Page 35 of In Service to the Duke

Eventually, I make my way into the tunnels. I don’t need a lantern since I know this path like the back of my hand. It’s as much a part of me as my very skin. Thankfully, it makes slipping in and out of Miss Gillet’s room far easier.

Pressing my ear against the door, I listen for any sounds within. The maids should all be away attending other matters, but I wait to be sure. All it takes is cracking the door open a sliver for me to know she’s fast asleep. My cock pulses as I slip into the room like a thief in the night.

There, lying with her hair surrounding her head like a halo, is my prize. In the firelight, she looks like an angel, and I’m the devil about to take her to the pits of hell. Scooping her into my arms, I try to tell myself she doesn’t feel like she belongs there.

But she does. I just have to convince my mind to go along with what my heart already knows. Until her, my life was neat and orderly. Everything had a place, a compartment, and yet she keeps weaving in and out of those confinements in a way I never thought possible.

Clutching her closer, I make my way back to my dungeon, my heart pounding in my chest. Soon, she’s splayed out in nothing but her night rail. Though the practical cotton looks far more virginal than what I like, on her, it’s erotic and enticing.

I want so desperately to make her my wife, to strip her bare while she’s awake and make her cry out with the pleasure only I can deliver. It gnaws at me, digging into my scalp until I’m nearly ready to cry out ‘mercy’. This idea is lunacy, but it plagues my every breath until I find I must give in.

No one else can have her like this. Only me. It’s a possessive, feral need which tears at the very fabric of my mind until I’m left wanting. I’ve stolen her pleasure, but soon, I’ll be able to give it to her in the light of day.

As much as I’ve wanted to resist, I find I can’t. There’s something almost mystical about this union. I dare not call it a true love match, but it feels as close as I will ever get.

Besides, if we’ve wed and I’ve claimed her, nothing will be hidden between us. I will know everything about her. Any fears I have of her inserting herself just to lay claim to my title will vanish.

Everything else fades away for a moment as the rightness of my decision washes over me. A sense of calm pervades my soul, allowing me to take in a deep breath. Wife. It’s such a simple decision. It would ease my mother’s concerns and allow me to defile this governess whenever I choose, however I choose.

Digging my fingers into the cotton, I steady myself, ensuring I don’t simply attack her, devouring her as my body craves. I still want to hear her whines of need before I give in and grant her pleasure. Gazing down at her face, something akin to affection stirs deep in my soul.

No more will she wear these plain night clothes. Once I make her my wife, I’ll ensure she wears either nothing to bed or only the sheerest of fabrics, so I may gaze upon her flesh as often as I wish. My cock pulses against my pants as I climb onto the bed to join her. Miss Gillet’s eyes flutter as she’s caught up in a dream.

Slowly, as not to startle her awake in case the drug has not fully taken hold, I draw up the night rail, revealing her body to my hungry gaze. I leave the gown on, but force it up and over her ample breasts, letting the fabric pool around her throat. The firelight flickers over her skin, turning it a soft muted pink.

As I stare at her, my mind whirs at an alarming speed. So many thoughts combine and intertwine until I’m nearly overcome. It takes every ounce of willpower not to rid myself of my clothes and impale her, ruining her for any other man who might catch her eye before I can drag her down the aisle. This feral need to mark her, to claim her eats at my brain until I have to stop for a moment just to breathe.

Reaching down, I stroke myself through my breeches, needing to relieve some of the pressure. Last time, I refused to pleasure myself. I was so caught up with guilt over my actions, I couldn’t sully myself further. Now that I’m determined to be her husband, I find I’m a bit more comfortable taking further liberties.

I’ll still keep her maidenhead intact. Just in case rational thinking wins out and forces me to change plans. However, I will allow myself to indulge just a bit more. With a soft groan, I spread her legs and tie them to the bed before securing her arms.

She looks like a sacrificial offering waiting for me to consume. Undoing the flap holding my cock at bay, I palm my stiff erection, sliding my hand up and down as I watch her arousal coat her lower lips. Her scent calls to me, muddying my thoughts until I find I must devour her.

Bending low, I continue to stroke myself as I drag my tongue up one side of her swollen pussy and down the other. Her sugary taste floods my system, just as sweet as the soft moans drifting from her lips. Gripping the base of my cock, I hold myself, keeping my release at bay.

After a moment or two, I get myself back under control. Releasing my shaft, I glide my thumbs up and down her lower lips, spreading her open as I dart my tongue in and out of her tight channel. She squirms beneath me, her soft pleas like music to my ears.

This time, I don’t let her come. Pulling back, I grab the small flogger and trail it over her stomach, drawing nonsensical designs on her skin before applying the tails to her inner thigh with enough force to sting but not mark. She arches up, her eyes fluttering a bit more.

For a moment, I fear she’ll awaken, but she never does. She continues to hover in that space between waking and sleeping, that liminal space where I can truly torment her without repercussion. Bringing the flogger over to the other thigh, I smack her there as well.

Back and forth, I continue to torment her flesh, bringing a nice pink glow to her skin. Once she’s squirming and her breaths come in harried gasps, I apply the flogger to her quim. Miss Gillet cries out, her body going ramrod with the gentle blow.

It’s not for pain that she cries out. Those sound far different coming from her lips. It’s pure, unadulterated need which rings out in the rafters. Now, more than ever, I applaud my foresight in creating a room in which sound cannot escape.

I find I rather enjoy her cries of lust as I create an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. Once we wed, I may never wish to leave this room. Though, granted, with my bedchamber being far removed from the family, I can still torment her without much worry.

Here, in my dungeon, however, she will never need to have concern about others listening in. She can be as loud as she wishes, and I will be more than happy to indulge her. Pulling back my hand, I strike her lower lips again, my cock bobbing as she bows up, a ragged cry ripping from her throat.

Again, I strike her delicate flesh, learning her thresholds. Granted, while she’s drugged like this, she’s more apt to take a harsher hand than when she’s alert and can tense up in anticipation of the blow. As is it, she continues to cry out for more despite the discomfort this must cause.

How lucky am I to stumble upon such a gem as she? Miss Gillet writhes in her bonds as she begs me for release. She doesn’t say it in so many words since I’m sure she still doesn’t understand what she wants and needs.

But she will. All too soon, I’ll have her begging with her words as she comes all over my cock. Precum pearls at my tip at that thought, and my mind splinters. A feral need to have her, to own her, washes over me.

This isn’t like Delilah. The ferocity in which I need Miss Gillet far surpasses those paltry feelings. Like a man unhinged, I throw the flogger to the side and kneel between her legs. Though I won’t deflower her, I want to feel what it’s like to empty myself inside her body, to own her from the inside out.

Since she’s on suppressants and unable to go into heat, my actions will not cause a pregnancy. It’s the last rational thought I have as I ease the tip of my cock into her opening. She flutters about me, driving me insane.