The Theft of a Dukedom (20 page)

Robin Stafford had been tupping the Duchess of
Albany for a few weeks. She was insatiable and the
most daring bedmate he’d ever had. She’d made Connie
Beresford seem like a common whore. Their last joining
was poignant, because she told him her husband was
back in London and she would have to be the Duchess
now.

He’d gone to her Hanover Square mansion, let
himself in the servant’s entrance, as usual and crept up
the stairs. His heart had pounded in his chest just seeing
the strip of light under her door. Carefully he opened
the door to see her sat at the dressing table in the most
erotic night gown he’d ever seen. It was made of some
filmy black gossamer, through which her body shined
like a beacon. The garment actually covered every inch
of her body, except for her hands and face. She looked
up at his reflection in the mirror and smiled in welcome.
Her indigo blue eyes appearing almost black in the
candle light that flickered over her dark sable hair,
making it almost as black as the gown. Unlike most of
the women of the
haute ton
, Harriet had board straight
hair and as she stroked the brush down it one final time,
it shone.

‘You’re early.’ She murmured as she placed the
silver backed brush carefully on the glass cover of her
dressing table. ‘I hoped to be ready when you got here.’

‘Ready, how?’ Robin croaked as his penis swelled
to fill his britches.
She turned on the seat, still smiling. ‘You should
have some brandy for that frog in your throat.’ And got
gracefully to her feet.
Harriet Farrington was taller than was
fashionable and her head came to Robin’s chin. Her
height gave her a willowy grace, that was seldom
ignored and his heart pounded just a little bit harder as
she reached for the decanter on the nightstand. She
delicately poured a substantial amount into a bulbous
snifter and gracefully turned to hand him the glass.
Robin gulped as her body was revealed through
the gossamer of her gown. As he took the drink his
fingertips caressed one dusky nipple through the
material. ‘Ready, how?’ he asked again in a whisper.
She smiled softly and replied. ‘Finish your drink,
while you get undressed.’ And turned away towards the
bed.
Robin jerked the contents of the glass down his
throat, almost choking as it seared his gullet and
exploded in the pit of his stomach. Then he tore the
cravat from his neck, shrugged his jacket off his
shoulders and ripped his shirt open and pulled it over
his head. As he sat down on a delicate ladies chair to
remove his boots, Harriet climbed onto the bed, where
a lantern pooled light over the silk sheet. The silk
encased pillows were piled against the ornate
headboard and the whole bed had been scattered with
red rose petals. Harriet settled herself in the middle of
the pool of light, relaxed against the pillows, lifted one
knee and smiled invitingly at Robin. She promptly
stretched her arms wide and slipped her hands through
the slipknots in the silk ribbons attached to the
bedposts, jerking her hands she was captured of her
own volition and again she smiled at Robin’s hot, hungry
expression as he dropped his britches, revealing his
enormous erection.
‘Are you hungry, My Lord?’ Harriet asked
without taking her gaze away from that pulsing shaft of
rigid flesh. Robin wasn’t as tall as his father, but he was
still nearly six foot in his bare feet, his musculature was
thick and stocky, his barrel chest covered in a thick layer
of coarse light hair and his abdomen was chunky
without being fat. In the lamp light his muscles rolled
under his skin like a well trained race horse.
‘Ravenous, Your Grace.’ Robin murmured as he
approached the bed.
‘Then I think you should restrain my feet and we
can proceed.’ She said hoarsely as she opened her legs.
Robin gently took her first ankle and slipped the
silk strap over it, before he jerked it tight and stroked
her foot. He moved to the other side, gently lifted her
foot and did the same and then he straightened her
gown. She was spread-eagled on the silk covered bed.
‘The knife is on the table.’ She whispered.
‘It seems such a shame to destroy such a
fabulous gown.’ He murmured as he turned for the
dressing table and picked up the wickedly curved dagger
that sat there.
‘I can buy another one.’ She said as he turned
towards her and the lamp light flashed on the blade.
‘Yes, I suppose you can.’ Robin said as he rested
the blade on her ankle and she gasped in a sudden
explosion of air. ‘But, before I slice your gown off, I
would like to indulge myself.’
‘I’m hardly in a position to stop you.’ she said
throatily. Robin left the dagger lying next to her ankle
and instead he slowly stroked his fingertips over her
entire body. He crouched over her as he investigated
every shadow and crevice. He delicately stroked his
finger around the swell of her breast and then dipped
his head and tormented the extremely puckered nipple
through the sheer cloth covering it. He sucked it, licked
it and nipped it, making Harriet moan and writhe before
he gave the other one his attention. Slowly he traced his
fingers down to the apex of her thighs and did much the
same thing. He could see her arousal glistening before
he even touched her. He traced his tongue over the line
of her cleft, feeling the tremor of desire shudder
through her frame.
‘You realise I could cut you?’ He whispered
against her weeping sex.
