The Madam Duchess Page 2

  “Do it, my Lord. Free your cock before it bursts the seams on your trousers.”

  He slowly unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them to the floor. His manhood sprang free, proud and erect against a thatch of black hair. His rod was massive in size—longer and thicker than James’ had been.

  “And now, Little One? What will you have me do?”

  “Come to me,” she said, but the words could barely be heard because of the dryness in her throat.

  He came and stood in front of her, the most beautiful specimen of man she had ever laid eyes on. Her thoughts not once veered to her dead husband or James, her most recent lover. Her thoughts only centered around one man. He captivated her attention, and she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone before.

  Chapter Three

  Stefan Anthony Whitworth, the new Duke of Hawthorne, had never seen anyone as lovely as his distant cousin’s widow. He’d been on a tour in India when he’d gotten the news of his cousin’s death and his newly inherited title. And when he’d made arrangements to come back to London, it was only to find out that his cousin had left the Hawthorne estates in disrepair and his widow in complete financial ruin.

  He wasn’t a heartless bastard. He would have seen that his cousin’s widow was taken care of for her remaining days. But that was before he’d set eyes on her. James J. Randolph—Solicitor, had been a school chum of his and continued to be one of his closest friends. He’d pointed her out one day as they were riding in Hyde Park and he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since. She was not the aging widow he’d thought she’d be, but a young woman, only a few years past her debut. It was pure luck that James had been the late Duke’s solicitor, who was also to be passed on to the new Duke if he so wished.

  And now she stood before him, the beauty of her nakedness causing his cock to jerk and long for her moist channel. She would belong to him.

  He stood still in front of her, waiting for her commands. He’d known all along that she had little experience in the bedroom. Her late husband had been old enough to be her grandfather when they’d wed, and surely his advanced age and conservative nature had done nothing but make the marriage act nothing more than a necessity to breed an heir. She couldn’t have found much pleasure. If any.

  “I’ve done as you commanded, Little One.” He brushed the tips of his fingers over her neatly pinned hair, plucking pins and tossing them to the floor so her hair spilled down around her shoulders. “What do you wish to do with me?”

  “I wish to taste you,” she said softly.

  Her mask was a hindrance at first, and he wished he could discard it to see the beauty of her face, but he knew that he must keep up the charade. Her hand was hesitant around his shaft, stroking softly at first, and then squeezing harder as she gained confidence. He watched as her pink tongue flicked out and tasted the moisture that had seeped from the tip of his prick, and his eyes shuttered closed at the soft wetness that surrounded him. She cupped his sac gently while increasing the pressure around his shaft until he knew he was close to coming. She’d nip with her teeth from the base of his shaft and then quickly soothe with her tongue, picking up rhythm and speed until he knew he had to pull away.

  “You must stop now,” he said between gritted teeth.

  She answered him by closing her lips around him completely, swallowing his shaft as far as she could take it. The gentle suction of her mouth and the swirling of her tongue was all it took to send him over the edge.

  He came with a shout, plunging his hands into her hair and thrusting in and out of her mouth. She took every drop of his essence, and he knew she’d also taken part of his soul.

  “My, God,” he whispered as his knees gave way. He kneeled before her, like a servant to a queen. “And now what is your command,” he asked when he finally got his breath back.

  “It is my Lord’s choice,” she said with a promising gleam in her eye. “I am but your humble servant.”

  “Then let us get started.” He helped her stand and took her place on the bench, straddling it as she had done. He pulled her down so she sat facing away from him, scooted her back so they were pressed together. He could tell she was confused as she showed awkwardness while he positioned her. Stefan spread her legs wide and propped them over his thighs. Her most intimate petals opened, like a rose in the early morning light.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” he commanded.

  She obeyed and locked her hands around the back of his neck. It caused her breasts to thrust outward and her nipples pebbled into hard peaks.

  “No matter what I do to you, you can not move your hands from around my neck. I want you to be as still as possible. Do you understand?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Good, now close your eyes and relax.” As she did as he instructed, he brought his hands up and placed them gently on her thighs. She jumped at his touch, but he soothed her with soft words, as he would a skittish horse. He massaged her inner thighs, working his way closer and closer toward her moist petals. He could see the dampness of her curls glistening in the moonlight.

  “What do you imagine when I touch you like this?” he asked. He skimmed her curls lightly, glancing over the protruding bud of pleasure. “Do you think of your husband, your other lovers?” He’d known that James had seduced Alexandra on his visit to her. He could not blame James for wanting her as long as he didn’t get attached. James had never been particular about his partners. He just liked to fuck. But his days of seducing Alexandra would soon be over.

  “Or maybe you pretend that we are already lovers, so attuned to one another that words never need be spoken?”

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  “But we’re not lovers. We are strangers. I am but a masked man as you are a masked woman. We could be anyone. And we’ll never know. But we’ll fuck anyway, because how could we do anything less now that we’ve discovered one another?

  His right hand roamed up towards her breast while his left continued to stroke her outer lips. He took her nipple between his fingers and clamped down hard.

  “Ahhhh,” she screamed out.

