The Theft of a Dukedom Read Online Free PDF

innocently,
making him groan.
‘Don’t tempt me, Madam!’ he said smiling and
pushed her back onto the bed, so that he could remove
her stockings and garters. He delicately pulled the
ribbon holding her stocking up as he stroked his lips
over her bared thigh and followed the stocking to her
foot with his lips. I wonder if he’d like me to lick his cock. She wondered as she watched his manhood swell while
he was removing her stockings. I wonder what it would
taste like. That’s just too sinful for words, Victoria! She
scolded herself. By the time she was completely nude,
they were ready again and he made love to her until she
fell into an exhausted sleep.
He could see the first flicker of dawn in the sky
and knew he should go. She was lying on her side, like a
child and he was snuggled up behind her, with her
golden hair spilled across his body. He carefully rolled
on his back and lifted a handful of her hair to his face,
sniffing the smell of her.
Carefully he climbed out of bed and dressed
slowly, admiring her body in the increased light. He
knew she was nearly thirty eight, but looking like that
she didn’t look a day over twenty eight. Her alabaster
skin was flawless still and there wasn’t a line on her
face. Her breasts weren’t quite as pert as a twenty year
olds, but they were supple and fitted perfectly into his
hands. There was none of the flab around her middle
that Christina had developed after childbirth, but
Victoria had only had one. Christina had endured five
pregnancies, the last so exhausting that it took her life.
When he was dressed he stood and looked down at her.
He gently stroked her hair and she moaned and rolled
on her back, spreading her legs, as if he’d stroked her
pubic hair. He stared at that small triangle of golden hair
and the rivulets of his sperm on her inner thighs. Taking
a deep breath, because he would like nothing better
than to get back into bed and make love to her again, he
gently flicked the covers over her body and quietly left.
Charles had taken his carriage home, but Berkley
Square wasn’t that far from Grosvenor Square so he
decided to walk. He didn’t see another living soul, which
was strange for London, because there was usually
somebody about. As he opened the door of his mansion
Havers was waiting to greet him.
‘Don’t you ever sleep?’ he asked with a quirk of
a fine dark eyebrow.
‘Not when you’re abroad, Your Grace.’ Havers
said. ‘Lord Charles..’ he stopped and cleared his throat.
‘..forgive me, The Marquis is in the formal drawing room
and Lady Amelia is in bed, Your Grace.’
‘Very well. Have Chivers draw a bath for me.’
Havers nodded and turned away as Thomas opened the
door of the formal drawing room quietly. He poked his
head around the door and just looked at his son. Charles
was flat on his back, in front of the fire, with both the
brandy decanter and claret jug standing empty on the
hearth.
‘Havers?’ he called softly and the butler arrived.
‘How long has he been there?’
‘Since Lady Amelia went up to her room, Your
Grace.’ He said softly. ‘I didn’t know whether to fetch a
blanket for him.’
‘If you wouldn’t mind, Havers. I think it’s safer to
leave him there.’
‘Very good, Your Grace.’ And the butler sent a
footman off for a blanket.
Thomas took the thick blanket and carefully laid
it over his son. The urge to stroke his head was
overwhelming, but he hadn’t done that since the first
night he found him on the floor, when he’d touched
him, Charles had almost killed him before he was awake
properly. He’d already warned Amelia about startling
him when he was sleeping and so far she had stayed out
of his room at night. Charles groaned, turned on his side
and pulled the blanket up around his ears, as if he was
freezing. Thomas looked down on his son and wondered
how many nights he’d laid out in the open air and just
what horrors he’d seen, to make him sleep in front of
the fire on the floor instead of in a