The Awakening, Zuleika and the Barbarian (8 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance

BOOK: The Awakening, Zuleika and the Barbarian
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"Charles was always faithful to me," Marguerite said softly.

"I am glad," Renée answered her niece, knowing better but keeping silent. There was no need to spoil Marguerite's pure memories, for Lord Abbott had indeed loved his young wife. "I hope you will not feel guilty now that you have chosen to follow in my footsteps,
ma petite
. You were a good wife to your husband, but he is dead now. There is no law that says a widow must shut herself away for the remainder of her life. Particularly a young and beautiful widow."

"I liked the duke's kisses," Marguerite admitted, "and I will not feel sinful because of what I am doing."

"Good!" her aunt approved, and she stood up. "Go upstairs now,
chérie
. You have done very well. The gentlemen are all agog with your presence. They eagerly await their chance with you, but you do need to learn a few little tricks first." Renée kissed her niece on both cheeks as she drew the younger woman up from the settee.
"Bonsoir, ma petite."

"Bonsoir, tante,"
Marguerite responded, and she hurried from the salon and up the stairs. As she reached the next landing, Josie popped from her chamber and called to her.

"Marguerite, come a moment." Then she disappeared back into her room.

The inside of Josie's bedroom was the color of a seashell, all peachy pink with white and gold furnishings. And on the far wall of the room was an enormous bed, its headboard painted with all manner of nymphs and satyrs cavorting about, and its draperies of velvet, held with heavy gold cord. In the center of the bed the duke lay sprawled, quite naked. Josie was attired in little more than a diaphanous gauze robe. The air in the room was fragrant with lilies. A fire blazed in the fireplace, the flickering candles giving the chamber a soft golden glow. Marguerite stood frozen momentarily, like a deer caught by hunters. Her startled gaze was held by the duke's dark eyes.

"I want you to join us," he said quietly.

" I . . .
cannot,"
she half whispered.

"Of course you can," Josie said, slipping an arm about Marguerite's waist, her other hand stroking her friend's cheek soothingly. "It will be very nice, I promise you."

"I think I am afraid," Marguerite confessed, feeling her cheeks begin to burn. The duke's organ was . . . was . . . much larger than Charles's had been. Was he deformed? Or had her husband's member been small?

"You don't have to be fearful,
chérie,"
Josie answered her. "César really wants to fuck you. I thought that if you did it with a friend encouraging you this first time, it would be easier for you. After all, you've never whored before, and the first time is always the hardest. You don't have to if you really don't want to, but waiting for just the right moment seems rather foolish." Josie's hand rubbed the back of Marguerite's neck in a calming fashion.

"Would my
tante
object? Does she not want me to wait?"
Sacrebleu!
She couldn't take her eyes off the duke's cock. She was mesmerized by it.

"Madame is just being kind because she knows what a hard decision this has been for you, but she will not be angry if you leap boldly into these uncharted waters. Especially with César, and with me," Josie purred. "I can see that you are curious." Her fingers began to unfasten the little pearl buttons at the back of Marguerite's bodice. Drawing the garment quickly off, she lay it aside. Then she undid Marguerite's skirts, and they fell to the carpet with a soft whoosh. Smiling into her friend's eyes, Josie turned her head and kissed Marguerite's lips lightly. Then she took the other woman's hands and encouraged her to step from the puddle of fabric, but not before she had undone the tapes holding Marguerite's petticoats to her corset.

"Mon Dieu!"
Marguerite cried softly, realizing she was now wearing only her little brocaded corsets, stockings, garters, and slippers.

The duke arose from the bed, coming over to kiss the startled young woman softly. "You may go if you choose," he murmured in her ear. "Rape does not entice me,
mademoiselle."
Reaching down, he fondled her bare buttocks.

Marguerite swallowed hard. "But seduction is an entirely different thing, eh,
monseigneur?"
she returned. His big hand was warm against her skin.

