Regency Romance Omnibus 2018: Dominate Dukes & Tenacious Women

by Virginia Vice

  It was her first morning without parents, both of them gone and yet at such a young age. The debts of her father had thus been transferred from her mother to herself, but of course money was something that was far from her mind. Minutes ticked by, maybe an hour, maybe two. A knock at the door, his servant's kind voice penetrating the barrier asking if they would like breakfast. She shook her head. He was hungry, but called out that they didn't want any yet, however thanked the man none the less.

  Emma began to shudder in front of him before long, a couple sniffles coming.

  “Shhhhhhh... it's ok.” He whispered to her ear, hugging her tightly. The erection had gone away a fair while ago and he was glad for it to have gone.

  “I just... can't believe...” she began to turn in his arms. “Can't believe she's...” she sniffled again, tears just beginning to develop in her eyes again. “I've got... nobody left.” She faced him, her forehead at his bare chest. His arms hugged her proper, hands stroking her back, and stroking her hair.

  “You've got me, Emma. I'm here.” His head craned down, a kiss placed atop her head. “I'll do all that I can to help you.” The Duke whispered down to her, speaking slowly and clearly. “Every step of the way, I'll be here when you need help, I'll lead if you want me to, and I'll follow when you wish to take care of a matter personally.” She took in a slow, ragged breath, but her tensed body seemed to start to relax. First a little, and then it seemed like she gave way completely as she leaned into him.

  “I'm... I'm glad I... have you.” She choked out. “I just wish... that mum... could have...” he felt the wetness on her tears mingle with his chest hair, and he hugged her close, petting and stroking her.

  “Shhh... shhhhhhhhh.... shhhhhhhhh...” it was muffled among her weeps, but still he gave the comforting sound. “It's ok, it's ok... let it out. Everything will be alright.” Her small arms snaked around his torso, and it felt as though she hugged him even harder than he hugged her. “I love you, Emma. I'm here for you.” Still she wept.

  “Uh-” she choked out at his chest, “... I...” difficulty breathing, “I luh-...” she could scarcely speak, “... luh... awww-haww-hawwwww!” The hopeless effort was abandoned.

  “Close enough.”

  Inevitably, hunger and the need to visit the water closet prevailed, and the cried-out daughter and her fiance had to abandon the comfy bed she'd had since childhood. What awful timing of it all, her first night sleeping with the man she'll be spending her life with was the first night she slept with the knowledge that she no longer had parents. It was mere robes for either of them that day, and all too soon, more wine. Much more wine. She didn't want to do anything, she didn't want to see anybody, it was just the two of them and his servant.

  “Shall I have Gerard get the pistols?” He replied, having heard her mutter to herself how much she hates that horse while staring out the window at the stable.

  “No. Perhaps another time.”

  “Would you like to go for a meal later on?” It was noon, neither had yet washed, neither had yet dressed, she had not put on any make-up. She didn't even look at him from where her gaze rest on the table, the window abandoned, and merely gave her head a small shake to answer him.

  He reached out and took a hand, which she let him have, though she still continued merely looked down.

  “Emma...” he said softly, “I love you.” A gentle smile on his as of yet unshaven face. As she looked up, Gerard could be seen approaching the living room from the hall, a fresh bottle of wine in-hand. Still, that was merely in her peripherals, she let her gaze rest on his handsome face.

  “I love you, too, Declan.” She did not smile, but he could hear how she meant it, how earnest and serious every word was. “This all means... so much to me.” The hand he held began to feel as though it held his as well.

  “More wine?” The best-dressed of the room stood straight as a red-coated soldier of old, holding the wine bottle label-out.

  “Leave it, please, Gerard.” He replied, and his smile broadened as her lips finally took on a slightly up-turned shape since he had spoken it without taking his eyes off her.

