“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Would you like to try their merlot? It’s quite lovely.” Her date asked, and after a second or two of thought, gave in. Swearing brevity, their server left them with their menus, on the way asking a table if they were enjoying the meal.
He sipped at his wine, rolling it about in the glass before bringing his nose to it, taking in a lungful as he enjoyed the complexities of the aroma. The Viscountess returned her gaze to the menu, and finding the drinks list found herself astounded that he’d been so generous as to offer her a drink. No, not generous, the slimy thing is merely trying to make his way into her knickers. Don’t let you guard down, Emma girl, that snake will slither about until the opportunity arises to strike.
Numbers, numbers... find the highest-price item she thought her mother would enjoy and she’ll take the most expensive meal they had to offer. The back of her mind toyed with how she might manage to empty his pocketbook some more, there would be a point where he’d start to sweat and stutter and grow nervous. Surely. Yes... her lips parted in shock at the prices had slowly turned to a wicked grin, one side curled up as the other continue to rest, giving off a supremely confident show. That’s how she’ll be rid of him; too expensive for him to possibly afford.
“Yup, I’m ready to order.” Folding the paper up she put it down on the table, looking to him with that smirk.
“Em...” he folded his slowly, thinkingly, before looking to her. “Do you have a dog, by chance? Could get him a nice little steak if you like, the sirloin marsala is beyond delectable.”
That’s the pricey item she had planned to order.
Chapter 4
Her smile glowed as they rumbled along the dirt road, her neck lined with glistening gems, a flat rectangular box tied up with ribbon containing a brand new dress of the latest style. Still feeling full from that luxurious meal, her mother had been a bit perplexed at being brought a meal from a restaurant but upon seeing it she thanked them none the less before seeing them off once more. More thankful than for the meal, she was glad to see her daughter so happy, even though it was mostly due to her sinister plan to stagger him with expenses.
Well, there was no stagger, he smiled just as she did, but with all she'd gained from that date it was hard to look displeased. The wheels slowed as they turned towards her large family home. Watching him walk along, the loud engine turned off, she awaited him to open the door for her before she got out with the boxed dress in-hand.
“That was quite a first date.”
“Mmm.” A rather mild agreement considering her confident smile and glinting neck.
“We must do this again sometime.” The man reached down, gently taking her hand, and she only managed to suppress yanking it away by the fact that her mother doubtlessly heard the engine and was watching them through the window. He brought the small hand up, kissing the back of it, her brand new bejeweled ring glancing his cheek.
“Perhaps we shall.”
“Give your mother my regards, I hope she enjoyed our little gift.”
“I'm sure she did.” His considerate comments and mentions were met with brief responses, awaiting him to return to the steering wheel and putter off.
“Well, I'll write when I'm available for another night out, perhaps next time will be a ball, hmm?”
“Perhaps.”
“Good night, dear Emma.” He brought himself forward to take her lips in his, she turned her face to offer a cheek. Any other time, it would be her offering something to his cheek, and it would not be her lips. He accepted the small victory.
“Night, Your Grace.” He hadn't even opened the driver side door before she turned to her home and made her way inside.
“Well, you seemed rather stiff upon your return. Not even a proper good night kiss for a... well... how could that not be a successful first date?” Her eyes remained on the exquisite necklace for a moment. High-class food, jewelry, and what's that?” Her daughter slid the box onto the large dining table.
“A dress from France.”
“France? My... however...” the mother's eyes were low, and Emma followed their direction, lifting her right hand that held the new ring between pinkie and middle fingers. “Right finger, wrong hand.” The girl scoffed.
“You expect engagement on the very first date?”
“At your age? I accept engagement whenever possible.” Her mother rattled out quickly and sternly. “Whenever possible. Especially for a man of his standing. Moreover...” her eyes narrowed a moment, “... wh-... where's your make-up? It had been on when you brought me the plate, wasn't it?”
“Um, well... n-no.” It had been a very brief return visit, no drinks or even sitting down. The meal had been presented and they were off once more.
“No? Whatever happened?”
