The Madam Duchess
Page 3
“So you controlled the situation, and I just happened to fall in line with your plans.”
“Yes. You reacted to my touches as I’d dreamed. You are a perfect match for me, though I wasn’t expecting James to seduce you and compete for your affections,” Stefan said with a raised brow.
James met his look with and insolent grin. “You never said she was off limits, my friend. How could I not want a piece of such a tasty morsel?”
“And do you still want her?” Stefan asked, a dangerous glint in his eye.
“Until the next piece comes along. No offense, love,” James said to Alexandra. “The grass is always greener.”
But Alex wasn’t looking at James. She watched Stefan as he moved into the light. His presence was captivating, his height and muscular bulk dominating. How anyone could prefer James after seeing them side by side was beyond her.
“I’m not asking you to choose between us. You could have us both,” Stefan said softly. His eyes were fierce with desire, his body taught and his sex rigid beneath his trousers. Alex looked at James and he slowly stood, his body equally taught, his thick cock also erect.
God, to have them both.
It wasn’t an experience she wished to turn down, even though part of her wanted to be alone with Stefan. She wasn’t going to throw this gift away.
Alex went to stand in front of the fire. She dropped her skirt and drawers once again to their place on the floor and pulled the pins from her hair. She unfastened her bodice and let the short sleeves slip from her shoulders. Her breathing was rapid and her breasts were heaving, waiting for release from the tight restraints of her corset.
Both men were focused on her. She felt the power of having two such divine specimens want her. She was still wearing her shoes, stockings and corset. The dark curls that covered her mound were visible and she could feel her desire drip down the side of her leg—partly because James had primed her and partly in anticipation of what was to come.
“Am I the only one who is to shed my clothes? Both of you look a bit. . .restrained in certain areas,” she said, casting a deliberate glance at both of their pricks.
James took no further prodding. He stripped the clothes from his body and piled them on the floor. He stood naked, proud and erect, and he took his shaft in his had and stroked himself until Alex could see a pearly drop of come at the tip of his penis.
“And what of you, Stefan? Have you changed your mind?”
“No,” he said hesitantly. “But there are things we must speak of when we are finished. Things that must be said in private. Would you agree?”
“Yes, but talking is for later. Much later,” Alex said.
Stefan nodded his head and moved to take his clothes off. He was slower about it, savoring the feel as his clothes left his body and cool air touched his skin. He was seducing even as he was being seduced, and Alex’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him completely naked. It was the first time she’d seen him out of the shadows. The first time she’d gotten to look at more than just teasing glimpses of flesh. His gray eyes were direct on hers, challenging, daring her to do her best.
Alex slipped off her shoes and rolled down her stockings. She pulled on the strings of her corset and unlaced it slowly. Stefan grabbed his shaft much like James had done, but Alex could tell their intents were quite different. James’ goal was to please himself, his eyes were closed and he continued to work his shaft. But Stefan only wished to please her. His gaze was direct and they held a promise she couldn’t interpret.
When the corset fell to the floor and she was as nude as they, she knelt down on the rug in front of the fireplace and beckoned them to her. Stefan reached her first and kneeled before her, touching the side of her face with his hand.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Little One?” he asked.
Alex smiled at the use of his pet name for her and kissed his fingers. She ran her tongue over the pulse point at his wrist and nipped at the skin at his shoulder with her teeth. She savored his groan as she kissed her way down his body and swirled her tongue around his nipples. She followed the light sprinkling of hair that led in a trail down his muscled abdomen.
Stefan lay back on the rug and propped himself on his elbows and Alex took full advantage of his position. His shaft was thick and long, the tip dark red and swollen with need. She positioned herself between his legs and bent forward to take him in her mouth. She pumped his cock in one hand and caressed his balls in the other. She reveled in his pleasure and the look of desire in his eyes as he leaned his head back and fought for control.
“Your mouth is a miracle, Alexandra,” he sighed in ecstasy.
Alex felt a warm breath against her bottom and left Stefan’s cock long enough to turn and look behind her. James was on his back, working his way beneath her so her pussy was positioned just above his lips. She moaned as his mouth took up where it had left off at Stefan’s interruption.
“You are so wet, Alex. Your pussy is begging for a cock,” James said.
“Yessss,” she purred.
Her moan vibrated around Stefan’s cock and he fell back to the floor, his hands fisting roughly in her thick hair. Alex lowered her cunt onto James’ face and thrusted against his writhing tongue. It was only moments until her first climax stole her breath. It took her by surprise and she screamed around the cock in her mouth.
She rested her head against Stefan’s thigh and caught her breath. He stroked her hair gently even as his penis twitched against her cheek. She felt James move out from under her and get on his knees behind her.
Stefan took her head between his hands and devoured her mouth with a scorching kiss. His tongue delved deep, massaging and sucking her tongue. He took her nipples between his fingers and squeezed.
And that’s when James plunged his thick cock into her dripping pussy.
“Mmmmm, harder,” she begged.
