Page 14 of A Tale of Two Dukes

I yearn.

I crave.

Wrapping his arms around me even tighter, he deepens the kiss, completely controlling me with his lips. He groans against me as his tongue laps at me, demanding entrance. I open with a gasp, my body trembling as he forces his way in.

I cannot resist him, and for these fleeting moments, I don’t want to. I’m no longer that prim, proper lady needing to save herself for a husband who showed no interest in her. Instead, I’m a woman of the night, a denizen of darkness.

At least, that’s the lie I tell myself to remain pliant in his arms. I will never be those things. Not until someone teaches me. Even now, as I tangle my tongue with his, I feel inept, unskilled. However, if I displease him with my lack of knowledge, he doesn’t show it.

A dark growl that turns my insides into mush rattles through me, making my knees weak. He holds me up, but the sound is relentless. Soon, he breaks away, his eyes dark and feral as he stares down at me.

“I want you all to myself tonight, and since I cannot kick that infernal Hugh out of this damned club, I’ll have to improvise.” Whirling me back around, he grabs me, slamming my back against his chest. “Mine.”

The word hangs in the air as everyone stares up at him, their jaws dropping. Did he just claim me? What does this mean? I don’t even have time to process what’s happening before the duke’s touch changes.

He tugs at the strings keeping my petticoat firmly about my hips, wrenching the back apart. Next, he grabs at the flimsy pieces of fabric resting on shoulders, keeping the whole thing in place. I want to cry out, to mourn the loss of yet another piece of clothing as he tears it from my body.

As much as I would like to play the proper lady and say that his actions have no effect on me, I cannot. It would be a most scandalous lie. Every piece he tears from me only causes more wetness to gather between my thighs.

So many questions flit through my mind. So much confusion whirls through me, leaving me breathless. I still don’t understand anything. Desire it as I do, I cannot understand what it is I want.

I stand here at the cusp, desperate to push through, yet scared of the other side. His growl continues to vibrate across my skin, making me quake. But it’s not fear that drives my body so. It’s that unnamable sensation that rolls through me, robbing my ability to think.

I want more, crave more. This animalistic dance between us is the only thing stilling my mind, keeping it far from the man who watches us with dark intent glimmering in his eyes. It’s my protection, a shield from the twin that threatens to devour me.

The duke’s fingers are rough and demanding as he attacks my stays, ripping the strings apart as if they are nothing. With that cast to the side, all I’m left in are my shift and stockings. A cool breeze brushes against the thin fabric, causing my nipples to jut out for all to see.

“Now then, strumpet,” he growls into my ear. “Time for me to see this delectable body of yours.”

Turning me in his grasp, he gathers the front of my shift into his hands, watching me as he tears the fabric in two, rending it down the middle. Unable to help myself, I clasp my bare breasts, unease warring against the heat flooding my body.

“Now, now, no need to play coy.” With a simple, fluid movement, he grabs my wrists and pulls my hands away from my body. “I’m not a man who needs false virginity to get hard. Come, let me see you. All of you.”

Forcing my hands to rest at my sides, I squeeze my eyes shut as the shift falls to the floor. I brace myself, waiting for the duke’s strong hands to pull my stockings off, leaving me as naked as the day I was born. But he doesn’t.

I crack an eye open and look up at him, taking in his amused expression. “My stockings, Your Grace? If you wish to see all of me, those impede your vision.”

“Not at all. What I wish to see is already bare. Now turn for me, put on a show for everyone here in attendance.”

Bollocks. I allow the only curse word I know to flit through my head. I had forgotten anyone else existed. But now that I’m fully aware, lurid sounds greet my ears. I ease around, my eyes widening at the shocking, erotic display before me.

Women ride men just as skillfully as one astride a horse. Women take to the floor, sinking to their knees as they swallow large rods into their mouths. This is what he will want from me. This is what I will have to do.

The knowledge slams into me as I stand there, motionless. I know he wants me to turn, but I find that I cannot move. I’m affixed there, my mind drinking in all the revelry, hiding it away for future use.

My eyes continue to rove around the scene. Those men not in possession of a woman still watch, their hands moving up and down, squeezing and twisting in some cases. It’s all too much. And then my gaze lands back on Mr. Beaumont.

He’s one of the few who simply reclines there, his arms folded as he watches. He seems to harbor no such compulsion to touch himself, though his member stands as firm as any prow, while my body stands there on display. Leaning forward, he steeples his fingers and rests his chin against them, his eyes not missing anything.

“Such a beautiful arse,” I hear the duke mumble behind me. “I cannot wait to put my mark upon it.” At those words, Mr. Beaumont straightens up, seemingly more interested in the exchange between us.

“Y- you wish to brand me, Your Grace?” His fingers dig into my shoulders as he turns me back around.

“Does the thought of that make your pussy cry out? Do you want a hot iron against your immaculate flesh?”

“No!” I cry out, forgetting to temper my tone.

“Easy, love,” he chuckles, the hot gust of air fanning against my body. “Such permanent alteration would only be allowed by Madame Douler herself. So for now, you are safe.”