  “You must be still or I will stop.” He could feel her pulsing pussy beneath his fingers, and with each pinch of her nipple it spasmed.

  “No, don’t stop,” she begged.

  “What are you imagining behind your closed eyes, Little One? Are you pretending it’s my cock rubbing against your nether lips?” He took two fingers and rubbed up and down her slit, spreading the moisture. She moaned and strained against him. “Or maybe you’re imagining other delectable pleasures. Forbidden pleasures. Maybe you wish to feel my cock in other places.”

  He moved his fingers lower until they circled the tiny star of her anus. She stiffened as he explored the forbidden territory, but her body betrayed her lust and she moaned as pleasure she’d never felt rocketed through her body. She was so wet that his finger fit easily inside her puckered rosebud.

  “There is much pleasure to be had here,” he whispered. “My cock would stretch your virgin opening and I would fuck you like a stallion does a mare.” His spent cock was already hard again. The talk of taking her up the arse was a temptation, but she wasn’t ready for such steps yet.

  “Please, I need release,” she whimpered. “I’m begging you.”

  “As milady commands.” His voice was husky with desire. The sight of her presented before him, open to the world, but lost to her own sensual pleasures was the most beautiful display he’d ever seen. He flicked his fingers over the swollen nub hidden in her folds and clamped tighter on her nipple. Her body vibrated under his touch and she moaned louder with each flick of his fingers. He rubbed her clit rapidly, alternating between circling the bud and flicking it with his fingers until she her head was tossing back and forth against his shoulder. Her body bucked beneath his fingers and juices ran between his fingers as she came.

  “Yesssssssssssss!” she screamed, his orders about keeping still all but forgotten.


  Her body was still shuddering when he lifted her and sat her down on his rigid cock. Even as prepared as her opening was, it was a tight fit. He pushed her down further on his shaft and gritted his teeth as her walls pulsed around him from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

  “God, you feel good,” he murmered.

  She was limp in his arms, her face slack and her eyes closed. Had she fainted? Stefan carried her weight and used his strength to pump in and out of her. Her head bobbed wildly, and low guttural moans escaped from her mouth. Her black hair trailed down her back and tickled against his stomach. He wouldn’t last much longer. The feel of her cunt around him was better than he’d ever imagined.

  She began moving with him, against him. Despite the chilly night, sweat dampened his brow as he pushed into her farther, the tip of his cock bottoming out against her womb. He slid in and out, easier now, and he cupped her mound with his hand. The slight pressure was all it took to send her over the edge. The pulses started deep within her channel, milking his cock until his sac tightened.

  He growled and shouted as he released his semen inside of her. He felt it jet out of his cock and flood her inner walls. He’d never released with such complete abandon. He’d always held part of himself back with his other lovers—A release that was perfunctory at best, a means to an end.

  He held Alexandra around her waist, slumped over her limp body, his breaths ragged and his heart racing. He was in danger of revealing everything to her, and he knew he had to escape before he said too much, before he told of his intentions and his plans for their future. She would come to him in due time.

  He pulled out of her slowly, enjoying the last grasp of her pussy as it released him. He placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck and went to retrieve his clothes.

  He glanced one last time at her prone form, her hair cascading to the floor, her eyes closed and her breathing even. The urge to carry her away was fierce, but with complete control, he turned and walked away from her.

  Chapter Four

  It had been more than a month since her dark angel had taken her the first time, and the experience would be burned into her memory forever. Her debts were paid and she was on her way to becoming a wealthy woman. The requests for invitations to her events were staggering, but James continued to control all of the details.

  James visited her frequently, providing her with papers to sign and statements to look over. He always ended his visits the same way—with his cock shoved deep in her pussy as he bent her over the couch. He never took her any other way. Never in a bed or against a wall. Never where he had to look her in the eyes. Her body was always satisfied, but her heart never was. James would never measure up to her dark angel.

  While her days were filled sating James’ lust, her nights were filled with anticipation. Her dark angel had frequented her bedchamber on three different occasions. He was always dressed in dark clothes and his mask was always in place. But he renewed their passion each time, exceeding what it had been the time before. He always shushed her questions with his fingers and drugged her with his kisses.

  He’d taken her repeatedly, in every sinful way, until dawn would begin to creep through the windows. Then he would leave and she’d be left alone to wait for the next time. James would not tell her the masked man’s name, no matter how she begged. And she sensed he enjoyed tormenting her with his knowledge.

  And now it was a week until the next soiree. A week until her she’d get to see her secret lover again. Alex found herself at loose ends, restless in the confined loneliness of her station.

  She’d been out riding, enjoying the brisk weather and the colors of fall. Alex noticed the carriage at her front steps as she rode her mare over the last hilltop. She recognized James’ carriage, but she didn’t know why he’d come to call. He usually left her toward the end of each week to travel to London. She spurred the mare with the heels of her feet and flew down the mountain, her velvet green riding dress whipping in the wind as she increased her speed.

  James was waiting for her on the steps, his hat in his hand tapping against his leg impatiently. She pulled on the reins in front of him and dismounted, giving the mare over to her groom.