His prick wasn’t as thick as Stefan’s, but it was still a tight fit. The friction between his cock and her inner walls was driving her to distraction. She felt another climax approaching, but just as she felt the tugs of her imminent release in the pit of her stomach, James pulled out.
Alex groaned in protest at his departure, and James laughed arrogantly. Stefan was still caressing her, kissing her, loving her. The dual assaults on her body were almost too much to take.
“Don’t tease me,” she demanded,
James rubbed his cock along her slit, taunting her, spreading her moisture to the puckered star of her anus. He slid a finger in, then two, preparing her to accept his cock. He pushed his prick against her opening and she took a slow, steady breath as his size penetrated her small channel. She felt the mushroom head pop in and she gasped a quick breath. Stefan reached below her and flicked her clit with his fingers, and that was all it took to forget about the discomfort in her backside. She pushed back against James, her anus opening wider as he pushed his length into her.
“God, you are so tight, Alex,” James whispered as he hunched over her. “I bet you could take another cock in your pussy, though, couldn’t you?”
“Yes, oh, yes,” she cried, delirious in her pleasure.
Stefan scooted beneath her, still kissing her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her lips. James stopped his thrusting so Stefan could get in position. Alex lifted herself, pulling away from James so just the tip of his cock remained in her ass and positioned herself over Stefan’s straining cock.
“We’re going to fill you up, Alexandra,” Stefan said.
“Yes, please,” she answered. She sank onto his cock slowly—Anticipating—Savoring. She leaned forward slowly and looked into the face that she was finally able see. The gray eyes were the same, desire-filled. The lips were full and sensuous, made for kissing and other carnal pleasures. He was beautiful. And he was hers.
She leaned downed to take his mouth in a soft kiss, but James would not be ignored and thrust his rod back into her ass until his balls slapped against her. The tender moment was gone
and the scent of lust permeated the air. They pistoned in and out of her and the sensations in her private places were pulsing like never before. She was full and hot, her breasts were heavy and her clit throbbed in time with their thrusts. They were writhing together in tandem, a seperate units that somehow made a whole.
“I’m going to fill your ass with my spunk, Alex,” James panted.
“Yes, do it. I want to feel your seed.” She opened her eyes and looked at Stefan and her cunt automatically clutched around his cock. “And you, Stefan? Are you going to shoot your seed into my womb?”
The words acted as a seduction and he gritted his teeth to hold back. He opened his mouth over her stiff nipple and sucked hard, and at the same time he moved his hand between their bodies so his fingers slipped over her clit ever time James slammed into her ass.
They were a mass of moans and grunts, screams and pleas, as they neared completion. And with a final thrust behind her, James was the first to go. She felt the liquid heat of his semen shoot into her ass, and the sensation set off her own climax. Stefan followed closely behind as her pulsing ass and pussy doubly assaulted his cock. He yelled out his climax and pushed himself as far into her as he could thrust as jets of come shot from his body.
They fell to a sweaty heap on the floor, breaths heaving and passions cooling. Alex felt the cocks inside her soften and she felt their fluids run down her legs. She wasn’t sure if she passed out of fell asleep, but she woke when James shifted off of her onto the floor.
“My, God. I thought I’d died,” he said with a laugh.
“I’m not sure you’re entirely mistaken, my friend,” Stefan said. He rubbed his hand down the length of her back and Alex nearly purred at his touch. How could she want him again so soon?
As if James sensed their need to be alone he stood and dressed. “It’s been fun, kids, but I think I’m going to have to leave you two lovebirds and head back to London. I hear Lady Apperly is in need of a new solicitor,” he said with a jaunty lift of his eyebrows. “And I live to service my clients.”
Alex and Stefan listened as the front door closed behind him.
“If you want him, I’ll step aside,” Stefan said softly.
Alex looked into his soulful gray eyes and wondered how he could ever think that she’d prefer James after all they’d been through together.
“No, Stefan. My dark angel,” she said, tracing his lips with her tongue and finally taking his mouth fully. She sucked on his tongue and the kiss turned hot. She felt his cock stiffening once again inside of her. But this kiss was different. It was sweet, caring, giving, taking. “You are the only man I have ever wanted with my whole heart. I will not have another ever again.”
“It is the rare occasion that a woman gets the opportunity to become a duchess twice,” he said rolling her beneath him. He moved in and out of her slowly, loving her as if it were the first time.
“If that is a proposal then I accept,” she said breathlessly.
“And if the occasion arises that you would like to throw one of your famous soirees, the only stipulation I have is that you meet your lover in the moonlight under the stars. I’ve heard that your gazebo is a lovely place for a midnight tryst.”
She let out a laugh that quickly turned into a moan as his shaft hit a special place inside of her. “I promise to make love to you at every opportunity. I believe we’re going to be much too exhausted to participate in many other physical activities.”
He trapped her arms above her head and rode her hard until she cried out beneath him. His release followed quickly. “I think you might be right, Little One,” he panted.
And he was.
Here’s an excerpt of WHO’S RIDING RED? A new erotic fairy tale by Liliana Hart.