“Must we get into details, mummy?”
“I don't know, must we? He had sworn to tell me how the date had gone. Would you rather I hear the details from him first, or from you?” The wise mother had an eyebrow raised as sh gauged he girl's reactions and mannerisms. A step back, a look to the side, a hand to the back of her neck, shoulders giving a slight slouch, features appearing unsure and worried. “What happened?”
“I... well, he...”
“Yeeees?”
“He was driving all over the road like mad!”
“He what?”
“Like mad! Swerving this way and that, I had to hold on lest I fall into his lap!”
“I see... did you?” The woman took a chair away from the table, taking a seat, not taking her eyes from her daughter. Emma pulled out a chair as well, facing her, still looking unsure and worried. It didn't feel right, nor comfortable, sharing these things with her.
“Well, no, not on his lap, I fell against him though.” A drop of poison in her tone as she said it, eyes narrowing in a slight scowl.
“Good, and then?”
“Good?!”
“Yes, good. Be close to him. Shower him with affection. After all, it's not like he's a visually unpleasant man. Quite handsome in fact. Had I been your age, I wouldn't need 'swerves' to fall to his lap.” She said it so easily, even shrugging.
“Mother!”
“What did he do when you fell against him.”
“He-!...” somehow she doubted she would get the response she wanted, but none the less spoke in outrage. “He kissed me!”
“Oh, that's sweet of him.”
“It had been moments after we left the house!”
“Oh he likes you, that's good. I hope he didn't give you any tongue however.”
“Mother!” She shrieked, scarcely accepting her very own ears.
“Answer the question, Emmabelle.” A shiver went up the girl's spine.
“W-well... the kiss was on my forehead, not on my lips.” The mother's eyes lowered, mouth coming slightly agape as she leaned forth a bit, looking at her girl in disbelief.
“WOH-HO-HO-HO!” Her head was tossed back, a great smile on her face, giving her knee a pat in the process. “Ho-ho-ho, really? Over this, you show outrage? He sounds perfectly charming!”
“I didn't want him to kiss me!” Emma started smartly as a BANG echoed the room, her mother's hand coming down sharply to the dining table next to the expensive boxed dress.
“It's not about what you want, you spoiled little spinster brat!” The girl's jaw lost all strength, lowering utterly as she felt pressure and moisture building in her eyes. “It's about whether you want to live... or whether you want to live in squalor!” Silence hung between the two for a few seconds as they stared at one another, the more elderly woman with wide and angry eyes, outraged at her own daughter's ignorance, as her spoiled nature leaked out just as liquid began to leak to her cheeks. “He's a charming young man, tall, handsome, generous-” she gestured to the box and peered at the necklace, “-sweet, and above all as far as you should be concerned, wealthy!” Up and down the hand went once more in spite of how much it already stung, attempting to drive home the
vital importance of the situation. It brought another shudder to poor Emmabelle.
“M-mother...”
“If he gets you another ring, it had best be on the proper finger!”
“But mummy, this... this stuff,” she pulled the ring off and clunked it onto the table, she undid the necklace from behind her neck and put it, too, down, and yanked at the beautiful ribbon and ripped at the box until some of the luxurious and colourful fabric was shown. “It's worth hundreds, maybe even thousands!” Her eyes in tears, standing, looking down desperately at her sitting mother who looked up at her with the same large, angry eyes, she pleaded. “Can't we just sell them? Surely it would do us for months at least! Maybe even a year?”
That ferocious gaze up at Emma began to level as her mother slowly rose, eyes locked on her, moving steadily and smoothly while her emotional girl shivered and shuddered in fright at both the present and the future. They stood nearly at eye-level for a good moment, a tense moment, before a sudden SLAP twitched Emma's view from her mother to off to the side, her cheek numb for a split second before prickling, stinging pain began to flourish like a blooming rose. Red marks of fingers spreading on her fair skin like tiny roots growing beneath the skin. The girl froze there for a time, processing what had just happened, each breath coming in as a gasp.
