From the Scrolls...
Duke Lewis Canton
Vanya looked so beautiful with her corset undone. Most men would say that I wasn't a real man. But then what is it that I feel for her? Surely, I am swayed by the grace of her hips. I cannot keep my eyes off her full breasts. And I crave the touch of her soft lips. She was the woman that was made to be cherished under my longing gaze. But then, she wasn't one of those who are made to love. Especially Vanya.
"Duke Canton, are we still not on the first name basis?" She mocks me, drawing the sheet closer to her breasts. I was well aware of the nakedness underneath them. How I yearned to touch her everywhere! I know she is soft in most places. Her body is wrapped in a fusion of lavenders, but her navel. Roses. Her navel smells of roses.
"You should have showed me what you could do with your tongue when you were down there," she said, her soft lips turning into a pout.
"It's a good thing, I haven't," I was supposed to stand my ground. No woman in the whole of Gestalt shall ever come close to me. Especially Vanya. Her beauty was a waste between my sheets. And yet, this undying flame that licks my senses.
"You don't have to fight yourself too hard, Lewis. Just give me what I want," Vanya whispered in a manner one could mistake it for a song.
"You are not worth my time, Mistress. You have already crossed your limits last night. Do not mistake my hospitality for my affections. I do not want you," my voice echoed. It might have done something to her because she scowled, and then sighed. Her teeth biting into her bottom lip. The black lace that formed her undergarments were lying on the floor.
"I had no intention to end up in your bed, Duke Canton," she said. Of course, there she was. Proud and hurt. Lady Vanya Catherington was the prettiest woman in the whole of Gestalt. She probably never had heard a 'no' in her life. There was no man who had not wanted to be buried within her. And how can they? She was everything they wanted in their women.
"Well then, that's great. I want you gone before the sun comes. Whatever was done last night, shall better remain a secret," I warned her. I was so close to losing myself. I had kissed her. Almost had her for myself. With her parting thigjs, and her helpless gaze. I knew she wanted me too.
"And what if I don't keep it a secret? What then?" She challenged. Ah, the fire! This is why she had caught my eye in the first place.
"My hounds don't have biases against pretty faces. They will have your tongue either way," I smirked, searching her eyes for the fear that I didn't want to go unnoticed.
"What if I kiss them so good? What will you do Duke Canton? Unlike you, I offer them something that they desire. Something money could never buy," she looked at me slyly.
"Thank Lord, my lady. They are all eunuchs. They will be happy to let go off their tongues. But not before they take yours," I smiled and fear flashed across her face.
"Make haste now," I jilted her. If I was capable of having liberties, I would have let her leave like a happy woman. But I was the Great Duke Of Gestalt. My life was better not shared. My bed was welcoming when untouched by a woman's warmth.
"Heavens be scorned on your arrogance, Duke Canton. You are the worst of them all," she spitted, standing in the light by the fireplace.
Exhausted, I sat on the amber couch, watching silhouettes cast on her lithe figure. So confident, so vulnerable she walked towards me and I felt my pants strained. Years out in the war prepares you for always having a straight face. How was now any different?
Vanya bends down, her thighs parting as the flame glows over her pretty space between thighs. She is naturally blonde then. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, as she reached for the lace of her undergarments. Then it dawned on me. I had defeated her will. She was leaving now.
She slipped into her dazzling, black ball gown. Her eyes watching me with scrutiny. She was pissed. That's what happens to women with ambitions when they fail to get what they want. But she was already in my bed. She hadn't failed completely. I knew what stringed her more was my indifference.
"My lady, I will tell them to prepare a carriage for you," I tell her, trying to hide my smile. I hadn't found anything remotely as amusing as watching her dress, in anger and fabric.
"Offering me a ride, now, when you could have done it the whole night?" Her eyes pierced daggers, and I chuckled. I needed to get her out as fast as possible. Or, she would take my pride with her when she leaves. Even if she leaves with her legs shaking.
When she searched for her coat, and couldn't find it, I couldn't help but offer her mine. "Here, my lady. Something to keep you warm," I pulled her over her shoulders with its brown lapels hiding the bareness of her sleeve-less dress. "This is no fur, and far from your tastes but it will keep you from the cruel winters," I offer her a subtle smile. It does nothing to ease her tension.
"You think the winters are cruel, Duke Canton? You should look closer," she slapped my hand away, fixing the coat herself.
"I think I know my way out," she shot me an angry glance before walking out of the room.
If only... If only she knew I yearn for her too, would she be less angry? And since when do I care about what angry mistresses think of me? Vanya Catherington was no exception. Or, perhaps I was lying to myself. I nestled my fingers into the coat pocket where her underwear had been lying, soaked in the scent of her arousal. She had won, regardless. Vanya Catherington was everything I dreaded and wanted.