One Night with a Duke

by Sandra Masters

  Samantha didn’t know how to survive this marvelous uproar of pleasure. What he did to her and her reaction to what he did, she knew to be sinful, wicked and so decadent. His growls pierced her ears, and she reached to take him her prisoner—no holds barred. She wanted him to remember her like this with his strong cock deep into her slick channel.

  Samantha might have floated in the sky and soared like a falcon, dreamlike, entranced. Her arms became feathered, and in this powerful moment, she knew how much he meant to her. She pleaded in a strange voice that was unfamiliar, “More. More. Oh, Yes, more.”

  The wings sought out the sky, extended, glided on currents of air, ever closer to the satisfaction of the elusive enchantment she sought. It inched up on her, thrill by thrill, throb by throb, blessed inch by wondrous inch, and each ripple of the orgasm left her more breathless than the one before. It engulfed her and permeated every pore of her body. Samantha couldn’t find words to describe her release. Her hands against him echoed his palpitating heart. Her eyes became fuzzy. She tore down every wall of hers, and she welcomed him into her special orbit.

  “Oh, to be loved like this,” she muttered. Samantha wanted—needed to treasure every moment. Satisfaction filled her as she became sated by all of him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Raven growled as she screamed his name over and over again and considered it a benediction. Then and there, he knew there would never be any other woman for him. Her every reaction became an aphrodisiac. He prepared to ascend into sublime bliss, plunged his manhood into her again and again, and before he could exercise any control, released his seed. Each thrust seemed to reward them with multiple orgasms. His voice roared in strong satisfaction, desperate to breathe in gulps of air.

  She was velvet.

  He was iron.

  The look of passion on her sweet face pleasured him. This experience didn’t disappoint. Not what he expected, and perhaps too much more. Raven felt her muscle tighten around him and contract, tighten, and then bind him yet again. She coiled around his shaft. Paradise attained.

  He didn’t want the moment to end. What man would?

  After a few long moments, he rolled off her and brought her close to him, their bodies naked and moist from their lovemaking. “I hope I wasn’t too heavy. Admittedly, I dealt with a few unexpected issues.” He kissed her forehead and fondled her silken hair.

  Raven gazed at her face when she leaned back in repose, skin kissed by the moonlight, her lips rose-colored and lust-swollen. Her hair now pooled into strands of red curls wound in laziness and reminded him of a burning forest fire as it crested. The flames of the fireplace’s glowing embers cast a color spell of reds, orange and yellow on her tresses, radiating and beckoning his fingers to romp through. He knew the touch of it would feel like silken threads.

  Fascinated, he stared as her finger teased a wayward tendril away.

  “Ah.” He inhaled the sweet scent of her. She took on the appearance of a goddess glowing with sensuality—and attainment…a woman who enjoyed her first tumbling. The sound of her quickening breath endeared him. He engaged those languorous jeweled eyes. This ability of hers to make love to him with hers amazed him. It was incredibly tantalizing to be able to speak without words. She gave a new definition to the word—sensuality incarnate. Like a dream weaver, he was captured by her spell. He thought her good at it—too good. He noticed the flecks of amber in her irises. Continuing his gaze, he exhaled, but those orbs still invited him to explore their depth. They offered much, and promised more. It touched him as never before.

  To him, she represented a total siren—utterly female—who exuded an undeniable invitation to explore the depths of their mutual carnal desires. And carnal it was. Very carnal.

  He took her hand, kissed her fingertips, and his tongue found its journey to oblivion as he skimmed her palm, not to entice, but to welcome her into his new world—a warm longed-for awakening. Yes, his arousal was prominent, again. Every base urge prodded him to devour her lips, succulent breasts, and navel—pausing for a moment, his tongue laving and heightening the desire for him to enter her once more. If the sensation was indeed base, he held no guilt. He had denied himself too long. Of course, he would see she peaked before he released his seed once more. His every thought was for her enjoyment of this new awakening. For it was more than that; it was a metamorphosis into the seductive arts of love with him as her guide.

