“Duke Sutherland has a reputation, however,” Anna’s mother warned.
“I expect he is a passionate man,” Annabelle said.
“There is more to marriage than passion, my dear daughter.”
“I will speak with them both. Get better acquainted.”
*****
Duke Sutherland was not hard to find. He was in a drawing room off of the ballroom, surrounded by a group of laughing men, telling one of the wild stories for which he was well known. Annabelle pretended to be searching for someone. It would not have been proper to approach the Duke so directly. When the Duke saw Annabelle, he cut the story short and left the men calling for the ending. “Another time perhaps.”
Bertram led Annabelle down the hallway. Anna was sure no one had seen them, it would be quite the scandal.
“Blackburn proposed to you, did he not?”
“He did.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him that I wanted to get to know you both better before I decided,” Annabelle said.
“A fair deal,” the Duke said with a node of his head. “Perhaps we could talk somewhere upstairs. We are unlikely to be bothered there.”
Annabelle tried to hide a smile, but she couldn’t keep one corner of her mouth from rising. She felt butterflies in her stomach, excited by the impropriety of being alone with a gentleman. It was forbidden, and that made her legs shake and her loins tingle. “Perhaps that is best.”
They walked quickly up a nearby staircase, and though they were both unfamiliar with the home, the first door they tried in a long hall opened into a bedroom. It wasn’t the master bedroom, it was smaller, for guests perhaps, with a small bed adorned with pillows, and a small writing desk along one wall.
“This will do for a chat,” Bertram said, and Annabelle shook her head. Something was taking a hold of her, a passion she felt growing in her loins, a warmness that reminded her of a fever in a way.
“I don’t think you really wished to speak, did you?” she said, stepping forward so his body was close to hers.
“Right you are,” the man said in a hushed whisper, and then his mouth was on hers for the second time that night. He was hungry, passionate, and their kiss was deep and long. He put his hands on her waist, lifted her into the air, and spun. He carried her to the bed, and then dropped her upon it. The young woman laughed as she bounced a few times on the soft mattress, no doubt expensive and filled with down.
Her laugh died in Bertram’s mouth as he lay down upon her and kissed her once more.
His hands were on her again, but not on her hips. He moved them up, across the front of her gown. The tops of her breasts were heaving above the scooped neckline and his lips tore from hers and went there, planting a wet trail along the top of each breast to the other and then back again.
She wondered if he would stop and ask her before disrobing her, but he didn’t. He wasn’t that type of man. His hands were at her breasts, replacing his lips, and fingers hooked into that plunging neckline, and he pulled the material down, tight as it was. Her breasts spilled forth, still held up by the half cups of her corset. Her nipples hardened in the cool night air, coming in through an open window, dark red, the color of good wine. He groped at one breast with one hand, using his other to hold him up over her. His hips dipped through, and he kept grinding back and forth upon her, his hard manhood pressing against her pelvis between her legs. It felt like heaven even though it had to get through both his pants and the material of her gown’s skirt.
Bertram squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and the young woman groaned. Her other nipple remained free for only a moment longer, and then the young Duke lowered his head and ran the tip of his tongue over the sensitive bump.
There was a fire burning in her loins, and Anna closed her eyes as the man took his hand from her breast, though his lips and tongue remained on the other. His newly free hand went down between their bodies, grinding and rocking still against one another. He gripped her long skirt in one hand, and tugged it upwards. She lifted her hips so he could push the material up and over her rear, and then with one quick motion he took a hold of her small clothes and pulled them off, ripping them in the process. She squealed and he dropped the material over the side of the bed.
“Touch me,” Annabelle whispered in the darkness, the only light was blue, from a full moon and streaming in through that open window.
The Duke didn’t speak, but he complied, his lips still locked around one nipple. He ran the pad of his index finger up the wet pink lips between the young woman’s legs. He didn’t penetrate her, he just ran it up and then down her slit. Annabelle groaned, and she widened her legs, and when he looked up, tearing his mouth away from her breast she was looking at him, her eyes begging him to make love to her.
“Do it,” she said in a breathless voice. “Do it.”
He would oblige the young woman. He rocked back away from her, standing at the edge of the bed. She watched him, her eyes going from his face to his trousers as he undid them lowered them to his ankles. His cock was pulsing before him, red and big and yearning for her tight womanhood.
Bertram used his hands to push Anna’s knees further apart, and then he was back on the bed, kneeling before her. Annabelle lifted herself up onto her elbows so she could look down and see herself. Her womanly lips were slick with her own juices, just below a curly tuft of pubic hair.
Bertram touched her there once more, using his fingers to spread her lips wide as his other hand guided his penis towards her. The swollen head of his cock pushed against her, moving up and down her slick lips. And then he was going inside her, and it was all the young woman could do not to yell out in pleasure.
“I’ve never felt tighter,” Bertram gasped as he pushed further into her, the head of his cock disappearing completely, and then his shaft sliding in. He fell forward, on top of her, his hands holding himself up, and their lips were clashing sloppily together, their passion overtaking them.