“You ignorant, heartless creature. I can't believe you...” still that penetrating glare, even as her daughter didn't even look back at her. “Go to your room, and pray. Pray for marriage... or pray I pass before you bring an end to our family legacy.” A couple seconds passed, still processing, but leaving the luxurious items behind she obediently went to her room empty handed, one of those empty hands coming to cup her throbbing cheek, the other swaying at her hip as she slouchedly made her way down the hall.
The woman of the house slowly turned, her own hand feeling much as painful as her daughter's cheek did. She rest against the large dining room table, peering down at the jewelry and partially-exposed dress. With infinitely more care, her own eyes welling up, she undid the ribbon and opened the ruined box. She spread the dress out on the surface, next to the glistening items. The necklace was brought up above the neckline of the outfit, and the ring brought over to its left side while the dress faced up towards her. She pictured her daughter in it... and it brought some stillness to her rapidly beating heart. Looking down at the ring, picturing it on her right hand where it had been before, she took it, and slowly brought it over to the other side of the dress. The left hand. The tears grew ever more steady as she imagined it, and gently dropped to her knees, hands coming together where the dress dropped down along the edge of the table, her tears dripping down onto the fabric.
“God, why do you see fit to torment me. Please help me, aide me, show her away from her foolish behaviour. She doesn't know how lucky we are to have found the eye of such a man. Please, let her see it, as soon as can be, for her sake as well as mine. I don't know how much more time we have before we're met with true desperation. Please strengthen the Duke of Dawsbury with plentiful patience, I fear he may need it. Please, we need your help.” The woman gave a sniffle, several tears having soaked into the glistening blue fabric. “Amen...”
Chapter 5
He could still taste the brandy on his tongue as he thrust it in her mouth, and in it, he found her flavour of wine. Her knees rest on his hips, she felt how his tongue swirled around hers, felt his tongue on her considerable chest, the masculine body hair grazing along her smooth and ever so slightly softened belly, and down below... his flaccid member resting on her moist slit.
“Ahh.” he surrendered, falling to his side, a hand still enjoying her bosom. “No, it's no use, I don't understand it.”
She turned towards him, running a hand from his manly chest down his powerful torso to his groin, fingers curving about his scarcely semi-erect member, rubbing, stroking.
“It's alright, Decky-baby.” She continued to stroke his soft length as she looked up at him, giving a gasp as he pinched one of her nipples.
“Perhaps it's the booze. I did have quite a few.”
“You did. How dare you get so zozzled, my dear hot-cocked stud?” Reprimanding him with a smile, she began sneaking down beneath the covers, her faintly chubby form growing farther and farther away from him as she soon felt her breath on the cock in her grasp. Soon, the wet warmth of lips and tongue.
“Mmh... sorry, Em-” his eyes flashed, “Liz.” The sucking hesitated, and the wetness of his member felt her breath on it all the easier.
“Hnn-hnn,” she giggled, “forget my name?”
“Never, toots. Just got lost in how well you work my John Thomas.” Her lip constricted on him, he felt them slide down nearly to the hilt, and felt how her tongue circled around his glans. “Ahhhh, that's the stuff.”
“Mmmmm...” she agreed, her mouth still on him, and he felt her soft little fingers slip beneath his balls, cradling them lovingly. Those tight lips rose suddenly, up and off his prick, her hand jerking him animatedly. “That's it, babe. You'll be ready for some good whoopie in no time.” She brought herself down to kiss the base of his shaft, on the side, still jerking the farther end of it.
“Keep that up and I just might have to do you twice.”
“As many times as you want, Duke.”
“Hahhh, pullin' out all the stops tonight, hmm?” She knew how to say it so well, and something about the power over her, this commoner woman he secretly banged from time to time, it tended to get him off nicely.
“You know it, snookums. I want that hot shaft in me tonight.”
“Well come up here, then, sugar-tits.” The form of her under the blanket quickly made it way over him, feeling her breasts rubbing along his body the whole way.
“You say my name, hun?”
