The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories

by Lacoste, G. G.

  They stopped dead in their tracks. Not one peep was made. They had heard tales of that old woman and the things that she had been up to. But no one had seen her close enough or had a personal encounter to take notes about.

  Chapter VII – A Tingle Twingle Of Spirit

  It was no wonder they had not, she was the tinniest tinge darker than the lightest gray.

  But, the strangest part was that her limbs, neck, head, and hair seemed to mimic the rest. She wondered how that could even be possible. Maybe she wasn’t human, she thought.

  All that they could think was that, they had seen a witch and that she might eat them or find them to be entirely too bony instead. And maybe that would be the deterring factor that ultimately saved them in the end from being baked in an oversized oven. She stayed near but caused no problems.

  They sat down tired, thirsty, and lost with no other place for them to go. The spirit swirled around them lowering her hand for crawfish, nutria, and other gathering items and took them from them. She put them to the side and twirled off around but not too far away and was back before they knew it.

  There seemed to be a tinge of friction in the air. The presence had shown no signs of maleficence, but only time would tell the truth. So they waited patiently, to witness what was to come next. It was never very clear what she was doing exactly, but she most definitely was an elegant swirl in her movement.

  Chapter VIII – Whip Me Up Something Really Good

  She was whipping up some kind of concoction in a ginormous black cast iron pot that seemed that it would hold up under any temperature. She added the ingredients that she had collected from them as well as from the wild. She pulled something from around her neck to rest outside of her blouse.

  The spirit guided them over to an area of ground with some simple worn pillows around the way. She obviously had something to say, as it would seem, she was ready to do so.

  The vision finally spoke,

  “You did not ask, but I have been waiting for you for so long. That also means that I am making the correct concoction for the right people. Have faith new friends.

  Once upon a time I met a pack of wolves. It was way down on the lowest point in the valley. I could hear them howling at the moon, but closing in towards me all at the same while they kept going.

  I was afraid. I was so afraid that I felt paralyzed other than a racing heart inside of my chest. Life seemed to be over for me, so I did something.

  I did something very special for someone that I would grow to trust over a good deal of time. You may not have known it but I have always been there or at least nearby.”

  They both wondered how that could even be possible. She was nothing more than a figment of their exhausted imagination. So they were on pins and needles waiting to hear more about the presence meant.

  So she went on,

  “Bo. When you were five and were playing in the backyard with your brother. Your parents had walked a block down for a hut party. If you can recall, there were treats left by the fireplace for you to enjoy.

  Your tiny brother took a big old bite of his meat as he giggled and danced around. He started to choke and it went unnoticed for a moment until his face started turning blue.

  But if you recall young man, you rose to the challenge you walked yourself back over there and stood behind him with purpose. And when he began to gasp for air, you stepped up to the plate.

  You wrapped your untrained arms around him as if you had done it a million times before. It came so naturally, yet you had had not a lessen one.

  That’s where little witch ferries come together to serve all interests. We cannot over ride every plan deigned above our heads.

  You see my friend, there are many like me. We hide in the shadows, we wait patiently, and that is until you need us. We are here to support your efforts. Helping you become the best you.

  You see, my child….. We can’t help everyone, only the chosen few and that is all. I can’t explain it either.”

  They were given a comfortable place to bed down for the night with adequate accommodations. With food and water nearby them to nourish them. More so than they would have gotten anywhere else at that point.

  Things had been happening so quickly around them that what had once seemed right side up had since turned downward. That was just what it was.

  She went on,

  “Some things are just meant to be, whether you would believe it or not. There is not always a happy ending. My lady you are with child and it is not your husband’s child. He will be considered a bastard child. During the next nine months, you will be in danger.

  He will find out about the affair and the pregnancy and he will try to take your life. I can’t give you the specifics or any detail either.

  But you should take care to provide for your safety and the well – being of your unborn child. He will come to you in the dead of night, when all is quiet in the manor.”

  The two lay together that night, holding each other so tight. They feared the future, knowing what a powerful man the duke was. He was well known for going to great lengths to torture those who were not in his favor. They were both well aware of his strategic tactics. He showed no mercy or even empathy.

  THE END

  WARNING: This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This ebook is for sale to adults ONLY

  Please ensure this ebook is stored somewhere that cannot be accessed by underage readers.

   Copyright 2015 by Rita Ryan- All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  The Duke’s Prize

  Regency Romance

  By: Rita Ryan

  The Duke’s Prize

  CHAPTER ONE

  John, Duke of Hampshire stood alone in his late father's study, staring out through the French doors at the rose garden, now dark and empty. The winter passed slowly. The Duke drank less and kept focus on the estate. A great restlessness had taken over the lethargy of summer. Spring was here and he had to enjoy himself this social season.

  “Your grace, his lordship Marco has arrived,” said the maid.

  “Show him in.”

