The Duchess of Lust Ch. 03

The duke let out a low, hungry gasp as he filled her, then stopped as his hips rested against hers, his thick shaft filling her completely. Her eyes fluttered at the sense of fullness, at the sense of completeness, and with relief that the teasing had ended.

"Damn," Neryth said, sounding impressed. "Wasn't expecting her to take it so well. But..." She chuckled. "Taking that first thrust is one thing. Getting fucked properly is another."

"I can still...I can take it."

Sarya knew that she could: she had been brutally fucked by a gang of barbarians, and by a hungry spirit. A simple duke would be of no challenge.

Lucan grinned down at her, his fingers digging into her ankles.

"We shall see," he said again.

His hips pulled back, then slammed forward for one deep, fierce thrust. Her eyes bulged and she cried out as the table rocked beneath her. Sarya tossed her head back and forth at the painful but delightful sensation of being so quickly filled by that thick shaft. Neryth laughed again, her grip tightening.

Lucan pulled back, his face firm and stone-like, but his eye burned with fiery need. Sarya shuddered as his shaft slowly started to slip out of her, then winced in preparation for the next deep pounding.

Again the table rocked with the force of the thrust, and again she cried out. Neryth let out another soft chuckle.

"More," Sarya pleaded, her eyes rolling back into her head. "Faster..."

Neryth snorted with disbelief.

"This duchess is just full of surprises," the captain said.

"Indeed," the duke said icily, his tone making Sarya tense with preparation for what he was about to do next. "But we shall see exactly how...eager she really is."

He tugged on her ankles, lifting her legs towards his chest, so her feet rested against his broad, firm shoulders. His cock remained just barely inside her, twitching a little as he adjusted her legs.

"Oh gods," she said, with both fear and anticipation. She'd had men use her in such a way before, but not when she was pinned and helpless.

"Look at me," Neryth cooed. Sarya blinked and turned her head to meet the woman's dark eyes. The captain smirked and licked her lips. Then she leaned down, her lips pressing against Sarya's. The duchess shivered with surprise and delight as their mouths met, and then again as Neryth's tongue darted out for a brief taste of Sarya's lips.

Sarya mewled, the sound muffled by the kiss. Her hands strained against Neryth's, but her fight against the captain was suddenly forgotten as Lucan slammed his hips forward again.

She cried out against the captain's mouth, the sound approaching a scream. Another cry left her panting lips as Lucan thrust again, then again. He swiftly settled into a deep, swift rhythm. The table creaked and shook, the legs scraping against the floor.

Sarya breathed as best she could, but it was damned difficult due to that kiss. She moaned and whimpered, and the captain sensed her need and broke away. Neryth wiped saliva from her lips.

"Satisfied?" Lucan grunted at the captain.

"Hardly," Neryth laughed. "But her lips are nice...wonder what they'd feel like between my legs." She raised an eyebrow at Lucan. "Will you let me have a go once you're done?"

"That would not be very proper, for a lowborn soldier to bed a noblewoman," Lucan said, panting with effort as his hips continued to pound against the pinned, writhing duchess. Sarya moaned at those brutal movements, her skin tingling with sensation, sweat running down her neck.

"Proper?" Sarya managed, in between gasps and whimpers. She even managed to smile up at the duke, before another thrust sent her pleasure catapulting higher. Her eyes bulged and she felt her climax build, her nerves tingling and burning with the beautifully rough lovemaking. "There is nothing proper about this evening, my lord."

Neryth chuckled, apparently unperturbed that Lucan hadn't agreed to her request. Gods, if Neryth actually did want her, Sarya wouldn't have stopped her.

And given how weak Sarya was at the moment, she probably couldn't have stopped her, either.

"Very rude of you," Sarya murmured, sputtering out the words in between short moans and pathetic little whimpers. "To deny a boon to your loyal captain."

Lucan laughed and leaned forward, his chest pressing against her legs, bending them back a little, and deepening his thrusts. She yelped and arched her back, and Neryth leaned down to give Sarya's neck a soft bite. That new sensation sent another thrill through her, her desire rising towards her first climax of the evening.

And judging by the tension in her limbs and the ache in her dripping pussy...it would be a good one.

"Very impudent of you, to tell me how I should reward my followers."

Sarya winced, feeling her climax fast approaching. Rather than respond with another joke or teasing insult, she let out a shuddering groan and tried to lift her hips, to encourage him, to get him to drive deeper and faster, to give her what she needed

"So needy," Lucan chuckled. He reached down and slapped at her outer thigh, but due to the incredible fullness she felt thanks to his cock, she barely recognized the pain.