“I did...” craning his head up, his lips took hers, an arm scooping 'round her back, coaxing her aside. She tipped obediently, rolling as he got on top. He reached down, grabbed himself, fed it into her, and watched those glorious tits bounce as the thrusting began.
“Oh Duke, mmh, yeah baby, yeah, plow me hard, Duke.” Her voice whined up to him, her hands on his shoulders, legs up and around him as she gave herself to him. He grabbed at her breast, squeezing it, feeling the hardness of her nipple, pushing that Heavenly mound of fat up towards him so as to suckle her.
The thrusting went steadily enough, her whining voice pined for him, praised him, called him by his royal title. The thrusting quickened further, only for a burst, but slowed... and slowed.
“Oh no, did it?” In truth, she often hoped he would come inside her, either by accident or on purpose. Perhaps then there would be marriage and thus, with him, much wealth and status that otherwise she couldn't ever hope for, but that's not what she was asking.
“Damn... yeah.” The thrusting stopped, he pulled out his merely half-erect cock, once more lying on his side beside her before rolling onto his back. She scooted over, cuddling up to him, reaching down and stroking him.
“It's ok, babe. It's just the drink, that's all.”
“Yeah, I don't understand it...”
“Want me to get you off with my mouth again? I know how you love it.”
“I don't know. It might have to wait for another night, my Queen.” She moaned into him, stroking his cock all the harder.
“Don't tease me, sweet-dick, you know how I love it when you call me that.”
“Well, you are Elizabeth, are you not?”
“Should I give your prick the royal order to harden for me?” She asked naughtily, but saw his smile wane. He didn't seem to be getting any harder, indeed in time it felt like she was stroking a big, hot, wet noodle. Finally, her hand left it. “Alright, another night.” The hand slid along him until it was at his chest, stroking the hair on him.
“Perhaps even morning.”
“Mmh, true, you like to stick like a needle all day long after a night of embalming yourself.”
“And oh how embalmed I feel now.”
“
Head gone for a swim?”
“Heheh.” He stroked her bare shoulder with his thumb as he chuckled. “Not quite that far, but one more and I'd be there.
“Mmh... oh Decky... I wish we could lie like this every night.”
He peered up at the blackness in the ceiling of his bedroom. So much wealth, so many women, royal status, regularly attending and indeed throwing fantastic parties for which some travel miles to attend. Elizabeth? She's just one of many he could call, yet there was only one he had in mind. The chunky girl rest her eyes as she leaned into him, and he opened his mouth ever so slightly, speaking without voice.
“Emma...” he mouthed, almost wishing she would materialize above him and float down to join him. He could picture her, her hair reaching down for him just as he knew he'd reach up to her in kind. He knew not what she looked like naked, but there she was, seeming like one of those star-class actress women in the pictures, but even more beautiful. He felt her locks, their lips meet, he runs a hand from her upper back along the delicate curve of her spine down to her rear, enjoying a squeeze.
Declan closed his eyes, keeping his mouth shut, hoping Liz was asleep or soon to be as he felt blood begin to rush to his manhood. Pressure built, and built, and built, and seeing her behind his closed eyes, his infamous cock throbbed and twitched desirously. He longed to hold her, to pleasure her, to touch her, and oh how he wished to fuck her. To thrust wildly, have her lose her mind with pleasure, and fill her up to the brim. Fill her with a nice warm bun to bake and grow in her lovely little oven.
Thankfully, Liz slept soundly, and he too fell from consciousness even while his manhood stood at attention in a tent in the sheet that blanketed them.
What a doll. She knew how he loved to wake up with his dick in a nice, hot mouth. He tossed the blankets aside, sleepily looking down as her eyes peered up at him, her head bobbing on his knob.
“Ohhh, you naughty little Queen...”
“Mmmm...” she moaned on him, her head suddenly bobbing more rapidly. A finger and thumb were wrapped about his base as she kept it steady in her grasp while she worked it. The other hand? It reached down... down... rubbing herself as she serviced the incredible-
Regency Romance Omnibus 2018: Dominate Dukes & Tenacious Women Page 65
