Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“Oh.” She looked at him in apology. “I’m sorry I m-misunder—-” She stopped speaking, finally noticing the way Rathe’s blue eyes had darkened with desire.
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
Where was the old Duke of Flanders when she needed him?
“Rathe, we’re in the fitting room—-” She looked around for a way to escape but there was none, the fitting room too cramped.
Mary yelped when Rathe’s arms suddenly shot out, imprisoning her between his body and the door. “I want you.”
Oh. God. British. Accent. She. Dead.
“Rathe, no.” But her voice was shaking, her body stirring into life at the way his accent had become so thick.
“Your choice—-”
She said pleadingly, “Rathe, the camera crew’s waiting outside—-”
“The door or the mirror?” he finished, as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
“Rathe—-” She ended up gasping as the duke palmed her breasts.
“Choose. Do you want me to fuck you against the door or the mirror?” The walls were not to be considered, since both had hooks that could hurt his wife.
The F-word clinched it, her husband’s dirty talk never failing to make her do whatever he wished.
“Just promise me we w-we’ll keep it down?”
“I’m never the one who’s noisy.”
“Sod.”
“Choose.”
She stammered, “M-mirror?” The further away from the camera crew, the better.
Rathe frowned. “No,” he decided. “It’s too dangerous. It might break if I fuck you too hard.”
This time, she no longer had the strength to argue. It was all because he had said the F-word a second time, Mary thought with a shiver. It had her soaking wet between her legs and when Rathe pulled her forward, she followed him eagerly, her mouth opening under his while she helped him release his engorged cock.
And then he had her up in his arms, her back against the door, and his cock was sliding into her.
His thrusts were slow and steady, his lips tenderly brushing against hers just before they moved down and he began to lick her nipples, lapping it up in silence.
It was beautiful, but it was not enough.
Sensing his duchess’ restlessness and knowing the cause behind it, Rathe smirked. Lifting his head, he said, “Your choice.” He thrust his cock back into her even more slowly this time. “Quiet...or not quiet?”
Mary glared at him. “You’re d-doing this deliberately.”
He chuckled. “You always accuse me of that, but it’s not my fault you are obsessed with me.”
Mary snarled at him.
It was too adorable, and he rewarded her with a bite on one pouting nipple.
A cry escaped her.
Max, the guy in charge of lighting, asked, “Did you guys hear that?”
The question had Mary jerking in alarm.
Rathe withdrew his cock out of her until only its tip was nudging against her entrance. “Well, little pearl?” He moved his hips as he waited for her answer, tormenting her by having his cock nudge against her clitoris but never quite hard enough to make her lose her mind.
Mary’s fingers dug into his shoulders. She tried to control herself, but it was impossible.
He repeated his question. “Quiet or not quiet?”
She choked out, “Noisy.”
His blue eyes glittered. “As you wish, my duchess.”
And then he was pounding so hard into her, making her cry out in shock and fumble for something to hold on to.
She felt Rathe angling her hips to receive him better, and when he shoved his thick, huge cock back into her, he wrecked her world apart.
This time each powerful thrust had his body weighing down on her clitoris.
This time, she screamed.
Outside the fitting room, Mary dimly heard the sound of footsteps running towards them.
“Are you all right, Your Grace?” That sounded like the head cameraman, Joey.
“E-everything’s f-fine.” She gazed at the duke pleadingly. Help me keep quiet.
But the noble arsehole only smirked, and his next thrusts were even rougher and harder than the last.
“We heard you scream.” It was Tony, the one in charge of sounds.
“I...ah...got...surprised? The bikini...a-actually...doesn’t fit?”
God, that was so lame.
But it was all she could manage, her eyes starting to roll back at the way the duke was fucking her.
“So you’re just fitting, right now?” Joey asked.
“Ah...” Oh God, oh God, she was starting to come.
“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeees. Iiiiiiiiiiiiit. Fiiiiiiiiiiiiits.”
Rathe’s eyes widened.
Oh, God, had that come from her?
But Mary couldn’t be bothered to think about it, Rathe’s cock filling her with cum only serving to prolong her orgasm.
Outside, she heard Max clear his throat. “We want to believe you, Duchess, but...I guess you forgot you’re, err, gripping the door on the top?”
Joey added, “We can also only see the duke’s feet below the door.”
“Just an odd position to fit a bikini, Your Grace,” Tony ended.
Inside the fitting room, the duke’s low laugh couldn’t quite drown the sound of his duchess’ mortified gasp.
The End