Reckless Desires
A Very Spicy Novella
(The Erotic Sequel to Desperate Desires)
What happens when England's most eligible, sought-after duke falls in love with a married woman?
What was meant to be a one-time sensual encounter ignites into a searing, erotic love affair when the duke discovers he cannot forget the woman who shackled him naked to her bed and subjected him to nights filled with wild, untrammeled passion. When he finds the mysterious beauty, yearning explodes and Lucien Brandford, Duke of Carlsborough and Lady Lucinda Davenport, start in on a dangerous scheme where headstrong hearts are the forfeiture. The desperate couple must outwit the ton to find a way to be together, for only in each others’ arms can they tame their...Reckless Desires.
(38K Words)
. . . A n o t h e r . . .
. . . S p i c y . . .
. . . N o v e l l a . . .
Reckless Desires
by
Terri Wolffe
Reckless Desires
By Terri Wolffe
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Terri Wolffe
Cover Art: Jon Paul Studios
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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.
Dedication
This book is
lovingly dedicated to the incomparable and legendary singer, Phyllis
Hyman,
whose extraordinary lyrical voice was adored by many fans
all over the world.
Where have you been all my life…
I was nothing…I was nowhere…
Until you came and made it right…
No I didn’t stand a chance…
Until I found this sweet romance…
The answer, boy, is you…
~ Song: The Answer Is You
by Phyllis Hyman
Reckless
Desires
By
Terri Wolffe
Excerpt from Reckless Desires by Terri Wolffe
As the horses ambled at walking speed, inside the duke’s carriage, Lucien Douglas Aldwine Brandford, fourth Duke of Carlsborough and Lady Lucinda Davenport, Countess to Lord Joshua Davenport, seventh Earl of Compton, stared at each other longingly. Despite her undeniable marital status, desire pooled within their eyes as shared memories of erotic pleasures rippled through their senses.
Sitting atop his lap, Lucinda could feel the evidence of Lucien’s arousal through his snug-fitting breeches. With arms still clasped possessively around his neck, her eyes roamed the breadth of his shoulders beneath his waistcoat and white silk shirt before lingering on the lazy half smile that lit the duke’s face. She remembered well this particular look of his. The one he would give her to signal that he knew exactly what it was she wanted. More precisely, what it was she needed from him. She also remembered how, without fail, he would richly indulge her needs. Lucinda’s cheeks grew hot at the remembrance of such unalloyed and passionate indulgences. As her cheeks turned a reddish hue, she knew a sudden chaste-like shyness and glanced away from the duke.
To Lucien, she was as radiant as he remembered. Her wavy, fiery-red hair was pinned into a loose chignon with curls dangling along the sides of her face. Her soft, creamy skin was kissed by the sun. Full luscious lips, a short narrow nose, prominent cheek bones and her most memorable feature that had haunted his dreams: those beautiful and startling gray eyes. Her matching brocade shawl did little to disguise the shape of her bountiful, taut breasts, her tiny waist and those flaring hips with her well-rounded buttocks.
Even as the sight of her gladdened and warmed his heart, Lucien ached with desire for her. What he wanted most was to have her naked, writhing beneath him, her arms and legs wrapped tightly about him as he plundered her with deep urgent thrusts until she nearly fainted from sheer orgasmic pleasure.
Lucien unwrapped one of her arms from around his neck and lifted the back of her hand to his mouth. He sensed her immediate response and knew his soft kisses sent familiar shivers along her spine.
“I’ve missed you horribly,” Lucien said, a seductive smile still lingering on his lips.
Grappling with her own intense needs, Lucinda stared pointedly at the duke’s fashionably tied neckcloth. The rich smell of sandalwood clung to him, reminding her of the very first night she’d met him, how she’d trailed her nose along his neck just to get closer to the heady scent of him. But that first night, when she’d abducted and blindfolded him and had him dragged (against his will) to her home, seemed like ages ago.
