Page 12 of A Tale of Two Dukes

And yet, as I pull away from her delicious quim, something inside tells me I’m wrong. I cannot allow myself to become infatuated with this girl, even though all I want to do is chain her down, flogging her until I know exactly what her skill level is.

I want to train her, mold her, turn her into the perfect vessel for my use… But then, the rational part of my brain screams at me, demanding I see reason. She works at a brothel, The Rose and Thorne of all places. There’s no way in all of Christendom that I can tailor her, personalize her.

After my conquest tonight, she’ll be with some other gentleman who might have vastly different tastes than my own. Hell, who knows what other training, which she withholds from me in the most maddening way, she’s already had. With a sigh, I draw back and stand her upright. The instant her face lifts back to the crowd, she freezes.

Again, I watch as Hugh prowls forward, his glare intent upon her. He thinks to ruin my night with his presence. Smirking, I reach up and curl my fingers back around Kitty’s neck and pull her against my chest.

Through her back, I can feel the vibrations of her fear. There’s something about that man that quite literally terrifies her. I wonder what it is? Has he harmed her in some way previous to tonight? But then, Madame Douler would not allow him to stay. That is, she wouldn’t if she valued her other customers and the well-being of her girls.

It can’t be that. It must be something else. But what? However, it’s impossible to think clearly as she squirms within my grasp. Holding her firmly against me, I keep one hand wrapped around her neck, keeping track of her pulse. The other, I slide around her waist, anchoring her against me.

Leaning down, I graze her ear with my nose, letting my hot breath wash across her skin. “Just breathe, love,” I murmur, dropping a few kisses behind her ear. “He cannot touch you while you’re in my grasp. Understand?”

She moves to nod, but I tighten my grip around her throat. “Words, strumpet.” Again, her body tenses, as if the word is distasteful to her. Strange. I file it away for future pondering. “I will not have you disrespect me with movements.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she stammers out. “I understand.” The uncertainty in tone draws precum up my shaft until I have no other recourse but to grind my cock against her backside, groaning in her ear.

“Watch him. Keep your eyes trained on him. Show him you have no fear. Not with me guarding you.”

In small, incremental movements, she straightens her shoulders. So there is a spine buried somewhere deep within her core. Smiling, I rest my head next to hers and watch Hugh as well. There’s something dark and menacing in his gaze as he trains his eyes on us.

Whatever shall I do? Plans flit through my skull as I stare at the man. He’s not proven himself a traitor. Not yet, at least. But I will have to keep my eye on him. No doubt rotten fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.

But more than that, I cannot abide the absolute terror I felt in her limbs as she stood in front of him. Even as I whisked her away, it took her time to relax. Something about him frightens her, and I plan to explore that in great depth. Leaning back, I think through my options.

Would it really be some great hardship to keep a mistress? Especially one as potentially pliant and trainable as Kitty? Again, I glance between the two, noting the lock of wills.

There’s something going on between them. I can feel it in my gut. And, if I am to keep my enemies closer, as they say, then she might be the perfect little morsel to dangle in front of him.

“Do not move,” I breathe into her ear, delighting in the shiver that ripples down her spine.

Taking the knife back in hand, I slide the pointed tip along the column of her neck. Not nearly hard enough to mar the skin, yet enough so she feels the lethality that hovers so close to her body. She turns ramrod, every inch of her freezing in place.

Well, she can certainly obey. That’s something she’s got going for her. Moving to the back of her dress, I lay the knife against the fabric, pausing to listen to her breathing. It’s shallow, frantic, and altogether the most erotic sound I’ve heard in quite a while.

The first button pops off and clatters to the floor. The poor little dove jerks at the sound. Pulling my knife away, I wait for her to settle before doing the next. Over and over, we play this game until every last button is removed from her person.

Skimming my hands under the rich fabric, I touch her warm skin. Her body ripples under my touch. From there, it takes small work to push the dress down and allow her to step out. Next is her petticoat.

Since I cannot see her face, I must rely on both the reactions of the crowd and her body to tell me what she’s thinking and feeling. The people in the room smile and nod, delighting in her curves. Kitty, on the other hand, is anything but happy or relaxed.

Scenting the air, I don’t detect even a hint of terror, and yet, she cannot seem to sink into my touch. She holds herself stiff, aloof, nothing at all like a girl bent on pleasing her master. Instead, her breaths come in punctuated gasps as she locks eyes with Hugh.

So many things about her are at odds and I cannot put the pieces together. My mind whirls, questioning everything. And yet, the moment a concern flashes through my mind, I’m overwhelmed by the scent of her arousal. It’s as if I’ve never bedded a woman before.

It must be some spell this vixen weaves around me. But I find that I no longer care. I simply want to lose myself in her body, to learn her secrets in a more intimate way. It’s so easy to put aside ill feelings of foreboding when faced with the promise of pleasure she brings.

I can rest at ease knowing there must be something else causing the discrepancies. It has to be something else. Again, my gaze locks on Hugh as a growl vibrates in my chest.

He’s the only thing different. No doubt she’s so distracted by him she cannot submit as she’s trained to do. Grabbing Kitty by the shoulders, I spin her around so that she can no longer look upon the odious man causing her trepidation.

“Speak to me,” I murmur, hovering my lips above hers. “What is he to you?”

“N- nothing. I know nothing of him.”

Frowning, I jerk back. “You lie.”

“In truth,” she begs, her voice earnest. “Tonight is my first time meeting him.”