  Raven moved back up her body, so his lips sought hers—swollen with lust.

  Samantha opened her mouth in urgent acceptance. Her needy body melded to his in exquisite cycles of plunging and withdrawing. Torture sought release. Her body thrummed, her senses assailed, at his taste, his touch, and his taunting tease. How much more could she endure without further satisfaction? Then blessedly, his cock was again positioned at her entrance.

  “Gaze at us together in lustful wants and need. See what lovers do,” Raven said.

  She wasn’t sure she’d heard. Just before his entry, without real intent, she moved her hands lower and skimmed her fingers over his ballocks. His surprise startled her when his voice roared. There was an insistent ache between her legs, and an overwhelming need for relief. His firm shaft was the instrument that would satisfy. Her gaze wandered to the shiny bead of his seed before his penis entered her.

  “Now. Now, I beg of you.” Then a remarkable thing happened again. “Ahh,” she purred.

  She searched his glazed eyes and at that moment, he released his manhood into her moist folds, and she murmured, “Yes.”

  “Yes,” he thundered. “Oh, yes.”

  Glorious, momentous, gratification satiated. Samantha glided through the imaginary clouds, an ethereal being, flying toward the moonbeam lights, fairy-like. She drifted back into reality, and it appeared the room dimmed. She extended her hand in gentle languor, and savored the pleasant effect, wanting to say so much, yet the glowing aftermath remained. She gazed and watched his expressions. So this is what married life could be about and what had been denied her?

  The welcoming euphoria lingered like an old friend. Raven’s unusual lips always appealed to her because of their beauty. Delineated and with temptation, they invited inspection and perhaps a kiss or two or three. She could write a sonnet about his lips, and it still would not be representative of their handsomeness.

  Her eyes became drawn to a birthmark on his upper right thigh. Samantha traced the ragged edges with her finger. “It looks almost like a disjointed heart.”

  “All Ravensmere males are born with it. We prefer to call it our signature birthmark and believe that the male genes cause it. Once in a while, it transmutes to a female.”

  “I find that a fascination, and quite beautiful.” She removed her hand and smiled up at him. Before she could think, Samantha kissed him in sweet lingering passion.

  Raven smiled at her. “In a few minutes, as I recover, I expect you to explain how you are a virgin widow. To accept a former married woman’s invitation to be bedded is not uncommon. It’s quite another to discover that the woman is a virgin. A truly noble gentlman would never deflower a maiden.” A part of him anguished at the deed done and he traced her puffy lips with the pad of his fingers. So incredibly beautiful and sensual. Tingling bolts of desire invaded and tempted once more. Easy, old chap. Take time to absorb all of this and recover.

  He removed his body from her side, walked to the wash-basin, immersed the cloth, cleansed himself with meticulous care, and returned with clean wet linen to wipe her down with much tenderness.

  “Oh, the cloth is cold,” she shivered.

  He showed her the evidence of blood.

  “I was the first,” he said with pride that she knew no other man in the biblical sense. But there was also shame.

  Raven tried to absorb the incontrovertible evidence. “Virgin blood,” he said, and he covered her with the immensity of the comforter, reached for his breeches, and donned them. Had this just happened to him?

  “You have indeed given me a
rare gift, Samantha. This act deserves a strong libation for it does not sit well.” He sauntered to the table. “Wine or Madeira?” All the while he stared at her and shook his head in disbelief.

  “Do you have a brandy?” she asked.

  He poured and handed her the glass, motioned, and said, “You may start your story now. I’m anxious to hear this.”

  Raven lay on top of the comforter, his left elbow on the bed and listened with intent as she spoke.

  How in everything that was holy and noble had he committed such a sin? The devil’s torment, and if it was truly wrong, why was it so pleasurable and feel so right?

