Her Mystery Duke Read online

  She turned her head to look at him and laid her cheek on the worn sheet. “David?”

  He didn’t look at her. His gaze remained riveted on her backside. His fiery eyes and taut expression reminded her of a hunter.

  She was the prey.

  Heated shivers tickled her insides.

  “Very soon now, sweeting.”

  His deep, dark velvet tone resounded deep in her belly. Wetness flowed from her core, a warm rush that only seemed to increase her arousal. Earlier her response to being tied up had been an interesting and deliciously thrilling experience.

  Now she frightened herself. She was unwittingly giving him more of herself than she should. More than was safe.

  “I don’t think too much of this—this…” She searched for the proper word. It was hard to think with his fingers exploring between her nether lips. “…position.”

  “Nonsense.” He slipped a finger inside. “You’re very wet.”

  His unconcerned tone galled her. But he chose that moment to withdraw his finger then thrust two fingers in. He spread his digits apart, stretching her. Dry-mouthed, unbearable anticipation overtook her. Held her immobile. Wiped away all her caution.

  She was going to give in. She knew it wasn’t safe but she couldn’t stop herself from arching her hips and pressing backwards in silent plea. Silent surrender.

  He withdrew, then he gripped her neck. His cock touched her straining nub and glided over it in circles. Sweet, sliding circles of pure pleasure. Fire raced up through her belly.

  Oh God, no one had ever…

  Unable to move any of her limbs, she moaned and curled her toes. He continued to tease her. Until she was soaking. Until she was writhing and wriggling her hips backwards in wild abandon.

  “Be still.” He slapped her buttock. Firmly but not too firm. The crack sounded sharply.

  She gasped. “David!”

  A gentle burn spread over her flesh. Her inner muscles contracted. Her need reached a more frantic pitch.

  He slapped her arse several times. She would have laughed aloud at her ridiculous position and predicament but her cunt was on fire now, clenching and begging to be filled.

  Please, oh please, David, fuck me! Fuck me hard.

  The thought seemed to echo in her ear in such desperate, pleading tones that she was grateful she hadn’t said it aloud.

  Or had she?

  Oh God. She rolled her head and sank her face deeper into the featherbed, seeking to bury it completely.

  “Oh, believe me. I intend to fuck you, hard. Very hard. I shall give you no mercy.”

  He laid several more of those firm, measured strikes to her bottom. She was beginning to crave the slap of his large hand on her arse. To crave the warm, tingling burn. Heavens, who would have guessed? Certainly never Jeanne.

  He stopped and his erection touched her entrance.

  She moaned a string of one syllable, non-sensible sounds.

  He slapped her arse again. A little harder this time. “Hush and be still.”

  She bit her lip and tried very hard to hold steady. It wasn’t easy. Energy vibrated through her whole body. He pushed into her on one swift, silken slide. Stretching, filling her. The pleasure was still stunning. Novel. She’d thought she had felt before with all the others but in truth she’d been numb. Not fully aroused.

  He moved. Cock and cunt rubbing on each other created delicious friction. Slurping sounds told her that she was getting wetter. He tightened his hold on her pelvis. She pressed backwards and ground her buttocks against his lower belly. He thrust harder, faster. His cods slapped her mons, tickling her nub.

  He paused and spanked her bottom, a little less lightly this time. Fiery sparks shot into her nub. He reached around and touched her quim, rubbing his fingers around her slick flesh. He thrust into her, harder yet, slamming against the mouth of her womb. She moaned and writhed uncontrollably.

  “Be still.” She heard the laugh in his breathless voice.

  He traced a finger down the crease between her buttocks and then he was touching…Oh God, he was actually touching her arsehole. Running his fingertip over it again and again in feathery circles. The sensation was strange yet also arousing.

  His other hand touched her nub, rubbing the side through the fleshy cover just the way she would if she were alone, the most direct, sure way to her completion. How did a man know about that? Her tension drew up into a neat little ball then began to unravel, in waves of perfect bliss.

