The Duke’s Wench
She heard the carriage drew to a halt. Her heart started to beat fast. He’s home. It’s been months since she last saw him, no correct that, since she first saw him.
She looked back to that fateful day when he rescued her. She thought it would be her last day on earth. Bedraggled, tired and hungry, she tried to ask for help from one of the carriage passing her way. But to her dismay, the carriage passenger was an unscrupulous viscount who had designs on her. She was fighting him off when he came upon them.
He knew the old viscount very well, knew enough that to know that the girl will not get out of the skirmish unharmed. On seeing them, he jumped down from his carriage and led the viscount to believe that she is one of his runaway servants. The viscount was trying to protest, but her new protector is a Duke so he was outranked and had to give way.
From that day on he became her very own knight in shining armour. She watched him as he got off his carriage and at that moment he looked up and found her staring at him. Rory felt her cheeks growing red but she boldly kept her gaze at him and to her amazement, he gave her a wink telling her that he was aware of her bold perusal before striding out.
Charles was already in his room, his valet arranging his things and ensuring that he had everything he needs. When everything was to his satisfaction the man asked if he required anything else. He asked if he would send one of the maids to bring him tea. When his valet left, he lay down on the bed, arms behind his head and waited.
Several minutes passed before he heard a soft knock on his door. He bid enter and the object of his thought for the last several months entered. Rory! Try as he might, he could not get her image off his mind. The image of her lovely and supple thighs exposed to his gaze when he saw her fighting off the dirty old viscount kept intruding into his thoughts. Her dress tattered and ripped, barely covering her ample breasts and curves haunted him. He hadn’t had a moment of peace since he left her here in his country house which is why he had decided to end his torment. Packing his bags, he closed his house in London told all the servants that he is taking time off.
“You asked for tea, my Lord?” she said, breaking into his reverie.
He merely nodded his head, his gaze perusing her movements at a leisurely pace. She moved so gracefully, so refined which came as a surprise. Even her speech was well mannered and did not contain the slur of most commoners. Her beauty was also not ordinary, her skin smooth and her hands do not contain the calluses that the working class bear on their hands. If he was honest, she could give the ladies of the ton a run for their money. She also has an innocent look about her that he found so captivating.
She looked at her delicate face, her red lips, wondering if it was as soft as it looks. He continued his perusal, his gaze moving from her mouth to her eyes. To his amazement, she seems to be doing a perusal of her own, her eyes almost undressing him. It seemed his first assumption was correct, the attraction is not one sided. He waited until her gaze collided with his. He decided to test the waters.
“Find something interesting?”
Her jaw dropped in dismay at being caught, “My Lord?” she feigned innocently.
He was bubbling with laughter at her feigned innocence. So the little wench wants to play. “Draw me a bath. I feel as if I am carrying all the dirt from the road. I think I’m in need of a scrubbing.”
Her eyes widened at what he had just said. Give him a bath! Is he daft? She was a lady of breeding, and he expects her to give him a bath. But then she suddenly remembered that he didn’t know that. He thinks she is nothing but a serving wench. The arrogant quizzing of his brows had her scurrying in the bath. He cannot, he must not find out who or what she really is.
Preparing his bath took little time. When he entered the bathroom all he was wearing was a sheet wrapped around his waist. He knew she was watching him so he purposely dropped the sheet and slowly lowered his naked body onto the tub.
Rory felt her mouth go dry. She’s never seen a naked man before and she knew she ought to turn her gaze away but she just stood frozen. His bronzed body, so defined and well sculptured was a sight to behold. Her heart started to beat erratically. She heard a roaring in her ears that she didn’t hear him calling out to her.
“Rory!” he barked.
She blinked her eyes, “My Lord?”
“I asked you to give me a bath.” he repeated.
“I…, I cann…not my Llll…lord.” she stammered
“What in blazes are you babbling about?” he said, sounding annoyed. “What do you mean you cannot?”
Rory couldn’t move if her life depended on it. How is she to explain that she’s never seen a naked man before let alone bathe one? But she was so sure that he would never believe her if she tried to explain. Gritting her teeth, she picked up the scrub and moved nearer the tub.
Charles was laughing at her inwardly. He clearly saw the shock on her face which convinced him that the little wench was as innocent as she looked. He waited until he felt her hands touch his skin. He gritted his teeth to stop from groaning when he felt her hands touch his skin.