He laughed softly.
"Mais oui,"
he agreed, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones.

"Don't you want to be fucked?" Josie asked. "You may take my word for it that César is very good at it. I will be here to comfort and aid you,
chérie."
Meeting no resistance, she began to unlace Marguerite's corset. When she had finished, she drew it off, crying out as she did, "Ohh, what pretty bubbies you have! Are they not quite the loveliest you have ever seen, César? They are so perfectly round, and will fit into your palms quite nicely." She took Marguerite's hand in hers. "Come along," Josie encouraged. "The bed is more than big enough for the three of us."

Marguerite's eyes went to the bed. She swallowed hard again. She knew that if she decided at this very moment to leave Josie's room, the duke would not protest her going. He would bide his time, and Renée would be patient with her. Yet what was to be gained by waiting? She was either going to follow in her aunt's footsteps, or she was going to let Renée purchase that damned cottage in Brittany. And what would be there for her in Brittany? A respectable marriage? With whom? Some local landowner who needed an unpaid servant to raise his children? A retired officer with a pension barely enough to cover his own needs, let alone a wife? Or would she remain here in Paris and become a courtesan?

"Do you know how exciting you are standing there in your little slippers and black stockings?" the duke asked her. He knelt and, unfastening her garters, rolled the stockings off her legs and over each foot. Then his hands closed about her buttocks, and he buried his face in her thick, dark bush.

Marguerite's eyes widened in surprise. A small noise, not quite a gasp and not quite a cry, escaped her.

"I would tell him to behave himself," Josie chuckled, "but alas, Marguerite, he doesn't know how. Let us get on the bed now, or he will kneel there all night with his head in your pussy." She drew her companion over to the bed and, climbing onto it, pulled Marguerite with her.

Stay or go?
the voice in her head asked. But it was too late now to go, she decided. Josie had settled herself with several large pillows behind her back. She had drawn Marguerite up between her plump thighs and was starting to fondle her breasts while she murmured endearments to her friend. "You've never been touched by a woman, have you,
chérie?
But it is nice, isn't it? We are not rough with each other. Ahh,
chérie
, what soft skin you have!" The duke joined them, almost crawling up from the foot of the bed and kneeling before the two women, enchanted by the tableau they offered.

"Spread your legs for him,
chérie,"
Josie said low in Marguerite's ear. "If you do, he will do something very nice to you, I promise." She kissed her friend's ear, her tongue teasing it for a brief moment.

Fascinated, Marguerite complied with the request. It was all so very strange, but Josie's gentle voice and hands were mesmerizing. She was beginning to feel quite languorous. Why wasn't she embarrassed? Or at least ashamed? But she wasn't. Josie continued to play with her breasts, and her voice was somehow reassuring. Marguerite watched the duke, who sat back on his heels, staring at the space between her open legs for what seemed to be a very long moment. Then he spoke.

"Show me your treasures,
chérie,"
he said. "Take your fingers, and draw your nether lips apart for me. Yes. That is it. Now keep them just as you are doing. Do not move unless I tell you. You have no idea how beautiful you are there. I have never seen such perfection." He moved himself forward, and she suddenly felt him stroking her with something.

"Mon Dieu!"
she cried out, realizing he was licking at her with his tongue.
"What are you doing!"
She tried to struggle, but his hands gripped her hips tightly.

"Stay still!"
he growled at her.

"It's all right,
chérie,"
Josie assured her. "Do not be afraid. Close your eyes, and feel how nice it is. A man with a facile tongue is truly a blessing, and César is quite expert at what he does."

Ignoring every instinct she had, Marguerite forced her eyes to close, and tried to relax once more. There were so many sensations. Josie's hands were lovely as they fondled and played with her flesh. The duke's tongue was indeed skilled at sending thrills throughout her entire body. It was all so very wicked. Yet she could not help herself. She was actually beginning to enjoy these carnal attentions, she realized. Then his tongue found her love button. Once Charles had touched her there. It had been heavenly, but Charles had said afterward that a good woman should not react in such an enthusiastic fashion as she had. He had never again touched her there. She knew now, however, that showing unbridled excitement for her two companions would please them greatly.

