Bertrice Small - The Duchess

"Some of the costumes were fantastic," Allegra agreed with a smile. "Well, Honor, I have had my baptism of fire as the Duchess of Sedgwick, and I have survived. Old Lady Bealle fully approves or me.

"And well she should," Honor replied loyally as she helped her mistress from the heavy wig, and the rest of her clothing. Then she said, "I know it's late, or rather early, m'lady, but I drew a small bath for you in your dressing room. Will you be taking it?"

Allegra nodded, and walked naked across the bedchamber into her dressing room where her porcelain tub was set up now. Stepping into the lukewarm scented water she sank down and sighed. "Oh, this is wonderful, Honor. You are a clever girl." She did not linger long, however, just long enough to quickly wash. Honor dried her with a large towel, which was a great deal warmer than her tub had been, and slid a soft white cotton night garment over her mistress. Then Allegra climbed gratefully into bed, and was asleep almost instantly. She did not hear her husband come into the room shortly after Honor had left. And she certainly never felt him climb into bed next to her.

When she awoke in midafternoon he was lying next to her, snoring lightly. She rolled onto her side and studied him. They hadn't even been married a full month yet, but there had been no time to really study Quinton Hunter. Yes, he was handsome with his black hair and thick eyelashes that now fanned across his high cheekbones. Those eyelashes were every bit as thick as hers, Allegra thought. His eyebrows were heavy and bushy. He had a long, and what was referred to as an aquiline nose. And his mouth. She sighed softly. It was big, and gave her the most delicious kisses. She considered his chin. It was square, and there was a dimple directly in the center. It was really quite outrageous.

Then suddenly his silvery eyes were staring into her violet ones. Allegra gasped, startled. "You are awake," she said, wondering how long he had been aware of her scrutiny.

He smiled lazily at her. "May I assume that you approve of what you see, madame?" he said.

"What on earth do you mean, Quinton?"

"You were studying me quite closely, madame." He rolled her suddenly onto her back, his hands restraining hers quite effectively. "Admit it, duchess." He gave her a quick kiss.

"Never." She laughed, and then she shrieked. "Sir, you are a randy fellow. Why your manhood is hard as a rock against my leg."

"I have to pee," he announced, releasing her, and then getting up to find the chamber pot. "But when I am finished, Duchess, you have my permission to make me randy," he told her with a wicked grin. Then turning his back he pissed into the flowered china chamber pot, sighing with relief as he pushed it back beneath their bed. He turned about, and advanced upon her once again.

"Quinton. We have guests," Allegra cried.

"Who, if they are awake, my dear duchess, are probably doing exactly what you and I are about to do," he told her, grinning again.

"It is daylight," she protested as he climbed back next to her. "Can you do it in the daylight?"

Quinton Hunter burst out laughing. "My darling duchess," he said, "you can do it any time and almost anywhere, I assure you."

"How interesting," she purred, her voice suddenly very seductive. "On the rug?" Her look was questioning.

"Yes."

"In the garden?"

"Absolutely."

"In my hath?"

"A charming idea," he agreed.

"Any time?"

"And almost any place," he repeated softly, kissing her ear.

"But what if I were dressed?" she demanded.

"I should take great pleasure, Duchess, in lifting your skirts in order to have my way with you," he murmured wickedly, blowing into her ear now.

"Oh la, sir, you are very naughty," Allegra accused him, but her heart was beating wildly. He was half atop her, their legs entwining in a sensuous embrace. His lips were employed in kissing her lips, her throat, her face, and every part of her body that he could reach. Her round little breasts were crushed against his hard chest, his soft fur irritating her nipples which suddenly seemed extraordinarily sensitive.

Her perfumed skin was utterly intoxicating, he thought. Unable to help himself, he began to mouth her with his lips. Was it possible to eat her up? He certainly wanted to devour her for she was to his thinking most delicious. His lips moved across her belly. He could feel a pulse fluttering beneath his mouth. She was making little noises that seemed to come from the back of her throat. She was writhing beneath him, and he held her fast so he might continue kissing her. His manhood was beginning to hurt, throbbing with desire, eager to plunge within her fragrant warmth. Finally Quinton Hunter could wait no longer. Covering her lush body with his, he pressed forward.

"Ahhhh," Allegra cried as he entered her. "Ohh, Quinton! Oh, darling, yes!" Her slim arms clutched at him. Her long legs wrapped themselves about his lean torso. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" The words were almost a prayer.

He was lost within her. His thoughts disappeared. There was only sensation, and the wonder of the pleasure they were giving and sharing with each other. His hips drove relentlessly against her hips. His hands tangled themselves into the dark mass of her hair, holding her head tightly as their kisses fired volley after volley of hot desire that coursed through their veins until they could kiss no more. They were breathless with the hunger they seemed to engender within each other. They were so finely attuned to each other that once again they exploded together, then collapsed into each other's embrace.

For several long minutes the sounds of their breathing, at first ragged, and finally less harried, filled the room.

"You are magnificent," the duke finally said to his wife, kissing her softly as he rolled away from her. Propping himself upon an elbow he looked down into her beautiful face.

"You called me darling," he said.

"I didn't," she quickly denied.

He laughed softly. "You did, Allegra. Could it be that you are beginning to harbor a tendre for me, Duchess?''

"I hardly know you, sir," she said, struggling to keep herself from falling headlong into his silvery gaze.

"You have known me since April," he said, chuckling, "and you have lived at Hunter's Lair with me since mid-June and you have been my wife for four weeks."

"Is it four weeks?" she said innocently.

"Say you love me," he coaxed her. "You know that I love you," Quinton Hunter said softly.

"You lust after me," she said. "Is that love, my lord?"

"Lusting after you is part of my love for you," he explained to her. "But the thought of being without you- ever -drives me to darkest despair, Allegra. I love you. And I think you love me."

"I don't understand love," Allegra persisted.

"Do not be evasive, Allegra," he gently scolded her. "Answer yourself this question. Would you rather be with me, or without me?"

"With you," she cried without hesitation.

"You love me," he said quietly.

And the reality slammed into her. She did love him! She didn't understand anything about love, or why she felt the way she did toward him, but she did. " I love you," she said wonderingly. "Oh, Quinton, I do."

"I know," he replied, enfolding her into his arms. "Despite our careful resolve, my darling duchess. Despite the plain facts that would caution us against such folly, we have nonetheless fallen in love with each other." He kissed the top of her head. "I do not understand it either, Allegra, but there it is."