Can a book tell a prim and proper virgin what will happen between herself and her husband on their wedding night?

Three Victorian couples related by family, friendship or marriage, all have something in common. Something not discussed in polite society or approved by high society. A book: The Duke’s Mistress.

Follow their journey and adventure as they each search for their happily-ever-after.

Publisher’s Note: This steamy Victorian romance contains elements of power exchange.

Excerpt

27 July 1880

My dear ______,

It has been too long since our last visit. I hope things are well for you in the north. Here in London I have what can only be considered a new lease on life. I have become mistress to the Duke of _______. In an effort to protect him, should this letter be intercepted, I will only refer to him as His Grace. I am sure you understand my need for discretion.

Despite that need, though, I have a compelling desire to tell my story. And I know that you, dear cousin, will appreciate it in all its glory. Do you remember all those years ago when we discussed what happens between a man and woman? When I married I found we were far from the mark, as I am sure you did, also. My late husband was cold, and only coupled with me when necessary.

I can only thank the God above that no children came from that union, since he left me a widow so soon after our marriage. I cannot fathom how it would be to take care of a child on my own. But I digress, and you do not want to hear me complain about my lot in life. What you want is the details of His Grace, and those I shall give you.

I met him a scant month after my mourning period ended. He is a most handsome man, extremely tall with very broad shoulders. His dark hair is worn a little bit longer than the fashion, but it suits his rugged looks. He has yet to marry, and when he does I know it will not be to me. I am far below his station, but that has not kept him from making me his.

It was at a boring party for the Duchess of ___________ that I first saw him. He was across the room, standing in a group of people. His gaze was focused on me and I felt as if I were on fire. It was almost as if he could see what I looked like in my shift. Perhaps it was my red hair that attracted him, I am not sure. All I know is that after a while it became warm in there. I went outside to the gardens and he was beside me in seconds, his hand on my back, propelling me toward the maze.

I did not speak, nor try to dissuade him. Once we were concealed from prying eyes he stopped me, pushing me back against the hedges. His hands found my breasts immediately, squeezing and exploring.

“Your Grace,” I said in shock, even though I did not try to move away. His touch was masterful and sent bolts of desire through my body. My last husband’s touch had never sent me on edge like this. The Duke’s hands explored me, moving from one mound to another before he stepped back.

“Lift your skirts.”

I did not even think of disobeying him. I gathered the material quickly, baring my pantalets to him. He tugged on them, exposing me to his view. He got down on his haunches, his hands now touching my pussy.

“Your cunt is wet.” I inhaled sharply as he touched me. “Do you wish to fuck, Melody?” (That is not my name, of course. His Grace used my real name. But I created Melody, in case this letter is ever found. Do you like it, my dear friend? It is quite fun to be able to name yourself. And I realize you are probably worried about me sending this salacious tale through the post to you. I have opted for a messenger service. And am delivering it to ______ inside another envelope and asking him to pass it on to you. There will be no names on the missive you receive. If you believe the missives have been read, please advise me of it and I will think of another way to deliver my letters to you. I suppose, though, that you want me to get back to the tale, and so I shall.)

“Yes.” I felt as if I could barely speak. He stood, his hands still stroking my folds.

“Yes to what?” His smile was predatory, and it made me want him inside me even more.

“I want to fuck, Your Grace.”

“Turn and bend over.” I obeyed immediately. He lifted my skirts over my hips as I grasped the bushes to keep myself steady. When I felt his prick rub against my backside I almost fled. He is much larger than ___________, and I wondered what it would feel like inside me.

I soon found out, for he wasted no time in entering me, his prick sliding into my cunny, spreading me wide. He grasped my hips and fucked me silently, with the sounds of his flesh slapping against mine the only sounds in the night air. Well, that and his grunts. He took me hard, and his climax was much longer in coming than ____________’s ever was. It seemed to take forever, and the longer he thrust inside me the more the pressure, and pleasure, built.

“Touch your clit.” The order shocked me and when I did not immediately respond he slapped my behind. “Do as I say. Stroke it, make yourself spend.”

I was so aroused there was no way I could not obey. The hard nubbin responded to my touch immediately and when I climaxed he slapped my behind again, then left my body, spilling his seed over my backside.

He did not let go of my hips, though, holding me in place for a long moment that grew very uncomfortable. When he finally moved it was to wipe his kerchief across me, cleaning up his leavings. I righted myself on shaky legs and turned to him. His face was flush and the desire in his eyes had not abated.

“I will send herbs to your home, to prevent pregnancy so that I might spill inside you.”

His words shocked me almost as much as what had just happened. He meant for us to couple again?

“Take them daily. I will visit you tomorrow.” He was tucking his prick back into his breeches. “Wear nothing but your corset and stockings.”

When I did not respond he narrowed his gaze at me. “Did you enjoy what we just did?”

“Very much, Your Grace.”

“Good, then follow my directions. I will be there around one in the afternoon.” He surprised me by tipping my face up and kissing me gently. Then he left. I righted my clothes, looking around and wondering if anyone had seen us, had watched our quick, hard coupling.

The experience left me frazzled, and back at the party I could barely make small talk with the other guests. I had arrived with ____________, and you know how she can be. She immediately noticed my flush and took it to mean something was wrong. That excuse was all she needed to whisk me from the affair and to my home where servants drew me a hot bath. I soaked for a long time, my cunny sore from its hard use tonight, a feeling it has not experienced since ___________’s death.

Will I prepare myself for him tomorrow? I can almost see you shouting the question, dear friend. I can only say that yes, I will. And if this letter reaches you as it should, I will write to you of my next experience, if that is what you wish.

Take care, __________. I close this now so I can sleep and get it to the messenger in the morning. Please write to me soon for I miss you so.

I remain your dear friend and cousin, and can now sign myself,

The Duke’s Lover