She said, “Humph. You, with all the duchesses and dolly-mops that you have at your service. Impossible, duke.” Still, she wondered, had he really missed her as much as she him?
Lucien loved the way she called him “duke.” As if he was hers to command. He was…He lifted her chin to force her eyes to meet his. “My dear Lady Lucinda, you’re the only woman I’ve serviced in quite some time. ’Tis terribly unkind of you to have led me on such a not-so-merry chase.”
“Tosh! A nobleman of your licentious…”
Before she could finish her sentence, Lucien captured her lips with his. Immediately, she melted into him and slid her left arm around his neck. Her hint of shyness clearly vanquished. Where first his lips were gentle, a kiss meant merely to shear her words, it changed as he remembered the sweetness of her touch. When his tongue grazed hers, he heard that familiar purr emanate from deep within her throat and he felt himself lengthen against her soft bottom. The caress of her fingertips on the back of his neck seemed to him like a gesture of appreciation.
Their kiss deepened, their tongues mated feverishly, and their hunger for one another intensified. They suckled each other’s lips as if attempting to make up for the agonizing deprivation caused by the months they’d been apart. The moment her bottom squirmed against his manhood, the duke nearly lost his self control. Lucien groaned into her mouth as his hand drifted from her face to untie and toss aside her shawl so that he could cup her luscious breasts. Palming the heavy globes, he traced her engorged nipples through the muslin of her gown. Memories of how much he enjoyed sucking them (until she was nearly insane with pleasure) assaulted his senses. He tore his lips away from hers to plant hungry kisses along her neck.
The moment his lips reached her ear, he began to whisper sweet, sensual endearments that gave clue to the waves of desire that crawled through him. As he tenderly massaged her left breast, in a deep, gruff and erotic voice, he whispered to her how much he’d missed her, how happy he was to see her again, how much he adored her, how sweet she was to him, how lush and gorgeous she was, and how he couldn’t wait to make love to her, to give her what she’d been missing—more pleasure than she could stand. He whispered his promise to fill her gently with his thick, hard shaft and to make her cum around it a dozen times before he plied her with his seed. And then he confessed that he would have searched the world over until he found her because he intended for everyone to know that she belonged only to him.
His own libido stoked to a feverish pitch, the duke needed to have her naked before him. He kissed her deeply as he began to unfasten the hooks at the back of her gown, slowly, as if unveiling a rare, precious object. Unhurriedly, he peeled the gown and chemise from her shoulders, revealing more of the creamy flesh which he sought to ravish. And when her breasts were finally freed from their confinement, he stared at the sumptuous, bare feast that she presented before him. Her extra-large nipples puckered as if begging for his touch. Unbidden, the tip of Lucien’s tongue eagerly wet his own lips, for she reminded him of a voluptuous goddess. His every erotic desire made flesh. He felt the pressure of her hands on his face as she nudged his mouth to her breasts, toward the left one, which was more sensitive to his every touch.
When he took his time meeting her need, Lucinda arched her back, impatiently lifting her chest in a silent demand that he quickly feast upon the fleshly delight which she blatantly offered. His soft kisses rained upon the peaks of her breasts. The touch of his lips on her skin and the barest flick of his tongue an utter delight to her senses.
As though he could contain himself no longer, the duke’s lips teasingly fastened onto one of her thick nipples like a man dying of thirst. Her swift intake of breath and sweet sigh of pleasure was music to the duke’s starved ears.
At the feel of his velvety tongue, spears of pleasure spiked through Lucinda all the way down to her toes. She could feel the sweet moisture of her desire gathering between her legs in hot anticipation of having him inside her. Her inner muscles clenched with longing at the remembrance of how large he was. Instinctively, she pressed her buttocks harder against the duke’s engorged manhood. Memories of the many ways he’d slowly made love to her coursed through her brain, forcing her to passionately whisper his name.
“Lucien…” she crooned in his ear.