  His finger entered her arse! Not a lot. Just a bit.

  He thrust his cock into her channel again, with vigor and force. Over and over.

  She screamed as pleasure slammed into her. A fierce vortex sucked her into another place, like falling down a well and coming into the sunlight on the other side of the earth.

  He withdrew and pushed away from her. She rolled on to her side. He stared down at her, all the carnality and sin in the world reflected in his hooded gaze. Just like the devil himself. Or Hades.

  Yes, oh, dear God, yes.

  That was the final story in her collection.

  Someone who fell down a well, all the way, and came out in the underworld.

  She laughed with joyful relief to have the story idea. The sound came out in hard pants.

  With several swift movements, he released her bonds. She rolled onto her side. He massaged her calves and feet for several moments while she lay there, accepting his touch. Then he took her by the shoulders. Sated and limp, she let him pull her to a sitting position. Little needles seemed to prick at her hands and feet as blood rushed into her limbs. But the vague discomfort couldn’t bother her. Her gaze transfixed on him as he held his cock.

  God, he was beautiful. Long and thick.

  He held his cock. “Suck me.”

  It wasn’t a request but a command. And one she couldn’t resist. She was dying to feel him in her mouth.

  “Here, kneel.” He urged her off the bed.

  She let him and dropped to her knees before him as he stood. He touched her cheek with a feathery brush of his fingertip. She leaned into his touch.

  He put his cock to her lips. Her scent mingled with his, an intoxicating, heady enticement. He was marked by her. She wanted to imprint herself on his memory for all time. She would consume him whole. Give him no mercy, no quarter. She leaned forward and opened her mouth and swallowed down into her throat in one glutinous move. She applied gentle suction, then increased the pressure rapidly as she moved back and forth. He fisted her hair.

  “God, God.” He groaned deeply. “God, that’s good.”

  He tightened his hold on her hair. The dull discomfort energized her. She shifted her feet and tried to control the urge to move. He thrust in and out of her mouth, her throat. Her heart hammered with her rising elation. His shaft began to quake.

  He gave a harsh sounding groan and tightened his hold. Sharp shudders raced from the roots of her hair down her nape and into her spine. He was holding her so unyieldingly that her neck craned…Oh God, it was so arousing. Her heart beat so hard that she became lightheaded. She shook, uncontrollably.

  She wanted his come so badly.

  She needed to taste him.

  “Christ, Jeannie.” His tone rang with near desperation. Pure need. He pushed into her throat, deeply. Testing her limits as no one had ever done. Had ever dared.

  He groaned. A loud, harsh sound of masculine surrender to release that resonated with such relief as she had never heard. His seed jetted into her throat. Instinctively, she swallowed and swallowed.

  Her heart sang with satisfaction. She’d never felt so alive and in the moment.

  This was what she loved. The moment when the whole focus of a man’s pleasure centered on her.

  And this wasn’t just any man. This was David. Her David.

  * * * *

  David stared at Jeanne’s golden head as she cradled his cock in her mouth. She was simply amazing. Better than amazing. He couldn’t find adequate words to describe her. Sh
e was the kind of girl poetry and songs were written about.

  He wasn’t any good at writing poetry.

  With his erection fading, he gently touched her shoulders and withdrew. She sat back on her heels, unwittingly providing him with a stunning view of her cunt. The sight made his gradually slowing heart begin to race again. His muscles weakened. His knees began to buckle and his field of vision began to narrow.

  Male vanity wouldn’t bear him fainting in front of her again. He immediately sat upon the floor. She stared at him with glassy eyes. Gooseflesh dotted her arms. It was cold there on the floor. He’d been a little thoughtless. He pulled a blanket from the bed and wrapped it about her shoulders.

  Her eyes were sad and her mouth had turned down a bit. She seemed to droop like a flower after sunset. He caressed her back through the blanket. “We really reached the heights and it can be disconcerting sometimes to come back to earth.”

