Forbidden Susan Johnson (english love story books txt) 📖

"And bear me children?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Good God… Etienne thought.

"And bring me pleasure?"

"Truly Your Holiness, I live to serve you."

"We'll see," he said, as if in grudging reluctance he might allow her that office. He released her nipples, leaving her kneeling before him, waiting for his next command, docile and subdued. Taking his erection in his hands, he stroked it as Isabelle avidly watched, bringing its rigid length to a full turgid arousal.

"Have you been applying yourself to your handmaiden lessons?" he asked, languidly stroking his erection.

"Yes, absolutely, sir."

"Do you think you've reached a level of performance I would find satisfactory?" He circled the shiny red crest of his tumescent manhood with a slender finger while he watched her eager gaze.

"I've been most diligent in my studies, Your Worship," she breathed, her rapt eyes focused on the casual stroking of his fingers.

"Very well, we'll allow you a small compensation for your studious activities. Pleasure me," he said in a deliberate, commanding tone, "with your sinful mouth."

And Etienne watched with a curious detachment as his wife leaned over and drew the young pale-haired priest's aroused manhood into her mouth with an avid enthusiasm and skill and competence that did indeed indicate some lessons well learned. She sucked and licked and nibbled on the engorged and gleaming wet erection at some length while the priest's slender hands squeezed and fondled Isabelle's breasts in absentminded unconcern. Di-vinely motivated or not, it was obvious before too long the young man was reaching his peak and even spiritual discipline wasn't going to stop his orgasm. "On the couch," the priest curtly ordered a few short moments later, as if he were a general and not a clergyman, and Isabelle jumped to obey, lying open for him, guiding his rampant erection into her, like a dutiful handmaiden, clasping him in her arms and moaning softly as he drove into her with a frenzied violence.

The fair-haired man groaned softly in only seconds more, collapsing on the twenty-seventh Duchesse de Vec as though she were a scullery maid.

In a way this odd arrangement made Isabelle more human, Etienne reflected. He'd wondered all these years what she'd done with her life. But now he'd seen…

And no one could accuse him any longer of being the only libertine de Vec.

He was genuinely smiling when he opened the door to the hallway and then stepped from behind the screen.

"Good afternoon," he said, mildly surveying the astonished young priest lying on top of his wife. "I don't believe we've met. I'm de Vec. And that, I believe, is my wife warming your cock."

"Get out!" Isabelle screamed, an unholy rage glaring from her eyes.

"My, my, such a tone for a handmaiden of the Lord. I'm shocked." Etienne calmly settled his large frame into one of Isabelle's pastel and gilt chairs. "Had I known how pious inspiration stimulated you, darling, I would have embraced religion years ago. A truly awesome performance. And heated from my vantage point. You have a bit of sweat on your upper lip, darling."

"I'll have you thrown out," Isabelle snarled, attempting to move the body of the stupefied young man from atop her.

"By this slender young man? Really?" Etienne's smile was angelic, his breadth of shoulder twice that of the pale priest's. "Ah, there you are, Charbeau," he said to the footman entering the room, satisfaction evident in his voice. "Would you say I've found my wife in an um indelicate situation?"

"Yes, sir, Your Grace. My word on it in court."

"Get off me, Roger!" Isabelle exploded, shoving the startled young man onto the floor. "Who are you?" she shouted at Char-beau, arrogant even in her denouement. She stood before him naked, putting on her lace robe without a thought for his presence.

"You work here? Who hired you? I'll have their heads! You're dismissed. Get out!"

He had to give her points for noblesse. She had neither humility nor remorse, only this melodramatic rage. "It's a little late for theatrics, Isabelle," the Duc quietly said, "although," he added with a wicked smile, "you have a wonderful flair for acting. I never realized you could be so submissive." His dark brows rose in compliment. "I'm truly amazed."

"Roger, find your damn clothes and get out of here!" Isabelle commanded, she the general now, their roles reversed.

A more familiar posture for the Duc to comprehend. "Get his name," Etienne said to Charbeau as he watched the man struggle into his long cassock while he was moving toward the door, his crested underwear abandoned on Isabelle's couch.

"Yes, sir."

By this time, several servants had converged in the hall outside, standing well back from the open door, fearful of approaching too closely with the Duchesse's voice raised to that familiar pitch.

The Duc smiled at them all and waved a greeting before he closed the door behind the retreating figures of the priest and Charbeau.

"I have the legal right to shoot you and your lover dead," he pleasantly said, turning back to Isabelle. "You're aware of that, I presume, since you've been so dedicated to the infinite details of divorce these past months. Unfortunately, you don't have the same option with me. Unfair, I know, but men, after all, devise these laws so it's to be expected." His voice was softly amused, his green eyes touched with a sardonic neutrality. While he understood the injustice of the law, he'd suffered, too, under the injustice of his brother-in-law's patronage. Life wasn't always fair.

"So—are we even now?"

"I hate you!"

"Somehow I already knew that," he said coolly. "What I'd like to know is whether we can now proceed with this divorce like reasonable adults or whether you wish to be brought into court to recount the events I just witnessed?"

"I'll say you lied."

"Charbeau is a bailiff."

"Charles can have him dismissed."

"This isn't the first time, Isabelle, you've amused yourself with these… advocates of God on earth, only the first time I've seen you. Bourges has several other incidents on file concerning you and your pretty young priests that only require time to fully develop