"More," Sarya moaned, her voice weak and trembling. She shuddered with the first little shock of her climax, and his next deep thrust sent her over the edge. Her arms writhed in Neryth's firm grasp, and her legs went rigid against the duke's strong chest. Her toes curled, digging into his shirt, and her head thrashed back and forth. That thick cock sent spasms of pleasure through her pussy, and every muscle in her body tensed, seizing up as the bliss gripped hold, and did not let go.

Her cries and moans echoed through the fine dining room, and no doubt into the halls beyond. But she didn't care if some passing servant or guard overheard, and clearly Lucan didn't, either.

He gazed down at her with that stern, icy eye throughout her climax, barely making any noise at all, save for the occasional slight moan of pleasure or grunt of effort. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breath was heavy and ragged, but he showed no signs of slowing.

Gods, he was just as insatiable as King Ulrik and his savage champions...

The last shudders rippled through her body, and her head thudded back against the table. She gasped for air and smiled dreamily.

"I think..." she murmured. "I think I quite like your style of negotiations, my lord."

Lucan huffed and his pace slowed, then stopped...much to her chagrin. She mewled and wriggled her hips, trying to rock against him, but instead he gripped his shaft and slipped out of her. Her legs fell back down against the table, and her eyes were drawn to his shaft, which was was soaked with her moisture.

She licked her lips, and the duke grinned.

"Get her on her knees," he snapped at the captain.

The woman obliged, and yanked Sarya off the table, then gave her a shove down towards the ground. Given how weak and limp her legs were, Sarya didn't really need the help to kneel. She shivered at the cold stone of the floor against her knees, and her hungry eyes looked beseechingly up at the duke.

"Go on," Neryth said, her fingers reaching down to grip the duchess' wild red curls. "Be a good duchess, and suck his lordship's cock."

Feeling suddenly rather sly and teasing, Sarya leaned forward and just barely brushed her lips over the tip. A jolt shot through Lucan's body. She followed it up that teasing touch with a soft, quick lick to that thick crown, earning another glare and a growl from the duke.

He turned his eyes towards Neryth, and nodded.

The captain laughed, then tightly gripped Sarya's hair and shoved her head forward, forcing her mouth onto Lucan's shaft. Sarya's eyes bulged and she squealed with surprise and half-hearted protest as his manhood filled her mouth. Her hands fluttered and rose up to grip Lucan's strong hips.

Neryth kept her grip tight in Sarya's hair, and let her get situated for a moment, before pulling Sarya's head back, then shoving her forward.

Sarya whimpered with pain at Neryth's grip, but delight helped to obscure most of the agony. Gods, it was wonderfully wicked doing this...being used as a plaything by a duke and his captain. It was incredibly improper and lewd, which just made Sarya even more wet.

Even better, such a depraved act might ensure an alliance with the man.

But political thoughts fled her mind as Neryth continued to rock Sarya's head back and forth along Lucan's cock. Sarya choked and gasped for air, her eyes watering, even as she desperately tried to look up to meet Lucan's gaze.

He stared down at her with that one, cold eye. He barely reacted at all, save to occasionally gasp, or to let out a soft, rumbling groan of bliss.

Every little sign of weakness was like a reward to the duchess. Her hand fell away from his hip and moved down between her legs. Idly she toyed with herself, drawing forth a soft moan that thrummed around his cock. Lucan leaned his head back, took a deep breath, then looked to the captain.

"Enough, Neryth," he said, his voice shaking. "I can take it from here."

"Sure, my lord? She seems the type who you might need help with, to keep in line." As if to emphasize that, Neryth's fingers dug fiercely into Sarya's scalp, and she shoved the duchess' head down further, forcing her to take that dick even deeper into her throat. Sarya moaned, saliva and precum dripping from her lips.

"I am sure."

Neryth huffed with apparent disappointment and stepped away. Sarya immediately pulled back, coughing and gasping for air, but she managed to blink away the moisture in her eyes. Her fingers continued to tease over her sex, rubbing over her aching clit.

She licked her lips and beamed up at the duke. Her free hand rose, stroking the lower half of his dripping shaft, while her mouth closed in around the tip. Groaning, she suckled firmly on the thick head, her tongue swirling against the underside, teasing and flicking against him.