"Mon Dieu!"
she moaned as his wicked tongue flicked relentlessly back and forth over her sentient flesh. This was divine! This was what she had always wanted. And then she was overwhelmed with a wave of delight that filled her from her toes to the top of her head.
"Mais oui! Mais oui!"
she cried excitedly.

"Ohh,
chérie
, that is so good, isn't it? I can see you are quite ready. Tell him you want to be fucked, Marguerite! Tell him!"

"He knows!" she heard herself cry out. She opened her eyes and smiled boldly at César d'Aubert.

Immediately the duke mounted her, his member penetrating her enthusiastically as Josie continued to hold her against her ample breasts. His big cock filled her, and sent her senses reeling. It was wonderful, and she couldn't get enough of him. Within moments she was coming, her juices flowing, her body quivering, but the duke was not yet satisfied. He gently pushed her aside, pistoning Josie until the fiery-headed girl was crying with her own pleasure and the duke was momentarily satisfied. They lay together in a tangle of arms and legs as at last their breathing quieted. And then there was silence.

Finally Josie jumped up from the bed, walking saucily across her bedchamber, her cone-shaped breasts bouncing. "We need some wine," she said. She poured two goblets, took a sip from one, and then brought them over to the bed where the duke and Marguerite still lay. "I must bathe quickly and get back to the salon,
chéries
. We have a full house tonight. It will not do for me to leave Leonie with all the gentlemen." She hurried over to a basin, poured water into it, and taking up a soft cloth, began to wash herself. "Always after a bout of Eros,
chérie,"
she instructed Marguerite. "After all, you have to remember that you'll be entertaining more than one gentleman of an evening, and they all love a pretty pussy. You don't want to leave any reminders of a past liaison,
ma petite."

Marguerite gazed at her wide-eyed as Josie nattered on. She watched as the duke casually got up from the bed to help Josie with her laces and her buttons. Then as she was leaving her bedroom, Josie gave her friend a wink.

"Take her upstairs, César. I'll need my bed again soon enough," and she was gone out the door humming.

Finishing her wine, Marguerite arose from the bed. "The maid will straighten the bed," she said.

"Of course. I will have her bring your garments upstairs." He pulled her into his embrace. "You were quite delicious,
ma petite
. Almost uninhibited, I think. I am going to teach you a great deal, and I shall enjoy doing it. Now run along, and get some rest. I shall tell Madame that we have made a nice beginning. Next time, however, I want the entire night, and I want you all to myself. Do you understand,
chérie? "

"Give me my petticoat,
Monsieur le Duc
. I cannot walk naked through the corridor," she said.

"Why not?" he demanded, leering just slightly.

"Because my maid and her husband share the top floor with me, and I would not embarrass Louis by appearing
au natural."

"You are such a lady, Marguerite, I wonder if we will ever make a good whore of you," the duke noted as he handed her her garment.

"You claim to be an excellent teacher,
monsieur
. Let us see what you can do with me. I am now curious to try the other gentlemen, you see, so you cannot take forever."

He grinned at her. "Perhaps you do have possibilities,
mademoiselle
. We shall see."

"Bonsoir, monsieur,"
she told him, and then hurried from Josie's bedchamber upstairs to her own room.

There she found Clarice awaiting her, asleep in her chair. She awoke her maidservant, instructing her, "Find Louis, and have him fetch me water for a bath."

Clarice nodded, but said nothing. Her disapproving glare was more than enough for Marguerite. I will be damned if I am going to argue with her, Marguerite thought. She knows our situation. Did she really expect me to change my mind, and continue to live off my aunt's generosity? I am no longer a child! She climbed into her bed while Clarice set up the porcelain hipbath.

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