  “Certainly, sir.” He put the bottle down on the table between the two glasses, and he chose that spot because it's what he was trained to do, unless of course that position proved inconvenient for those who would enjoy it. The observant fellow had picked up on the one and a half smiles before him, as they leaned heavily on the table, their gazes relatively low to its surface. It was an inconvenient place to put the bottle, for it blocked their sight slightly, which he understood, and the one and a half smiles became two as his hand carefully returned, slowly sliding the bottle aside a couple inches before retreating, the fiance's gazes never leaving one another.

  “I like Gerard.” The Duke commented light-heartedly as the servant left the two.

  “I do too.” She said with the first real smile since the car ride home after their date the other day. As he unfortunately suspected, it wasn't long before it faded, the two of them still in each other's eyes, holding hands, a ring on one of his fingers with one of two of hers.

  “I want to go lie down.” He let his smile die as he nodded, going to pull his hand away. She wouldn't let him. “N-no, please? I want you to-” he had to suppress the desire to interrupt with a naughty joke, “-hold me.” He was glad that he did, as he brought back an earnest and soft smile, touched by her honesty. By the apparent fact that, in him, she found security and comfort.

  “Certainly, ma'am.” He gave in a voice ever so slightly deeper and more gravelly than his natural tone, mimicking his servant that was a few decades their senior. She chuckled through her nose, her face taking on a look something a kin to sad humour.

  “Declan, please...”

  “Sorry... come.” He slowly began to rise, she too, as they headed for the hall hand-in-hand.

  “Shhhh...”

  “Mmh...” with his arms around her, her head pressed to his chest, his heavy arms felt reassuring as they wrapped around her. His head lowered, giving a kiss to the top of her head.

  “I have no idea... how I would have coped... being alone in this house.” She whispered. “There are memories everywhere... good and bad.”

  “Well, in this moment, I have little doubt that we're in the midst of a bad one. Hopefully my being here with you is helping to, if not lessen that negative burden on it, then at least give a tiny glimmer of good. A brightly coloured sea vessel, amidst the dark, churning and raging sea that is now.” His hand slowly stroked her hair, running down her back, sending shivers coarsing through her.

  “That was...” she sniffled. “Thank you...” she hugged the man tightly, her moans of grief beginning to resurface anew.

  “Shhhhhhh...” he whispered to her gently, holding her tight, though it weren't as tight as her modest arms that snaked around him. She held onto him as though she were a woman overboard clutching a lifesaver, lost in that black and raging sea that threatened to pummel her into the depths and suck the life out of her very lungs.

  “Shhhhh...” the man's head nuzzled into the side of her face, tenderly kissing one of her cheeks, and her response was so quick as to seem just as much out of desperation as it was out of love. She took his lips with her own, kissing him hungrily, thankfully, tears streaming down her face making their matching lips taste faintly of salt. Just as they would have had she been tossed and thrown and bludgeoned in the waves of the angered ocean.

  Chapter 9

  He found her bashfulness absolutely adorable. It had been a couple days, and more and more regularly they retreated to cuddling together, finding comfort and safety in her fiance's arms, yet she wished for more closeness. Perhaps a big to feel more of those lovely feelings in a time of emotional turmoil and grief and dread.

  It was he, as non-suspiciously as he could, who suggested the removal of their final articles of clothing. A slight hesitation, but ultimately she nodded. After a kiss on her forehead, he swung himself out of the bed, standing up be
side it as he turned to face her. She stayed.

  “Oh, just me?”

  “Um... n-no... I just...”

  “Ah, under the sheets?” She nodded in confirmation, followed by one from him in understanding. Repeatedly he tried to keep the thought in mind that it was not sexual, or at least that wasn't the purpose. She needs comfort, but some efforts to have sex with her, as often as that thought came to mind with all the time they spent together nearly naked. She still didn't start moving to remove her underwear, simply watching him as he gripped his own undergarments and slid them down his hairy legs. It was as though he could feel her staring as much as he could visibly see it. Her cheeks had already been a bit flush, yet they reddened even further.

  “If I didn't know any better,” he began, getting back to bed, his flaccid junk flopping about slightly, “I'd think you had never seen one of these before.” She blinked a couple times, then swallowed, silence between them all the while. By the time he came to rest before her, his vision steadying on her, it may as well have been written on her face.