"Damn," Neryth said. "Seems to know what she's doing."

"That she most certainly does," Lucan answered. His fingers ran through her hair, the touch soft and gentle.

Neryth stepped back to watch, which Sarya found to be quite exhilarating, just as exciting as it had been when those barbarians had gazed lustfully upon her during the ritual. She shivered a bit, almost hoping there could have been more people within the dining room to witness the debauchery. Her mind wandered as she worked, wondering what Ketrik would have made of such a scene...

Lucan's soft groan snapped her back to her task. She bobbed her head lower, taking in more of his shaft, her tongue firmly caressing beneath the tip, as if trying to force out his seed. Her hand sped up, the movement aided by her spit and the droplets of precum.

His hips bucked, driving his shaft a bit deeper into her warm, eager mouth. Her hips bucked as well, her body still stinging from the brutal thrusts he'd given her only a few minutes before. Her fingers sped up, but the sensations were nothing compared to those his cock could deliver.

"There," Lucan groaned out as her lips brushed just beneath the tip of his dick. "Right...right there."

Her eyes glowed with amusement and triumph as she suckled, expertly attacking that weak spot while her fingers stroked. He leaned his head back and cursed, and those strong hips shuddered. She felt the tension rise in his cock beneath her fingers, then felt it twitch against her lips.

Sarya moaned as she heard a cry leave his lips, and locked her lips around the tip, sealing it within her mouth as he came, his cum spraying inside her. Her eyes fluttered with delight at the taste of him, and her tongue and lips continued to work, drawing it out. More seed followed, and she murmured happily and swallowed: once, twice and then again.

Her fingers continued to stroke. His hips twitched and his chest heaved for air, and a few more drops of hot cum leaked out, which she quickly collected with her tongue and swallowed down.

She pulled back, a radiant smile on her sweaty face.

Neryth whistled in admiration.

"Damn. She even did a better job than that baroness from a few weeks back."

Sarya's lust-addled mind wondered who that baroness was.

She rose shakily to her feet and picked up the only cup of tea left upon the table, and took a sip to help collect herself. She yawned, and wipe sweat and a stray drop of cum from her mouth.

"I think the lady needs some rest after those negotiations," Lucan said, his voice now as crisp and calm as ever. He stepped back and tugged his leggings and undergarments back up.

"Yes," Sarya said. "Who knew that diplomacy could be so...draining."

"I'll consult with my captains and advisers, and you shall have an answer to your offer come the morning, my lady."

Lucan called out for a servant, then reached out to offer his cloak to the duchess, to help cover up her body, since she was clad only in that sweaty, silken shift.

A woman in servant's garb arrived and observed the scene without judgment in her eyes. The duke asked her to show Sarya back to her quarters, and the duchess followed. Once at the door, she yawned, then turned to blow Neryth and the duke a kiss, then slipped out into the hall.

***

"Well," Neryth said dryly once the duchess was gone. "That was a surprise."

"Not really," Lucan said. He knelt down to start to collect the scattered dishes and torn fabric, and the captain bent to help as well. "I sensed her lusts in her gaze, not long after we met. She has a strange sort of..." He frowned and shook his head. "I don't know. Something about her."

"Aye, she's a damned pretty one." And Neryth was a bit chagrined that she hadn't had a chance of her own.

"Not what I meant. I do not know. A will. An aura of desire and strength. It is odd. It's not something I've seen in another woman before."

"Not even me?" Neryth asked, feigning shock.

He rose, collecting the last of the fallen plates, and rolled his eye.

"Do not play the jealous type, captain. It does not suit you. Besides, your strengths lay elsewhere."

"So you believe her story, then?"

"I do."

"Does this mean we're going to abandon our war to fight hers?"

"Gods, no. But she and that savage companion of hers may prove the key to victory."

The duke proceeded to explain Sarya's offer: to use Ketrik's connections to turn Garnoc's barbarian mercenaries against him, in exchange for aiding Fellhaven.

"Damned clever of her," Neryth mused. "And it could set you up as the savior of Fellhaven. The savior of other duchies, too. You can add the smashing of the Iron Blades to your victories."

"One crisis at a time, my friend. For now, speak to Ketrik. Tonight, you shall take him to Garnoc's mercenaries. By dawn, I want them fighting for my cause."

"A difficult task, getting to those mercenaries, even under cover at night."

"And when has the difficulty of a task ever stopped you, captain?"

Neryth laughed.

"Fucking never, my lord."