Anna ran her hands along the man’s back, pulling his shirt up so her nails could drag across his muscular back. His cock was sliding in and out of her in a furious pace. There was love making, and there was something else, and what she and the Duke were doing was decidedly something else.
One hand continued to hold himself up, and the other groped at her breasts, even as their tongues danced together.
“Oh, God,” Annabelle groaned into the man’s mouth. Something she had not felt before was growing in her loins, deep within her. It was a feeling that she could hardly bear, it felt so good. It was a growing sensation, hot between her thighs, in the pit of her stomach. An orgasm rocked her body, and then she was crying out, so loudly that the Duke laughed and covered her mouth with his hand, so no one would think a woman was being attacked and come searching upstairs.
Her body quaked, and spasms tore through her inner walls, the sensation on Bertram’s cock as her vagina squeezed him unlike anything he had felt with any other woman. It was almost too much, but he didn’t want the feeling to end, he wasn’t ready to finish, so he fought off his own orgasm.
He kissed her once more, and then he pulled out of her and the girl let a look of worry flash across her face. “Is that all? Did I do something wrong?”
Bertram grinned and shook his head.
“No my love, nothing wrong at all.”
And then his strong hands were on her waist, and he was moving her, rolling her over. He tugged on her waist so she went onto her hands and knees, and he positioned himself behind her, and once more he was sliding inside of her tight, wet pussy.
His rough hands were on the cheeks of her rear, squeezing and gripping almost painfully, but Annabelle never wanted him to stop. He pumped in and out of her at a furious pace, the sound of her rear and his pelvis making an audible slapping sound each time he pushed into her.
/>
He couldn’t hold off for long, her womanhood was too tight, the sex too good. He felt himself nearing climax, and he had the mind to pull out just as he came. The Duke gripped his own cock and jerked his hand back and forth, spraying thick strands of semen over the girl’s plump, pale ass. She lay down on her stomach as he did so, breathing heavily. Their bodies were slick with sweat, which shone in the moonlight.
“I can’t go back down there,” she said softly, and the Duke laughed as he moved to lay next to her.
“Take a moment, they’ll never know,” he said.
“You ripped my small clothes.”
“Well, don’t make love with anyone else, and they won’t know you aren’t wearing any,” he said with a wink.
“That’s what you call that? Making love?” Annabelle asked.
“What would you call it?” Bertram asked.
“Being used,” Annabelle said with a grin to the man. “But I enjoyed it.”
“Marry me my sweet lady. Marry me, and I will use you often.”
Annabelle began to laugh. “I should return.”
“Are you going to speak with Duke Blackburn?”
Annabelle nodded. “Does that bother you?”
“No. He may speak to you. With his words or with his manhood. If anything, I am confident that my cock can speak better than any man’s.”
Annabelle smiled as she stood up. She kept her skirt hiked above her hips as she bent to retrieve her torn small clothes. She wiped his semen off of her bottom with the small clothes, and then dropped them back to the floor. Certainly some servant was in for surprise on the next morrow.
“I like your confidence, Bertram,” the young girl said.
“And I like you and your body,” the Duke said, shocking Annabelle and making her blush.
They worked in silence to make themselves presentable, and then she left first to return to the party. Bertram would wait a few moments and then follow her down.
*****
Annabelle found Duke Blackburn dancing with another young woman and so she waited in his line of view until the dance had finished. She was glad when he dismissed the other woman and approached her.
“Would you care to dance?” the man asked her.
“I would rather speak with you,” Annabelle said.
“Very well. How about a stroll through the garden, if it would not make you too cold?”
“Yes,” Anna said, nodding.
The air was chill, but the Duke gave her his jacket, and it was a nice stroll. The garden on the grounds was beautiful and secluded, and they were the only ones walking in it, except for Mrs. Clack 20 paces behind them. They found a bench near a fountain and sat. Anna expected the Duke to ask her for a kiss and she was quite dismayed when he did not.
“Why do you want to marry me?” Annabelle said as they looked at one another. “I fear you do not find me beautiful.”
Duke Blackburn laughed. “Who says I don’t find you beautiful?”
“Duke Sutherland was quite forward with his compliments.”
“I want a many great things from you,” Duke Blackburn said. “You are beautiful, and I desire you greatly, but I am slightly older than Duke Sutherland, and I must confess that I’ve learned, desire often grows with love.”
“You desire me?”
“I do.”
“I’m yours, if you’ll take me.”
“And I would. But I want you on our wedding night, and not a moment before. But I will give you something of me,” he added, and they leaned together and kissed. Where Bertram was rough and passionate, Duke Blackburn was soft and tender. There was still passion there, but the kiss was electrifying in a way the other man’s wasn’t. He felt as though he was holding back, and it made Annabelle want him even more. When he broke away she leaned forward, stealing one more kiss.
“Please,” she said after planting her lips on his but then breaking it again. “I want you to want me.”
“I do,” the Duke said in a whisper. His voice brushed her ears sensually. She could feel his desire, and she put a hand on his leg, and her fingertips could sense the bulge at his crotch.
