The Theft of a Dukedom Read online

  could feel the tremble of her orgasm building and her

  vagina wept in desire.

  This was why she loved Thomas Stafford. Not for

  the titles or the wealth, but for this. To feed a wanton

  desire she didn’t know she possessed. He had awoken a

  ravaging beast when he’d seduced her a year ago, a

  beast she hadn’t been able to fulfil or banish. She could

  feel her orgasm building, and it was good. Suddenly her

  body was awash with fire and she shuddered as she

  burst over the pinnacle into ecstasy. All thought was

  banished from her mind and replaced with a white-hot

  inferno.

  Thomas kept her body on the pinnacle for as

  long as possible and every time she moaned, cried or

  screamed, his penis throbbed even more. Eventually her

  hips slumped back onto the bed, as she panted for breath. ‘Oh! God! Tommy. I’ll marry you tomorrow if

  you promise to do that every night.’ She gasped out. Thomas shuffled his body up the bed, adjusting

  his rigid member with his hand into her tight vaginal

  opening. He pushed in slightly and then looked in her

  sparkling eyes. ‘I think I can promise you that, without

  any hardship at all.’ He murmured and crushed his lips

  over hers as he thrust his manhood forcefully into her

  tight, wet passage. She moaned and lifted her hips to

  take him impossibly deep and she whimpered as he

  pulled back, before thrusting forward again.

  ‘Yes, Tommy.’ She murmured and moaned

  again, ‘yes, I’ll marry you.’ She finished as she opened

  her legs as wide as she possibly could.

  ‘Oh! Vic!’ He whispered and increased the pace a

  little bit and as she orgasmed for the second time he

  increased the pace again, he thought he might get

  another orgasm out of her before he ejaculated. She

  was moaning continually, she’d already dug her nails

  into his shoulders and he knew she would start

  screaming in a moment. He felt his testicles cramp and

  reached between them to gently stroke her clitoris.

  ‘Come for me, Vic?’ he begged. ‘Have mercy, come for

  me, please!’ and he felt the ripple of her orgasm in her

  internal muscles as she milched him. His body froze in

  the rapture of his orgasm and he felt his penis flexing as

  it spewed his semen against the mouth of her trembling

  womb.

  She wrapped her legs about his body and

  squeezed the breath out of him.My God!She thought.

  He’s just come inside me! That’s the first time he hasn’t yanked himself out at the last second! Maybe that’s why I’ve never felt satisfied?She felt every last throb of her orgasm before she relaxed and threw her arms out like Christ on the cross.

  ‘Vic?’ He whispered. She lifted her long lashes and looked up into his feral green eyes. ‘Tell me what your thinking?’

  ‘I’m thinking you’ve never done that before. And now that I’ve said yes, you can be unrestrained.’ She was aware of the length of pulsing, hard flesh still deep within her body.

  ‘Are you worried?’ he asked softly. She shook her head and smiled at him. He kissed her softly. ‘Good. Because there is nothing I would like more than to see you nurse our child in your arms.’

  ‘At my age childbirth becomes more dangerous.’

  She murmured.

  ‘I think I’m more aware of that than you are.’ He

  said gruffly and slowly disengaged from her body. He

  rolled on his back and relaxed.

  They were quiet, each alone with their thoughts.

  ‘Would you like me to remove your boots?’ she asked

  provocatively and got on her knees, straddled his legs

  and lifted his left foot. As she bent over to pull the boot,

  he could see the cleft in her bottom as a dark shadow

  through the veil of her chemise and he felt the first

  throb of his penis.She is so damnably sexy!He thought

  as the boot came loose and she tossed it onto the floor.

  He watched her cheeks wiggle as she endeavoured to get the second boot off. As it came free, she fell

  forwards, so that she was on her hands and knees. ‘Now that is a position I would love to make love

  to you in.’ He murmured as her chemise rode up to

  revealed her lower body and his penis throbbed as it

  engorged again.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. ‘Really?’

  she asked in surprise. He didn’t waste any time

  scrambling down the bed and smoothing his palms over

  her buttocks, pushing the chemise up, his palms

  continuing down as he prepared to push her thighs

  further apart. ‘Isn’t this scandalous?’

