To her consternation, the duke leaned in and kissed her hair lightly at one temple, breathing in her scent as he did so and causing Rose’s own breath to catch in her throat in a sound that was almost a whimper.
“I would not suppose otherwise,” he said, kissing her other temple. “Still, you have not answered my question. Did you like the book, Rose?”
Rose could not help wriggling again although she was no longer really thinking of escape, only bewilderment at the sensations in her own body.
“I only just began this book when you came in,” she whispered. “I liked it better than the first one I saw.”
“Which book was that?” Dorian whispered in her ear, his tongue flickering lightly there.
“The one with Captain Henri and all his different wives,” Rose admitted, feeling now as though her entire body was blushing. “He was not so handsome as Lord Basington and I did not understand some of his story.”
Her husband laughed softly and reached up a hand to caress Rose’s face, as though confident now that his captive would not attempt to break loose without restraint.
“Well, if you like the opening of Lord Basington’s tale, then let us read further together,” he proposed and took the book from Rose’s unresisting hands. “Had he met hiscontessabefore I interrupted you?”
Rose nodded and the duke’s lips brushed hers lightly as he flicked through the first pages, stopping at the third illustrationwhen Rose nodded again. Dorian regarded the scene on the page with deep interest and then looked back at Rose.
“I believe that Contessa Teresa’s breasts are not half as beautiful as yours, Rose,” he observed. “Did you know that?”
She gave an involuntary squeak as the duke’s hand lightly brushed her bosom through the blue wool dress and explored the buttons at its front. A moment later he was deftly unfastening them with only one hand and then opening her bodice completely.
“Do not be afraid, Rose,” he assured her. “I would do nothing you do not enjoy.”
Her breasts now naked and fondled gently in Dorian’s warm hand as he began to read from the book held in his other hand, Rose could only moan her understanding. Why did feel so good to be touched by this man, even in this indecent manner? At this moment, she could not imagine how anything he did could be less than enjoyable.
“‘…until that moment, I had not realized the physical effect that contact with the beauties of a naked woman would have on my own…’” the Duke of Ravenhill read aloud and laughed softly under his breath before kissing Rose again, deeply this time, his tongue briefly demanding admission to her mouth.
When that kiss ended, Dorian was breathing as hard as Rose but still continued with the story, which had now reached a pointwhere Lord Basington and his bewitchingcontessawere both naked on her great four-poster bed.
“…when she opened her thighs, I saw for the first time the greatest charm and source of delight that a woman possesses and a man desires…” he read aloud.
“Oh Dorian!” Rose moaned, squirming with pleasure and confusion.
Having left her well-caressed breasts, the duke’s hand had slipped down to very deliberately stroke Rose’s leg through her dress and then slide underneath its hem. Ankle to knee and then further up Rose’s thigh, Dorian’s fingers slid over her smooth stocking, past her garter and then came to rest on the nest of golden fur between her thighs.
“The greatest charms and source of delight that a woman possesses and a man desires,” he murmured into Rose’s ear before capturing her lips again in a luscious kiss. “How lovely you feel here, Rose. How soft and wet and womanly.”
The Duke of Ravenhill’s fingers were now actually running the length of her humid slit, dabbling inside folds that felt swollen and sensitive to his surely-improper exploration, and then deliberately caressing the swollen nub at the top. Rose could feel her body grown every bit as soft and slippery as her husband described.
What was he doing to her? Rose did not know but it felt wonderful, and shocking and her breath was coming in rhythmic pants and moans.
“How pretty your sweet face looks right now, Rose,” Dorian told her, his voice sounding lower and rougher. “Shall I carry on reading? Do you want to hear of Lord Basington’s first mounting of a woman and Contessa Teresa’s enjoyment of his vigorous young body?”
Rose writhed with pleasure on her husband’s lap, feeling something hard now beneath her hip. Was this the strange organ that both Captain Henri and Lord Basington possessed? Would the duke take it out and show it to her?
Ever stronger thrills passed through Rose’s body as Dorian continued his intimate stroking. It felt as though two of his fingers were actually somehow inside her now, even while his thumb kept up its regular motion on that one impossibly pleasurable spot.
“Or would you like me to stop?” he suggested teasingly, making Rose cry out in incoherent protest and turn pleading eyes to her husband’s handsome face. “Tell me what you desire, Rose.”
What did he want from her? The ever-more prominent swelling rubbing against her summoned back the image of Captain Henri and his Spanish wife.
I cannot wait…You must give it to me right now…
Rose shuddered, almost choking on the sensations flooding her body. That was what her husband wanted. He wanted her to say something like Lucia, to ask for whatever it was that Captain Henri had provided. Yet Rose had sworn not to ask Dorian for anything, hadn’t she? She could not surrender to him now, however much she wanted to.
With a loud series of cries, gasps and whimpers, a crescendo of ecstasy overwhelmed Rose and made any further thinking impossible. The duke peppered her hot damp face with kisses until she grew still in his arms and then withdrew his glistening fingers.
“Oh God, what was that?” Rose sighed. “What did you do?”
