The Theft of a Dukedom Page 3
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.’