Read Her Mystery Duke Online

Authors: Natasha Blackthorne

Tags: #Romance

Her Mystery Duke (10 page)

A thrill passed through her and she shook her head.

“It’s highly overrated.” He reached behind her and tugged on
the bounds. “Go kneel on your bed for me.”

She pulled her arms and found herself freed.

He applied a slap to her buttock. “Go on now.”

She hurried to comply then glanced over her shoulder. He was
directly behind her, standing on the floor. He put his hand on her head and
pressed gently. A smile spread over her face as she pressed her head down to
the mattress.

“Hold just like that.”

A familiar soft scrape sounded, the drawers to her little
dresser being opened. She glanced over her shoulder. He was rifling her things.
“What are you doing?”

“I told you not to move.”

“Oh, of course, my lord,” she said in a wry tone.

“Where are your stockings kept?”

“In the third drawer, second down. Whyever do you need my
stockings?”

He didn’t answer; instead, he withdrew two of her old plain
cotton stockings. She cringed inside. Goodness, they were certainly clean and
well mended; however, she hadn’t realized how dingy their color had become. He
turned and she put her head down very quickly.

Why? Why had she felt that little frisson of fear? Fear that
he might catch her disobeying his silly order to be still? It didn’t make
sense, but she had been afraid and it had the most interesting effect upon her.
Her arousal hitched several degrees. Waiting and wondering what he would do now
was also the most enjoyable anticipation.

“Give me your hand.”

“What?” She needed her hands to balance in this rather
vulnerable position.

“Just give it to me.” He reached and took her hand.

Bemused, and not just a little curious, she allowed him to
draw her hand down. He nudged his knee against her leg. “Bend a little deeper
here, sweeting.”

With her face and one shoulder bearing into the mattress,
she tried to do what he wanted.

The softness of the cotton stocking caressed her ankles. He
was tying them together.

He pulled her hand behind her back. What the devil? Did he
intend to render her completely immobile? How was she supposed to balance
herself?

“David?” She heard the uncertainty in her voice.

“Yes, sweeting?”

“What are you doing?”

“Shh.” He took her other hand.

She resisted. It was hard, being off balance as she was.

“What’s the matter, Jeannie?”

“Please, I asked you not to call me that.”

“Of course, Jeanne. Now tell me: what’s the matter?”

“I don’t think I like this.”

“Well, I am not done yet.”

Ha! How logical he made that answer sound. “I am really
feeling a little uneasy. I am quite off balance here.”

“That is what will make it all so much more enjoyable.” He bent
and placed a kiss on her nape. A shiver raced down her spine. “Now please,
Jeanne, be a little more agreeable.”

With his tongue, he traced a sinful, seductive path from her
nape to her ear. Wet warmth flicked her lobe. A thrill shot straight from there
to her nipples and into her belly. How had he done that? She went weak all
over. Her arm went slack.

He pulled her other hand behind her back. In quick order, he
had secured her wrists together.

Her face was all but mashed into the featherbed and her weight
pressed her shoulders and breasts flatter. Yet her arse was perched into the
air. Not the most flattering presentation.

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. She 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.”

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