“Take me.”
“I will. If we are married.”
“You’re saving yourself for marriage?” the young woman asked.
“I am not. I am saving you for marriage,” he said.
Annabelle had never wanted anything more in her life. She desired him, wanted him to tear her clothes off, to make love to her under the moon. She knew he would make love to her. Bertram had fucked her. Duke Blackburn would not do that. His hands would be soft, electric like his kisses.
“Take me,” Annabelle said again.
“Marry me.”
Anna began to feel frustrated. She had just had a man inside her, but here she was, her loins screaming for Duke Blackburn, and he would not give in to her. It drove her wild.
“Please,” she begged.
“Marry me,” he said again.
Anna stood up and huffed. She spun on the man. “You are pig headed!” she said, suddenly angry, unable to think clearly. She wanted the man inside her so badly.
Duke Blackburn laughed, which made her even madder, and she spun and rushed for the manor.
She went upstairs, wishing to be alone, and found another room, drawing room of sorts with a balcony. She went outside and stood in the breeze. She still had Duke Blackburn’s jacket around her shoulders, and she held it around her.
“There you are,” a voice said, and she turned to see Bertram.
“I do not wish to speak,” she said.
“Things did not go well with Duke Blackburn? Then I am the winner, am I not?”
Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “No, you are not. I enjoyed what we did, and I will never regret it, as long as I live. But to you, I am just another warm woman in a cold bed, am I not? You will never stop doing what you do, and I don’t think I wish to be a wife who sits at home alone, while another woman warms you.”
“That’s not fair,” Bertram started.
“Goodnight, Duke Sutherland,” Annabelle said shortly, and the man knew not to argue. He left, and she turned to gaze out at the grounds again.
She never heard Duke Blackburn sneak up upon her, indeed didn’t know he was there until he was wrapping his arms around her from behind. He pushed against her, and she felt his penis harden against the cheeks of her ass, the cheeks which Bertram had expelled the contents of his testicles across. Knowing that she had so freshly been penetrated, and having another man harden against it, it made her slicken once more down there, and made her knees weak.
“I want you,” Duke Blackburn said against the nape of her neck, and then he was kissing her there. It made her flesh tingle, and then his hand dipped down, and he was gathering her skirt up. When he felt her, he made no mention of the fact that she wore no smallclothes. She was wet, and his fingertip found her clitoris, tucked under a fold of skin. It sent shockwaves through her system.
“I thought you did not wish to make love to me,” she groaned.
“Then you were not listening. I do, but I will not. Still, there are other things I could do,” he said. The man used his hands to turn her around, and he held her skirt out to her. She held it up and he knelt down. He lifted one leg over his shoulder, and then his lips were against the lips between her legs.
His tongue lapped along her slit, and then pushed into her. She groaned and moaned. He flicked the tip of his tongue against her clitoris, and Anna used her free hand to grip the short hair on the back of his head.
“Oh my,” she said, and it was all she could think while the man brought her to an orgasm that was more intense than the one she had had just half an hour ago. When he was done the man stood up, and helped her smooth her skirt down.
“Mar
ry me,” he said again, and she threw her arms around him and kissed him. She tasted herself, and it made her smile. Duke Blackburn was giving. He was kind, and gentle, and he had made her feel like no man ever had, or ever would.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I will, under one condition.”
“What is that?” he asked.
“Don’t stop doing that, even after we marry.”
Duke Blackburn laughed and kissed his young fiance on the cheek. “I will not,” he promised.
A Game of Love (by Sarah Thorn)
David Weatherby stood near the fence that separated the wooden stands from the dirt racing track where the horses ran. The stands were full, despite the overcast sky, thick with dark gray clouds which promised rain at any time. David stood alone, dressed smartly, a hat upon his head, the brim pulled low in an effort to hide his eyes, which were tired looking, with dark circles beneath them.
It had been some time since he had slept. He often went a day or two without rest, so caught up in his carious gambling that he couldn’t find the time to lay his head upon his pillow. The way his gambling had been going of late, he had probably already bet his pillow and lost it, so there was nothing at home for him to lay his head upon.
The horse race would be different however, he always did well at the sport. They were gathering the horses at the starting line now, and they would run once around the circuit, ending at the same line they began from.
David could see the horse he had bet on, and he had bet heavily upon it. He had a meeting to play cards later on in the evening, and it was his hope to go into the meeting with a heavy purse, full of winnings from the race. He had bet on a horse which was a long shot, but as always, David had some information the other men in the stands did not.
And there were not only men in the stands. A few women were there as well, and one came up behind David and spoke, her voice high pitched and pleasant.
“Mr. Weatherby,” she said, and David turned to see Caroline Hampton standing before him. She was dressed in a light blue dress, the skirt rustling lightly in the considerable breeze. Her hair had a reddish tint to it, and it was piled in ornate designs upon her head. Her bosom was ample, and that’s where David’s eyes travelled to first. The woman noted this, and she blushed.
Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) Page 52