  “You hadn't...” he muttered, and after a moment she gave a few slow nods, looking away from him. “Did you still want to, em, take it off? You don't have to.”

  “N-n-no... I-I...” seeing her so taken off-guard, even though he only did as she request, it made her view her at least in the moment as less of the big, tough, former-spinster suffragette and more of the young and sexually inexperienced woman that he had engaged, as it turns out. “I will.” She reached down, her body moving, and he could sense her scooting her panties off. She then began to try and reach behind herself.

  “Would you like me to help with it?” She paused, but nodded, turning around under the sheets to show her back to him. The thing holding it tightly onto her was a knot, and though they had both bathed a couple times since her mother's passing he noted that she never asked him to untie or tie it for her. Surely she couldn't do it herself, and when he had privately inquired Gerard about it he had denied being asked to assist.

  “How have you been managing to put it back on after the baths?”

  “I washed around it.”

  “I see. You could have asked for my help.” He grasped the two ends of soft string, pulling them to undo the knot, and the fabric already began to loosen.

  “Everything has been happening so quickly...” he pulled at the fabric on either side of the crisscrossing string, loosening it further. “... I didn't yet feel quite right... about letting a man undo me.”

  “Well I'm here for you now.”

  “It had always been mother...” his jaw clenched, he swallowed, as he watched her back bear itself to him as she pulled the bra up and over her head. The sheets were lifted up, covering her chest, and she moved to him.

  “Sorry.” She shook her head lightly, bringing her body close to his. Her hips twitched back as she felt his manhood directly against her skin, even though she had felt its bulge against her several times already, both soft and hard, but skin-to-skin... still, she brought her hips forth again, against him. “Does it feel strange?”

  “Well, it's not... hard... so-”

  “No, I meant lying in bed naked with a man.”

  “O-oh.”

  “It will likely harden again by the way... possibly soon.”

  “It's ok, um. Lying in bed naked with my fiance? Well, it's supposed to be quite natural, right?”

  “Some find it natural, others prefer to continue wearing underwear as they sleep.” She thought on this for a while. “I suspect it might be more of a modern thing.”

  “Perhaps.” She felt 'it' move slightly where it rest against her. A breath was taken in, a bit sharply.

  “I can put them on again if you pref-”

  “No, it's ok. I... this feels... well, it obviously feels quite... different... to me. Still, I find that... I don't know... it's like the combination of... vulnerability and... exposure? There's also, I mean... well... Declan you're not exactly a 'weak' man, nor a 'short' man by any measure.” It took time for her to find the right words, to sense her thoughts, to figure herself out and speak them articulately. “I kind of... like this.” It moved again against her. She felt her heart speeding up. “I-I... I think I like this... quite a lot.” Her arms were still at her chest, between them, but he hugged her tightly all the same.

  “I do too, but a fair warning, it's going to get hard again real soon.”

  “I kind of suspected such.”

  “Can't exactly blame me; having a beautiful and naked woman in my arms.” He smiled down at her, though she remained at his chest. She had no smile, she had remembered his honesty at the park, telling her that he'd been with a girl. Was she not beautiful? Was she naked? Was what he said indeed true? If so, his regular arousal whenever she was in his arms held more meaning. If not, well, how could it possibly be that he still merely wished to bed her and leave? There were more efficient ways of achieving that, surely, than engagement and expensive gifts. She did her best to put the thought out of her mind, and it wasn't particularly difficult as she felt the pressure with which his manhood pressed against her, increase. He hugged her more tightly, stroking her smooth, bare back.

  “Ohhh, this is so nice...” he sighed and whispered. She swallowed, and finally brought her protective arms away from her bare chest, wrapping them around him, feeling the coarse hairs of his manly chest against her sensitive and smooth one.