‘Yes.’ She gasped. ‘I won’t hold it against you.’
Robin climbed briskly off the bed. ‘Then let me
reveal you in all your glory.’ He said firmly and picked up
the knife. He held the fragile material taut and skimmed
the blade of the knife up the centre of the gown. The
gossamer cloth parted silently to fall away from her
body. Robin followed it onto the bed, kneeling between
her outstretched legs. He stopped as he reached the
ribbon of her bodice and manoeuvred himself over her
torso. Carefully he cut the ribbon under her breasts and
continued right up under her chin. As the point pricked
her skin she gasped and lifted her hips. Without an
apology, Robin continued to slice the gown off her until
she was completely nude. He lifted her up and slid the
remains of the gown out from under her body and
threw it on the floor.
‘Now, Your Grace, what would you have me do?’
He asked in a very sultry voice, ‘be specific? I cannot do
what you want if you don’t tell me explicitly.’
Harriet was on the verge of an orgasm just
waiting for his touch on her bare skin. ‘Anything!’ she
gasped, ‘just do something before I expire!’
Robin didn’t reply, instead he lay down between
her spread thighs, on his side with his head resting on
her thigh and stroked his finger over her sex. Her hips
rose as she begged again. ‘Please?’ Slowly he inserted a
finger inside her throbbing vagina, feeling his manhood
throb in response. He clutched his penis in his hand and
slowly masturbated as he eased his finger out again and
smoothed her arousal fluid over her clitoris, making her
moan and beg again ‘Please?!’ As he slipped two fingers
inside her, he stroked his tongue lazily over her clitoris
and emulating intercourse, he thrust his fingers in and
out of her until they climaxed. Her hips were bucking, as
her vagina convulsed and gripped his fingers, as his
sperm spewed over the silk sheets.
Leaving his fingers in situ, Robin slowly climbed
over her body until he could give her breasts all the
attention they needed. He licked, sucked and kissed
them. ‘You really do have beautiful breasts.’ He
murmured and then engulfed her right nipple, sucking
so hard, she moaned. He knew it would take him a while
to recover, before he could take her properly, but this
way was better, then he had total control inside her. If
he left it, he would ejaculate too quickly and spoil it for
her.
‘Fuck me, Robin?’ She murmured and he felt a
spike of arousal straight in his groin.
‘I intend to, my sweet, just be patient.’ He
moved his fingers and made her gasp. His manhood was
already at half mast, so it wouldn’t take much longer.
He returned his attention to her sex and slowly
removed his fingers, before he lightly licked her from
vagina to clitoris and back again.
‘Yes!’ she gasped as her hips rose again.
When his throbbing penis was erect, he slowly
moved over her body and rested his penis at the
entrance to her. ‘Do you want this?’ he asked
provocatively.
‘Yes.’ She whispered and looked him straight in
the eyes. ‘More than anything!’
‘How would you like it, Your Grace?’ he
murmured. ‘Hard and fast or slow and tender?’
‘Both or either,’ she gasped as she tried to move,
‘I don’t care which! Only fuck me, Robin!’ she almost
screamed.
Robin thrust into her with no finesse
whatsoever, and proceeded to fuck her as if she was a
common whore. His buttocks flexed with his haste and
the force he used. Harriet was alive under him as he
stroked in and out of her body. She grunted with each
thrust in and whimpered at each withdrawal, Robin
thought she sounded like a pair of rusty bellows. Her
first orgasm took him by surprise, as he had barely
entered before she was convulsing, but he gave no
quarter and continued to thrust harshly. He could feel
his testicles cramping and tried to hang onto his control.
‘Come for me!’ he demanded brutally and slipped his
hand between them, tormenting her clitoris until her
next orgasm exploded like a tropical storm making her
scream. He ejaculated in a rush of hot semen, his rigid
body shuddering at the force of his climax. As his body
relaxed, he looked down on the woman tied beneath
him, to see wonder on her face and tears on her cheeks.
‘That...’ she gulped for breath, ‘...was fantastic.’
Robin kissed her gently as he reached for the
ties. Carefully he released the bonds on her wrists,
gently rubbing the marks made by the ribbon. ‘I aim to
please. Madam.’ He whispered as he laid his face in her
hair.
‘Oh! Robin!’ burst from her. ‘I’m going to miss
you.’ she whispered in his ear.
He jerked his head up to look down on her. ‘Miss
me?’ he frowned. ‘Where am I going?’
She lightly stroked her fingers over his brow.
‘Our time is at an end. My husband is due back
tomorrow and I won’t have anymore freedom.’
‘No!’ he almost shouted, pulled himself out of
her body abruptly and climbed off the bed. ‘You can’t.’
He said as he released her feet.
The turmoil that statement caused Robin was
immense. His emotions, the ones he wasn’t supposed to
have, were roiling as he reached for the brandy
decanter and splashed some of the amber liquid into his
glass and drank it straight down as he perched on the
counterpane.
