessary to me.”

  “But why?”

  “I must have the peace of mind to know that you’re there and shall remain waiting there until I have need of you.”

  “But I do want you as a lover. I just don’t want to lose my own independence.”

  “You shall have your independence at all times—other than Wednesdays and Saturdays. You shall have everything a woman could ever want so long as it is in my power to give it to you.” He bent and kissed her stomach. “And I am very wealthy. I can give you a lot.”

  “Why can’t we just be kind to each other?”

  He chuckled softly “You mean why don’t I just make you come right now?”

  “That would be kind, David.”

  “It would take all the enjoyment out of tonight.” He took her hands. “Come now, up with you.”

  “What do you intend?”

  “Don’t ask questions, just obey.” He offered her a hand.

  With no choice that she could see, she took it and let him help her to her feet. He began working the laces on her evening gown.

  “We will leave the stockings and their garters. They are most charming. Do you know how to dance the minuet?”

  “I have always been a poor girl. I didn’t have a dancing master.”

  “Tonight, I shall play your dancing master. When you were a girl, you danced the ring around the rosie, did you not?”

  “Sometimes.”

  He had shed his waistcoat and was in the process of pulling his shirt over his head. He tossed it aside and raked a hand through his coal black, mussed hair. “I want you to dance for me now.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Surely he did not expect something like that from her. She wasn’t some damned opera dancer he’d acquired in a green room. “David, I cannot dance. Especially not before an audience—even just an audience of one.”

  “You can fuck with a measure of grace to match and exceed some of the best courtesans in London, Paris, and Rome.” He paused with his fall halfway undone and looked up. “Believe me, you can dance. You simply won’t.”

  “What happens if I won’t?”

  “Then I shan’t remove the balls.”

  “But I cannot dance with them inside.”

  “Therein lies your quandary, does it not? You must dance with them in place in order to have them removed.”

  “David, that’s not fair!”

  “I told you before, few things in life are fair. I think we shall call tonight’s exercise ‘Through the Fire.’”

  For a moment, she considered defying him. But wait—in order to defy someone, he has to have authority over you to begin with. “You have no authority over me.”

  “Darling, you have been giving me authority over you all evening.”

  She remembered how he had asked her to stay, to wear the gown, to stay for the evening meal, to come inside the house, to knell, to let him fuck her. She had complied with it all. She had wanted to play the bold courtesan in his drawing room but lost her courage. Never had the courage. Now he was ordering her to be bold, to dance for him.

  He was naked now, his body clearly showing his appreciation for her.

  “There’s no music.”

  “You’re an authoress. I know you have music in your head.”

  “Please, David, don’t do this. Just be kind to me.”

  He approached her, set his hands on her hips, and gave them a gentle yet steady push. Side to side. The balls clanged inside, shocks of stimulation rocked through her, followed by a stab of need. She couldn’t hold back a moan.

  “Like that and like this, Jeanne.” He moved her hips in a slow, tortuous circle.

  Fire sparked in her blood at the way he handled her. Directed her movements. Her loins pulsated and ached with urgency. His cock brushed her mons at one point. She gasped and tried to arch into him but he held her firm, forcing her through the motions of the most obscene type of dancing.

  He let her go and backed away.

  She missed his touch, his direction.

  He folded his arms over his chest.

  “Continue like that.”

  “You’re going to reward me, correct?”

  “Yes, love, I am.”

  Desperately clinging to that assurance, she worked her hips in a slow circle. At first there was nothing but the most painful desire. Heated wetness flowed from her core, so much it actually slicked the inside of her thighs. Goodness, she’d never known it could be like this. But then she intentionally clenched her inner muscles, tightened her buttocks and thighs. Squeezed her legs together and rotated her hips. She froze and gasped. It was almost enough.

  Enough stimulation to come.

  “Keep dancing.” This time his voice resounded with command. A direct order.

  It should have galled her. But instead it heated her blood even more. Defiantly, she worked her hips and clenched her inner muscles, faster, faster, faster.

  Then involuntary spasms took over. She didn’t have to clench herself any longer. But she was shaking, head to foot. Pleasure swept through her, white starbursts exploding behind her now closed eyes. She was flying, floating.

  She landed in strong arms. The pulsations receded quickly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, jutting her chin out in an expression of triumph. She had done it in spite of him.

  He smiled, his eyes like green fire. “My God.”

  Another wave of intense satisfaction shuddered through her. She moaned with it.

  “I didn’t think that would happen.” He squeezed her shoulders. “My God.”

  She was still falling down to earth. Relief was still pouring through her.

  “Come, love, down on your knees.” He gently pressed her shoulders.

  Dazed, weak and still trembling, she let him guide her until she knelt on the rug.

  “Spread your legs,” he said. She complied and he reached inside her and removed the metal balls.

  “Don’t move.” He walked away.

  “That seems to be your favorite phrase.” She gasped the words out with labored breaths.

  “Don’t speak either.”

  “Will you punish me?” She laughed at the prospect.

  “It could happen. Especially given your defiant bent.”

  Something in his tone sent a delicious shiver through her. But how ludicrous. She’d never allow a man to punish her like some naughty child.

  He returned with his cravat. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  Even though her arousal had been satisfied there was an emotional thrill to obe
y him and so she complied.

  With several quick motions, he folded the wide linen into a narrow strip then he leaned over her and reached behind her. He wrapped the cloth around her wrists and with a few tugs had her secured.

  He fondled her breasts, pinched the nipples until they beaded into sharp points. He pushed them together and slid his cock between them.

  She had wanted to take him into her mouth all evening. In the drawing room. Now she was practically drooling to feel his erection slide between her lips, to have him hold her head and thrust into her mouth as he had done previously. As no other man had done. He would not find enough friction between her breasts. He would need the wet, warm suction of her mouth to find completion. She knew it. She knew men well. But just when she was sure he was growing weary of the soft fucking he was getting from her breasts, he pulled away and took himself in hand again.

  With long, slow motions, he stroked himself. Fluid leaked and covered the head. Hunger to taste him, to lick him clean, made her lick her lips and swallow. “David?”

  He didn’t respond. He was watching the action of his hand on himself. As though she weren’t even there.

  He was tormenting her. Just as he had said he would. Equal parts desire and resentment burned into her. He groaned with just enough of a catch in his voice to tell her exactly when his hand brushed over his sweetest spot. Just how close the internal workings of equipment were to spasmodic release of his seed. She could see it in the tenseness of his hard stomach muscles. Any moment now, he would spend himself into the air. He stood so close, it would likely rain upon her. But that wouldn’t be any good.

  She was dying for him to spill down her throat. She wanted to feel the surge of his cock against her tongue, his hands tightening and pulling on her hair. A sort of agony, stronger even than when he had denied her release, came twisting up from the depths of her.

  “David, please.”

  He looked up and a devilish light entered his passion-darkened eyes. He stopped stroking himself and came closer. He held his erection close to her mouth. “Is this what you want?”