  He smiled.

  She didn’t return it.

  Would she cry?

  Other women had cried at times like this. But if Jeanne did, he sensed it would be something rare. Something with heart and soul.

  If Jeanne cried for him, it would mean she could also love him.

  That last thought left him a little shaken. What was he doing even thinking something like that? He didn’t need any woman, much less this girl, loving him.

  Strength was returning to his legs. He stood and reached down her. “Here, let’s go to bed.”

  She put her hands into his and let him help her to stand. She still seemed to be a bit listless. He left her and went to wash. Cold water from the chipped pitcher and basin proved a particularly bracing and unique experience for a peer. When he finished, he brought her a cup of brandy. He handed to her and she drank some. He took it back and finished it off.

  Once he joined her under the covers, she turned to him. Color had returned to her face. “How did you do that to me?”

  “What?”

  “Making me come by only touching my breasts. I never came in that way.”

  “I didn’t merely touch your breasts. I restrained you and introduced you to something novel. That was your body reacting. Your arousal. Sometimes carnal feeling can be expressed in that way if a woman is strongly aroused. But not all women can experience it that way.”

  “And…the other?”

  “The other?”

  A half-smile graced her pretty, pink mouth and she turned away. “You put your fingers into my…arse.”

  “That other.” He chuckled, relieved that she was coming around. He had feared that he might have misread her and pushed too hard, too fast.

  She turned back to him. Her smile was radiant like sunshine. “I never dreamed of anything like you have shown me.”

  He had so much more he’d like to show her. However, he had better not indulge again. He mustn’t exhaust himself for he had to return to his life. Today. No more excuses. No more delays.

  No more shameless self-indulgence.

  Jeanne had begun to drift into a half-sleeping state. David caressed her hip and awoke her. “Jeanne, tell me about the first.”

  She opened her eyes and struggled to awake. “The first?”

  “Your first lover.”

  “He was Papa’s doctor.”

  “His doctor?”

  “Yes.”

  “You mean to say he just took advantage of your situation?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that. He helped me.”

  His lip curled. “You mean he helped himself to you.”

  She gave him a steady look. “He helped me.”

  “Explain that.”

  “He knew I had financial troubles. He found me a position as a maid of all work. But goodness, I had a very difficult time being in service. I get too easily distracted. I start something and then forget it for another task. I would eventually manage to finish everything, but of course they wanted things done more systematically.”

  “How old were you?”

  “I was seventeen.”

  “You simply needed to be trained.”

  “One cannot train aptitude into someone who is dreadfully lacking in it.”

  “You needed to be trained. Time and patience spent on a young and inexperienced servant is one of the best, most long-paying investments one can ever make in terms of service and loyalty over the course of the years.”

  “Well, I did better at the next position but one day, the perfect scene came to me for a story. I had to write some notes down. I was caught and they dismissed me and complained bitterly to the doctor.”

  His lips twisted into a cynical smile.

  “What are you thinking?”

  He paused.

  “Tell me.”

  It seemed he debated with himself whether to answer. She sensed this was something about the difference in their situations. He must be an employer of servants himself.

  She gentled her tone. “Please.”

  His expression softened. He smoothed a lock of her hair back then tucked it behind her ear.

  “They dismissed you because they found out you were literate. All the world despises a lower servant who is literate.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that was the reason.”

  “Jeanne, I am telling you it is the very reason. I would wager a year’s rents on it.”

  So, he was a property owner. Of course he was. But how large was his estate? It really didn’t matter. After tomorrow she would never see him again.

  “What happened next?” His voice rang with impatience.

  “At the third position, the master began to pay me too much attention and his wife wasn’t happy. She accused me of being fractious and disobedient. The doctor he told me that he would never recommend me for another position—he had put his reputation at risk three times. He said I was just not the right cut of cloth for service.”

  “You were much too young for such a determination to be made.”