  ‘Nothing is scandalous if both parties enjoy it.’

  He murmured as he slid the head of his penis up her

  slick cleft to her vaginal opening. He pushed inside, her

  passage velvet lined with his semen, slowly so as not to

  startle her and just held it in place. ‘How does that

  feel?’ he asked softly as he stroked his hands over her

  hips and down the front of her thighs, easing his fingers

  under her garters.

  ‘Strange, but nice. If you see what I mean.’ She

  muttered.

  ‘You just stay like that and leave this to me.’ He

  mumbled as he slowly withdrew and eased back into

  heaven in an erotic rhythm. As he elicited the first moan

  from her he pushed her chemise up and over her head,

  stroked his hands over her back and around onto her

  breasts. He kept the pace slow and erotic; he didn’t

  want to frighten her and slowly he let his right hand

  drift down from her breast to her cleft and he gently teased and tormented her clitoris. He could barely contain himself as he felt the tiny muscles in her vagina ripple with the first pulse of her orgasm. ‘You’re coming.’ He gasped in ecstasy as he thrust his full length into her and clasped her stomach to hold her still. She cried out with every spasm as they orgasmed again and he buried his face in her hair as his sperm cascaded into her. He held her trembling body in his hands, to stop her from collapsing on the bed. ‘Thank you.’ he murmured as he slowly slid his softening manhood from her slick body. ‘That was beautiful.’ He sighed as he collapsed sideways and took her with him, clutching her

  frail body to his chest, his face buried in her hair. ‘Well, it was different, I’ll give you that, but I’m

  not sure I liked it.’ She said softly.

  ‘Why?’ he asked concerned and propped himself

  up on his elbow and traced his lips over her upper arm. ‘I felt very exposed.’ She whispered and turned

  her face away from him. ‘Very vulnerable.’ She

  mumbled into the coverlet.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He whispered. ‘I won’t do it again. I

  didn’t realize it would make you feel uncomfortable.’ ‘I’m not as experienced as you think, you know.’

  She said embarrassed.

  ‘I wouldn’t expect you to be a courtesan.’ He

  said calmly and stroked his hand down her arm.

  ‘Anyway, I love you just the way you are.’ He kissed her

  cheek gently. ‘I should take my britches off now.’ And

  he scrambled off the bed to remove his final pieces of

  clothing. Unlike a lot of men, Thomas always wore stockings on his feet. At first Victoria had sniggered when she saw them, but at least he didn’t have smelly feet. As he stood at the side of the huge bed removing his c
lothes she looked at his fine body. It was hard to believe he was nearly fifty, his shoulders were muscular and his chest broad, with a fine mat of dark hair. His abdomen was like a greyhound, concave stomach and flat belly with a line of hair down to the bush in his groin. His hips were lean and his thighs well muscled from years of riding. His buttocks were just as firm and his manhood impressive, even when it was flaccid. He turned away to throw his britches onto a chair and she marvelled again at his back and the huge trapezius muscles that rippled with his movements.

  She climbed on her knees and shuffled to the edge of the bed and as Thomas turned back she murmured. ‘You are such a sexy man.’ And kissed his chest as her fingers stroked down his body to his flaccid manhood. Taking it gently in her hand, she stroked it from tip to base and gasped as it seemed to expand to

  twice the size.

  ‘If you play with that, my love,’ he said hoarsely,

  ‘you should expect it to spit in your eye.’

  She looked up at him and smiled. ‘I would have

  to have my face close to it for that.’ She said innocently,

  making him groan.

  ‘Don’t tempt me, Madam!’ he said smiling and

  pushed her back onto the bed, so that he could remove

  her stockings and garters. He delicately pulled the

  ribbon holding her stocking up as he stroked his lips over her bared thigh and followed the stocking to her foot with his lips.I wonder if he’d like me to lick his cock. She wondered as she watched his manhood swell while he was removing her stockings.I wonder what it would taste like. That’s just too sinful for words, Victoria!She scolded herself. By the time she was completely nude, they were ready again and he made love to her until she

  fell into an exhausted sleep.