He adored the way she pronounced his name. Lu•shan. “Yes, pet, I’m here.” He responded ever so lovingly to the plaintive note of neediness in her voice. A neediness that communicated her wanton desire to be taken posthaste. He, himself, knew the same urgency as he palmed her breasts and stroked her large nipples with his thumbs.
Her passions were clearly heightened when he asked her, “You missed me, didn’t you, puss?” A brief respite as he whispered evocative words into her ear, his tongue scraping her earlobe. When he traced a path to her lips, her soft whimper indicated her surrender. However, for a man unused to so long a period of celibacy, her response wasn’t enough. “Talk to me, my lady,” he commanded. “Tell me how much you’ve missed me.”
Gad, how she’d missed this duke of hers! Her response was a kiss as she held his face between her hands. In between tasting his lips, she whispered, “I’ve thought of little else but you, Lucien, since the moment you were taken from me.” When he squeezed her nipple, an urgent gasp caught in her throat. She began to gyrate her hips and grind them against his hardened staff. “Lud, duke. Yes, I’ve missed you. How could I not when I yearned for you night after night? The nights without you have been so very hard to endure.” Her voice was soft and throaty.
His hands spanned her waist. “It was not your wish to send me away?” He’d been abruptly stripped from her bed without so much as a by your leave and returned to his London estate… surreptitiously, in the dead of night.
She shook her head. “Nay, duke. I had no prior knowledge that you would be taken away from me so suddenly.”
“You wished me to remain so I could continue to…service you…because you enjoyed having me make love to you. Did you not know I would find you?” The duke had had no knowledge of his whereabouts when she’d abducted him and demanded that he beget her with child. Days later, when he was abruptly removed from her bed, he only knew that he had to find her.
Her arms tightened around his neck. “Yes, Lucien, I hoped you would come for me.” she whispered.
Nothing short of God, Himself, could have kept him away from her. In a short period of time, she’d come to mean too much to him. “Tell me, my lady, did I make you pregnant?”
As soon as the words were uttered, Lucinda’s eyes closed and her thighs clenched together at the knowledge that he’d done to her just as he’d spoken...just as she’d begged him to. Her lips parted in a silent gasp.
Her words formed a low, urgent whisper. “Yes Lucien, I’m pregnant. I carry your seed. You know I’ve missed you desperately. Please, darling, you’re torturing me. It’s been so long…I need you…”
Unable to resist her whimpered pleas, the duke’s fingers firmly grasped her left breast and with his lips, he latched onto its nipple, sucking deeply…tonguing the engorged tip, biting into it tenderly. With her writhing against him, he knew he couldn’t constrain himself for much longer from burying his thick shaft inside her wet, tight, silky flesh. As he continued to sensuously lick her breasts, the duke began to slowly raise her gown to slide his hand underneath her garments. His fingers trailed from her ankles upward along her legs. When his hand reached the juncture of her thighs, her legs parted willingly to allow him access to her heated core, which ached with need.
The moment his large hand rested atop her mons, palming her hot flesh through her undergarments, she bucked against him. Lucien’s nubile fingers found the opening and hurried to caress the silky nether lips which were slick with her own heated juices. Just as he slipped his finger inside her tight, warm puss, simultaneously, he bit down on her nipple. With a muffled scream, her first orgasm overtook her.
As she shuddered against him, Lucien’s lips fastened upon hers. The soft, yearning hisses that escaped from her throat told him that she was not satisfied, and that the temporary pleasure she’d just experienced wasn’t nearly enough to slake the hidden passions within her that were now raging at full speed.
“Lucien, please…Make love to me.” She wanted him inside her, filling her, plundering her, loving her, as only he could.
No sooner were her words spoken when the duke slipped his hand from between her legs to finish unhooking the rest of her gown. His eyes continued to feast on her luscious breasts.
“Your breasts have grown larger, puss. Is this a gift for me?” he asked her before kissing their peaks.
Impatiently, she answered, “Yes, duke. A gift for you and for the baby. Now kiss me, my lord.”