  “I think he was correct, David. I am a little like Papa in that way. I daydream too much and I become distracted. But the expense of keeping Papa comfortable was mounting and I needed to eat and have a roof over my head. The doctor explained to me that some women are just meant to serve men and to give them pleasure.

  “He said if I would be agreeable, he would take me to his bed and show me what to do. In exchange, he would pay Papa’s expenses himself and give me money for rent and food. Later he helped me find other providers from among those he trusted. I never had to suffer the indignity of selling my wares on the street or in some tavern. I never had to be afraid that a man would intentionally hurt me.”

  David‘s sharp inhalation made her turn and look at him. His nostrils had flared, ever so slightly. There was a pinched look to his expression. Authority and power suddenly radiated from him. He seemed to be a stranger lying beside her.

  She tried to back away but he tightened his hold on her. “Hold for a moment. You mean to tell me that not only did the doctor know you were a virgin and that you had no formal training to make your own living but that he still took advantage of your dire circumstances? And his solution was to train you to be a whore for his friends?”

  “He was very kind to me.”

  “You were a virgin.”

  “He was very considerate about that part, very gentle and patient.”

  “Oh, I see—the very soul of consideration, was he?”

  “I was very nervous.”

  “You were terrified.”

  “Terrified is too strong a word. I was apprehensive about the pain. But he saw to it I became quite tipsy on claret and he applied some salve that made everything numb, I felt no pain when he penetrated me.”

  David actually paled and gaped at her for a long moment. “Good. God.”

  “Stop, please. You’re making it sound as though he were this heinous villain.”

  “He took your innocence.” David sat and then swept his hand about the chamber. “And left you here.”

  “What was
he supposed to do?”

  “He could have wed you—or kept you in better quarters.”

  “Wasn’t Thérèse your mistress?”

  “That’s not the same.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No, it is not the same at all. I showered her with every luxury. In addition, I gave her security. More security than most women find in their marriages. She also was a woman, fully grown and capable of making an informed decision. She wasn’t some starry-eyed, seventeen-year-old chit.”

  “I wasn’t starry-eyed.”

  “All seventeen-year-olds are starry-eyed.”

  “I wasn’t seventeen when he took me to bed. I had just turned eighteen.”

  “He took shameless advantage of you. And he didn’t even give you pleasure.”

  “He gave me pleasure.”

  David gave her skeptical look.

  “Not as you do, but there was some pleasure. But David, I don’t want you to have the wrong impression of the doctor. He helped me when no one else would.”

  “Surely you had relations who would help?”

  “When I was sixteen, when Papa first became unable to work, I went to his family in Marylebone. I humbled myself and I was turned away by a servant at their doorstep. They were ashamed of Papa’s descent into madness. They feared his child would share this insanity and they wished only to forget the bond.”

  “Who was your father’s father?”

  “He is a well-respected barrister.”

  “What about your mother’s family?”

  “She was a clergyman’s daughter, the third youngest of eleven children. She was sent to be a governess but she dreamed of being an artist.”

  “She taught you to read and write?”

  “Yes, Papa did as well. He was proud of me.” She couldn’t help a smile. “He called me his ‘clever girl’ and encouraged me to write my daydreams down as stories. He was a very charming man. Mama was besotted with him from the first, she claimed. Her family did not approve of him. He already showed signs of instability.”

  “Did he? Such as?”

  “At the age of thirty-five he abandoned a successful legal practice and devoted himself to his art. But such wild visions fueled his art. Many people were repulsed. His work was shocking, bordering on sacrilegious and obscene. But Mama was young and naïve. She thought he was a rare genius and he promised her so much. He promised to develop her art and to help her become known for her talents. Since Mama was under twenty-one, they ran away to wed. Her family struck her name from the family Bible. Each year at her father’s birthday, she wrote to him, and each year he ignored her letters. Why would I have ever expected help from them? Especially since I am tainted with my father’s insane seed?”