  Lord Marco walked in and hugged his longtime friend. He had deep black chestnut hair, deep brown eyes, they're almost black and beautiful, his cheeks were thin and chiseled, and his deep tanned skin and tall build looked amazingly hot. He smiled with his dimpled cheeks. He wore a package of white tights, sexy thigh high boots, brocade tunic; fine leather gloves and a hat with enormous black plume. Everything about him was so fine and elegant.

  “How have you been?” asked Lord Marco.

  “Well, I've been busy with the estate but now ‘tis time to relax.”

  “I was waiting for you so we can go horseback riding while you check out the estate.”

  “Are you still a good rider?” asked Marco.

  “That for a fact has never changed. I am still the best.”

  “Well, we'll see about that.” he let out an exasperated sigh.

  “What are your plans for tonight?”

  “I do not intent to have fun tonight. I'm not in the mood for anything.”

  “Don't miss out on this year's season. It will be great.”

  “Don't worry I'll be there.”

  “Let’s hope so and you can find yourself a bride.”

  John chuckled as he went to the coffee table. He replenished his own and Marco's coffee, then returned the sterling pot to its place on the table, adjusting its position slightly to the side so the handle was perfectly parallel to the edge of its tray. He tightened the lids on the chafing dish and aligned the handle of the teaspoo
n before returning to his seat.

  “Still a perfectionist, that's why you're married to her grace Christine, a strict and organized woman.”

  “I’m happy with her but you also have to look for a woman.”

  “No way, I think I've not met the right bride for me.”

  “Don't look too hard, start with today's event.”

  “I’m happy to be married and living in this lavish manor,” his face looked stern as he poured himself a cup of brewed coffee.

  “But what? You look depressed.” Marco asked

  “I’m having an affair with the maid; my wife still doesn’t know anything.”

  “That is bad my brother because she will find out one way or the other.”

  “I’ve tried to stop but I can’t, she has this spell on me and I feel like a man when I’m with her. She’s wild and that’s what I need right now.” They took the saddles as they walked out.

  ****

  There are several things one can think of during the social season. Women dressed in their best wardrobe and at least one overzealous suitor. This year proves no exception. Having come out of a stressing state of mind, Lady Sara was determined to adopt the hedonistic approach to society. She was the widow of the late Lord Melbourne. Lady Sara found herself in the home of John, Duke of Hampshire. She was one of the invited guests. After everything she decided to attend this garden party. The garden was spectacular, the roses, whose equal according to rumor, would not be found in the whole of London. She hoped to meet John, the man whose legacy had caused a stir amongst all aristocracy.

  Lovely tents were scattered between trees and flowerbeds, ensuring that the guests would be more than a few feet from the refreshments. The sound of the orchestra wafted through the grounds. The ladies gritted about, their dresses competing with the flowers for attention. But someone caught her attention, John Duke of Hampshire walked in the crowd with a glass of wine in hand. Everything about him was beyond the descriptions given to Lady Sara. He was even more handsome than the pictures she was shown. Every woman wanted to be with him even when he was married.

  “I have to win his heart. That means doing everything in my power”, she thought as she tried to get to him in the crowd. She felt someone pat her on the back.

  “Excuse me miss,” said Lord Marco.

  “Yes, how may I help you?” answered Sara.

  “I'm Marco, a very good friend of Jo-, I mean the Duke.”

  Well, well, well what luck! Thought Sara as she stretched out her hand to Marco.

  “I'm Sara, it's a pleasure to meet you sir.”

  “The pleasure's all mine, I thought I would meet beautiful women, but I never thought I would meet one with exceptional beauty like you, my lady.

  “Thank you.” he offered her a glass of wine and smiled at her.

  “Do you come from around?”

  “No, I'm from Genoa.”

  “How do you find England?”

  “More exciting, now that I know you. I must stay for a while.”

  He couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was the cream of the party, but damn if this one didn't exceed all definitions. Curling wisps of hair trailed down her neck. She looked up at him, giving him the first full sight of her face. Her eyes were longing for something else or someone else. He looked up and saw John motioning for him to come.

  “Give me a minute, wait for me here and don't move.”

  “Alright.” she watched him move to meet the Duke.

  “I'll use him to get to John,” she thought with a smile across her face. She turned as someone disrupted her thoughts.

  “Hey cousin, how are you holding up?”

  “Much better, this is the best day of my life. Thank you for forcing me to come along.”

  “I knew you'd enjoy yourself. Cheers to that.” they enjoyed their drinks and smiled.

  ****

  Lord Marco had joy written all over his face. He kept on looking at the crowd for his mysterious lady.

  “I've noticed that you're not paying attention to what I'm saying.” said John

  “What were you saying again?”

  “Never mind, what's on your mind? I can tell it's something good.”

  “I think I've met the one.”

  “What do you mean the one?”