He did. The knowledge that she carried his seed invigorated him and filled him with ardor. With all the hooks of her garment undone, her gown lay in a heap around her hips. Lucien’s hands encircled her waist as she slid her arms from her gown and chemise.
With a smile on her own lips, Lucinda’s loins grew even wetter, pulsing with anticipation at all the duke was about to do to her. Just as she wrapped her arms around his neck, unabashedly pressing her breasts to his chest, urging him to give her what she craved, their carriage came to a sudden halt.
“I’ll have someone’s hide for this interruption.” the duke growled. His face was buried against her neck.
“Send them away, Lucien. I don’t care to wait much longer.” Lucinda’s voice was pure latent sensuality.
Lucien took in every detail of her. He saw before him, a passionate woman without shame, begging to be tupped. “But only by me,” he thought as his hand caressed her face.
“Wait for me, my love.” He set her from his lap and helped adjust her shawl to cover her naked torso. He had barely wrapped her shawl around her when a pounding sounded on his carriage door.
“This had better be good,” the duke muttered threateningly. He bothered not to lift the shades which covered the carriage windows. Instead, he leaned over to unlatch the door. As soon as the carriage door was cracked open by one of his outriders, the duke’s man was pushed aside, and in his place stood Maddy glowering at him with arms akimbo.
“I insist that Lady Lucinda be accompanied by a chaperone.”
No greeting addressed to Lucien. No “Your Grace.” Or even a simple “milord.” Just “straight to the point” Maddy. Lud, how this termagant of a woman continued to vex him! Any goodwill the duke felt toward her vanished straight away. The duke spoke harshly. “Lady Lucinda does not require a chaperone.” His tone brooked no argument.
But Maddy was used to handling titled and domineering men. She’d grown up in the rough Seven Dials district of London and had learned to fight as a means of survival. She was in no way cowed. She said to the duke, “I say my lady does require a chaperone. Hence, you have a choice. Either her ladyship’s maidservant or I, myself, will accompany her.” Maddy was one gesture shy of pointing her finger in his face.
“I’ll repeat myself just this once: Lady Davenport does not require a chaperone.” The duke’s voice was dangerously insistent. He had no intention of allowing Maddy into his carriage. If need be, he’d have his men bind the woman and carry her back to Champney Court on a for-hire horse cart.
Fearlessly, Maddy drew herself upward to her full 5'2" height. Her tone of voice bespoke her fearlessness. “See here, ye young pup! Either I’m riding with ye to Champney Court, or my lady’s maidservant, Ginny, will be accompanying ye. Now which will it be?”
As was his habit, the duke had a maddening way of making Maddy angrier than a bonnet of bees. And when that happened, she tended to neglect her excellent command of the Queen’s English. “Should have choked the very life out of the blackguard when I had him at me mercies,” Maddy thought grudgingly. At that moment, she could have gladly strangled the duke with her bare hands.
As Maddy glared at him in consternation, Lucien swore he heard her mutter, “Mangy cur.”
Meanwhile, the lady in question was shielded from everyone’s view by the duke’s body. Used to playing the role of peacemaker when it came to these two, Lucinda sighed and said appeasingly for everyone’s sake, “Send Ginny to ride along with us, Maddy. I’ll not have you and His Grace at each other’s throats before we arrive at Champney Court.”
What was equally evident, was the look of consternation on the duke’s own face. If looks were any indication, the duke appeared as though he was two seconds away from throttling Maddy. Lucien turned to Lucinda and said for her ears alone, “As if the presence of a maid could ever stop me from making love to you.”
Lucinda saw the look of passionate intent on the duke’s face and closed her eyes at the thoughts that ran through her mind.
Prologue
Chester, England 1796
Samuel Belfry was in a quandary. After more than eighteen months of servitude at the Red Roof Inn, he’d become less than hopeful about fulfilling his assigned mission. Unfortunately, failure meant his Ma’s outstanding debt to those two wicked coves back in London would remain unpaid and in turn that meant Samuel would remain under servant contract for the next ten years of his life.