  “Y-yeah...” she could also feel, down below, his erect rod against her thighs attempting to rise so as to stand away from his body. It was pressed up against her thighs, bent down. She swallowed again, and rose her leg a little to allow it to move as it may. An ever-so-light gasp as she felt it press up against her bare sex. Emma felt the Duke's strength as he pulled her against him, one of his hands running down to her lower back, allowing him to pull her torso to him both from up high and down low. He pulled as his prick gave quite a throb, had his hips moved at all it could very well have been a thrust motion.

  “Declan...” she gave in another light gasp.

  “Sorr-”

  “Don't be. I just... wanted to say your name.”

  “Ohhh Emma...” he breathed down to her, that low hand growing lower, coming to her rear, and this time his hips did indeed make the slightest of pulls back before he pushed forth against her. He could feel hot breath on his chest as she gasped in and sighed out.

  “Oh, Declan...” faced without resistance, he freely grabbed and groped a taut, round ass cheek. Kneading it like how one of his servants might do with bread dough. He throbbed and twitched there between her thighs, up against her sex, where it quite quickly rose up between her moistened lips, snug along her slit where every twitch and movement brought pleasure to the poor girl. His prick soon glistened and glinted with her lubricating juices.

  His shaft grind against her folds. A warm and juicy, what was that obscene 'cuisine' of the Americans called? A 'hotdog'? The arm her head rest upon hugged her to him, stroking her arm as he kissed her hair, though he only got time for one peck. She quickly peered up at him, looking to him hungrily, and he quickly gave her something to taste as their lips met. Slow and passionate, one kiss after another, his pushed to hers, hers pushed to his in response. More and more frequent, more and more pressure, faster and faster.

  “Mmh...” he brought his hips back until only his head remained against her pussy, Mm!” Slap! Their hips impacted, the full length of him gliding along her slick slit. She moaned at his mouth as they kissed, their eyes closed, and she felt him rising, gently pushing her to her back, and though she enjoyed the pressure of her thighs pushing the cock against her she brought her right leg up to accept him. By the time he were on top of her, the left leg rest against his hip.

  “D-Declan.” She gave with a degree of alarm. He was reaching down, handling himself, ready to guide it in.

  “What, sweet Emma?” One of her hands rest on his cheek as she looked up to him, looking so vulnerable and exposed.

  “Go... slowl
y. Gently.” The hand at his manhood released for a moment, coming up to cradle her own cheek as he smile down at her, his erection twitching at her wetness none the less. Her eyes closed as she nuzzled her face against his comforting hand.

  “I had ever intention to do so, my love.” Her hand met his, holding it against her face, smiling softly. She felt his hips moving slightly, felt his tip moving and prodding along her sex, she clenched her jaw, eyes clamped shut as she felt that big, warm hand on her cheek. Her nervousness was clear, obvious. As the pressure of his knob mounted, pushing and pushing, her mouth opened and her eyebrows rose. A stuttered moan of discomfort and pain left her before the teeth clenched upon its initial penetration.

  “A-A-AHN! HNN! HNN!” Her face left his hand as her head shot back, eyes still closed, doing her best to deal with and handle the pain. Keeping her teeth clenched, she soon opened her eyes to peer up at him as he peered tenderly down at her.

  “Can you continue on?” He whispered to her, she swallowed.

  “V-very... slowly.” Her legs shivered against his hips, they tensed against him as he began pushing more deeply into her, her head craned back once more, teeth clenched, eyes shut tight.

  “Hnn... hnn... hnn...” she held onto the unseen man very tightly, doing her best to get past the pain. I would not be too long before the pain subsided, letting forth not just pleasure, but pleasure the likes she never knew existed.

  In the kitchen, Gerard turned his attention to the open doorway to the hall momentarily, an eyebrow raised. A brief pause. The eyebrow soon lowered as he walked with perfect posture to the door, casually closed it, and turned back to regard the preparations for the next meal once more. The grunts, moans, groans and squeaks that began to muffledly move through the halls went ignored almost entirely, save for a subtly upturned corner of lip in a cheeky, amused, perhaps even approving smirk.