  He could see the first flicker of dawn in the sky

  and knew he should go. She was lying on her side, like a

  child and he was snuggled up behind her, with her

  golden hair spilled across his body. He carefully rolled

  on his back and lifted a handful of her hair to his face,

  sniffing the smell of her.

  Carefully he climbed out of bed and dressed

  slowly, admiring her body in the increased light. He

  knew she was nearly thirty eight, but looking like that

  she didn’t look a day over twenty eight. Her alabaster

  skin was flawless still and there wasn’t a line on her

  face. Her breasts weren’t quite as pert as a twenty year

  olds, but they were supple and fitted perfectly into his

  hands. There was none of the flab around her middle

  that Christina had developed after childbirth, but

  Victoria had only had one. Christina had endured five

  pregnancies, the last so exhausting that it took her life.

  When he was dressed he stood and looked down at her.

  He gently stroked her hair and she moaned and rolled

  on her back, spreading her legs, as if he’d stroked her

  pubic hair. He stared at that small triangle of golden hair

  and the rivulets of his sperm on her inner thighs. Taking a deep breath, because he would like nothing better than to get back into bed and make love to her again, he

  gently flicked the covers over her body and quietly left. Charles had taken his carriage home, but Berkley

  Square wasn’t that far from Grosvenor Square so he

  decided to walk. He didn’t see another living soul, which

  was strange for London, because there was usually

  somebody about. As he opened the door of his mansion

  Havers was waiting to greet him.

  ‘Don’t you ever sleep?’ he asked with a quirk of

  a fine dark eyebrow.

  ‘Not when you’re abroad, Your Grace.’ Havers

  said. ‘Lord Charles..’ he stopped and cleared his throat.

  ‘..forgive me, The Marquis is in the formal drawing room

  and Lady Amelia is in bed, Your Grace.’

  ‘Very well. Have Chivers draw a bath for me.’

  Havers nodded and turned away as Thomas opened the

  door of the formal drawing room quietly. He poked his

  head around the door and just looked at his son. Charles

  was flat on his back, in front of the fire, with both the

  brandy decanter and claret jug standing empty on the

  hearth.

  ‘Havers?’ he called softly and the butler arrived.

  ‘How long has he been there?’

  ‘Since Lady Amelia went up to her room, Your

  Grace.’ He said softly. ‘I didn’t know whether to fetch a

  blanket for him.’

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind, Havers. I think it’s safer to

  leave him there.’

  ‘Very good, Your Grace.’ And the butler sent a

  footman off for a blanket.

  Thomas took the thick blanket and carefully laid

  it over his son. The urge to stroke his head was

  overwhelming, but he hadn’t done that since the first

  night he found him on the floor, when he’d touched

  him, Charles had almost killed him before he was awake

  properly. He’d already warned Amelia about startling

  him when he was sleeping and so far she had stayed out

  of his room at night. Charles groaned, turned on his side

  and pulled the blanket up around his ears, as if he was

  freezing. Thomas looked down on his son and wondered

  how many nights he’d laid out in the open air and just

  what horrors he’d seen, to make him sleep in front of

  the fire on the floor instead of in a perfectly good bed.

  Chapter 3

  Richard Dunsmore climbed out of the coach and looked at the facade of the ducal residence. He stepped out smartly, as he was eager to see Charles again. He almost ran up the steps and a footman had the door open before he got there. Havers looked at Richard enquiringly.

  ‘Lord Richard Dunsmore.’ He announced himself properly for a change. ‘I was invited by Charles Stafford.’

  ‘Of course, My Lord. The Marquis is in the garden with Lady Amelia. If you’ll follow me, Sir.’