  “What is it, James? Is something the matter?”

  “We must go immediately, Your Grace,” he said, taking her by the arm.

  “Where are we going? I’ve just come in from riding. Let me at least change my gown and tidy my hair.”

  “There’s no time.” He lifted her into the carriage despite her muttering protests. “The Duke of Hawthorne has heard of your sordid soirees. He sent a missive to my London office and demanded our immediate presence at his country home.”

  “Oh, my,” Alex gasped. “What shall he do to us? What did the messenger say?”

  “Just what I told you,” James said impatiently.

  The carriage started with a jerk and she struggled to get her skirts righted on the seat. “The message said to make haste to Whitworth Castle, and to bring the lovely young patroness who has become known as the Madam of the Ton. Which would be you, Your Grace.”

  “I see no reason to be upset, James. I did what I had to do, and I’d do it again. I have not sold myself, only my home for others to have pleasure.”

  “And what of your masked stranger? Have you not sold yourself to him?”

  Alex gave him a withering glare. “Do not trivialize my feelings. I’m free to sleep with whom I choose. Do not be jealous because you are not the only man who has my body.”

  James nodded his head regally and pushed aside the curtain in the window to look out. “We are here, Your Grace. Mayhaps you can work your numerous charms on the new Duke of Hawthorne the same as you did on the previous one.”

  Alex lighted from the carriage with all the dignity of a queen. The butler answered their knock with a haughty stare and ushered them into the library. Alex looked through the rooms and marveled at the changes that had been made since she and her husband had lived there. Gone was the rotted wood and crumbling stone. The library was dark and cozy, plush couches sat in the middle of the room in front of a warm fire. Her husband’s desk was polished to a gleam and sat in the corner. Books filled the shelves and paintings decorated the wall.

  “His Grace is still out on a short errand,” the butler said, clearing his throat in apology. “He’ll want you to wait here in comfort for his return.” He shut the door behind him and left them alone.

  Alex paced in front of the fire, her nerves building the longer she was made to wait. James sat comfortably on the couch and watched her pace.

  “Where the devil is he?” Alex asked. “Conceited man, demanding for us to come to him and then to leave us waiting.”

  “Calm down, love. I’ve decided you were right. We have no reason to worry about the Duke. What’s done is done and he can’t stop us. Hawthorne Cottage is yours and he can’t take it from you. Maybe he just wishes to be invited to the next one.”

  Alex stopped and thought of this, but then shook her head. From what she’d heard of the Duke that scenario would be most unlikely. He was reclusive. No one knew if he was young or old. No one knew of his business interests, and he never made appearances at any of the larger bashes that London society gave. He was a man that inspired worry, and she had no idea how to handle him.

  “Come sit by me, love. I’ll relax you so you can face our foe.”

  He held out a hand and Alex went to take it. She let him pull her down to the couch and lay her back against the arm. His face was gilded in the firelight, and though he was handsome, even beautiful, he still failed to spark the same desire that her dark angel had.

  He unbuttoned her riding skirt and pulled it down along with her drawers and dropped them to the floor. Her womanly folds were bared to him, her legs splayed wide. The look of desire in his eyes was enough to make her pussy drip.

  “We could be caught,” she said breathlessly.

  “Does that excite you?” He ran a finger down her drenched slit and held it up
so her cream shone in the firelight. “Ah, I can see that the thought excites you a great deal. “

  He lowered his face and inhaled her womanly scent. Alex moaned as she felt his tongue probing her outer lips, and again as he suckled on the tight bud of pleasure. He grabbed her bottom in a tight grip, and she used the leverage to grind against his face. His tongue worked her clit frantically and she could feel the start of an orgasm overtaking her.

  “It seems you’ve started the party without me,” a familiar voice said from somewhere in the room.

  Alex gasped and opened her eyes. She could not see the man, but she knew his voice as well as she knew her own. It was him. Her dark angel.

  “You always did have rotten timing, Stefan,” James said, not bothering to lift himself from the compromising position he was in. “Couldn’t you see the lady was just about to come?”

  “Wh…What’s going on here? Who’s Stefan?” Alex asked, directing her questions at James since the other man had not bothered to come into view.

  “Stefan Whitworth, the Duke of Hawthorne,” James said with a rascal’s grin.

  Alex pushed him away and gathered her skirts, covering the lower half of her body. She stood and looked around the room for the man she’d known so intimately. He stood by the door, his arms crossed over his chest, and even now his face was shadowed.

  “You have both played me for a fool,” she said angrily. “It is obvious you know each other.”

  “Quite well, actually,” Stefan said. “We grew up together. It was James that first brought you to my attention.”

  “How kind of him,” Alex said sarcastically. “And have you both gotten what you wanted from me? Am I to be left alone to be ridiculed because of your folly? I don’t think I wish to be a part of your games.”

  “Of course you do,” Stefan said. “And you were never just folly, Alexandra. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. The idea of having soirees that catered to others sexual needs was my idea. I knew you would be hesitant to get to know me if I called on you in a regular manner. There are proprieties in polite society that neither of us have the patience for.”