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Chapter One:
Where Sorrow Seems To Follow Our Heroine
In The Year of Our Lord, 1492, influenza swept through England like a violent storm. The sobs of the dying echoed through the ravaged streets and the tears of loved ones disappeared in the rain-drenched filth of the alleyways. The village of Hampstead was no exception to such devastation. Even King Henry had escaped to the country for clean air.
For Phillipa Redmond, death had become all too familiar. It had haunted her for the past year, taking her parents within a week of each other. Then her five siblings—one after the next. She’d shed the last of her tears when her youngest brother, Peter, had finally succumbed to the terrible sickness. Peter’s body was still upstairs, covered in the white linen sheet she’d pulled over him, and locked behind his bedroom door—as if that would keep the sickness from permeating the rest of the house. But one had to follow the law in times like these.
The meat wagon hadn’t been around to collect Peter’s body, even though she’d sent word two days before. She’d received a missive back that the dead by far outnumbered those who were working to bury them properly. Peter would have to wait.
Phillipa cast one last glance at her home, memorizing the way the stair banister curved in a smooth arc of mahogany and the way her mother’s prized vase from France sat in a position of importance in the entryway, the flowers long since wilted. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back rapidly. She could no longer afford the indulgence of tears. She had to think. And think quickly. The orders to evacuate had already been given. She had a grandmother in Scotland, though she’d only met her once when she was quite young. There was really no choice in the matter. Her grandmother was her only hope.
She took a deep breath and wrapped her dark red cloak around her tightly, lifting the hood so it covered her head. The cloak was lined with white rabbit fur, and the fabric was a wool so smooth and unblemished it felt almost like skin. It had been a gift from her parents for her eighteenth birthday, the last birthday she’d gotten to share with them.
The echo of footsteps shuffling from the village streets below her family estate could be heard through the thick English oak of her front door. The survivors were already fleeing Hampstead.
She said a quick prayer for courage and walked out of her home, down the tree-lined dirt road, and into the streets of Hampstead with the others. The crowd was bedraggled and unkempt—men, women and children she’d never seen before without so much as a hair out of place. No one spoke. Everyone’s eyes were cast downward, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
Phillipa glanced one last time at the home she’d grown up in. There was a red slash of paint across her front doorway that could be seen even from a great distance, signifying to all who walked by that the house was contaminated. She’d see that slash of red in her dreams for eternity.
She looked at the cottages of her father’s charges as they continued to shuffle to the outskirts of the village. The wind had turned chilly and a light drizzle fell and clung to her lashes, so she pulled her cloak tighter. The doors of the cottages held similar red marks. It had been so long since she’d left her home she hadn’t realized the extent of the devastation that had wreaked havoc through her village over the past weeks.
The palace had sent knights to all the villages to make sure the laws were followed. They sat rigidly atop their horses, their heads uncovered and water dripping from the steel plates of their armor, as they herded the survivors out of Hampstead. No one was allowed to bring any possessions—no animals or food, no carriages or clothing—only what they could carry as they fled for their lives. Phillipa had a small, painted likeness of her family, dried fruit, a thin volume of poems, a few coins, and a hair ribbon tucked away in a pocket that had been sewn inside her cloak.
They made it to the outskirts of the village just as dusk was setting in. Small groups of people set up camps under a thick copse of trees, shielding themselves from the wind and rain. Leaves were gathered for beds and animals were hunted for food.
Phillipa stood in shock, alone and separated from the others. She was eighteen years old and had never stepped outside without her maid or a proper escort. But now
she had no one. There wasn’t anyone to bring her food or lay out her clothes. No one to dress her hair.
Screams shook her from her stupor. Her reactions were slow; her senses weighed down so everything seemed as if it were in slow motion. She didn’t realize what the orange glow was until the others started weeping and pointing. Hampstead was burning. The knights had set fire to all the homes and bodies that carried the disease. And now she didn’t have anywhere to call home.
Black smoke filled the sky as the sun finally set behind the trees. The soldiers kept anyone who dared from trying to return to town, herding them further into the forest like chattel. No one spoke, though weeping could still be heard. Small fires were made and the smell of roasting meat couldn’t drown out the stench of the thick smoke that filled the sky.
Phillipa made her way to a large tree and sat at its base, huddling into her cloak as the wind picked up. Howls rent the air and she tried to keep from jumping with fright. The people around her began to whisper, and her teeth started to chatter as Sir Harry Waldrop—an acquaintance of her father’s—began to tell the stories she’d never believed as a child. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
“It’s said the woods are filled with savage beasts,” Sir Harry began. The crowd moved closer to him and he lowered his voice further. “Those who have seen them say they’ve been cursed by the devil himself. They can walk as humans in the day, but when the night falls, their skin rips and their bones break until they stand in the form of a wolf. Their teeth are sharp and as long as sabers, and their claws can slice a man in two.”
Women in the group gasped, while the few children who remained tried to hide their faces. Phillipa herself was scooting farther away from the group, shaking her head in denial at Sir Harry’s words.