Lady Featherstone's Fervent Affair

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by Cerise DeLand


  “We shall see,” Roger said and spread one set of her folds with such delicacy she shivered. “What do you think, Geoff?”

  “Rog, I must taste her to decide.” Geoff bent as she groaned in eagerness and put his tongue to her clit. There, he titillated her with his talented tip.

  She bucked.

  “Hmm,” Roger crooned, “she is too eager, isn’t she?”

  “Aye,” Geoff concurred, “I want to lick her down but cannot do it if she jumps around.”

  “I won’t move! Come back to me!”

  “Ah, ah,” Roger warned, a slap to her tender pussy. “No demands, my sweet. We are here to serve each other, not command. We have plans to eat your pussy for innumerable hours to come and cannot do it if you elude us with your body’s untamed reactions.”

  She whimpered. “I know, I know.” She reached down to spread her labia wide. “But I am so needy, I think I will come without either of you. And that would be such a waste, such a waste. Please do not desert me!” She felt tears come to her eyes.

  “Eat her until she comes, Geoff. She deserves it, sweet puss. I shall observe.” Roger drifted away and a part of Clarice seemed to go with him.

  “Will you return?” she beseeched him.

  “I will, my dear,” he said from somewhere far away as Geoff bent over her and pressed his luscious lips to her clitoris and sucked her high and hard into his mouth. She rode his passion with muted screams, her hands plucking at the deep black velvet upholstery. Her gaze darted over Geoff’s shoulders, to Roger’s dark scowl as his cousin explored all of her folds, fingered each crease, tugged on each delicate edge and reached up inside her with his long and tormenting tongue to bring down more cream and a mad shout of her thundering release.

  Wiping his mouth with another of his handkerchiefs, Geoff kissed her hard hungry clit, her seam and the top of her mound, then stood. “She is everything we knew she would be, Roger.

  Sweet as a ripe peach, thick with want, a huge clitoris that demands a devoted tongue and rewards you with powerful convulsions in her fiery furnace. You will enjoy her. She is the rarest piece of cunt I have ever sucked.”

  Roger said nothing for the longest minutes, but stared at her slit.

  She examined him, her body ravenous for his. Her passions not abated by Geoff’s attentions but her wild cravings now at fever pitch.

  “What would you like, Roger?” she asked finally. “That which you need, I will provide.”

  “Will you, my darling?”

  “I promise you whatever it is, I am yours.”

  “Go get him, Geoff.”

  Geoff left the room, leaving Roger and Clarice to stare at each other in silence.

  She knew that to be too inquisitive might anger him. She had no need of that. She wanted him at her service. Geoff, too. Who was this other man Roger summoned?

  Geoff opened the door and behind him strode a slightly taller man, hell dark, broad as heaven, but with silver edging in his hair.

  “You have primed her?” this new arrival asked in a rasping bass voice.

  “We have, your Grace,” Roger answered. “Clarice, this is our oldest cousin, the Duke of Mornay. He comes to us only to do your bidding. Tell us, Clarice, what is your fondest desire and it shall be done.”

  She glanced at the overwhelming sexual appeal of his grace, the Duke of Mornay. She had heard of him, his wealth, his war escapades, his wounds, one to his left leg, one to his face, where, yes indeed, she saw a scar reach from his jaw to the corner of his left eye. Most of all, she had heard of him as a man who sought a wife with a few rare attributes. She must be wealthy. She must be indisputably lovely. And she must be insatiable in bed.

  Clarice now knew she was his mate. His best choice. Her finest chance to have a man in her bed, in her life. A man she did not have to love, but one who had friends and thrilled her to the core. She had only to prove it to him.

  The duke strolled to her side. His gaze beneath the black mask roamed over her. “Lovely breasts. The nipples are huge, satin and rosy. I like to suck on hard ones. Will you enjoy that, my lovely?” He put out one hand to cup one breast and then pinched the nipple.

  “I will.” She squirmed. “I do.”

  “I see this is so. I like your legs. They are long, taut. Have you ever had a man put them over his shoulders as he fucked you?”

  “No, but I welcome that, too. I am agile.”

  The duke smiled. “I also understand you like to be fucked in the ass.”

  “True, true. Geoff has been so kind as to give me a taste of that.”

  “Roll over, my lovely. Let me see your pretty hole.”

  She did as he asked, and he fingered her intricately there so that she undulated. “Very tight. Not torn. I hate that. You used the plugs to good advantage. My cock is very big, you see.

  And you have need of that. Geoff will, of course, continue to prepare you for me by using his wonderful tool in your ass, before I come to tend it. Is that acceptable to you, my sweet?”

  She rolled back over, her palms running over her pebbling nipples and down to her sopping wet cunt. “Perfectly. What else might I do to please you, your grace?”

  He leaned over, his fathomless eyes a devil’s invitation to endless nights of passion.

  “What is your biggest fantasy my pet? Tell me.”

  “And if I do, what will I get for my reward?”

  “Why, my name and titles. Me in your bed. Agreed?”

  She nodded, thinking what else she might ask.

  The duke noticed her contemplation. “What more could you want, Clarice?’”

  “By biggest fantasy, whenever I want, whenever I need it.”

  “Of course. Tell me and it is yours,” the duke proclaimed.

  She beckoned him closer to the foot of her bed. “I want you to fuck me now in my cunt.”

  “That is—” the duke began.

  She put up a hand. “Please allow me, your grace, to finish.”

  “Proceed.”

  “I want Geoff in my mouth at the same time Roger is in my ass and you are fucking me in my very lonely, very empty, very smooth and creamy cunt.” She ran a hand over her plump pubic mound to tantalize him.

  “My god!” the duke exclaimed and cursed.

  Clarice despaired. Were all men territorial with their women? Was she never to find a man who claimed to give her all she required, but then removed the prize when it suited his fancy? She began to rise.

  “No!” all three men shouted at once.

  And she reclined to the chaise.

  “Let me under you,” said the duke and began to remove his clothes.

  “Let me behind you,” said Roger with a wide grin on his face.

  “Let me open your pretty mouth,” said Geoff, licking his lower lip.

  And the four of them found ecstasy that afternoon which each vowed would continue for years and years to come.

  And so it did. Till death did them part.

  About the Author

  Cerise DeLand believes great romances match feisty women with one—or more—men who cannot live without them. And Cerise knows men—all types of them from living in Italy, England, Japan, New York, Washington—and wild west Texas! She blends that intimate knowledge with a passion for European and Chinese art and travel to delightful lands she loves to write about.

  An award-winning author, Cerise has also penned 18 print romances and mysteries (under another name), many of which have been selections of The Doubleday Book Club and The Mystery Guild. And what does this prolific author do when she’s not writing? Ah. She is an excellent cook. To taste and prepare a few of her delicacies, do come to her blog, especially on Thursdays for her Afternoon Delights, elegant simple refreshments to serve after your rendezvous! http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Epilogue

 

 

 


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