Page 35 of Taken By the Dangerous Duke

Her hands wrapped around his back, grabbing at his tight muscles, and he responded by running his hands up her back and into her hair. He held her head firm as he pressed his tongue deeper into her mouth, licking at her tongue.

Margaret let out a soft moan as their lips came apart.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? You want to put a child in me?” asked Margaret.

“Yes,” hissed the duke.

“Well, give it to me then,” commanded Margaret.

The duke did not have to be asked twice. He took a hold of Margaret’s hand and pulled her up the main stairs. They practically ran into his bedroom, and he kicked the door closed behind them. He lifted Margaret out of her boots, as she kicked them off, and then tossed her onto the bed. Margaret pushed herself up to the headboard and fixed her eyes on Arthur.

Arthur took up a commanding position at the end of the bed. He kicked off his shoes first before taking off his jacket. He did not hang it this time, throwing it to the side instead. The cravat was thrown next, landing on the floor. And, he practically ripped the buttons of his shirt apart. That was thrown too. Then, down went his trousers, followed by the bulging underwear, and his member snapped to attention as the fabric was pulled down over it.

Margaret got on all fours and crawled over to him, reaching out her hand, but Arthur caught it in his first.

“No,” he whispered. “Take off your clothes first.”

Margaret knelt on the bed and managed to pull her dress up to cover her head. Arthur helped her from there, pulling the dress over her head and shoulders. He tossed that onto the floor with his clothes. The dress had pulled up the chemise, and it exposed her wet cavern. Margaret pulled it the rest of the way up, slipping it over her head and tossing it onto the floor. She still had on stockings but they were not covering anything that would be essential to what would come next.

Margaret looked up at the duke from her kneeling position, and he raised an eyebrow. She finally reached out and touched his manhood, holding the rigid shaft in her hand, gently squeezing it, and taking note of how it felt, the size, the tightness and softness, the slight pulse when she moved her fingers. She began to stroke it gently, curious how it would react to her touch.

The duke took her head in his hands and leaned down into her. There was no fighting of tongues this time. He entered her mouth on the warpath, licking at her tongue, invading her mouth to roam around it—taste her. he held her head tight and pressed his tongue into her, exploring every crevice of her mouth.

Margaret brought one of her hands to her breasts as the other continued to stroke the duke's member. She ran a finger over her stiff nipple, a ripple of pleasure running through her at the combination of an explorative tongue, nipple touch, and the prick in her hand. She could feel the wetness building in her nether regions, and she stroked at the duke with more ferocity.

And then his hand was between her legs, the warmth of his touch on her thighs. And his fingers slipped into her, moving into her cave easily, and then out again, and back in. And another finger rubbed gently at her nub, stimulating her as his fingers moistened with her juices. And her tongue fought back against the pleasure, and she tasted his tongue in her mouth, sucking on it gently.

Margaret squeezed her breast hard, a little pain with the pleasure. She tightened her grip on the duke too, but not so tight to hurt him, and she stroked up and down with more speed. And each time she got to the base of his shaft, his penis pulsed, sending waves of pleasure through her own body and down to where his fingers were exploring.

And all she could think about was his shaft pushing its way into her over and over until she could bear it no longer.

“I need you in me,” she said, drawing herself away from the duke’s lips. She panted heavily as she got the words out.

“Tell me again,” said the duke.

“I need you in me,” panted Margaret. “Please give it to me, Your Grace.”

Arthur’s fingers rubbed at her nub for a few seconds more before he pulled his fingers out of her cavern. She could smell herself, the sweetness of her juices. The duke grabbed onto her and flipped her around so she was on all fours again but facing away from him. Margaret planted her hands on the bed and readied herself.

The duke placed his warm hands on her sides, and a shock of ecstasy ran through her body. Then his tip was touching her again, and she braced herself, holding her breath. But, when he slipped into her this time, there was no pain. He eased his way fully inside, slapping his hips against her rear.

Margaret balled her fists, gripping on tight to the sheets. She smiled as she stared at the headboard. It had been arousing the first time, but it was blissful now. There was no pain, only pleasure.

The duke took himself most of the way out and then thrust slowly back in, pushing his groin against her rear. And when he slid out a third time, it was so easy, lubricated by Margaret’s excitement. And he pushed back in, sliding into her as if her hole was made for her rod. And each time his shaft slid against the inside of her cavern, the pleasure built.

The first time they had done this, she had been filled with apprehension, but she was only filled with anticipation now.

“Yes,” she said as he slid back into her. “Yes, yes, yes.”

That was the signal for him to go deeper and faster. He pushed into her, rocking Margaret forward as he went deep. He did the same again, rocking her forward in pleasure. And he moved faster, sliding in and out of her sacred space, a space where she welcomed his invasion.

And it became too quick for her to count the thrusts, and she would not have been able to anyway. Each time he probed into her, the excitement rippled through her body, and Margaret had to hold onto the sheets tighter to hold onto herself. She was losing all her senses to the pleasure that was coming, a pleasure so agonizingly close.

And when it came, she tried to hold on for as long as she could, but it was futile. She gripped onto his shaft tight with her wet cavern and tried to take a few more thrusts before she exploded, but it only took one more. The warmth started as a pinprick and exploded through her body. The tremors followed, and she lost control of her body. All she could do was grip onto the sheets as the orgasm ripped through her.

Still, the duke did not stop. He continued to thrust, and each thrust was agony and ecstasy all rolled into one, and she took it, the waves running through her; her body spasming out of control, and then the warmth spurted from the duke, filling her up again, and the shuddering from his body, matching her own.

And with a final thrust, he held himself to her body, his hands running up and down her back, and then around to her breasts to touch them tenderly, and back to her back again where he rubbed up and down. She could feel his breathing as he rested against her, bent down to embrace her in the position they were in, still with his shaft deep within her.

---