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Samantha started her sad story. “After our marriage, we retired to our chambers, and I waited for my husband. He knocked on my door and I was happy to see him. He asked me to sit and hear him out. He went on to inform me that he was impotent, could never father children and that I was free, with his blessing, to have another sire them, and he would recognize the offspring. She sipped the brandy for the courage to continue. “He apologized, and left the room.” Tears glistened in her eyes. Samantha gazed at Raven her hands choking the brandy glass.

  “The unbelievable scoundrel treated you with callousness.”

  “Nightmares still haunt me of that moment. How could he do such a cruel thing?” Samantha pulled Raven down to her, “What could I do?” Her forehead frowned as she spoke of the polite society that would rip her to shreds. She and her family’s name would suffer.

  “So I said nothing and crawled back to my virginal bed. “He shut me out of his life.” She gasped and spoke in a rapid voice. “I was in such a state of disbelief I couldn’t function. I didn’t know what to do, who to tell, or what to say. Then, a few weeks later I found myself an unconsummated widow.”

  Raven reached for her, took her glass and placed it on the bedside table. He held her close to his chest, her head beneath his chin.

  “If you knew ahead of time, would you have married him?” Raven pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

  “I don’t think so, for I wanted children. Now that I do know something about the union between a man and a woman, I couldn’t have been faithful to him for long. I could never cuckold my husband. Marriage is a sacred union sanctioned by God. He made it a sham.” Her voice reduced to a soft whisper until she held his gaze and said, “I trusted him. I trusted him to be true. He lied to me. That’s why trust in our relationship, yours and mine, takes prominence. That’s why I didn’t ask for a commitment from you.”

  “So you gave away the country estate and converted the townhouse to a school?” He fingered the silk coverlet’s corded design.

  “I wanted nothing to remind me of him. Consumed with anger and resentment to forgive and forget in totality, I recognized this is what men can do to women. We are helpless and dependent upon them, and I vowed not to let it happen again. As time passed, reconciliation became obvious, but no one attracted my attention. There were a few offers for my hand, but I refused them and wanted to scare men away.”

  He held her hand with a gentle touch.

  “This was the reason why I became so disrespectful of you. You attracted me, and it frightened me to my core. I didn’t want to be hurt again by a man. I didn’t need them.” Samantha yielded her eyes to him and extended him a sly grin. “Then you showed me differently, Raven.”

  As sanity started its wayward return, somewhat mortified now, she searched his steel gray eyes for something other than regret. “I don’t like what I see on your face. You pity me. I’m not such an object.”

  ****

  Raven spoke in a soft voice, “Don’t read anything into this. It was unexpected. You’ve lived with this sadness for over three years, and I’m now to deal with it for the last hour or so.” He stroked her cheeks with his fingers and lovingly traced her nose and lips. He lifted one hand and set his forefinger beneath her chin. “It would appear, Samantha, we both had honor as well as courage, but you were the one with the virtue. I’m not content with my actions.” His hand went to his head as if to soothe an ache away as he was wont to do.

  “Are you annoyed with me?” she asked through teary eyes.

  “No, I’m not. It’s too late for such recriminations. I wish you would have told me though and not let me presume your experience as a widow. I was a man of honor, yet my anger is with the audacity of the scoundrel you married. Your courage makes me ashamed.”

  He moved away from her. “Samantha, I do understand what you went through, and I’m in awe of you. You could have cringed in pity and denial. Instead, you chose to take the high road, deny yourself intimacies, and founded your charity. You’re a monumental woman.” Raven turned toward her. “So no one knew about this except you?”

  “I told Aunt Minerva two weeks ago, but I didn’t dwell on the circumstance. Raven, I didn’t want to die a spinster, to never have sampled the fruits of love and passion. So I vowed if I could find a man of interest to me, I would make sure of his potency and gift him with my virginity.” She looked up at him with a coquettish glance. “I chose you.”

  He moved to her side again.

  Samantha buried her head against his dark, damp chest. The sensitive hairs sent out electric shocks. “Of all the men I knew, and none like this, I thought you could scale my walls, appreciate my intellect and unfreeze my arctic heart.”

