THE MADAM DUCHESS
By Liliana Hart
Copyright 2011 by Liliana Hart
Smashwords Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter One
London, 1872
Alexandra Whitworth, whom at the tender age of three and twenty became the Dowager Duchess of Hawthorne, was nothing more than a pauper.
Her solicitor had broken the news to her just two weeks hence, but he had not left her without options. The estate was hers, but the debt she’d been left with would soon see that even that was taken from her. In desperation, she’d begged the solicitor, a Mr. James J. Randolph, to help her keep the wolves at bay. His counsel had been nothing like she’d imagined.
He’d brushed the tips of his fingers over her knee in a most forward manner and suggested that he’d heard of a way many widows had paid off debts after their late husbands’ deaths. Alex had frozen at the feel of his foreign touch. She’d not felt a man’s caress in more than two years, not since her husband’s illness had taken control of his body.
Mr. James J. Randolph wasn’t an unhandsome man, though he was rather short in stature. He had kind brown eyes and his face was more than pleasant to look upon. His hair was thick and ash in color and his body was stocky and well muscled, a physique more suited to a boxer than a solicitor.
“I’m not sure I know what you speak of,” Alex stammered nervously.
“Come now, surely the ways of married life are not forgotten to you.” His hand skimmed higher over her thigh, up her hip and over the rigid bodice of her black mourning dress until it skimmed just beneath her breast. She let out a moan and then gasped at her impropriety. Her husband had been buried in the cold ground for less than a month, but her body didn’t seem to care. It was betraying her to a man she’d only met on a handful of occasions.
“You are a stunning woman. In your possession you hold youth, beauty and titles. The only thing you lack is money. Money is easily obtained if you know where to look.”
Alex knew she needed to focus. Her situation was dire, and she had no family left to turn to, but James had pulled her bodice down until the plump mounds of flesh that had been bound burst free from their captivity. His fingers tweaked and pulled her nipples, and she could feel the moisture gathering at the juncture of her thighs.
“God, you are lovely,” he said, taking a rosy nipple into his mouth and suckling.
Alex moaned and grasped his thick sandy hair with her hands, pulling him closer, begging him for things she’d almost forgotten. Things her elderly husband had never felt comfortable doing to a woman at the peak of her sexuality—a woman too young to know what she was missing.
“Please, I beg you,” she said, and for a moment she was able to forget her despair, her loneliness and her anguish.
“Then you agree?” He asked, quickly undoing the buttons to his trousers. His cock sprang out, erect and full, the tip glistening and swollen with his desire.
Alex couldn’t remember the question, such was the sight that was displayed before her. He was not overly long, but his thickness was more than enough to give her pause. She could only imagine what it would feel like to be stretched by such a magnificent tool.
“W…what?” she stuttered. “What are you talking about?”
He smiled at her. One filled with a combination of cunning and tenderness.
“The look of lust in your eyes is a distraction, but you are my charge and it is my duty to look out for you. What I am speaking of is exclusive soirees, for the discreet and very rich. Members of society will only be permitted attendance by invitation, and once they receive the invitation a hefty fee must be paid to gain entry. Men and women alike will be welcome. This will be their refuge, a place they may indulge in anything carnal, acts that are shunned and never spoken of, even in the most bawdry houses of ill repute. Their identities will be kept secret, from you and everyone else in attendance. The price will protect their identities and indulge their fantasies.”
He tweaked her nipple once again and moved closer, so that his straining cock was mere inches from her mouth. Alex licked her lips in anticipation of the feel of male flesh penetrating her body, the taste of it on her lips, the strength of it thrusting into her dripping cunt.
“But how will people know what is to be expected of them?” She asked, flicking her tongue over the salty tip, savoring his unique flavor. She felt power fill her as he shuddered under the grip of her hand.
“I know people who will discreetly pass the word. I predict you will be most popular, but it is imperative that the new Duke of Hawthorne not hear of your new enterprise, for he will be shamed by the scandal to the family name. He is but a distant relation to your husband, but I hear he is a most rigid man.”
“How do I know who is supposed to attend if I can’t know of their identities? Who will collect the money and check invitations at the door?”
“I am still your solicitor, Your Grace. I will continue to serve you in every way I know how.”
With those reassuring words, Alex took his shaft in her mouth, cupping the taught sac beneath with her hand while stroking him with her fist. The girth of his rod made it difficult to pleasure him the way she wanted. He seemed to grow even thicker as she scraped her teeth along the underside of his cock, nipping at the foreskin that was stretched so tautly.
“Stop or I will spend too quickly,” he said, voice strained and face flushed with the effort to hold back his release.
Alex released him with the sound of a small, wet pop and grunted as he lifted her from the settee and flipped her over. She gripped the back of the small couch as he tossed her skirts up, urging him to fuck her until she was sure a servant would hear her arduous demands. He didn’t bother to remove her drawers. He parted the slit and exposed the dark curls of her nether lips, flicking his finger over the protruding nub.
He buried his face in her curls, his lips swallowing her flowing juices and his tongue laving her swollen flesh. It only took a moment before the sensations spread from the tiny nubbin of pleasure hidden in her folds to course through her body and explode as she orgasmed.
“Sweet heavens, your pussy is like ambrosia.”
“I need to feel your cock inside me. Hurry,” she demanded, desperate for the male flesh that was quivering to mount her.
“Yes, Your Grace.” He stabbed his cock into her drenched pussy with one thrust, fitting snugly against the walls of her womb. She grunted once with the force of his entry, his girth almost uncomfortable in fit, but the discomfort was soon forgotten as she began climaxing, milking his cock as he thrust rapidly in and out of her. She felt the slap of his balls against her behind, and her cunt clamped around him when his magical fingers once again found her nipples. The feel of her pussy throbbing around him must have been too much because he shuddered and moaned loudly as his release approached.
He pulled out of her with a roar and spent his seed on the black velvet of her mourning skirt.
Chapter Two
Alex’s hand shook as she took a calming sip of champagne. James had been correct in his assumption that she’d become most popular among London’s elite. He’d had to reject a number of people—those whose pockets were not deep enough, whose looks were not stunning enough or whose desires were not unusual enough. He had kept his word and handled the financial details, not telling her who was coming or how much they’d paid, but it must have been substantial because already she’d paid off most of her husband’s creditors.
She could hear the arrival of carriages on the cobbled path that led to Hawthorne Cottage. It was her Dowager home, a twenty room estate with acres of rolling hills for her horses to roam. Even now, she knew James was stationed at the door, his face hidden as he inspected the guests and their invitations. This would be their first soiree of many, spaced so the guests would become impatient with anticipation as the days turned into weeks. Some of them would be invited back. Others wouldn’t.