Rory picked up the soap and started to lather his body. At first, she was hesitant but she soon became absorbed with her task that she had forgotten about her initial shyness. His body was hard and smooth, the muscles well defined. She lathered his neck, his shoulders, and his back. Moving to the front, she lathered soap on his arms, his chest; her hands going lower to his abdomen. She jumped when her fingers accidentally touched the tip of his shaft. The soap fell from her hands.
“Problem?” he asked.
She silently picked up the soap and continued to lather him, moving to his legs and thighs and doing her best not to let her hand brush against his shaft. A soft gasp escaped her when she noticed that through the water, she could clearly see his shaft, standing hard and straight and very visible in the water.
Charles stifled a groan each time she accidentally brushed against his tip. He knew it was accidental. There was no mistaking her shock. He wanted to abandon his game and just pull her down on the tub with him. It took all his control to keep his hands to himself.
Rory’s hands stilled as she tried to turn her gaze away. But suddenly her hand was grasped by a stronger one. She looked up to find his eyes filled with desire.
“I think you missed something.” he said looking pointedly at his shaft.
Rory was now as red as a beet. Good heavens, does he know what he asked of her? Does he have any idea what this is doing to her? To touch him so intimately is enough to give her shudders. If she touched him, she is not sure she would stop at that. She closed her eyes, trying to gather her wayward thoughts. When she opened them, it was to see him watching her hungrily. She groaned as he moved her hand towards his hard shaft. She trembled as he drew her to wrap her hands on his shaft. He felt like steel but silky beneath her palms.
Charles’ breathing became laboured as he felt her hands encircling his shaft. He felt himself go even harder, swelling thickly. He was now drowning in desire and need. He could feel her tentative touch at first until each touch became surer, more confident. He couldn’t stop his hips from moving upward, sliding between her palms.
Rory became fascinated with the way his shaft seemed to swell thicker and harder with her every touch; the soap now totally forgotten as she rolled his shaft between her palms. Her eyes widened when he jerked up, his hips thrusting upwards.
After a few minutes Charles knew he was fast losing control of the situation. Taking a deep breath, he called a halt to things. His body was screaming for fulfilment but when he exploded he wanted to be inside her. He sank back in the tub, trying to calm himself.
Rory was surprised when he asked her to stop. She was breathing very hard but she felt a stab of disappointment. Her mind registered the shock over what she was feeling. She should be angry with him, but instead she feels disappointed.
Charles turned to her and forgot what he was going to say when he saw the sharp stab of disappointment on her face. She looked glorious and deliciously wanton. Her breathing laboured, her eyes glazed with desire; her nipples, pebble hard and straining against the tight bodice of her clothing. Her breast threatening to spill over her dress making his body hardened painfully. Without thinking he pulled her into the tub, falling against him. Her clothes now plastered to her skin.
Rory gave a yelp of surprise as she felt herself falling forward onto the tub on top of him. Her breast felt sensitive against his naked chest even with her clothes between them. Her pelvis encountered the engorged hardness of his shaft.
In the back of his mind, Charles knew that this was her first time, but his body seemed to have a mind of its own. She was straddling him now and he could feel her heat warming his abdomen. He held her still for a moment, trying to gather some control. He wanted to erase the look of disappointment from her face but he needed to get a hold of himself first. Taking a deep breath, he slowly lifted her dress, taking it off her leaving her naked with just her underwear on. He slid her underwear off her legs, his hands skimming her thighs and legs. Holding her hips, he lifted her slowly moving her upward towards his waiting mouth. His tongue licking the insides of her feminine core, until he fully settled her against his lips then he started to suck her.
Rory did not even object when he slipped her dress off her. Her breast thrust forward, her nipples hard. She gasped when he tugged her underwear off, slipping it past her legs but she gave no objection. She felt his hands exploring her legs and thighs but when she felt herself being lifted off, she felt a moment of panic which was replaced by a loud moan when she felt him licking her. Rory groaned and squirmed as his tongue lick her insides, until he started sucking her, then she screamed.
She tasted even sweeter than he imagined. He continued to lick and suck her as she straddled his mouth. Her scream spurred his need to let her have a taste of what pleasures lay ahead of them. He gripped her hips as she started to buckle on top of him, signalling that she was about to come. A few more licks, his tongue flicking at her core and she exploded. Her juice dripped onto his mouth. He sucked her even more, drinking in the sweet taste of her as her body spasms from the force of her orgasm.