  Raven smiled at her. “Did I pass muster?” he jested.

  “Oh, yes, Raven. You did. And then some.”

  His heart was torn asunder by her tragic tale.

  Samantha spoke warily, “I’m not an experienced lover. How could I be? I want to be one for you.” Her inner thoughts couldn’t find the words. He might be the man she could now love. If she was with him, nothing else mattered. She wanted to be significant in his life, this she knew without a doubt.

  “Did your Aunt Minerva know of your present for me?” He engaged her eyes and gifted her with a small grin that curled his upper lip.

  “No, she knows about the book. You should read my note. The words are for you alone.”

  “I will, but right now, I want to hold you, protect you and keep you safe.” Her vulnerability reached out to him—and this incredible desire overtook him to protect her from all possible harm—to become her shining knight.

  Raven, wracked with guilt, couldn’t understand how he could have been so unaware. He blamed himself more than he blamed her. In actuality, the blame was shared between them.

  “Is what we just did lust or passion?” Samantha asked.

  “Perhaps it’s both. Sometimes they are evil twins. Although I do believe lust is lascivious and passion is not.”

  “Is that all there is to this intimate act of bed sport?” Samantha asked.

  He laughed, shook his head, and pushed her away for a moment, somewhat incredulous. “Do you feel it was insufficient?” He arched his brow.

  She smiled up at him. “No. It personified perfection, ever much so. Perhaps it was even glorious. I have heard such tales about the dreaded wedding night, about the act, and a lot of the matriarchs say a wife should acquiesce and get it over with. Those were the exact words used.”

  He liked the way she blushed. “I didn’t want to stop. Everything was enjoyable. If there is more to learn, will you educate me in these ways?”

  In a moment of swift jealousy, he wondered why she wanted to learn more. Could it be to pleasure him, or someone else? He didn’t anticipate this turn of events. Raven didn’t want to believe he could have been so gullible—and so gratified.

  Eyelids lowered, she asked, “Did I satisfy you?”

  “Much more than you know, my dear, for passion suits you well. You could make any man lose his senses. In truth, you made me lose mine. Samantha you’ve gifted me with something a woman can give once in a lifetime to one man. I’m honored I am that man. I just wish I would have known. There should have been a choice, and grant you, I might have committed the same act, but it would have been honorable.”

&
nbsp; “He kissed the top of her head, “You do know that there could be consequences from this bed sport, don’t you?”

  Angelic eyes looked up into his, “Do you mean children?”

  “Yes. Consequence is a delicate way to phrase it.” This aspect killed him.

  “While the most wonderful experience of my life, it hurt some, but after that, it felt like a reward, would you agree?” She paused then added in a soft voice, “Then we shall have to deal with consequences when we cross that bridge.”

  “No, we will deal with this now.” He became adamant. “No child of mine will be born a bastard as the result of a by-blow.”

  His words shocked her. “Is it your declaration that you would marry a woman you didn’t love if you were sure she carried your child?”

  “I state, without equivocation, no child of mine will suffer because of my ignoble actions. I’d marry a she-devil to legitimize my heir.”

  The ferocity of his words sobered her. She would never forget them. All of this was new to her. Passion requited. Fear of what she did. Regrets? No, never could there be regrets of this one night with him, but couldn’t he say he loved her just a tiny bit? No, that would signify nothing between them was done in tiny bits.

  “Raven, you may not have a choice in this. Please don’t adopt a superior tone with me. Has no one told you that you could get more with honey than vinegar? I need time to adjust to my non-virginal condition. I’m now a true woman. Thank you.” It amazed her at the wonder of it all. “You’ve changed my life. I can never be the same again, and will treasure this one night always.” Fear raised its claw. “No more talk. It’s so little to ask of you.”

  “On the contrary, you ask much of me, Samantha. Would I have known ahead of time you still possessed your virginity, there is nothing in this world that would have made me succumb to your significant charms. You deceived me with intent to do so. Damnation.”