‘He’s my husband, Robin.’ Harriet said as she
curled on her side. ‘I have no choice. I’m his property.’
‘What if I’ve made you pregnant?’ he demanded
with all ducal arrogance.
‘Then my husband will claim it as his own and if
it is a son it will be a ducal heir.’
Robin was already shaking his head. ‘No, Harry, I
cannot allow it.’ He slammed the glass down and turned
to her, gathering her up in his arms. ‘You’re mine. My
soul mate.’ He buried his face in her hair. ‘The only
woman I’ve ever loved.’
‘It doesn’t matter if you love me, I cannot
divorce him. I can’t do anything.’ She sobbed.
‘Do you love me?’ he asked in a little boy voice
that made her heart turn over.
‘You know I do.’ She whispered and lifted his
head off her shoulder to softly kiss him. ‘Nobody has
ever made love to me like you do and I find the thought
of making love with my husband a most unpleasant
prospect.’
‘Is he brutal?’ Robin asked harshly.
She shook her head slowly, ‘No, not brutal.
Inconsiderate, selfish, bland even.’ She sniffed. ‘He
takes his pleasure and then goes. He leaves me
frustrated and feeling unclean, as if I’m a brood mare
and he’s doing his ducal duty to beget an heir but finds
the process distasteful.’
‘Then I hope I’ve made you pregnant. Because
then he will have no need to take you again.’
‘Now it’s your turn.’ Harriet said as she sat up.
Robin willingly moved to the centre of the bed
and Harriet trussed his wrists in the ribbons. ‘Are you
comfortable?’ she asked softly. When he nodded she
smiled. ‘Then we shall begin.’ She said and gently placed
her palm over his manhood. Slowly she stroked her
hand over his testicles and penis, watching with a soft
smile as it hardened and lengthened dramatically. She
clasped her fingers around the girth and stroked him, up
and down from base to crest, gently squeezing her
fingers at the top. Robin stared her in the eyes and
writhed in ecstasy, but his breath was halted in his
throat as she dipped her head and sucked on the head
of his penis while she continued with her ministrations.
With her knelt over his groin and her perfect
bottom sitting on her feet, she looked like an ancient
sex goddess. He closed his eyes as the exquisite suction
brought him to another orgasm. He felt his testicles
cramp and murmured ‘...you should move your face...’
as his body started to lift and jerk, she sat back on her
feet and watched him ejaculate over his abdomen and
chest, continuing to massage his manhood slowly until it
was soft and quiet.
She retrieved the ruined gossamer gown from
the rich Aubusson carpet and wiped the sticky residue
from Robin’s heaving chest. Slowly she slid her body
over his, until she was lying on him and she wooed his
body with gentle kisses and soft caresses, until his mast
rose again. She felt it twitch against her stomach and
smiled wickedly at him. ‘My! It seems as if something is
waking up.’ Slowly she slid her body down his, until her
face was over his groin and slowly she sucked and licked
his testicles, before she licked his engorged penis.
There is nothing in the world that beats a
beautiful woman sucking your cock!
Robin thought
salaciously and gasped as she climbed onto her knees
and straddled his hips. He groaned as he felt the soft,
slick heat of her cleft as she slid it along the length of his
erection, before she took him in her hand and guided
him into nirvana. He watched the ecstasy on her face as
she slowly lifted and sank on his throbbing shaft. Again
her orgasm was violent as she collapsed onto his chest
murmuring, ‘Oh! My love, that was sublime.’
‘I’m so glad you enjoyed it!’ the Duke of Albany
said as he strode across the room. ‘You’ll get to enjoy
the rest too!’ he spoke viciously as he grabbed Harriet
by the hair and wrenched her body off Robin’s softening
manhood. Albany looked at Robin, trussed up and
smiled evilly. ‘And you can watch, you bastard!’
Robin bucked and shouted, making his wrists
bleed with his desperation to get off the bed, but the
ribbons were too strong even for him. He watched in
fascinated horror as Albany raped and beat his wife,
until she was a trembling mass of bruised, bloody flesh.
He stood over her battered body as he calmly
folded up the bloodstained flap of his britches.
‘I think I’ve been a little remiss with you, my
dear. I didn’t realise you were into bondage. I’ll have to
get something sorted out for tomorrow night.’ He
looked speculatively at his bleeding wife. ‘Perhaps a
punishment frame would suit?’ He laughed coarsely. ‘I
might even be able to find a cat to go with it!’
‘I’ll kill you!’ Robin said from the bed.
Albany looked at him coldly. ‘You’ve done
enough already. But don’t worry; you and I will decide
this tomorrow morning in the park. Pistols at six, by
Lancaster Gate.’ He slammed the door on his way out.
Robin tried again to get free, but every time he pulled
on the ribbons, the silk just tightened and his hands
were turning black from lack of circulation.