  “Do you know the name of the lady I was with a couple of minutes ago?”

  “I've never seen her before, maybe you should have asked her.”

  “You're right; I'll look for her now.”

  “Many guests have left; I doubt you'll find her.”

  “I'll try my best.”

  “If you don't find her check the guest list.”

  “That's a great idea, thank you.” John stared at the maid; he knew his wife would be busy with the guests and not paying attention to him. The maid stared back at him as she went through the hallway. She was going to wait for him in one of the guest rooms.

  “I have something I need to take care of; I’ll see you in a bit.” He said as he handed his wine glass to Marco. He followed her from behind; he watched if anyone knew where he was going. Everyone was busy mingling and only Marco saw where he was going as he smiled. He held her by the arm and pulled her inside the room. He was fast and swift.

  “Do you think you can grant me the chance?” she smiled and started walking away. He pulled her to his chest. She sensed his gaze. Lingering, burning her. Those eyes reached her to fill her emptiness. She's never felt like this before.

  “I have to go.” she trembled.

  “Not until you give me an answer.”

  “My goodness” her voice hit him hard on his gut, something primal pounded through him. An urge to grab her by the back of her head and kiss her with such force she would run. He looked down to her and was drowning in those round beautiful eyes.

  “Say something,”

  “I don't know what to say,” she said in a bedchamber tone.

  He exhaled her name, and cupped her face. The sensation was pure and the texture of her skin was soft. She closed her eyes and lifted her head, she was not sure he moved but still, she felt his mouth on hers. She moaned as she opened her mouth, all wet, hot and sweet against his tongue.

  He moved his hands against the wool of her bodice, pulling her more closely. Her taste was extremely toxic. He worked her mouth without mercy. She returned his caresses measure for measure until they were forced to stop.

  “I think I should go. Someone might find us”, she said in a hoarse voice.

  “May I touch you?” he asked seductively. She nodded but remained silent. She closed her eyes as she felt him standing before her. She could smell the wine on his breath, so appealing. His left hand rested on her hip while the right one ran along the side of her face. She nearly lost control of her body; her knees were weak and her womanhood ached with pleasure.

  His finger continued to run along her neck and down to her heaving chest. His hand cupped one of her breasts.

  “Your breasts are so firm and hard.” He acknowledged. She nodded again but still remained silent. Her lips were slightly parted in a silent invitation to be kissed by him. He leaned in and brushed his lips across her ear while whispering, “It suits you.”

  He was seducing her. This wasn’t her typical roses or candle light affair. It was an intoxicating and erotic encounter that was making her lose her mind.

  “Turn around,” he softly said. He wrapped his hand fully around her waist, holding her against him as he placed his left hand on her forehead. He pulled her head to the side. His mouth covered the skin of her neck. He sucked and licked her until she was gasping for air. This was now becoming urgent. She could feel his desire.

  She wanted to see him but the experience was so exquisite that she couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t turn to face him because she was not allowed to. She heard the low sound of desire boiling inside of him.

  It was as if he was growling as his body began to writhe against hers. His lips moved hungrily on her neck and shoulder as his ha
nds wondered from her breast to belly and back again. He was an animal but in a sweet way. She felt like he was losing control of his senses, he was now about to unleash his passion on her. Her vagina was swollen and twitching at the same time. She felt the sense of desperation building up within her.

  With his hands on each of her hips, he led her to the bed. He pushed her until she was lying face down on the bed. Her shoes slipped from her feet to the floor. He massaged each foot tenderly with his palms. His hands ran up the back of her calves and rested on her buttocks. He kneaded them like dough between his strong fingers. She was exposed and felt vulnerable.

  She felt she had chosen the best underwear and a thigh high stocking. It seemed to appeal him because he moaned as he kissed the back of her thighs and her round, tight ass. She could feel her vagina coating the fabric of her thong with her wetness.

  “Turn over and lie on you back,” she did as he instructed. “Now raise your hand and grab the headboard.” He continued.

  He removed her thigh high stockings and used it to tie my wrists to the bed. Her heart and mind raced frantically. She was not sure whether she wanted this or not, yet she couldn’t say no. She felt so confused yet so aroused. She chose to remain silent.

  She wanted to gauge the level of danger that existed. She could smell the mixture of his soap and wine. She felt the heat in her wrist from the friction from the stocking. Her inner thighs trembled.

  He gently placed a hand on her knees and gently pulled them apart. She tried to relax and let her legs open, exposing her dripping vagina. Before she realized it, his face was buried between her thighs. His tongue moved swiftly on her clitoris. She was breathless.

  She could hear him slurping and sucking her; he pushed his tongue in and out of her while lapping the juices that were flowing from her. Her palm held around the headboard, shaking and sweating as he devoured her. He held her ass so tight, squeezing her cheeks with his face on her pussy. She felt an orgasm building.