  Richard was surprised.Who is Lady Amelia?He thought.Pound to a penny it’s a future wife!He followed the butler, curbing his impatience. Eventually they reached a wide flagged terrace and there in the centre of the lawn was Charles in sword play with the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.The lucky bastard!He thought profoundly as the butler showed him to a seat at the table.

  He watched the girl, more than Charles. She was wearing a pale yellow gown with lime green ribbons. Her hair had been severely braided to her scalp and was a sort of mousy brown. Her skin was like alabaster and her face was alive with mirth, green eyes glinting and a smile curved her lips. She handled the wooden sword like an expert. He admired the strength of her wrist as she lunged at her opponent’s torso. Charles barely managed to parry the thrust.

  ‘You see, I was right!’ Lady Amelia shouted in glee. ‘You would never be able to make Swiss cheese of Ponsonby at the moment!’ and she lunged again, forcing Charles onto his back foot. It was a thrust designed to make him shuffle backwards and if she’d followed it to a successful conclusion, her wooden sword would have hit him squarely in the solar plexus.

  ‘For heaven’s sake! I can’t run around yet!’ Charles replied, as he parried again. ‘I can barely make a riposte!’ and there was a sudden clash of wood and Charles’s sword went flying across the exquisitely tailored lawn. Lady Amelia let out a triumphant yelp as the point of her wooden sword pricked Charles’s shirt over his heart. ‘Very nice!’ Charles said as he looked down at the offending timber. ‘It’s a good job these are made of wood!’ and Lady Amelia laughed gaily as he turned to retrieve his sword and saw Richard sat at the table. ‘Richard! You’re
early!’ Charles carefully retrieved his walking stick from the grass and limped towards the terrace. ‘When did you get here?’

  ‘About five minutes ago. Are you going to introduce me?’ he asked impertinently, getting to his feet as Kitty arrived at the table with the swords.

  ‘Of course, Lady Amelia, this is my friend Lord Richard Dunsmore.’ Charles smiled as Richard bowed. ‘Richard, this is my sister Kitty!’

  Kitty did a perfect bob curtsy and said hello demurely. ‘I must go in now. Aunt Agatha is taking me to the dressmakers this morning. So, I shall see you at lunch?’

  ‘I would think so, Kitty. Have fun and don’t skimp on the lace. Make it expensive for the clumsy oaf!’

  ‘I will!’ she called as she ran into the house.

  ‘I thought you told me you had a little sister.’ Richard said thoughtfully as he watched her vanish through the french windows.

  ‘She is my little sister.’ Charles said and laughed coarsely. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you she’s only four years younger than me!’

  Kitty flew up the stairs into her bedroom. She carefully donned a bonnet, to match the green ribbons adorning her lemon muslin morning dress and a Spencer in dark brown velvet. She looked critically at her reflection in the mirror as she carefully buttoned up the short jacket hugging her bosom, making sure the upright collar wasn’t flopping down as she did up the last button against the hollow of her throat. As she carefully pulled on some kid gloves, she looked out of the window at her brother and his friend on the terrace. He looked handsome.She thought as she picked up the brown velvet reticule, the damaged gown and dashed out of the door again, running right through the family suites to her Aunt Agatha’s suite.

  Both men were relaxing in the bright English sun. Havers had arrived with the obligatory brandy and they sat in companionable silence.

  ‘How’s your leg?’ Richard asked softly as a bee buzzed around the decanter on the table.

  ‘Getting better.’ Charles replied in the same lazy way. ‘It doesn’t hurt all the time any more. How’s your back?’ Richard shrugged and it was quiet again. Both men were oblivious to the drone of London, having lived with an army of thousands they were used to the noise of population.

  ‘How many times have you woken up in the garden in the morning?’ Richard asked suddenly and shivered.

  ‘I haven’t yet. But then I tend to fall asleep in front of the fire in the drawing room.’ He looked at Richard. ‘Have you?’

  Richard nodded. ‘I damn nearly killed my valet the first morning back.' He whispered. ‘The stupid bastard shook my shoulder when I told him not to, even if I was screaming.’