"Ensure the shaman is taken care of, captain. He may be a wild savage, but he is critical to this endeavor. And...I think the duchess cares for him."

"Aww, how sweet."

"I doubt it is anything so...trivially sentimental. I think she values him, despite how poorly she knows him. I saw it in her gaze when she spoke of him."

"Fair enough, my lord. I'll keep the duchess' pet barbarian safe."

***

Neryth, her body tingling after being a party to Lucan's conquest of the duchess, swaggered down the hallway towards the guest quarters, where the shaman had been given lodging. Once there, she kicked at the door to announce her presence, and a gruff voice called out for her to enter.

She did so, and raised an eyebrow at the mess.

The dark-haired shaman sat on the floor, surrounded by books. The shelves within the room were empty, as if the shaggy, burly barbarian had dumped every tome onto the floor.

"Not sure how you Iron Blades do things," she said drolly. "But usually if you want to read a book, you don't toss it onto the floor."

He grunted, but didn't look up from the pages. She cocked her head, seeing that it was a book about the wildlife of the duchy. Neryth hadn't the faintest idea how that would be useful, but she wasn't there to nitpick the man's reading material.

"And who are you, exactly?" Ketrik asked, still reading.

"Captain Neryth. I'm the duke's second-in-command. And I'm here to drag you away on a rather foolish and potentially suicidal mission."

He frowned, looking up from the book. His piercing green eyes bored into her darker ones, and he slowly rose to his feet.

"And the duchess?" he asked roughly.

"She's fine." Neryth said quickly. "And this is part of her agreement with the duke. Part of their alliance. If you can sway your barbarian friends among Garnoc's force to abandon the pretender's cause, then Lucan will ally with her against the horde at Fellhaven."

"May I talk to her before we go? To confirm this?"

"She's exhausted." Her eyes twinkled, and Ketrik let out a laugh.

"So are you the one responsible for said exhaustion?" he asked.

"Partially. Why? Jealous?"

He laughed again.

"Not at all. I've no claim on her...never even had the pleasure of being between her legs."

"Well, you haven't had that pleasure yet, anyway," Neryth said. "I saw that she was worried about you. Wanted to make sure you were treated right and cared for. So maybe you'll get your chance."

"She was worried about me because I'm useful."

"Useful people can still be the objects of affection, Ketrik." She shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Didn't come here to talk about such nonsense. Came here to drag you into the night. So you in?"

"Of course I am."

She stepped back into the hall and he quickly followed.

"Though I wonder," the captain said, as they descended the staircase, down towards the fort's courtyard. "Why do you give a damn? Why side with the duchess against your own people?"

"It's complicated. But I disagree with the king of the Iron Blades. He thinks our gods wanted us to slaughter and sack the cities of the south. I think the gods wanted us to prove our strength in other ways. In duels, in hunts, as mercenaries. Not as raiders and conquerors."

"So the mercenaries fighting for Garnoc...you think they will see things your way, too?"

"Yes. But some might have sided with Garnoc because that's an easier way to make gold than to raze cities to the ground."

"If they wanted an easy way to make gold, they shouldn't have taken to mercenary work. Damned boring, damned dangerous, and the pay is shit most of the time."

"Then why do you do it?"

"Suppose I'm not technically a mercenary any more. I'm officially an officer in the service of Duke Lucan." A grin spread across her dark features as they stepped out into the night. "But it's...fun. The adrenaline, the excitement of a fight...nothing else quite compares. I feel alive, with a sword in my hand, if you know what I mean."

"I do. You speak as if you are an Iron Blade."

"Nah, I'm too pretty to be some nasty barbarian woman."

They both shared a chuckle as they made it to the stables, where the stablehands had already saddled and prepared a few horses. Neryth moved to her horse, preparing to mount up, but Ketrik paused in front of the other horse and frowned.

"What's wrong? You Iron Blades not know how to ride horses?"

"I know how to ride. I'll just need a weapon. Just in case."

"Expecting trouble from your comrades?" she asked, but told one of the stablehands to rush to the armory to fetch a weapon.

"Maybe. Some might prefer to cling to Garnoc. But even without that concern, Garnoc has his own soldiers, correct?"

"Aye, only a handful. Maybe a few hundred, and calling them 'soldiers' is a bit of a stretch. Mostly disreputable mercenaries and a handful of regiments led by officers who are related to the pretender. If it weren't for those barbarian mercenaries, this would have ended weeks ago."